Chapter 1: The Matchmaking Bat
Severus Snape sat at his desk scribbling away on the most recent assignment his students had turned in. A scowl was worn on his face as he came upon numerous papers that obviously were trying to say something smart, but his students were too dim to understand that they only broadcasted how idiotic they were. He huffed setting his quill down to get a breather. Looking across the potions room, his eyes glazed over the empty tables. He imagined his students were still there, snickering and not paying attention. He rolled his eyes. Of course he had always found pleasure in informing those cretins how much of a waste and a failure that they were, and with a quick sigh Severus smirked and went back to grading his stack of papers.
His quill stopped in mid-air as his eyes squinted down at whose paper he'd come across. Harry Potter. If there was one insolent brat that got on Severus' nerves more times than he'd wished it was him, Lily's son. He pondered just giving him the lowest grade and moving on with his evening, but thought differently and decided to see if Potter had finally learned something in his three years at Hogwarts. Apparently not, thought Severus Snape as he finished the paper with another sigh. He put Potter's adequate work in the finished pile, before once again stopping his quill in mid-air to stare down at the paper written by one Draco Malfoy. Severus allowed a small smile to slip thorough his rigorously scowling face. Draco was his top student in class, definitely gifted in the field of Potions, Severus amused himself when a memory of Draco's first year at Hogwarts floated up from his consciousness.
Obviously, like Draco's father, he was proud and beaming when the sorting hat took no time at all to declare Draco's house as Slytherin. Draco's face had lit up with happiness, and a good amount of smugness. During Severus' first potion class that year he was lucky enough to have Draco not only in it, but excel and clearly made an example of how superior he was to every other first year. It was then that Severus had theorized that Draco would become a splendid potion's master, and as a little game to himself, he predicted that Draco would also excel and have an immense pleasure in taking Arithmancy in his third year. From what he understood Draco had not only taken Arithmancy. as he thought, but it and Potions are supposedly his best classes.
A small "hmpf" escaped from Severus' lips as he began going over Draco's paper, and thinking how right he was, but his good mood was quickly dashed and replaced with a frown. Halfway through the paper Severus had to correct a good chunk of Draco's work. By the time he finally finished, Draco's paper looked better than all the others he had corrected, but not by much. He knew this wasn't Draco's usual hard work, normally he'd hardly have to put quill to paper, but thinking back to the first few weeks of school he did have to admit that Draco's work was slowly deteriorating. Severus wondered why. It wasn't his fault, and while the other students were too afraid, or too stupid for that matter, of him to pay attention, Draco should be smart enough to be teaching himself at this point. There had to be something else that troubled Draco, his mistakes were too sloppy.
Severus recounted the first month or so since school started, and it was only then that he realized that Draco was doing more to antagonize Potter and his crew. He had no objections about that, in fact he secretly applauded Draco, but now that his mind wasn't being clouded by numerous students blowing up cauldrons and asking questions he had answered earlier in the lecture, he now saw for the first time just how much of Draco's time was toward antagonizing Potter.
The first two years at Hogwarts was just kids' play. Draco would throw insults at Harry Potter, probably out of spite for rejecting him. Severus mentally filed away a reminder to talk to Draco about that, surely that wasn't the reason he doubled his efforts this year. But Severus did have to admit that Draco's time in and out of class consisted of battling Potter through numerous ways of pranking. It only escalated to this point, Severus theorized, when Weasley not only joined in the same potions class as Harry and Draco, but also decided to help Harry. Weasley would mix and hide Draco's ingredients, Draco would make sure that the red head's cauldron vomited potion all over the classroom, and then Potter would throw an odd hex here and there at Draco forcing him to retaliate even more.
Severus held his head in his hands. How on Earth did he allow this rivalry to go on for over a month? He didn't mind that Potter's work, while not good to begin with, was dropping like Draco's, but he could not stand the fact that his best student, his most tolerable student, was wasting away his potential and grade for a bloody prank! Obviously Severus couldn't ignore this any longer. He had to act, and fast, so that his star student could go back to being in the top of the class. He also wouldn't have to deal with an even more out of hand battle between Potter and Draco later on. As he pondered his dilemma a grin appeared through his pale complexion. A devious grin that held great pleasure in misery it would inflict, especially on Potter, but if all went according to plan then he'd have an easy –er— easier class to deal with.
The next morning Harry woke up from the sun shining through the window above Neville. He scrunched his eyes tight trying to block it from his eyes, but it was no use. The damage had already been done, and within a few moments his green eyes fluttered open to the dreadful early morning. He yawned and stretched as he sat up in bed. Looking around, he could see Neville snoozing soundly underneath Harry's bane, safe from that inferno window waking him up, while the other boys had their drapes covering their beds successfully hiding from the morning sunshine. Harry cursed under his breath. Neville never closed his drapes since it traps the heat and makes him sweat in his sleep, but why the hell didn't he? Harry was always woken up by the sun, and night after night he always forgets to close his drapes thinking he'll do it the next time.
With a deep breath, Harry braced himself as his bare feet touched the cold stone floor of the castle, and he quickly and quietly got changed to head downstairs. The autumn morning looked beautiful as the trees were starting to flush with color, and the womping willow shivered at the first sign of colder weather coming through, though the tree could not speak, but if it could it would say unseemly things about how dreadful the winter is to it.
Sitting down at the Gryffindor table, Harry immediately dug into the food that was sprawled out in front of him. He was lucky that a fresh pile of waffles materialized in front of the seat opposite him. No one was sitting there, and after a quick glance around his scarce table he grabbed the waffles and stuffed his face with fluffy syrupy goodness. The Gryffindor table was pretty bare, with just a few other students, seventh years by the look of them, and Harry didn't have an ounce of gilt as he thought how jealous Ron would be if he knew. Harry wasn't normally an early riser, but ever since he kept forgetting to close his drapes he'd reluctantly started going down for breakfast much earlier than he'd normally, and to his surprise he rather enjoyed it. With not many students up and about there was plenty of food to hog, and he wouldn't have to share because by the time everyone does come down the food would have replenished itself. He still had yet to tell Ron of this golden idea he happened into, but he was content to keep it his secret for a while longer.
The only thing that did ruin Harry's mornings was the odd chance that Draco Malfoy decided to come down to breakfast early as well. Harry wasn't sure what his schedule is like, no matter how hard he thought about when Draco would most likely come down to eat, since he'd prefer to avoid their encounters, he couldn't make heads nor tails of a pattern. Some days Draco and he would arrive practically at the same time, and either both or one of their appetites would be ruined and the prank war would begin again, while other times there would be a week of no sign of Draco before he showed up. Harry growled into his mouthful of waffles as he chanced a glance at the Slytherin table, and there staring back at him was Draco bloody Malfoy with is classic glare. With a little struggle, Harry finally gulped down the last of his Waffles before quickly standing up and rushing out of the Great Hall, and as he left Harry couldn't help but feel as if Draco's eyes were following him like a hippogriff's.
When Harry left the hall, Draco could finally tear his eyes away and focus on his meal, but all he was able to do was just stare at it. He scowled at how pathetic he was acting. It was his third year at Hogwarts, and while the first two solidified him in academic greatness, he somehow hit a bump in the road when starting his third year. He wasn't sure why, but every time he saw Harry Potter his blood would start to boil and his heart would quicken. He quickly found out that pestering Potter had been a great release for him. Every time he'd have an argument, or blow up his red head friend's cauldron, Draco had felt better. Unfortunately it was effecting his grades. The one thing he prized himself on was how well he did in school, and ever since Potter has been distracting him, his anger had only grown.
He closed his eyes and took in a breath. In and out, in and out, he thought to himself eventually calming down. His eggs and bacon stared up at him when he opened his eyes. He wasn't sure, but Draco could have sworn that his breakfast was frowning at him, but before he could give two thoughts about it a hand clapped him on his back distracting him from his predicament.
"Rare to see you down here your highness, to what do we owe the pleasure?"
"Nothing really, I just thought I'd try to stomach some food before I start dry heaving from another vicious attack."
Pansy giggled at Draco as his gloomy demeanor quickly "brightened," and he held his body with regalness once more, talking with his nose held high as if he owned the place. She also giggled because it was Tuesday, and the first class Draco had on Tuesdays was Care for Magical Beasts. She slid in beside him, grabbing some fruit for breakfast, before Crabbe and Goyle joined them shortly later.
"Cheer up mate," said Ron as he noticed Harry's mood declining significantly, "we have a nice few hours before Astronomy, and Potions can't be that bad. We'll just be making some weird smelling potion that Snape wrote down and before you know it we'll be at dinner!"
Harry knew Ron was trying to cheer him up, but it was hard to smile when it felt like he was walking to his own funeral. It always felt like that as the two boys ventured deeper into the castle. The cold didn't help, and since the classroom was on one of the coldest floors in the castle Harry wouldn't at all be surprised if this was what it felt like going to the morgue. He shivered as both he and Ron entered the Potions class and took their usual seats. The rest of the students started filling shortly, all sitting with their friends and discussing all the fun stuff that they'd be able to do after class. Harry spotted Malfoy up at the front of the class in his usual spot. He was looking at Harry and quickly turned his attention back toward Pansy when he noticed that Harry was looking at him. Harry could only shake his head.
"What's that git up to now?" whispered Ron, but before Harry could respond the doors crashed open and Professor Severus Snape strolled into the classroom. Everyone fell silent in an instant and watched with open mouths as their teacher walked with purpose in his step toward his desk, but what really shocked people was the simple fact that Professor Snape, one of the most hated professors at Hogwarts, and the most humorless, was wearing a small smirk. Harry was confused, and apparently so was Ron when he turned to him because the red head looked deathly pale. No one had seen this side of Snape before, and with one quick glance toward Malfoy, who looked equally shocked, Harry could only think this can't be good.
"Everybody stand up," Snape simply ordered. Everyone did as they were told, they all learned that Snape would not tolerate hesitation, and no one wanted to feel his wrath. "As you shall see before you," he said with a flick of his wand and the blackboard behind him was instantly covered in chalk with people's names, "I have taken it upon myself to reorganize all of you." Everyone looked at the board in shock as they noticed that no one from the same house would be sitting together, and before anyone could argue Snape held up a hand to silence them. "It has come to my attention that you all are doing worse than you were before, so I have rearranged you into pairs that will bring about your…potential."
On the blackboard was a chalk drawing of the classroom and all the tables with everyone's name inside with another's in each of the tables. Snape stared at his students with his unblinking black eyes as they slowly processed what was going on, and with obvious reluctance found their new partner and table. Harry's heart dropped and his body felt cold as he stared at his name on the board. Ron had already left him, having already gotten on Snape's bad side too many times, and Harry wasn't sure what to do as his feet felt like they were paralyzed. His new table was only two tables in front of him, and one to the right. A quick glance saw that his partner was already there looking as enthusiastic as he was.
"Were my instructions too complex, Potter?" asked a cold unnerving voice. Harry gulped and slowly turned to his Professor who was standing over him now. All Harry could do was shake his head, he was afraid his voice would crack, or worse fail him, if he dared speak. "Then I suggest you move."
Harry took one step, testing out his body to see if he could maintain balance and not faint. When he knew he could make it to his table he hurried over there as Snape walked back to his desk, ready to address the class. Harry didn't dare look at his partner, he wasn't sure what he'd do, but he knew that being paired up with him would only cause trouble. He wasn't sure what Snape was thinking. The next instructions were drowned out, and before he knew it everyone in the room was gathering ingredients and warming up their cauldrons. He took a breath to calm himself as he knew he would have to look at his partner.
"Potter," said a low rumbling voice next to Harry.
"Malfoy."
Severus looked on with amusement as he saw many of his students "trying" to get along with their new partners, but what really caught his attention were the two boys in the corner trying to work together without communicating or looking at one another. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, a deadly combo and a great risk, sure, but Severus was sure that their quarrels would lesson and hopefully this would put his top student back on top, and maybe actually improve his worst student. If all went right it would be like killing two birds with one stone, and Severus always loved being right.
Draco had ordered Harry to prepare the ingredients as he tended to the cauldron, Draco hardly trusted Harry with such a key factor in potion making, and he was sure that Potter couldn't mess up—
"And what the hell is that?" asked Draco as he checked what Harry was up to.
"What?! I'm doing what you asked," Harry said as he tried to control himself. It was bad enough that he was being ordered around by Malfoy, but now he's going to be criticized too?
"Well you're doing a poor job at it. If you're going to cut that the bloodroot then you have to use diagonal slashes or it won't be as potent as we need it."
Harry growled and mumbled under his breath as Malfoy began explaining how to cut, what order to put in, and how many stirs the potion needed to be perfect, and when Draco wanted it to be perfect he meant perfect. Harry sighed as he realized that class wasn't even half over. It's going to be a long week, he thought.