"What seems to us as bitter trials are often blessings in disguise."
– Oscar Wilde

The halls of Hogwarts were silent. Students were in class as the sky slowly let out a layer of snow upon the ground. There was only one week until the Christmas Holiday. Draco Malfoy was dreading, yet another, charms class as he laid his head on his hand, and his wrist grew weak.
"This is honestly ridiculous," he whispered to Pansy Parkinson.
"Shut up, Draco. Some of have to pay attention," she whispered back in a humourous, yet stern, way.
The professor kept teacher as a couple students, including, Draco's dozed off. She may have mentioned something about a test tomorrow, but who's keeping track? Really? Draco's mind was set on one thing and one thing only: Christmas Break.
"I just can't wait to get out of here," he said as he took a deep and steady breath
"Well, charms isn't exactly the most enjoyable class" Pansy responded as she tried to copy what was on the board before the professor erased it.
"Not charms! Hogwarts." Draco turned to Pansy as if she said something to offend him.
"I thought you liked Hogwarts?" Pansy dotted the last "I" and emerged herself fully in conversation.
"Not as much as I used to." Draco turned his head and watched the snow fall through the window.
"I thought things were better…you know…with you-know-who? Well not you-know-who , but you know who I'm talking abo—"
"Yes, I know," Draco said as he tried to keep anyone else from looking, "Things are…weird right now."
"Weird?"
"Yeah, just weird."
"If there's one thing I know about you Draco Malfoy, it that things with Harry Potter and you have never been 'just weird'." She let out a breath through her nose in laughter, as she punched Draco in the arm.
"Would you shut up!?" Draco gritted his teeth together.
"I was only trying to make you feel better,"
"Well it wasn't working." Several students began chattering louder than the professor would have liked.
"Well you didn't have to be such an asshole." Tansy grabbed her charms book and accidentally spilled Draco's ink all over the table. She moved to a table in the back of the class and continued to copy a graph from the text. Draco turned around as if to apologize with his eyes; Tansy looked away as she saw Draco's pathetic expression. Draco pulled out a half-charred locked from beneath his shirt. He twirled it in his fingers as he listened to the sound of quills scratching parchment.
"Draco!" the professor interrupter her lesson, "Why aren't you paying attention?"
Draco looked up and just stared with a blank face.
"What is that you're fooling around with? Give it here"
Draco's blank canvas-for-a-face was quickly filled with gouache paints of, "No…I can't!"
"Excuse me?"
"My… er mum gave it to me!"
"Well, certainly, she didn't give it to you to not pay attention in my class."
Draco slowly unfastened the necklace as he walked toward the professor with her hand out. He prayed for something, anything, that would let him keep it. By the time he reached the professor, she was impatiently tapping her foot. Draco looked at her dry, callused hands as he slowly put the necklace in it. He felt a thud in his stomach, as if a part of his life that was hanging by a thread finally snapped and disappeared.

WHEEEEEEEEEEEE! Just then, a series of fire alarms filled the school. The class stood up, a few of them covering their ears, began rushing out the door. Draco quickly snatched his necklace back from his professor's hands and scampered out of the class.
"Alright, students! Stick together now!" the professor said, "EMILY! Get back in line!"

Hundreds of students began making their way out of their classes. No one knew what was going on, and the majority thought it was another drill. As Draco passed the South Hall, he could see a dense grey cloud of smoke moving toward him. He tucked his nose in his shirt and found a way to the nearest exit. Eventually, he joined back with his class without the professor noticing that he was gone for a bit. Several other professors went back inside the school to tame the smoke and fire. A few students glanced at Seamus,
"It wasn't me, I swear!"
Groups of students rubbed their forearms to keep warm in the cold weather. Most of the first years were crying as they had no idea how to cast any spells to keep themselves warm, with the given situation. It wasn't long before Fred and George came around offering blankets (5 galleons apiece, of course). Eventually, a few sixth and seventh year students set up a tent for everyone to wait in.
"This fire must have been really serious if the entire faculty could disappear without telling us what's going on," Ronald Weasley said from a corner. Several students turned to face him as he sounded more hot-headed than usual. Ron was sitting with Harry, Seamus, Dean and Hermione. Draco turned to see what Ron was all worked up about. He managed to make eye contact with Harry, but only for a moment because Harry stood up and left. Draco felt a cold shiver pass though him. He managed to fake a smile, but knew he was dying inside.

It was at least an hour before any news returned to the tent. By this point in time, no one really remembered why they were crammed in a poorly-lit fabric, but students were laughing and playing games. Music was playing and the Weasley brothers managed to seize the moment for a generous profit selling odds and ends for Christmas presents. Before the Hufflepuffs could showcase their new song, Dumbledore walked in.
"I regret to inform you all, but I have some very unfortunate news," he began. The tent quickly silenced as it had been weeks since Dumbledore was seen at Hogwarts, "As most of you have guessed, there has been a sudden inferno, if I may, in the South Hall. Before I continue, I'd like to offer my sincerest apologies, as I was unable to provide you all with a form of shelter. It really does, however, please me to see that a few of you have taken the initiative to provide said shelter. Anyway, it the fire has done quite some damage and a couple classrooms have been completely destroyed. It just so happens that all of professor Snape's classes, both past and current, were victims to this fire. So until further notice, all Defense Against the Dark Arts classes are cancelled." A few students moaned and complained; others were happy they didn't have to see Snape anymore. "So with that said, a few changes will be made to your schedules. I hope they're not too upsetting, as they may just be temporary." Dumbledore put his hands together, smiled, and then left the tent. The crowd of students then rushed out of the tent and checked their schedules in the main hall. Some were pleased, others not so much, nonetheless they day had ended with a…bang.

The sun rose, and a part of Hogwarts was still burnt black. The area where the fire broke out was closed off, and quite a many students had to find their way to their new classes. Draco was among the many whose classes were changed. He looked at his timetable, "You have got to be kidding. Poetry?" Just then, Pansy walked passed. Draco immediately followed and tried to apologize,
"Apologize for what?" Pansy said as she walked to class with her head held high.
"I want to apologize…" Draco began,
"Mmhmm" she put her hands on her hips
"For being an asshole yesterday."
Tansy hugged her Draco and grinned, "Great! Now that we're back on good terms, how messed up are your classes?"
"Well, I still got charms third, with you, but now I have poetry first."
"Really? That's so weird because a small bird told me a few people just so happen to have poetry first period" Pansy bit her lip as she teased.
Draco looked at Pansy so quickly, he could have nearly severed his spinal cord, "No," he said in denial.
Pansy smiled and nodded.
"You're joking," Draco's pale face glowed like a full moon.
"Well, I don't know about you, but I don't fancy being late to my first new class." Pansy walked off down the hall, separating from Draco. Draco then headed up the stairs and walked in his new class, only six minutes and forty seconds late. His new professor was wearing a red blouse, had wavy, blonde hair and square glasses. She was writing on the board, "Any specific reason why you're so late?"
"I had some trouble finding the class."
"Surely after six years at Hogwarts, you must be fully capable of finding a room," She turned around and put her hands on her hips, subconsciously trying not to let the chalk-dusted hands touch her clothes. "Anyway, find a seat."
Draco looked around and found that the only vacant chair was next to Harry Potter. Draco wanted to sit there, but wouldn't dare—not after what they've been through. He prayed that the teacher would order him to sit next to Harry, just so Harry wouldn't think that Draco's being pushy. Draco looked awkwardly at Harry; he scratched the back of his ear as he slowly made his way to the table. Why can't Hogwarts have single-seated tables, he thought. Draco sat up straight and avoided any physical contact with Harry. The two looked straight at the board and avoided any sort of conversation— it was a very awkward sight.
"Okay class, let's begin. Again." She started, "My name is Melinda Reef; you will call me Miss R. I am ever so sorry for being the only teacher in Hogwarts whose name isn't any sort of alliteration." She began speaking sarcastically, "Now I'm sure you're all thrilled to hear about my amazing life, however we have less than a week to get three units of poetry done. Long story short, I'm from Canada, no I do not live in an igloo." The class laughed. They seemed to respond positively to her wittiness and Western accent.

Miss R handed out relatively thin textbooks and talked about poetry, telling the occasional joke. She explained literary devices, types of poems and explained in great detail that poems do not have to rhyme. She showed her class a few examples of Def Jam Poetry from America. She then had her students compare and contrast the style of poetry from the Elizabethan Era to today in the form of a one-thousand-word essay.

"Alright, guys. You've got half an hour to write a haiku about anything in this world. You can talk if you'd like, but if it gets out of control, there will be no talking whatsoever." She waved her wand and little strips of paper were handed out to each student, "Now good poetry is good imagery. I want you to do several rough drafts or your haiku. When you think you're finished, I want you to imagine every detail of your haiku and write it on the parchment I've provided."
"What's so special about this parchment, Miss?" A student asked from the front of the class,
"Well, I thought someone 'ought to ask eventually." She smiled, "You'll see."

After half an hour, Miss R interrupted the slight chatter that filled the room.
"Alright, who wants to go first?"
"What?" a student asked, "You never told us that we had to present 'em."
"Well, that's too bad," she looked at her clipboard, "Tommy…Willingtons. You get present first."
"Ugh, fine." Tommy walked up to the front of the class with his parchment at hand, he began reading, "Some roses are red, other roses can be blue, flowers smell very nice."
Draco looked at Tommy and laughed in disappointment. For a second, he turned to Harry to see if he caught the joke. He paused midway and his smile blew away with a silent, bitter sigh.
"What was supposed to happen with the parchment, Miss?" he looked at the ground in embarrassment.
"What were you imagining as you wrote your Haiku?"
"Err…flowers?"
"Just flowers? Did you not hear me when I said that you needed to 'imagine every detail', or did that just slip your mind?"
"I duuno,"
Miss R sighed, "That parchment isn't exactly cheap." She shook her head and pointed Tommy to his seat, " What a waste," she said under her breath, "Alright, who wants to try to top that?" No one looked up. She slowly skimmed the class, and her heels echoed throughout the stone room. Draco held the back of his head, trying to look as casual as possible. He stared at the back of Harry's head, and noticed a pair of grey hairs behind his ear. He opened his mouth to say something, but remembered that things would never be the same. How could I have done that twice within the minute, he thought. There wasn't much he could say or do to get Harry back. He closed his mouth and raised his hand,
"I'll go, professor." Draco hoped to impress Harry, in an effort to win him back, or even just a conversation.
"Please, just call me 'Miss' or 'Miss R'."
Draco walked to the front of the class and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and opened them as he exhaled, "A city flower," he began. The words on the parchment began to glow a pale blue, "Whoa!"
"Continue!," Miss R demanded enthusiastically,
"A city flower, bruised by the hostile noises…waiting to wither." A beam of light flew out from the parchment. Like a patronus charm, a cloud of light took the form of a city. Sounds of cars passing and the smell of carbon dioxide polluting the air filled the classroom. The lights dimmed and footsteps and honking horns could be heard from all corners. The sound waves of the metropolis were visible and they lit up the room, hitting each brick like like ripples in a pond. Indistinct faces and empty vessels holding briefcases walked through the walls. A flower with six sharp pedals took form in the light. A pedal fell off and faded back into the parchment as the lights in the classroom slowly re-illuminated.

The class was silent. Draco stared at the parchment as his eyes readjusted to the light. He moved his eyes the corner of the room to see if Harry was looking. Harry was staring right at Draco. Draco wasn't sure whether or not to look way.

"Whoa!" Harry said in shock. Draco could feel a sweat form on his fingertips. "Miss R, that was some really impressive magic!"
"Thank you, Mr. Potter," she smiled. Draco's faint smile disappeared with the compliment that was stolen from him; he knew harry did it deliberately. Draco sat down, "You can keep that, if you'd like Draco." She said, "Good job." Draco nodded with a noticeably fake smile and brushed off a single speck of dust from his shoulder.

The class went on and several other scenarios were displayed. The class witnessed the bottom of the ocean and the bottom of volcanoes. They went to space, to the future. Meadows and pastures, infinite numbers of microbes and more. Draco sat in silence next to Harry. He couldn't enjoy the magnificent displays knowing that things between Harry and him were going to be weird forever. Draco didn't want to go public. He couldn't handle it. If his father found out, he'd probably be sent out on the streets. The tough-guy reputation he'd spend years on establishing would vanish in an instant. If that happened, all the melancholy from before Hogwarts would start all over again. Draco tried to apologize, but Harry was never satisfied. He remembered the words exactly,
"I don't want your apology. All I need is for you to stop being such a bloody coward. I've been adjusting my life for YOU far too long— I can't take it any more. If you're too scared to simply hold my hand in the hallway, then I don't want anything to do with you."

The week went on, and thirty-nine students were eager to get to Miss R's poetry class. It was the Friday before Christmas break, and Miss R had everyone write freestyle poems.A few students presented presents for her, too. The South Hall was fully repaired and it was only a matter of time before regular timetables were restored— no one would ever see Miss R again. She played music to ease the tension. Only a few students disagreed with the musical selection.
"Now you all know how much I love hearing your poems," Miss R began, "So I want each of you to present your poems to the class." Her voice softened, If you'd like that extra percent or two, it won't be such a bad idea!"
More than half the class presented their poems. Most of them weren't very lengthy, but Miss R didn't seem to mind. She managed to get half the class to present; she even bribed a few that refused to budge with sour gummy worms.
"You guys are really getting a firm grasp on what poetry is. I'm really glad to see a lot of you are really putting a lot of attention into the detail. Just one thing, remember to keep the big picture clear!" She sat on her desk and took a sip of her coffee, "but I'm surprised all of your poems rhymed…"
Draco and Harry were back-to-back. Miss R was confused to see such dull faces during such a bright time. "Harry? Draco?" she asked
"Yes?" they responded completely synchronized.
"You two have been awfully quiet today; is something bothering you two?"
"No, we're perfectly fine,"Harry narrowed his eyes at Draco.
"Harry, why don't you come up and read your poem to the class. You haven't said much all week."
Harry shuffled through the papers in his books, "I think I've forgotten my poem in the common room." He tried to lie as best as he could, as he peaked at the unfinished and doodled-on parchment in front of him, "I could run up and get it, if you'd like?"
"Oh, that won't be necessary." Miss R said as she took another sip of her coffee, "What about you, Draco? I see you've written a lot. Your haiku was also quite impressive earlier this week."
He rolled the corners of the page, "I don't know, Miss…"
"Come on, Draco! Don't put Slytherin to shame now," a boy in the very back of the class stood up. He had teeth growing in all directions and greasy, black hair. Once he sat down, Snape walked passed and heard Draco refuse a second time. Snape glared at Draco and then walked away before Miss R could notice. Draco didn't have much of a choice.

Draco stood up with a half-wrinkled piece of parchment at hand. He held it with a weightless grip as he walked to the front of the class. Dozens of eyes were watching his every move; he felt a cold shiver echo its way from his neck to his arms. He held the parchment to his face and glanced up at Harry who, for once, seemed to be listening. Miss R sat patiently on her desk with her legs crossed. Draco swallowed and looked up at the clock. Draco took a deep breath,
"Every time I try to reach you, I end up taking two steps backward." Harry looked up and listened. "In a world that's survival of the fittest, it isn't easy to run in a minefield. I close my eyes, and I see your smile. I close my ears, and your heart beats steady. The simple pulse of push and pulls gives me more butterflies than Mauna Kea. I hate seeing you happy when I'm not the reason why. And these selfish emotions make me want to go vegan. I know I'd never hurt myself intentionally, but seeing you bleed leaves me with the deepest of scars. Especially when I'm holding the shards of broken 'sorry'. In a school with over eight-hundred people, I've never been more lonely. Lost at sea, I don't know which way I came from. If I go south, land may be east, and everything looks the same. I turn around and there you are—waiting like you promised. I look into your eyes… and I'm home."
Each word hit Harry like a penny dropped from a skyscraper. He stared deep into Draco's eyes, seeing the familiar face struggling to keep the tears from falling. The bell rang and students flooded out of the classes and into the Great Hall for lunch. Draco pushed through the swarms of people, in an attempt to reflect alone. He left his books behind. Harry quickly gathered the stacks of parchment and paperbacked textbooks. Quills poked out as he tried to follow Draco. Harry dropped everything in a corner behind a dusty, stone statue. After several minutes, Harry remembered the one and only place Draco would retreat to— the third-floor lavatory.

Harry walked into the lavatory and noticed all the faucets were running. He quickly went to turn them off as he heard sniffs coming from the corner. He opened one of the toilet stalls and saw Draco curled up. His custom tailored black suit was covered in dust as he sat on the floor.
"Draco?" Harry put his hand on Draco's shoulders.
Draco looked up, surprised to see Harry. His eyes were red and glazed.
Harry tried to think of what to say, but couldn't come up with anything. He held Draco tightly and pressed his face against Draco's hair. Draco felt conflicted, like a familiar stranger to Harry.
"I'm sorry," Draco struggled to say between breaths and hiccups.
Harry waited for Draco to calm, "Does this mean… you're ready?"
"Harry, I don't think I'll ever be," Draco looked at Harry, who was looking back concerned and scared, "But I want to. I want to so badly. I need you Harry; nothing makes sense when you're not around."
Harry sat quiet for a moment, "You know I'd do anything for you," he whispered, "Draco, I'd die for you, if I'd have to."
"Then please, please say you'll stay," Draco looked into Harry's eyes and bit his lip to keep himself from crying.
Harry simply hugged Draco as hard as he could, "I never left."