Harry Potter and The Boy Who Had No Choice

Happy Place

A/N: There is mention and description of panic attacks in this chapter. Just wanted to warn you.

Chapter Eighteen

After dinner, Harry had to immediately rush off to Slughorn's classroom for detention. While he was still slightly tired from his previous night's lack of sleep, he was feeling slightly more energized after a full meal. He managed to burst into the classroom right as it hit seven o'clock, just barely arriving on time.

Malfoy was tapping his foot impatiently beside Slughorn, who was bent over his desk writing something. Harry cleared his throat to announce his presence and Slughorn whirled around and greeted him.

"Ah, Harry, my boy! Glad to have you! For a minute, I was worried you wouldn't show." Malfoy was glaring daggers at Harry, and Harry gulped and tried to ignore it.

"Sorry, professor, I was running late."

"No matter, no matter. You're here now." He gestured for Harry and Malfoy to follow him, and reluctantly they did. Harry continued to steal glances at the blonde boy as they trailed behind the professor: he was still suspicious of Malfoy's friendship with Luna. "For today's detention, I'm going to need you boys to organize my potions cupboard." Harry resisted groaning as he looked around the small room: it was a complete mess. "One of the Nifflers for Care of Magical Creatures found its way into my classroom and decided to search the potions cupboard for gold, causing a bit of chaos in the process."

"A bit?" Harry heard Malfoy mumble under his breath. He bit back a laugh.

"You'll have to do it without wands of course. Wouldn't be a punishment if you had wands." He started walking out of the room, but turned around to face them once he reached the doorway. "I should be back around ten o'clock to dismiss you. Best of luck!"

He sauntered off, leaving the two boys alone. Malfoy moved to start sorting through the ingredients, and handed Harry an armful of various jars and glasses full of odd plants.

"Start with these," he stated, shoving more containers at him. "Separate them by color, and let me know once you've finished."

Malfoy seemed particularly tense this evening, so Harry simply did as he was told and began to sort the jars, even though he was itching to prod the Slytherin boy about Luna. As suspicious as he was, he really wasn't in the mood to get in a fight this evening, especially given that in the last duel they had, Malfoy should've won.

That was another thing he needed to ask the blonde about. At the time, he thought it wasn't possible, but looking back, Malfoy threw that fight. Malfoy let him win; Harry needed to know why. Of course, that was a discussion for another day.

A few minutes passed and Malfoy seemed to have loosened up a bit. Now maybe he won't attack me the minute I speak to him, Harry thought to himself. Just as he was about to open his mouth, there was a crash at his feet.

"You idiot!" Now Malfoy was yelling at him, pointing at him with a sprig of what looked like rosemary, but couldn't be rosemary, because it smelled putrid. "You clumsy idiot!"

While he was sorting, Harry had accidentally brushed a jar of shredded Boomslang off of the shelf, letting it smash to the floor.

Harry began to bend down to gather up the pieces of broken glass but Malfoy caught him by the arm and stopped him. His long, delicate fingers wrapped around Harry's wrist, his fingertips pressing against his skin. His grip was firm, but not aggressive, and Harry almost jumped at the contact: it suddenly felt as if electricity was rushing through his arm.