Draco grinned. 'Nothing, I just threatened him with a little wizard dueling…. You know he's no good at that kind of thing.'
'Well, you were brilliant, the look on his face! And the way he ran!'
Hermione dissolved into giggles. Draco looked over at her, and, without even pausing to ask himself what on earth he was doing, dropped his Firebolt and his Quidditch robes, grabbed Hermione, and kissed her.
For a moment, she melted into the kiss. Then her arms went as rigid as broomsticks and she shoved him away. 'Harry, no!' Her eyes, huge and shocked, stared at him.
For the first time in his life, Draco found he had nothing to say.
'You shouldn't make fun of me this way,' said Hermione, tears springing into her eyes. 'It isn't fair.'
'I'm not making fun of you!' gurgled Draco, finding his voice.
'It isn't fair,' she repeated, 'Harry, you're my best friend, and I know how you feel about Cho-' 'Cho?' Draco's mind was blank. 'The Ravenclaw Seeker?'
Hermione stared.
'That explains why she was acting like that!' Draco exclaimed, then glanced back up at Hermione and said brightly, 'Look, I'm well over her, Hermione. She's not even-' 'Harry!' she said warningly.
They looked at each other. Then Draco did something else he had never done before.
'I'm sorry, Hermione,' he said.
Her expression softened, so he added hopefully: 'I?ve been feeling off since, uh, since Draco banged my head into the ground in Potions-' This had been the wrong thing to say. Hermione turned her face away. 'It's all right,' she said in a very small voice, starting to walk again. 'I know you didn't mean it.'
What on earth is wrong with me, he thought, following her back towards to the castle. This Polyjuice business is affecting my mind.
They were halfway there when he saw Ron running toward them along the darkening path. 'Harry!' he yelled. 'I can't believe I missed Care of Magical Creatures! I heard you totally destroyed Goyle!'
'Destroyed is a little strong,' Draco protested, but he was laughing as Ron steered him up the path.
'I've got to go to the library,' said Hermione as they stepped inside the castle.
'Sorry!' and she ran off without a backward glance.
Ron looked after her curiously. 'Is she all right?'
'Just panicked about our Charms exam tomorrow, you know how she is,' lied Draco, and felt an annoying little twinge of guilt as he did so.
When they got to the Gryffindor common room, Dean Thomas and Neville Longbottom gestured them over with yells of welcome. Draco wasn't in the mood, though. He pushed past them and headed upstairs, where he sat for a long time staring at the photo album full of wizard photographs of Harry's parents, who waved at him, beamed, and smiled in a way he could never remember his own parents doing.
Hermione had, in fact, gone to the library, but not to study. She needed a moment to think and be alone.
Harry had kissed her. Oughtn?t she to be ecstatic, or at least pleased? She had been thrilled when he had put his arms around her, but seconds later had been swamped by a feeling of terrible wrongness the like of which she had never experienced before. That was why she had pushed him away. She knew Harry so well, she thought, knew how he looked when he woke up, how he sounded when he was tired, happy, afraid, worried; how he smelled, usually like soap and grass from the Quidditch practice field. But this time, when she?d put her arms around him, he?d smelled different….like…pepper?
She groaned and put her head down on the desk. Hermione, she thought, you are so stupid. You?ve been in love with Harry for years, so what if he changed his cologne?
She got up and headed downstairs to dinner.
That night, at the Gryffindor table, Draco sat between Ron and Hermione (who seemed determined to act as if nothing had happened), feeling oddly not hungry.
He pushed his food around his plate with his fork and listened to them laugh and chatter. His mind buzzed with questions. Why had nobody noticed he wasn't Harry? Surely he couldn't be acting like Potter, he hated Potter, he couldn't act like him if he tried. He just looked like Harry, so everyone assumed he was Harry, and so they liked him. Not just Gryffindors, but Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, students whose names Draco had never bothered to learn, came up and chatted with him easily. It was disorienting.
What was more disorienting was that he liked it, it was as if in taking on Harry's appearance he had taken some part of Harry into himself, and he couldn't kill it or destroy it. It just sat there in his chest, making him do things like rescue Neville's toad, save Hermione from the Bludger and….and kiss Hermione. He couldn't believe he had done that, either. Why? It must be that Harry had some kind of feelings for her, and now Draco had them. But if she knew….knew who he really was…..
Something that had been nagging at the back of his mind suddenly crystallized into a sharp and painful thought. What if Harry died? What if he never woke up?
Would he, Draco Malfoy, be doomed to be Harry Potter forever?
'Harry,' came Hermione's voice, 'What's wrong? You look a million miles away.'
Draco pushed his chair back from the table and stood up suddenly. 'Got to go,' he muttered, and, pushing his way past a startled Ron and Hermione, he ran out of the dining hall, through the front hall, and up the stairs to the hospital wing.
He banged on the closed door until it was opened by a harassed-looking Madam Pomfrey, whose eyes widened when she saw him.
'What's wrong, Potter, are you ill?' she demanded.
'I'm here because… I need to see….Malfoy,' he gasped, out of breath. 'Is he still knocked out?'
