A bit of a note before we begin.

I first posted about this fic in September 2017 on my blog ( queerastronauts on tumblr). I have not been working on it that much, to be honest, mostly a paragraph here or there, but I wrote a chapter and a half over the last 24 hours more or less and I figure the only way I'll finish this is if I have motivation (such as, for example, public expectation). Besides, Of Three Times is all out now, and I don't have that making me feel guilty for working on another project. I am, however, posting this during my first week of university, so who the fuck knows what'll happen.

Anything I considered canon in OTT is considered canon here; I do not consider everything JKR releases post-book to be canonical but I do consult non-books material for continuity, dates, names, etc. That does not mean that OTT is at all relevant here, but I did work on it for four and a half years, so maybe give it a read.

Title is from the song When, by dodie.

Prologue

Seven years after the Second Wizarding War, six years after becoming an Auror, three years after amicably ending his relationship with Ginny Weasley in a small Muggle café in London, Harry Potter went into Kingsley Shacklebolt's office on a hot, dry July day and quit.

The news spread throughout the ministry like wildfire, and by next morning it was in the papers: Harry Potter Accepts Teaching Job at Hogwarts.

The news, it seemed, came as a surprise to everybody in the entire Wizarding world. Meanwhile, none of his close friends could be reached for comment – no Weasleys, Granger-Weasleys, Longbottoms, or Lovegoods were seen in public, in fact, for the next three weeks. Luna Lovegood seemed to have left the country; Ginny Weasley's Quidditch team, Holyhead Harpies, had a scheduled break from the season; Neville had started teaching at Hogwarts the previous year, and was currently enjoying a vacation out of the public eye with his fiancé, Hannah Abbott; and both Ron and Hermione had taken several weeks off from their Ministry jobs to go to Greece. It seemed as if every member of Dumbledore's Army, every person in Harry Potter's confidence, had vanished at once.

And then, once the Daily Prophet and the wizarding world had largely calmed down about the news, they all came back, and the school year was two weeks away. Then those two weeks past, and Harry Potter had his second first day at Hogwarts.

"Home at last," he told Ginny over drinks one night.

And, not unexpectedly, he turned out to be a really good teacher. He enjoyed teaching. And the students liked his classes, which were clearly inspired by those of one Remus J. Lupin. He was charismatic, and he had stories. Harry had never, not once, told a single detail of his life's story to any reporter, but he gladly shared with his students. And not just big things, either, like the DA, or defeating the Basilisk; no, he told them of little things, too, which they shared among themselves like little pieces of gold.

"I accepted my first duel," he told a group of first year Hufflepuffs once, "when I was your age."

And to a group of third years: "I learned how to use a Patronus when I was in the third year, instead of going out to Hogsmeade."

He even managed to get half-through telling the story of breaking into Umbridge's office to a fifth year Slytherin before he realized that perhaps that it wasn't very educational.

And true, at first there were a couple of stumbles. He got halfway through a lecture and realized he'd forgotten where he was going, or had been unable to properly discipline a classroom. But if there was one thing Harry Potter was good at, it was in building trust. And by the end of that first year, nobody could imagine Hogwarts without him.

Eight years after the Second Wizarding War, seven years after being acquitted of all charges, four years after moving out of his parents' mansion in Wiltshire, Draco Malfoy decided enough was enough and visited an owlery.

His letter to one Minerva McGonagall was answered promptly, and over the next month they corresponded regularly. At the end of that long May she confirmed that Slughorn was, in fact, retiring that year, and that the position was his, should he want it.

In July, a column was written about him. It was printed on page 7 of the Daily Prophet, consisted mostly of details of his trial, and mentioned his new position once in the very last paragraph.

No fanfare. Nobody reached to any of Draco's friends for comment. True, many of them were either dead or imprisoned, but Draco Malfoy knew that the real reason was that they were all ex-Death Eaters, and they had lost, and so no one wanted their opinion anyway.

He didn't mind that nobody cared about him being appointed new Potions Master at 26. All he wanted was to get out of the apartment he'd leased four years ago and had barely left since.

September 1st, 2006

Harry needed to stop looking at him. Right now.

It wasn't as if he hadn't known he'd be there. He'd received a note from McGonagall – um, Minerva – the moment she thought of hiring him, to make sure it wouldn't be a problem. She, of course, meant to make sure he wouldn't hex Malfoy on sight. He assured her it would be fine, and at the time he meant it, but still, he couldn't help but be suspicious. More habit than any real, logical reasoning, he reminded himself.

He hadn't seen that white-blond hair, that pointy chin, nor those clear eyes since he testified at the trial.

Hermione and him both testified for the defense, something that Harry would've never pictured himself doing until he did.

Damn it, he was staring again.

He also hadn't regretted testifying in Malfoy's defense until now, when he was sitting at the same table as him and forced to relive every single time he and Malfoy interacted. Every painful and embarrassing and shameful moment of their schoolyard rivalry.

Perhaps it was all for the best. That rivalry won The War, in a way.

But still, the blood in the bathroom flashed before his eyes.

Perhaps he should stay away from Malfoy.

Getting through dinner was a nightmare.

He hadn't been around this many people in years, and it made him nervous. He was startled when Professor McGonagall introduced him. He was sat at the end of the table, thank God, but he was unfamiliar with the middle-aged Transfiguration teacher sitting by him, and she would not stop asking questions.

And he could feel Potter's eyes burning a hole into the side of his head, which made it very difficult to eat.

He knew what he was doing when he applied to the position. He knew he could teach this class. He also knew that Potter would be there, every day, sitting at the same table as him. It was unavoidable, and he would simply have to confront his own anxiety head on.

He wanted to get through this, so he would.

Perhaps, with time, it'll get easier. For now, all he had was resilience and power of will, and, well. He was a Slytherin. He knew how to persevere.

September 4th, 2006

"Hello! Yes, you in the back, Pince, I see you. Just because you're related to our late Librarian doesn't mean you don't have to learn like the rest of the class, so sit down.

"Thank you. Since this is the first lesson of the year, I'd like to talk a little about what to expect from this year.

"You are third year students, which means we're going to focus on magical creatures. Not Care of Magical Creatures, Professor Hagrid knows much more about that than I do. Instead, we're going to discover how to escape and fight hostile magical creatures, hopefully without damaging them unnecessarily. I'm going to start by discussing the Blast-Ended Skrewt, a truly horrific creature I was introduced to around – "

"Welcome to Potions class.

"The first time I was introduced to this class, I was being taught by the late Severus Snape. He promised us that if we only listened, we could learn 'how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death' – and I promise you, that's an exact quote. Professor Snape was a truly unique man.

"I, however, will not teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, prevent death. At least not at this moment, and for most of you, not ever. At this point, most of you can barely lift a wand, let alone tell the difference between a kidney stone or a proper bezoar. And that is what I'll be teaching you today. We will go through the many different ingredients in your potions kit, studying the different magical properties they possess – "

"We will not be dealing with actual Blast-Ended Skrewts, thank Merlin, because it is highly illegal to even own one, let alone breed them. At least, I hope so. However, we will start with a very special surprise, something I faced my first lesson of Defense in third year, and I ask that you keep it a secret from the younger kids. This worked relatively well with the current fourth years, and I'm hoping you can keep this new tradition alive. Now, if you'll form a line in front of the cupboard you see to your left, I'll clear the chairs – "

"Unicorn hair has a variety of uses, mostly relating to healing, but mostly in extremely difficult potions which will not be studied in this classroom until N.E.W.T. levels. Aconite – also known as wolfsbane and monkshood – is poisonous, but its root is fairly useful in a variety of potions, including the Awakening Potion. Snake fangs – "

"Congratulations, Pince, I knew you could actually achieve something if you put your mind to it. Excellent Riddikulus. Well, thank you for your time, and I'll see you all on Thursday, when you'll be receiving your first homework assignment, which I'm sure you all can't wait to receive. Dismissed!"

"For next class, I'd like a roll of parchment discussing any of the ingredients I mentioned. Choose one, then write about its usage throughout Wizarding history. Feel free to spend two or three lines summarizing rather than adding more information. Dismissed."

September 8th, 2006

One week had passed, and both of them had managed not to kill each other yet. In Harry's opinion, that was the best it was going to get. He was more than fine with it. Well, he was slightly more than fine with it. More accurately, it was a passable experience.

The problem was that they saw each other all the time. It was inescapable.

True, they now had their own rooms and offices into which they could retreat should they please, but their circle of peers was now rather smaller, and they had to – quote, unquote – share their potential friends. There was no Slytherin or Gryffindor common room, only the staff room, which hadn't changed a smidge since the first time he had visited it in 1993, as far as Harry could tell. There was only one table shared by all teachers. So much sharing, Harry thought bitterly, they might as well be Hufflepuffs, only to immediately think of Professor Sprout and feel exceedingly guilty. He sometimes found it hard to get over old biases, even ones he never truly believed.

And so it went.

A/N: I decided I was going to write this fic after seeing a dramione fic with a similar concept (which I never actually read), which I thought this would work much better as a drarry fic. For one, I could never see Hermione as a teacher. There's both a reason that she had Harry teach the DA, and a reason that AO3 has an entire tag dedicated to "Teacher Harry Potter". In addition, I thought putting Draco and Harry as adults in Hogwarts would be the best place for them to reexamine their relationship. I'm a big fan of parallels. I also wanted to try my hand at writing another longfic - and not taking four and a half years to finish it this time. I've managed to complete most of my multi-chaptered works over the years, but it took 107k words for James and Lily to kiss in OTT, and I want to see a little bit more of the relationship in this slow burn. So here's what you can expect from this one: retrospection; atonement; slow burn; relationship development; and, if the past is at all an indicator of my writing style, lots of time jumps and dialogue.

Wish me luck, and meanwhile, sit back and enjoy the ride,

JustGail