One week (HP)(COMPLETED)

Wednesday

Harry woke up, head in a pile of old books. He was in the library. Seemingly, he feel asleep while working. He groaned, his body aching from sleeping in such an akward position. He weakly opened his eyes, expecting to see Hermione in the chair next to him. The person who sat next to him wasn't his bushy haired friend, though.

Malfoy sneered at him. "You're awake." He stated simply.

Harry stretched his arms over his head, popping his back. He gave no response. He needed coffee, though he wasn't sure if he had the time to spare. He rubbed sleep out of his eyes with one hand, grabbing the book he hand fallen asleep on with the other. God he was tired, but he needed to review the spells one last time before he started on it. He began studying the page, ignoring the blonde beside him.

Malfoys did not take well to being ignored, it seemed. "So the rumors are true. Precious Potter seemed to have screwed up big time, eh? Guess you're not as much as a hot shot as everyone says." Malfoy had apparently skimmed though the books he had scattered around his table. Ron's jacket, which last sat draped over the chair next to him, was hung on Harry's shoulders. Somone put it on him while he slept, it seemed. Harry suspected Hermione did it before she left left for the dorms.

Potter did not take the bait.

Draco wanted to throw a tantrum. He was being ignored! By bloodly Potter, no less. Who did he think he is? "Really," he contuined, trying to get a rise out of the boy, "getting cursed at with this magnitude by a botched potion? It's unheard of. You really are a screw up."

Harry just turned the page. After a moment, he sighed. "While you're here...can you get me some coffee from the dinning hall?"

Malfoy seemed taken back. Harry's voice was rough and husky, his breath stunk of morning breath. But that hardly distracted from the substance of his words. "What?"

"You seem keen on bothering me. If you want a respomse worth your time, I need a little wake me up."

Malfoy glared at the boy, his mouth opening to bite back, but it closed as quickly as it had opened. He nodded, getting up, leaving for thr dining room. Harry sighed in relief. Finally some silence. Harry reread the spell again. He figured he had all three spells memorized by now. And he understood them, thanks to the Ravenclaws he pestered.

The first was was a complex healing potion, meant to heal the mind more than the body. It was a very effective counteractive to depression and PTSD, though not many people were able to make it.

The second was literal poison. Even the smallest dose was deadly.

The third was an antitode to the death potion, meant to be drank immediately after the second.

Yeah. That was a bit stressful. A moment too soon and he'd be dead. Nothing to worry about, though, Harry was sure he could manage. He always did.

He had the spells memorized, too, and he could recite all four of them perfectly. He didn't know the hand gestures yet, though, so he decided to study those while he waited on his coffee.

Harry didn't really know why he asked Malfoy for something- and he didn't know why Malfoy abided. Maybe, Harry thought, he thinks I'm too stupid to actually do this. Maybe he thinks I'm going to die. That'd explain the niceness with the coffee and all, but not the taunts. Old habits die hard, he supposed.

Malfoy returned soon with a mug of black coffee and a treacle tart in his hands. He sat it down right to a pile of books. He sat down akwardly next to Harry, seeming to be lost in thought.

"Thanks," Harry said. Draco just nodded

Draco said, almost hesitantly, "Po-" he corrected himself, "Harry. What you have to do- it's...it's nearly impossible. And if you fail then... I don't want us to be on such bad terms-"

"I reject your apology."

Draco was shocked, then infuriated. How dare anyone refuse a Malfoy apology! How dare he!-

"You're only apologizing because you think I will die. Henceforth, it's not a genuine apology," Harry took a sip of his coffe. "I am not weak, Malfoy. I refuse to die. I'm a Slytherin at heart, I believe, and I'm incredibly ambitious when I want to be. I will not die because I will work my ass off to live. I expect to be hexing you again by next week. Expect the same, Malfoy."

Molfoy nodded. "You're the boy who won't die, after all. Good luck, git." And with that he walked out of the library,  probably off to jinx some poor first years.

Harry began the long trip back to the Gyriffidnor dorms, where Snape was supoosed to lay the potion ingredients he needed. Harry, though he oozed confidence, felt a bit useless. He had so much help so far. The Ravenclaws helped him understand the spells; Snape got him the ingredients; Hermione had helped him memorize the spells and potion recipies. He didn't feel like he had done much himself. It was an utterly  crushing feeling.

Nonetheless, he had to cast the spells by himself and make the potions entierly by himself. That was something. That was something he could do himself. Something he HAD to do himself.

The dorm room was mostly empty, the other students must've been off at breakfast. Harry was glad classes were canceled for him this week. He wasn't sure he could take the stress. On his bed sat three elegant emerald chests. They were sorted by what potion he needed them for. He cast a featherweight charm on them and carried them to the library, his new home for the rest of the week. It took a bit of convincing but the librarian had let Harry set up his workshop in the corner, as long as he was quiet. He set the boxes down and lit his three burners.

Harry knew he had to do this right the first try. The first potion took two days to brew, the second and third took three days. They should be done by Saturday. If he messed up, even once, he most certainly wouldn't have time to master the spells and redo the potions at the same time. No, Harry had one chance at this.

Harry worked deep into the night, getting to the point where all potions needed to shimmer overnight, before collasping on the library floor, wrapped in Ron's jacket.