Theodore had been inevitably late for his first class, which was what he'd been trying to avoid. Professor McGonagall had looked towards him with concern lacing her dark brown eyes, before ushering him into the classroom.

"Just a warning, Mr. Nott. Next time this happens I will have no choice but to give you a detention."

He just smiled one of those fake smiles he liked to use on days like these. Professor McGonagall, still as stern and righteous as always, had reciprocated the smile with a lot more enthusiasm.

After Transfiguration, he hurried to his next class, which was undoubtedly Potions with both Malfoy and the Gryffindors. Today could not get any worse.

'Well, this ought to be entertaining," he thought as he entered the dark dampness of the dungeons.

The moisture that constantly resided in the dungeons clung to his exposed skin, causing him to feel weary and nauseous.

The concrete blocks that made up the Hogwarts dungeons had one or two candle lights to mark the way to the only classroom that inhabited the murky underground - the once Professor Snape's, now Professor Slughorn's, classroom. Nobody knew why Professor Dumbledore had finally given into the middle-aged dark haired man's wishes to become Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, but he had, which had brought forth the problem of who would fill the vacant potions professor position. That's where Professor Slughorn had come in. He had changed much of the rules that Snape had put in place, opting for more leisure guidelines, which was the reason why more sixth years had been accepted to resume their potion studies than what was originally expected.

Theodore came to stand beside the other few students who had passed the O.W.L potion exams the previous year. Even with Slughorn's new standards, only a few had managed - Malfoy, Zabini, Brown and apparently even Potter and some of his friends. They all leaned against the concrete wall beside the locked classroom door. Theodore joined them, but remained a little away from the overall group, choosing to hang farther away from the last person in line than he would have if he hadn't been so socially awkward.

"Well, look who it is!?" Ron Weasley exclaimed loudly, gaining the attention of everyone in the hallway. He was speaking to Malfoy, attempting to provoke the more than unhealthy looking Slytherin to start a quarrel or to make one of his infamous remarks about Granger's blood status. He was only asking for trouble; trouble that Malfoy seemed unwilling to give.

Theodore watched from his spot on the wall as Weasley, trying unsuccessfully to look tough and demeaning, conjured a sarcastic glare and sent it in Malfoy's direction. The scornful, hateful act failed to fit Weasley's happy-go-lucky personality. It all seemed so phony, yet it received the attention he was obviously hoping for.

Longbottom was putting on a brave face, as Malfoy's cronies stepped up next to Malfoy with their fists in the air and snarls on their faces. Granger was trying to sweet talk the freckled redhead to stop the childish act, while Potter had taken it a step further by grabbing Weasley's wrist to hold him back. Apparently, even Potter wasn't up for a fight this morning.

Taking a step in Weasley's direction, Malfoy tried to regain the usual composure he used for these types of confrontations; however, his lips failed to hold his smirk. The tall blonde gave an air of intimidation - he looked scary and demon-like in the low light - , but he was unable to create the full allusion. He could not keep the tough performance up any longer. The rough features that were once used to terrorize students and to cause pain crumbled into that of a broken facade.

Eventually, Malfoy, whose eyes were darting back and forth between his friends and the Golden Trio, regained control of his features, managed to pull together a barely there smirk, and replied with, "I wouldn't be saying much of anything, Weasel. Well, since your family's poor and all, I mean."

It was a poorly created insult that lacked real buoyancy and animosity, yet it still affected Weasley in the way it would have if it had meant much of anything.

The redhead's face turned as red as his hair- blotchy and hot. His face resembled that of badly misshapen monster. He looked as if he might launch at Malfoy, but Professor Slughorn had finally decided to join them then. Wearing frayed robes, the big guy hobbled up to the class, appearing to have much difficulty in doing so. His eyes were two glassy pebbles reflecting the light of the overhead candle.

"I hope there hasn't been any trouble. I'm sorry I stayed gone so long. I had business with Professor Dumbledore I had to attend to," he explained as he unlocked the door with a wave of his wand. "Come on. Go in."

His large face was a blotchy red and he seemed a little out of breath as he directed the class into the classroom.

The class, now mostly calm, stumbled into the potions classroom, and took their usual seats. Theodore found an empty desk behind the one where Malfoy and Zabini occupied. He sat alone, which was not anything out of the norm, and stared at Malfoy's back. His back was so stiff, like he wished to be as tall as he could all the time. He never looked comfortable and relaxed anymore. Not that he ever really did, but it was more recognizable now more than ever.

Slughorn stood, or in reality slumped, at the front of the room. He smiled, dimples protruding outward before he began speaking.

"Good morning, students. It's nice to see you again. Today we'll be doing a hands-on task. Since we've been talking about many different complicated potions recently, I thought maybe we could attempt one of those. Mind you, it would only be counted as a participation grade, so don't get all worked up if it doesn't come out as it should."

Slughorn stopped speaking a moment, closed his eyes and looked as if he were deep in thought. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes and continued the lesson by asking a question.

"What are the names and descriptions of some of the potions we've been discussing?"

From the far side of the room, naturally sitting between Potter and Weasley, Hermione Granger raised her hand. Theodore noticed a few students rolling their eyes at that move. Slughorn smiled again and called on her to answer the question.

She did, with more elaboration than was necessary.

Theodore, of course, knew all the potions and their descriptions. He even had them written down, along with intricate notes as to correctly brew them. He probably knew them in much more detail than even Granger. He just never raised his hand to answer any question. Never. He didn't see the point in making a fool of himself.

"Good job, Granger," Slughorn praised her, causing the curly haired witch to blush and smile shyly. "Ten points to Gryffindor!"

The Gryffindor side of the classroom erupted into distinct cheers and shouts of celebration as the students expressed their feeling of joy at earning ten house points.

After Slughorn had written the three potions on the board at the front of the room with a broken and dusty piece of chalk, he turned back around to face his students.

"I would like for each of you to brew one of the potions I have listed here. However, because the assignment is fairly easy and will only count as a participation grade, I will divide you into groups consisting of two. Nevertheless, the group with the best made potion will receive an undisclosed prize."

Ignoring the grunts and sighs of disapproval, he wobbled over to the first few desks in the front row and began naming off groups. Granger got paired with Longbottom, which was a great thing for the clumsy teenager, because then Granger would be able to help where he as a partner failed drastically. The curly witch turned her head and smiled encouragingly at him.

Theodore looked at the board, choosing which potion he would prefer to make, even as Slughorn continued putting students into groups- Lavender Brown had been paired with Weasley, while Dean Thomas was paired with Potter. After a few minutes, he decided on the Temporalis potion, thinking that one had the most potential. He flipped open his book to the right page and looked down at the ingredients he would need to make this particular potion:

three toad warts

the squeezed eyeball juice of an unicorn

the fin tail feather of an African peacock

perfectly purified water

beetle juice - 3/4 a cup

and the last, but certainly not the least, the most important ingredient - the fingernail of a Norwegian fairy, which gave the potion its healing powers.

Slughorn had finished grouping one side of the room and was beginning to work on the other side - the side most of the Slytherins usually sat on. Theodore wondered who out of the remaining students he'd be forced to work with the next hour and a half. He inwardly begged and pleaded with Professor Slughorn he wouldn't get paired with someone he despises. He kept envisioning the disaster that would occur.

Pansy Parkinson got paired with Zabini, who took one look at his partner and shuddered. Malfoy gave him a 'just do it' sort of expression, and Zabini reluctantly left to join the pug-faced princess. This left Malfoy sitting at his own desk alone. He looked a sad sight; worn out and tired.

The Slytherin side was mostly in pairs, with only a few partnerless students, including himself and Malfoy, left. Slughorn stood in the middle of the aisle that divided the room into two and surveyed the remaining students. His friendly gaze washed over Theodore's face, making him shudder involuntarily for some unknown reason. Then the voluptuous wizard in the old, tattered green robes spoke, enunciating each word that escaped his mouth.

"Theodore Nott you will be paired up with," he stopped, looking his two victims over to make sure it would be a good decision after all, and then continued, "Draco Malfoy." He pointed at the two boys to make a more distinct impact.

Theodore looked towards Malfoy, who sat so primly on the light brown stool in front of him. At the same time, Malfoy looked at him, confusion lacing his features as he attempted to place the name with his face. Brown met cold grey for a few minutes before he pulled his gaze away, blush evidently gracing his cheeks in a way that had never occurred to him before.

Then Malfoy was standing and moving his things to the back table beside him, giving him a light smile that resembled more a pained expression than that of a boy playfully attempting to lighten the mood.

"What potion were you thinking of making, Theo?" Malfoy spoke, easily dropping into the character of a friend or acquaintance.

When he had said his name, Theodore's eyes had automatically trained onto the boy's lips. Malfoy's lips pronounced the two syllables of his nickname carefully, almost as if he tasted them to see if he pronounced them correctly. It was hard for him to imagine that same mouth with all its perfect creases crying, shouting, and asking Moaning Myrtle 'Why me?' not but yesterday, but he couldn't deny the voice that fell along those lips and that mouth. It was the exact same voice that had cried and screamed in that bathroom.

"Temporalis," he answered, smiling the same thin line he had to Professor McGonagall earlier.

"Sounds good to me. Relieving temporary pain is always a plus."

He spoke those words like he knew what pain felt like.

"Well, we need these ingredients for the potion," he said as he copied the words onto a separate piece of parchment and handed it to Malfoy, who brushed his hand in the process of grabbing it. Malfoy's hand felt soft, almost like a girl's. "You go get them from the cupboard, and I'll start prepping the cauldron."

Malfoy gave him a look of surprise; grey eyes ablaze underneath the dark mask-like film that covered them. He stood there a moment staring at Theodore, but then seemed to regain a conscious thought process and walked over to the cupboard to retrieve the items they would need. Theodore watched the receding back that was still tense and as straight as a board.

After a few seconds, however, he stopped staring to reach underneath the table and grab one of the three pewter cauldrons that were always there for when students would need them. He filled the cauldron with water using a simple spell, set the metal onto the burner, and turned the knob to the correct temperature. Then he sat back on his own stool with his elbows resting on the cold hard surface of the table, waiting for Malfoy to get back with the ingredients. When he finally did, arms laden with packages and bottles, Theodore slipped off his stool to help Malfoy situate the ingredients onto the table beside the barely steaming cauldron.

"Whoa," Malfoy said, sliding a hand across his forehead as he sat down on the vacant stool beside Theodore's. "Now what do we do?" He asked, turning questionable eyes on Theodore.

"Well, the book says to -" he ran a finger across the words as he recited them from the page.

"'Poor in the water and wait until it starts to boil at a constant temperature of 100 degrees,'" he stopped and looked at Malfoy before reading again. "Then the book wants us to add the warts, and then to-"

"'Squeeze the juice out of the beetles,'" Malfoy read over his shoulder, which automatically caused him to shudder and jump at the unexpected voice from behind his left ear.

"Yeah. That," he said when he recovered from the shock. "So you can drain the beetles, while I add the warts."

He just now realized he had been keeping a constant conversation with Malfoy, and he hadn't felt nervous or awkward once, which was a weird occurrence; still, potion brewing was one of only good attributes, so maybe that was his reason for his sudden friendliness.

"Okay then."

Malfoy grabbed a knife from the holder in the middle of the table, opening the glass jar filled to the brim with little beetles with ease. He selected one of the bigger creatures to drain and begin to work.

As he reached across the table to grab the box of toad warts, Theodore watched him from the corner of his eyes. When he withdrew his hand, his forearm accidentally brushed the front of Malfoy's robes. A shiver ran up the length of his arm and caused him to shudder again; he'd been doing that a lot lately. Malfoy eyed him carefully with those grey eyes of his, but then went back to cutting the beetles as if nothing had happened at all.

When the water in the cauldron began boiling, he opened the package of toad warts and added them to the concoction; the force of gravity taking affect when they automatically dropped to the bottom of the cauldron.

"I'm done with these, Theo" Malfoy spoke up, breaking him out of his reverie.

He took a good look at the juice mess Malfoy had managed to create.

'Give him a knife and a few juicy beetles and Malfoy could really cause some trouble," he couldn't help but think.

Little dribbles of beetle juice lay in various rainbow puddles on the table, while the insect bodies that were once intact and whole were now in tiny pieces lingering in their juices.

"No, you're not," Theodore stated plainly; a smile forming at the corners of his lips.

"What did I do wrong?" Malfoy asked; hurt evident in his expression.

"Well, you're cutting the beetles ruthlessly with your knife for one. You're basically losing all the good stuff to the table and the floor and possibly yourself." He glanced at the few splotches of juice that were running down the front of Malfoy's robes.

"Aren't you supposed to do that though?" he questioned with raised brows as he eyed his robes as well.

"No exactly," Theodore replied, taking the knife that was drenched in beetle juice from Malfoy's hand. "See. I'll show you."

He took a single beetle from the glass jar Malfoy had opened earlier, and set it on the table in front of him.

"Instead of cutting the insect," he spoke to Malfoy as he watched his every movement," try slicing down the body," he demonstrated.

As he sliced through the insect's body from the head to the end, a few drops ran down his fingers, but as soon as the initial slice ensued, nothing but those few droplets came out. Theodore set down the knife and pulled the top half of the insect away, resulting in two separate pieces, which he then squeezed into the cauldron.

"See there?" he said. "It's kind of gross and a little creepy, but it works." He shrugged his shoulders and handed the knife back to Malfoy.

Malfoy looked at the mess he had made compared to Theodore's nonexistent one.

"How did you do that?" he asked; curious.

"Magic."

They both laughed as his shitty attempt at cracking a joke.

"You try it," he said, gesturing to the knife in Malfoy's hand.

Malfoy grabbed another beetle from the jar and held the knife at its center point between the insect's head. His grey eyes stared at the bug between his thumb and forefinger, as he took the knife in his other hand and applied pressure, causing it to enter the beetle effortlessly and to slice the beetle in half.

"Good," Theodore said as Malfoy squeezed the juices into the cauldron, feeding Malfoy's ego; the ego that had seemed to disappear from his person altogether. "Now finish the rest of them, so we can brew this fucking potion."

Malfoy smiled at that - one of those half smiles he loved to use so much.

"Whatever," he said, picking up the knife again.

Since they couldn't add anymore to the cauldron until the right amount of beetle juice was added, Theodore just sat on his stool and watched Malfoy - something he'd been doing ever since the bathroom incident.

The first feature that stood out was his grey eyes - the cold unfeeling eyes that could see into a soul if allowed. They were flecked with darker shades of the same color, which only made them stand out even more. They were beautiful; although, the dark circles under those same eyes were hard to miss as well. They encircled the bottom of Malfoy's eye sockets; their coloring dark greys and deep purples, almost as if Malfoy hadn't slept properly in months. From the looks of it, Malfoy wasn't getting enough food in his belly either.

The greys leveled to that of the pale peachy color of Malfoy's firm tough cheekbones, which led to a chin that screamed 'touch me.' Malfoy was, he could say, a nice looking guy, except for the obvious signs of stress.

Theodore knew what pain felt like; emotional pain that is. Emotional pain felt worse than any physical thing imaginable. Physical pain could be healed with a wave of a wand and a few months' time, but emotional pain could not just simply be covered up in a bandage like a wound could. It affected the heart, mind, and soul. It influenced people to feel loneliness and hopelessness. Emotional pain lingered.

Draco Malfoy harbored emotional pain. It could be seen in those grey eyes of his.

"Theo," Malfoy said as he added in the last of the beetle juice that was needed, which along with the toad warts caused the potion to turn the deep purple the book had said it would. "I'm done."

'He hadn't even realized he was being stared at,' Theodore thought as he leaned towards the potions book to look at the next step, which was to add the eyeball juice of the unicorn.

As soon as Malfoy picked up the eyeball and began to squeeze, Slughorn cleared his throat to draw everybody's attention to the center of the room where he was standing.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your guys' hard work, but the bell for lunch is about to ring in ten minutes. We'll work on the potions next week. If we put them in the freezer, they shouldn't spoil. So, please let's get everything cleaned."

"Well, that's just great," Malfoy sighed; the silver eyeball still clenched in his fist.

"Just pack all the ingredients up and put them back in the cupboard," Theodore said, turning the stove off. "I'll take care of this."

He slipped on some hand mittens that were hanging on a nail from the table and picked up the steaming cauldron by its handles, walking over to the freezer to sit it inside. It made a hissing sound, steaming from the hot metal making contact with the cold. Then, he went and got a wet rag to wipe down the table. When everything was clean and all the packages were put up, he sat back down on his stool to wait out the bell. He watched Malfoy, who had gone back to his friends, while he waited.

The bell finally rang throughout the school, signaling the start of their hour lunch. Students exited the classroom in twos and threes, smiles on their faces as they picked up on some old conversation with their friends.

Theodore draped his bag across his chest, the strap digging into his shoulder. He ignored the constricting pain as he put the two potion books into the bag with his other possessions. Most of the room was already empty by the time he had lifted his head from his task. Malfoy and his group of friends were still there, but they were already walking out the door, leaving him behind to walk to lunch alone. The better part of an hour already behind them, especially Malfoy, who just continued life as if he'd never spoken to him at all. Theodore sighed and followed them out of the classroom. Of course, people couldn't change, especially when it concerned him. His father hadn't, and Malfoy certainly wouldn't.