Кассандра Клэр: Draco Dormiens

"No one can stand me like this," said Harry. "But I suppose you´re used to that, Malfoy."

Draco turned his eyes on Harry, who squirmed. It was really difficult to look at Draco and see his own face screwed up with dislike, the green eyes he saw every morning in the mirror now regarding him with contempt. If Draco felt the same compunction, he didn´t show it. "Do you remember what I told you that time on the train, Potter?" he asked.

"Which time," said Harry in a bored tone, "the time where you threatened to hold me down and force-feed me slugs or the time you called me a four-eyed toad?"

Draco snorted with mirth. "The time I told you I could help you out," he said.

"Any time you want to throw over that overgrown git and that puffy-haired Mudblood you hang around with, I can show you how to get your hands on some real power."

"Let me think about that," said Harry, slowly. "Right, I´ve thought about it. No."

Dracoś now-green eyes sparkled with malice behind Harryś glasses. "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure," Harry snapped his anger building. "You can take me off the evil mailing list, Malfoy, I am not interested."

Harry rather expected Malfoy to make a rude response to this, but instead Malfoy was staring at him with an odd expression. "What is it," said Harry, glancing down, "am I changing back?"

"Thatś just it," said Malfoy. "You´re not. Everyone else has. Look."

Harry glanced around and saw that this was true. Everyone had resumed their seats, back in their own bodies. Snape had gone back to lecturing about the uses of Polyjuice Potion, apparently confident that all his students were back to their rightful selves. Harry looked wildly down at himself, then back at Draco.

"How — how longś it been?"

"Forty-five minutes," said Draco, consulting his Rolex. "We ought to have changed back by now."

"Well, whatś going on?"

Malfoy shook his head, an odd little smile on his face. "I wish I knew," he said.

Harryś heart began to pound wildly. "Did you do something to the Potion?" he hissed. "Malfoy-" "Of course not, Potter," said Malfoy with contempt, "d´you really think I want-" But Harry wasn´t listening. He grabbed hold of Dracoś robe and yanked him forward. "Turn me back!" he hissed violently. "Do it now, or I´ll break your face!"

Malfoy, who wasn´t used to Muggle expressions like "break your face", looked at Harry blankly. Then he started to laugh. This was too much for Harry, who swung at Draco and landed a solid punch on his jaw, which knocked him to the floor. His quill, cauldron, and books rained down around him. Harry jumped down out of his seat, grabbed Draco by the front of his robes, and the two of them rolled over and over, hitting at each other with relish.

The rest of the class swung around to look at them, and Snape began running towards them, shouting at them to desist. Harry let go of Draco, suddenly shocked, but Draco, apparently thinking Harry was about to hit him again, lunged upward and landed a perfect uppercut to Harryś chin. Harry, who had been looking over at Snape, was unprepared for this assault. He flew backward and slammed into the wall, knocking his head hard against the ancient stone.

Everything went black.

Draco stood up and leaned against his desk, gasping for breath. Harry had knocked the wind out of him. Fighting the ringing noise in his ears, he looked around. There was Harry — still looking like Draco — lying sprawled on the stone floor, blood pooling under his head. Draco looked away, suddenly afraid he was about to get in some real trouble, and saw Snape, struggling to restrain a frantic Ron and Hermione, who were fighting to get to him. As he watched, Hermione broke free and ran to him, seizing him by the sleeve of his robes. "Harry," she sobbed. "Are you all right?"

Draco just stared at her blankly. She thought he was Harry. He looked up, saw the stunned faces of the Gryffindors watching him, the scowls on the faces of the Slytherins. They all thought he was Harry.

Snape strode forward and peeled Hermione off him, shoving her aside. Draco could hear the buzzing as the other students yelled at Snape — the Slytherins were silent, but the Gryffindors were all shouting that Draco had punched Harry first.

Snape came oozing up to Draco and peered into his face. "Potter," he said. "Can you explain this to me?"

Draco opened his mouth to say, "I´m not Potter, the Polyjuice Potion isn´t working, it should have worn off by now and it hasn´t-" But what came out was, "I don´t know, Professor. He hit me first."

What happened after that was a bit of a blur for Draco. He was marched up to the hospital wing by Snape, who was carrying Harryś limp body, the sight of which gave Draco a queasy feeling whenever he looked at it. He kept feeling his own face, his hair, to see if he´d begun turning back into himself, but he hadn´t.

Nothing happened.

Madam Pomfrey was waiting for them; she instructed Snape to lay Harry down on a bed surrounded by curtains, into which she vanished. Draco wound up sitting in a hard chair across from Snape, who was staring at him, eyes glittering with malice.

"If Draco dies," he hissed in an undertone, "you´ll be a murderer, Potter. How do you like that?"

Dracoś mouth sagged open in shock, but before he could say anything, Madam Pomfrey emerged and shook her head at Snape. "Draco Malfoy is not going to die," she said severely. "Heś got a nasty bump on the head and he´ll probably be out until morning, but heś otherwise perfectly fine."

A look of relief flashed across Snapeś face. Draco was touched. This wore off quickly, however, as Snape jabbed a finger into his solar plexus and hissed, "I´m not even going to bother taking points from Gryffindor, Potter. I´m going straight to Dumbledore." And he stood up and stalked out of the room.

Madam Pomfrey snorted. "I wouldn´t worry, Harry," she said, "Heś all talk.

Dumbledore knows what Draco Malfoyś like. Now sit still." And she began sponging the cuts on his face. "You´ll have a lovely black eye, Potter," she said, "and a cut lip. What did you-" But the door of the infirmary burst open and Ron and Hermione came pouring in, their eyes lighting up when they saw Draco. Madam Pomfrey leaped up to head them off, and Draco took the opportunity to sidle over to Harryś bed and look down at him.

It was a horrible feeling, like one of those dreams where he was dead and looking down at his own body. Harry lay with his arms crossed, still looking exactly like Draco in every particular, his white-blond hair bloody where his head had hit the wall. Draco felt a wave of nausea overcome him and he stepped back, which was fortunate because at that moment Ron and Hermione hit him head-on like a bullet train. "Harry, oh Harry!" Hermione was exclaiming, "Are you OK?"

Ron was more interested in clapping him on the back and congratulating him on the uppercut he´d delivered to Harry in Potions. Draco allowed himself a smile.

"It was fantastic, wasn´t it?" he agreed. "The way he just flew backwards!"

Madam Pomfrey shooed them towards the door, which Ron was now holding open. Draco gave a last glance back at Harry as they left the infirmary. He hadn´t moved.

Draco trailed after Ron and Hermione as they hurried back towards Gryffindor Tower. Ron kept up a steady stream of chatter, the topic of which seemed to be how pleased everyone in Gryffindor would be that Harry had nearly killed Draco Malfoy in Potions. "Fred and George are thrilled," said Ron, "they hate that slimy git, he never plays fair at Quidditch-"

'No more do they!" yelped Malfoy in indignation, then clapped his hand over his mouth, but they had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady now and he got busy looking like his head really hurt so no one would look to him for the password.