Draco Malfoy loved Potions. It was taught deep in the dungeons by his favorite teacher, Professor Snape. Most of the school hated Snape, even some of the other teachers. He was a greasy haired man in his 40's. He always wore the same black robes and had the most penetrating eyes Draco had ever seen. He had often suspected that Snape had concocted a potion long ago that gave him some sort of mind reading powers.

This wasn't a problem though, because Draco's father, Lucious Malfoy, and Snape were very good friends. Draco need not worry about being called on when he didn't know the answer, or forced to test out a potion he had slacked off on the way Snape was doing to Potter this very minute. Harry Potter.

Draco stretched out in his chair and looked towards the front of the class. Harry had been goofing off with that stupid git Ron Weasley and forgot to add the batwings to his healing potion. He watched merrily as Snape pulled out his wand and made a long cut on the back of Harry's arm. It probably hadn't hurt him because it was a simple charm, but Draco could dream, couldn't he? Harry swallowed his potion with a woeful look at Weasley.

Nothing happened for a few seconds, and Draco was disappointed. He didn't know the consequences of a healing potion with no bat wings, but he was hoping for something dreadfully painful.

With an annoyed look and Hermione Granger, who he suspected had helped Potter at the last second, Snape healed the cut with his wand and told Harry to go sit down. On his way back to his seat, he let out a moan and grabbed his stomach. Green mist was pouring out of his ears, and his finger nails were shrinking. Potter was in obvious discomfort and Draco snickered. Snape sent him off the hospital wing with no expression on his face at all.

As Draco walked into his next class, Defense Against the Dark Arts, he saw Potter and Weasley trying to stop the bubbles that were shooting out of Neville Longbottom's wand. Stupid git, Draco thought to himself. Disgrace the name of wizardry, Longbottom is. Ignoring his dissapointment that Potter was well enough to come to class, he took his usual seat and noticed that he didn't recognize the witch standing in front of the class.

She was really good looking, for a teacher, Draco thought. Straight black hair just passed her shoulders, and deep brown eyes. He was startled when she spoke. Ohh fuck, He said under his breath. She's a Nyress.

A Nyress was someone who had been jinxed so many times as a child, they lost practically all the human in them. They were like an empty shell; beautiful on the outside, but inside they were empty. The only way to make a Nyress useful was to put a charm on her, and feed her information. She would remember this information for three days, and after that it would be gone. They were often used as fill-in teachers, but you could always recognize them because they tend to look directly at the floor when speaking.

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Harry walked into class two minutes late. He was aware of the stares he was getting, but Neville had managed to jinx his hands so that they stuck to the wall. He couldn't very well reach his wand, so he had to wait until someone else walked by to un-jinx him.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," a voice said. "Late, are we?"

He looked around and saw that the voice was of a Nyress fill-in. A very pretty one.

"Oh, erm..yeah. Sorry about that. There was a...problem," Harry responded, looking at Neville. "In the hall. I got jinxed."

"Oh, well I was just telling the class that my name is Mrs. Turley, and I'll be filling in for the next few days," She told him. At least he thought she was talking to him. You couldn't really tell with Nyresses; they never looked at you. "I was just about to pair you up for your mid- term project, and since you're already standing up, I'll do you first."

Harry wondered how much he had missed while he was stuck to the wall. Mid-term project? That was an American thing. Hopefully he and Ron or Hermione would do theirs together.

"How about you and that blonde boy, the one who's been staring at me since he walked into the room," she suggested.

He heard a groan from the Slytherin side of the room. Malfoy. Oh God, no. Anyone but Malfoy. He started to protest, and saw that Malfoy had too, but Mrs. Turley was already pairing up the others. Harry sat down in his usual seat, noticing that everyone else had already moved to sit by their partners. Draco was staring icily back at him. Neither of them wanted to move. I can beat him out, Harry thought. I could sit here for hours.

Harry saw Mrs. Turley clap her hands in front of Draco's face, and bark at him to move to his partner.

"Well, Potter," Draco whispered. "This should be fun. You get that little mudblood friend of yours to do the project for us, and we're set."

"I wouldn't help you if you were on fire, Malfoy." Hermione hissed.

It was then that Malfoy realized he was surrounded by Gryffindors, and all the Slytherins looked too busy to care. He gulped, and sat down farther in his seat. Harry noticed that the smirk he usually wore, the same one that had made Hermione punch him in the face two years ago, was gone. Harry was pleased.

"You're right Malfoy," Harry said, slamming a book down in front of him, "This will be fun."