Two Sides of the Same Coin(DRARRY)

CHAPTER NINE

"Hatreds are the cinders of affection." - Walter Raleigh

"Today you are going to be conducting tests and observations of two different potions – which you will see in front of you in the table-cauldrons at your desks. Your task is to determine which is the poison and which is the antidote," said Slughorn. Finally, something interesting that would test Draco's ingenuity. "You might do well to compile a list of distinctions before you begin. Can someone identify one characteristic of a poison for me? Mr. Potter?"

Draco lowered the hand that had been hovering above the desk back to his lap. He looked at Potter with the rest of the class. The problem, however, was that Potter didn't notice. He was scowling at his parchment and stabbing it with the sharp tip of his quill, causing ink to bleed across the page like the black blood of mortal wounds. It made Draco nauseous to look at; images he'd taken great pains to bury reared their sickening postmortem heads again, like zombies from the grave. He averted his eyes.

He'd noticed Potter speaking earnestly to a stoic Weasley at breakfast this morning, while Granger fretted and dithered and did no good. Potter must be on the outs with the Weasel again. God, but that redhead embodied the cliché, he was so damn moody and unreasonable.

"Mr. Potter?" Slughorn repeated.

Potter kept stabbing. Draco kicked him under the table. That got Potter's attention; he paused his impalement of his parchment to glare at Draco. Draco inclined his head subtly toward the front of the room. Comprehension dawned in Potter's eyes, the green going from almost black annoyance to mossy anxiety in a second.

"Um, yes?" he addressed Slughorn.

Slughorn sighed. "Never mind, Potter. Mr. Malfoy, if you please?"

Draco preened. "When a catalyst is added to a poison, it will boil, while the antidote would have no reaction."

"Indeed. However, the catalyst is unique to each poison and will need to be identified before it does any good. And that's the only hint I will give you," he said, winking indulgently. "Well, then. That should give you an idea of how to begin. Off to work!"

"God, this is impossible," Potter moaned. "How are we ever going to do this?" He slumped backwards in his chair.

"It's not so bad. We need to find the catalyst, right? I mean, that's obvious. So first, we need to identify some properties of the potions. We can start with some basics – color, consistency, acidity – and see what that tells us before we make it any more complicated. Then we can start making hypotheses about what the catalyst is. After that, it's just trial and error, process of elimination," explained Draco, well aware of how Potter was looking at him – eyes wide and clear, lips slightly parted with something akin to awe or admiration.

"Well, if it's so easy you should have just said so," he said.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Honestly, it only sounds really complicated. In reality, even you might not be a complete hindrance for once."

"Gee, I'm flattered, Malfoy. I didn't know you cared," Potter said sarcastically.

Some kind of acidic fission exploded in Draco's stomach. "I don't," he snapped, an unwarranted overreaction.

"Um, right. I was just ... never mind," muttered Potter, the admiration snuffed out like a suffocated flame.

Slughorn passed by then, and paused to give them a wobbly but stern look. "Boys," he said, "stop bickering and get to work. Now."

Draco crossed his eyes in irritation at the professor's expansive retreating back, and heard a snicker to his right. Upon investigation, the snicker had been produced by Potter, whose eyes were crinkled and bright and whose lips were quirked against a grin. Draco's belly filled with a pleasant and unusual warmth, like he'd just taken a sip of hot tea.