A/N: I'M BAAAAACCCCCKKKKK! So, I took a year off touring Europe...okay that's a blatant lie. I was busy with marching band, then I got mono and was sick for three months, yeah it sucked, and I had Montco band and pit orchestra and got a social life and had no free time because of spoofing and finals! But now it is summer. And here I am. I wrote this a while ago and my dear friend Crick118, would not listen to any of my crap and made me post this. I don't know where it's going to go, but if you guys like it and would care to read more, I'd be more than happy to write it. I'll try to update better, and you guys can hassle me if I'm procrastinating like usual.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything Harry Potter related. I probably don't even own this plot.
Also, this takes place sixth year at Hogwarts as a side note. Here we go!
Chapter One: Because Every Good Story Needs to Start Somewhere
Harry scooped a spoonful of porridge and lifted it into the air until it was level with his mouth and then unceremoniously let it plop back into his bowl, making it look most unpleasant while it grew cold. Hermione was buried behind the Daily Prophet, only her bushy hair visible over top of the paper. Ron seemed to be dozing off and kept jerking his head back up and opening his eyes before swaying sideways off of the bench, falling onto Neville. Even at Hogwarts, the first day of school was just as slow and tired as any other muggle school. Professor McGonagall walked by briskly, shoving course schedules under their noses, startling the sleepy students. Harry looked down at his schedule expecting a dreadful first Monday; probably double Potions and History of Magic with his luck. He read over his third class of the day again, taken aback. He glanced at Hermione and Ron's schedules seeing if they had been assigned the same class.
"Family Consumer Science?" questioned Hermione, looking at Harry, puzzled. "Why on earth would they be springing this new subject on us now? Isn't this something they teach at muggle schools?"
"It is…" Harry turned to hear Ron's opinion, but unfortunately the red head had fallen asleep in his plate of french toast.
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The very large, random pendulum that appeared in the Hogwarts grounds swung dangerously as it chimed eleven o'clock. Ready for their third class, the trio walked down an unknown corridor, scouting out classroom three. They met some other Gryffindors, and unluckily, Slytherins as well waiting by the door. They all shared the differencing looks of curiosity and skepticism.
"Why hello there!" The classroom door opened to reveal a rather short man with wispy grey hair. He welcomed the students in graciously and tottered up to the front of the classroom. Once all the students had taken their seats, their new professor cleared his throat, calling for attention.
"My name," he began, once the talking had diminished, "is Professor Crodwall. This subject and I are both new to the school this year as you most likely, have noticed. Your headmaster has agreed that the sixth and seventh years ought to receive some education in house and home, keeping relationships, and working with one another. I'm sure you've realized the alarming rivalry between these two houses especially."
Harry and Draco glared at each other from opposite sides of the room.
Their professor plunged into a deep discussion of teamwork, partnership, and compatibility and after what seemed like hours, he stated, "and that is why I shall be putting you in pairs this year."
Everyone's heads raised in alarm. No Slytherin would accept working with a Gryffindor, nor would a Gryffindor be friendly with a Slytherin.
Professor Crodwall shuffled about the classroom, evenly distributing boys and girls into pairs. After pairing Ron with Hermione, he stopped at Harry.
"Oh…hm…it's seems like there are less females in this room than I had counted on," he glanced around at the two remaining boys. "I wonder if, perhaps you would not mind partnering up with young Mr. Malfoy here?"
Both boys opened their mouths in horrified protests but Professor Crodwall cut across them.
"Why, thank you for being so agreeable."
Harry scowled at his new teacher and Malfoy broke the quill that was poised between his pale fingers. Ron looked as though he was struggling very hard not to laugh.
"Now," Professor Crodwall began, "your first homework assignment is to get to know your partner; I would like a twelve inch essay on your colleague to be handed in Wednesday." The bell rang shrilly and the class made for their escape.
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It was lunchtime, finally, and Harry was glaring at his pumpkin pasty as though it had been the pastry's fault that he was stuck with the world biggest git for a partner…all. year.
"Harry, I'm sure if you just talked to Professor Crodwall-" Hermione began for the umpteenth time.
"No," Harry interrupted her. "There's no use, Hermione. Why even bother getting my hopes up?" Harry stabbed at his potatoes with unnecessary force, flinging bits and pieces of his lunch at his fellow students.
"Try and make peace," Neville suggested, his mouth crammed with food.
"Neville, stop listening in on our conversations!" Harry snapped.
Hermione looked disgusted and rounded on Harry. "Yes, that seems like a good idea. Go!" She ordered.
"What? Now?" Harry stared at her in disbelief.
"Yes now! Now is better a time than any! Go!" She shoved him rather forcefully off of the bench and shooed him towards the Slytherin table.
Feeling utterly stupid and annoyed, Harry made his way across the hall, heads turning in his direction as he did so. Finally, Harry plopped down opposite Draco who was sitting next to his usual group of Slytherins. He looked up at Harry and hid his look of surprise with anger.
"What?" he spat.
Harry rolled his eyes. "I just figured, since we have to get those essays done, we might as well get together and-"
Draco put his hand up signaling Harry to stop speaking. "As it so happens Saint Potter, I know enough about you from the Daily Prophet, so save your breath. If you need information on me, ask someone else. I'm not going to waste my time giving you interviews."
Harry recognized this as his time to go. "Fine," he narrowed his eyes and shoved Draco's plate at him, spilling pumpkin juice all over the blonde's robes.
"POTTER!" he cried angrily, but Harry was already halfway out the doors.
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"Well…erm…Hermione is very smart. She likes to read a lot of books, you see. And…" Ron glanced nervously down at his sheet.
It was Wednesday, and the class was reading their essays aloud. No one had really expected that.
"She has a cat named Crookshanks. She likes animals and she works really hard in school. She even started a society to help out underprivileged house elves and…she's really smart…yeah." Ron finished lamely. He shuffled rather embarrassed to his seat, not meeting anyone in the eye.
"Why thank you, Mr. Weasley. Alright, how about the next pair? Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, which one of you two would like to go first?"
"I would, sir!" they both shouted at the same time.
"Well, how about you, Mr. Potter?"
Harry and stepped up to the front of the room, and began to read.
"Malfoy here is about the world's biggest git. He gets special treatment from Professor Snape, because he is in Slytherin. His hair is an unnatural blond color and he's very pale. You can even see his veins. His father's hair is longer than most of the girls at school and he has a pimp cane. His dad has the power to control things for Malfoy's liking. Also, he's no good at Quidditch."
"Er…" said Professor Crodwall uncertainly, "Draco…would you like to…?"
"Yes. I. Would." Draco stood up and stormed over to the podium, glaring heatedly at Harry. Looking around as though he were important, he put his paper on the podium with flourish and started to read, practically spitting every word.
"Potter, or as you may all know him as, 'The-Boy-Who-Lived', or perhaps, 'The Chosen One', is a saint. He does no wrong. He is all buddy buddy with the Headmaster, which is how I personally think he has managed to pass most his classes, seeing as he is only makes good marks when he is not being taught by some old friend of sorts. He has a talent for avoiding trouble too. Potter sneaks out after hours to kill giant snakes and play massive chess games and to set free dangerous convicts. While most of us would be expelled from the school for doing such absurd things, Potter earns house points and makes Gryffindor win the House Cup, every year! He has unexplained tantrums and claims to hear voices in his head or in the plumbing and gets out of classes because that bloody gash on his forehead burns his overlarge head. Any able person should realize these sort of symptoms call for immediate medical attention! However, people have decided to ignore all past, annual shenanigans and instead, praise the boy who defeated the Dark Lord!"
Draco had a crazed, livid look on his face when he had finished and he was breathing rather hard. His essay was now ripped in two. He seemed to have noticed this, so he returned to his seat without being asked.
"Well…erm…that was…" The bell rang. "Oh thank goodness, class dismissed."
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