Harry Potter and the Draught of Possibilities

Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. There I've said it. Plain and Simple.

Harry's in his sixth year, he's passed all his subjects, congratulated and come to terms with Ron being the quidditch captain, dealing with Sirus's death, figuring out what life, the universe and destiny mean – and even managed to talk Snape into a second chance for potions class. And then this happened.

-

Stepping onto the train.

Inside the safety of the barrier, Hogwarts students, bustled to and through, laughing and meeting up with old friends. Harry, Hermoine and Ron were aiming for one of the last carriages to reserve it for themselves and friends although Hermoine, Ron and Ginny (if she chose to sit with them) would have to walk to the front and back, since they had to attend the prefects meeting.

Harry Potter nodded to Hermoine's fussing, laughed at Ron's less than polite but strangely accurate observation about the similarities Goyle and Crabbe held with toads and openenly waved to Neville and Luna, beckoning them to join him as he waited for Ron and Hermoine to get back.

On the outside he seemed happy, normal. On the inside he was sighing. Wishing for peace and quiet. He was happy for Ron, really he was, but it didn't really seem fair that Ron got to be the quidditch captain as well as Prefect. Harry could understand the reasoning of it – it was only two weeks ago that the lifetime banning from quidditch had been lifted – a week before they, the teachers, confirmed of whom the quidditch captain position had been bestowed upon. Ron was the more gifted, when it came to tactics, chess match after chess match had proven that point. Hermoine had pointed out how hard it was for Gryffindor to win a match when Harry was missing. Harry was a key player, if Gryffindor lost both its captain and its seeker, then it wouldn't stand a chance.

Harry knew all of this. Really. He did. It still didn't seem fair that, he who had been on the team for five years - minus unfair circumstances involving the special kind of evil the universe seemed to hold in store for him – and Ron who had only be on for one... Harry who had shone from before he began, Harry who had played perfectly every match that didn't involve dementors... Ron who had mucked up so badly, each and every match until the last one...

It just didn't seem fair. Harry couldn't fight that thought, despite the fact that he was actually HAPPY for Ron, despite the fact that he was eternally exhausted – both from the events of last year – and the dratted weekly essays Snape demanded he write, if he wanted Snape to so much as think about giving Potter a chance to take potions at the NEWT level.

Not to mention Voldemort was out and about. Growing more powerful and active.

Just... It didn't seem fair!

First Potions lesson

Harry Potter gritted his teeth as he carefully ignored the mocking laughter of Malfoy and his gang behind him. While having his back to a group of Slytherin's behind his back, was not something he found ideal, it was better than having to face Snape – anything that avoided drawing Snape's attention to himself – was a good thing. He was going to get through this class AND he was going to get top marks. If only so those stupid essays that Snape had delighted upon setting him, did not go to waste. Bastard.

Why Harry was pushing himself to study potions, was beyond him. He probably didn't even have a future in the wizarding world – what with a mad derranged super-villain baying for his death...

But potions came in useful for so many jobs. The only thing Harry could think of as a job that he wanted was an Auror. That meant getting potions down.

Hermoine smiled nervously at Harry. While technically she should have been in extension potions, she had decided that if she did normal potions she could combine other classes hense maximising her potential. Besides, Harry needed her help if he was to cope in this class. It wasn't that he was exceedingly bad at potions – though he rushed through and didn't think matters through at times – it was just that he lost his temper far to easily. It was far to scary when he lost it too.

This potion, "Draught of Possibilities" they were working on was tricky. Hermoine suspected it was a last ditch attempt to scare everyone out of his class, so Professor Snape could spend the rest of the year in peace. Carefully examining her neatly written out instructions, she frowned thoughtfully at her vial. Yes it all did seem correct. Harry had been doing fine on the otherside of the table as well. Considering Hermoine was to be the "lucky one" to test Harry's potion, she had indeed been carefully observing and ensuring her own safety. Not that she was paranoid or anything.

She felt worried about Harry though. He had seemed awfully dull this year – he smiled, but it never quite reached his eyes. Hermoine wondered how hurt he had been on Ron becoming quidditch captain. She didn't see the point of quidditch herself, but to Harry – flying was everything.

"Are you and your partners ready to take each others potions?" Snape barked out to the class. His eyes peered down his long nose, eyeing off all the students in there carefully.

Hermoine smirked at Draco's worried look. The evil, coniving, git had somehow conned a way into doing both potions and extension potions. At least there was the mild retalitation now of watching him drink Goyle's potion.

Glug Glug

Hermoine lifted the cup to her lips and drank the potion down calmly.

The world swirled.

Hufflepuff

Hermoine's face blanched and she opened her eyes.

The green eyed, black haired boy before her eeped and jumped back.

Thats wasn't Harry.

Harry would never eep. Harry would never look at her with eyes that wide, or afraid.

Harry also didn't wear hufflepuff colours.

Neville, who had been working at the table in front of them turned around. His face was calm, warm, friendly though marked with a little concern. "Are you okay Harry?" He asked.

It was Neville, but not the Neville she knew. The Neville she knew, wasn't in this class – he had gratefully escaped potions at the first oppurtunity. This Neville was quiet, but carried a greater sense of confidence around him. He still wore the Gryffindor colours, but... There was a marked difference. He carried himself with pride, his movement in turning around was fluid, not nervous and jaggered, the movements she traditionally associated with Neville.

"I'm fine Neville" Harry... This Harry... replied, seeming to find comfort in Neville's interest.

He, Harry, turned his attention back to Hermoine. "Are you okay?" His brown eyes welled with concern. "Your face went really pale." In an anxious voice Harry explained.

"Oh. I'm fine" Hermoine answered. 'But your not.' She privately thought. She looked around the room. There were familiar gryffindors about, and the hufflepuff's of her year were in this class as well. No where were the Slytherin's.

"I guess its my turn to take your potion." Hufflepuff Harry tried to smile – really he did. But it was obvious he wasn't happy on the matter.

"I guess so" Hermoine answered, trying not to look dazed as she tried to gain her co-ordinates.

Professor Snape had his back turned to them, beratting the team of hufflepuff's, Ernie and Hannah. Apparently they had gotten something wrong.

Hufflepuff Harry pulled the beaker up to his lips and gulped the potion down.

He placed the beaker on the table and waited for the potion to take its effects.

He vanished.