Breakfast the next morning was a bit more complicated than Harry was used to. In past years, Professor McGonagall had handed out their schedules and sent them on their merry way, but as they were now N.E.W.T. students, she had to meet with her charges individually to ensure they met the minimum requirements for their desired courses before they could go to class.

"I thought we discussed continuing with Potions in your career meeting, Potter," his Head of House remarked as she studied his course selections.

"I didn't get the required mark, Professor," Harry replied, flipping to the page that contained his O.W.L. scores. "I got an E in Potions, not an O."

"And while an O was required for admission to Professor Snape's N.E.W.T. class, Professor Slughorn is more than happy to accept students who achieved an E or higher, so long as they feel they are prepared to do the work," Professor McGonagall explained. "I suspect you won't be the only student in the class in such a situation, if you'd still like to continue?"

"I would, thanks," Harry said. "These four, then, plus Potions."

"Very well." Professor McGonagall tapped a blank schedule, which filled itself with Harry's chosen courses. "Professor Slughorn should be able to provide you with a textbook and ingredients to use until you can write home for your own. You've earned each of these high marks, Mr. Potter – you should be proud."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said sincerely, though inwardly he was both shocked and pleased. Professor McGonagall rarely gave mere compliments, never mind such high praise. The Scottish witch nodded once before turning to speak with Neville, who sat to Harry's left. Hermione had already left for a first period Ancient Runes class, and Harry had a free period first thing that morning, so he decided to heed Professor McGonagall's advice and get in touch with Sirius. Knowing the library would probably be empty since no one had any homework yet, he headed there and situated himself at Hermione's usual table. He soon had his charmed parchment and quill ready, and he thought for a moment before scribbling his message:

Do you know anyone called Professor Slughorn?

Sure, he was Potions master when I was at Hogwarts, came the reply. Why do you ask?

Dumbledore's brought him back to teach again, and Snape's teaching Defense, Harry wrote back. What can you tell me about him?

Snape's teaching Defense?

Yes, I just said that. But never mind that – Slughorn?

Right, sorry. You know Snape and I don't exactly get along.

Harry snorted. That was the biggest understatement he'd heard in a long time.

Slughorn. He's not a bad teacher – certainly knows his stuff – but you'll have to watch out for him. He'll definitely take an interest in you, I'm sure.

Why?

Slughorn's a bit of a…social climber, shall we say? He likes to collect trophies – important people. Great if you need connections – I hear he corresponds regularly with Gwenog Jones, for instance – but it can get annoying right quick.

Harry frowned, then wrote, How exactly does he 'collect' these people?

Oh, mostly through parties and the like – he likes to talk about how he got certain people the connections they needed to jumpstart their careers, that sort of thing. Just be warned, he'll recognize your name since he taught all of us, and your mum was quite talented with Potions – I don't know if he knows what happened or not, but I seem to remember he was never the most tactful person.

Harry groaned and ran a hand through his hair. Great – now he could expect a reminder of his recently deceased mum later that very afternoon. At least he was prepared.

Sounds like loads of fun. I've got to go soon, break's almost over, but can you owl me a copy of Advanced Potion-Making and a stock of ingredients ASAP? You know I wasn't expecting to continue with Potions, so I don't have what I need. I think I have my scales here, but you might want to check around just in case I left those behind too.

Not a problem – I'll see if I can get over to Diagon Alley today.

Thanks – say hi to everyone for me.

Harry carefully put away his charmed parchment and checked the clock – almost morning break. They had Defense after that, and then double Potions after lunch. What he really wanted was to discuss the rings with Dumbledore, as they hadn't had a chance to do so over the summer, but Dumbledore had been busy with Order work and hadn't been in touch. Harry spent the remainder of first period scanning the Daily Prophet – other than the transcript of a press conference from Rufus Scrimgeour, the new Minister of Magic after Cornelius Fudge had been sacked due to the whole Umbridge fiasco, the paper didn't contain anything of interest, and he soon tossed it aside. The bell rang shortly thereafter, signaling the start of morning break, and Harry headed down to the courtyard to meet up with his friends.

"Well, this year should be interesting," Draco commented as he sank to the grass next to Hermione.

"How so?" Harry asked. "Have you even had class yet?"

"I'm not talking academically," Draco replied. "I'm talking in Slytherin specifically. Crabbe and Goyle both failed their O.W.L.s, so they're repeating fifth year. That means they're not in our dormitory anymore – which is fine by me, since Crabbe snores worse than a giant – but it also means that there are just three of us left…"

"Yourself, Blaise, and Nott," Hermione finished. "Oh, that's a bit awkward." Draco and Blaise, of course, had been fairly good friends since first year, but Theodore Nott had been a thorn in their sides for just as long, preaching pureblood supremacy and sneering at those he thought 'beneath' him.

"Yeah…Nott didn't say much last night, but then, he hardly ever talks to either of us, 'blood traitors' that we are," Draco said with a snort. "I'll just keep doing what I've been doing for the last five years – ignoring him."

"Just be careful," Harry warned. "You never know what Nott might be up to."

"Harry, I've handled him for five years – I think I can survive another two."

Defense with Snape proved to be an eye opener – the dark-haired Head of Slytherin spent the first twenty minutes lecturing them on the sheer difficulty of battling the Dark Arts due to their unpredictability, then wasted no time in putting them to work. He had them pair up and gave them a seemingly simple exercise – one partner was to jinx, and the other partner was to block. The simplicity disappeared when he demanded that they do the task nonverbally, a detail they hadn't had much practice with and which proved exceedingly difficult. Only Hermione managed to cast a completely nonverbal shield, and even that didn't happen until there were only five minutes left in the lesson. Snape set them a lengthy essay for homework and told them to practice their nonverbal magic, and they hurried from the classroom with sighs of relief.

After lunch, Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way downstairs to the dungeons for their first Potions lesson with Slughorn. A handful of students were already waiting, but it seemed like their N.E.W.T. class was going to be quite small. And indeed, by the time the classroom door opened and they filed inside, scarcely more than a dozen students had assembled. Harry took stock of his new classmates as they found seats – Ron, Hermione, Draco, Tracey, Daphne Greengrass, Theodore Nott, Michael Corner, Terry Boot, Padma Patil, Lisa Turpin, Anthony Goldstein, Mandy Brocklehurst, Ernie Macmillan, Susan Bones, and Eloise Midgen. Sixteen total, including himself, and almost all of them were in Dumbledore's Army. Perhaps this class wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Good afternoon!" Slughorn greeted them jovially as he came out from behind his desk. He wore detailed robes made of enough deep purple velvet to craft a small tent, and he beamed as he surveyed his newest class. "Welcome to N.E.W.T. Potions! Materials out, please, you'll be getting to work in just a moment, you know!"

"Excuse me, Professor?" Susan Bones had her hand in the air.

"Yes?"

"Well, Professor Sprout said I might be able to borrow a textbook for the day – I didn't know I could continue with Potions until this morning, you see."

"Ah, yes, of course! The Heads of House did mention that several of you might be in that situation. How many are in need of supplies?" In addition to Susan, Harry, Ron, and Anthony raised their hands. "Not to worry – plenty for all to share until you can owl home."

"Pathetic," Nott muttered, just loud enough that Susan heard him. "If you can't manage the proper marks, you shouldn't be here."

"Say that again to my face, I dare you," Susan snapped, her wand pointed at Nott's nose. Nott scowled.

"Well then!" Slughorn said, his eyes wide. "No need for that, so if you'll just put your wand away, Miss…"

"Bones," Susan said shortly, though she didn't take her eyes off Nott, "Susan Bones."

"Oho!" Slughorn's tone was decidedly more excited now. "Are you perhaps related to Madam Amelia Bones, of Magical Law Enforcement?"

"She's my aunt, yes," Susan said, though she didn't elaborate further. She did, however, finally give in to Eloise's tugging of her arm and sit down.

"Wonderful, wonderful! An extraordinary witch, she is. Now, let's find out who the rest of you are, shall we?"

The rest of the introductions played out just as Sirius had suggested they would. Slughorn inquired after several people's relatives, and he seemed a bit disappointed that Hermione was not, in fact, related to famous potioneer Hector Dagworth-Granger. He passed on genial greetings to Ron's father, and he paused curiously as he really looked at Draco for the first time.

"Surely you're not…you look so much like…but your surname is Black?" he asked, clearly confused.

"Yes, I am Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy's son, though I much prefer my adopted family over my birth one, Professor," Draco said somewhat coolly.

"Interesting," Slughorn murmured, nobody quite sure what he meant. Then he turned to Harry.

"Well, there's no doubt who you are, m'boy!" he exclaimed. "Spitting image of your father at that age, although you've got your mother's eyes – brilliant with Potions, she was, Lily! So terribly sorry to hear what happened…" Harry wasn't entirely sure that Slughorn really was sorry at all, as the condolence had been added as a bit of an afterthought; judging by the calculating look on Hermione's face, she was having similar thoughts and didn't like it one bit. Harry almost laughed – Hermione was fiercely protective of both himself and Draco, and Slughorn had just made less-than-complimentary statements towards them both. He was very curious to see what she'd do next.

Slughorn finished up the roll call, then gestured towards a series of cauldrons on the tables, each one filled with a gently bubbling potion.

"I've brewed a sampling of potions you will be expected to know as N.E.W.T. students," Slughorn said. "We won't be making any of these today, but keep in mind that any of them are fair game from now on. Now, who can tell me what this is?" He pointed to the first cauldron, which housed what looked like water.

"Veritaserum, the strongest truth potion there is," Hermione said immediately, though she kept her expression impassive as opposed to her usual eagerness.

"Very good! And this?" The liquid in the second cauldron was thick and sludgy.

"Polyjuice Potion," Hermione replied smoothly. Slughorn grinned in satisfaction.

"Excellent, Miss Granger. I don't suppose you know what this one is as well?" The third cauldron smelled heavenly, Harry thought, and had thick spirals of steam rising from the surface.

"Amortentia," Hermione said. "It's the most powerful love potion in the world, and it smells differently for everyone, depending on what they're attracted to."

"And what does it smell like to you, Miss Granger?" Slughorn asked. Hermione fought back the urge to roll her eyes and smiled sweetly instead. She knew exactly what the Amortentia smelled like, and she knew exactly how to describe it.

"It smells like family, friendship, and home," she said. Slughorn looked confused, but Hermione refused to elaborate any further. Out of sight, Draco squeezed her hand under the table in satisfaction.

"Well, then…twenty points to Gryffindor," Slughorn said finally. "Well done. Take out your books and turn to page ten, please…"

"Professor?" Ron asked. "What's that one?" He pointed to the cauldron on Slughorn's desk, which contained a potion of pure gold. The liquid skipped merrily all about the surface, yet nary a drop spilled.

"Oho!" Slughorn said once more. "This…this is the prize for today's lesson! Felix Felicis!"

"Liquid luck!" Hermione gasped, unable to contain herself this time. "But that's extremely tricky to get right!"

"Right you are, Miss Granger – take another ten points. Devilishly tricky little potion, but when made right, the effects are absolutely wonderful." Slughorn paused for a moment and closed his eyes, his blissful expression suggesting that he was remembering personal experiences with the golden potion. "Now, you're to each attempt the potion on page ten – the Draught of Living Death. Whoever has the best potion at the end of the class period wins a vial of Felix Felicis. Off you go!" The class immediately scrambled to find the correct page and gather their ingredients.

"That was a positively Slytherin response, Lotte," Draco murmured as he set his scales, unable to keep the smirk off his face.

"Well, I wasn't about to tell him what I actually smelled, not after what he said about you two," Hermione said with a slight huff. She chose a knife from her potions kit and began chopping her valerian roots. Draco chuckled at his girlfriend's indignation.

"And what did it smell like?" he asked.

"None of your business," Hermione replied, though she relaxed and smiled a little. "Now be quiet, you're distracting me. Ugh, Harry, do you want to share my book for today? That one's disgusting!" Harry had just returned from the store cupboard and was gingerly holding an old copy of Advanced Potion-Making, the pages covered in an unidentifiable substance that was a most unpleasant shade of green.

"I think I'll be alright – page ten is clean, anyway," Harry replied as he began chopping roots as well. "I contacted Padfoot this morning, so I should have my own book soon."

The talking ceased then, and the rest of the period was quiet as they worked. The Draught of Living Death was far more difficult than anything they'd attempted before, and the ideal stages that the book described eluded them all. At the end of the period, Slughorn examined each potion carefully and eventually declared Hermione the winner, though even hers was deep purple instead of the desired lilac. Hermione accepted the vial with thanks and carefully tucked it inside her bag before following her friends from the room. Once they'd left the dungeons, though, she let loose.

"I cannot believe his nerve," she hissed. "Talking so flippantly about your mother that way...and you! The way he looked at you, Dragon, when he found out who your parents were – it's disgusting!"

"Maya, calm down," Harry soothed. "Padfoot told me this morning that Slughorn would be like that – he said he likes to 'collect trophies' and that he'd probably say something about us."

"Just because Padfoot told you it would happen doesn't make it right," Hermione insisted. Draco took her hand and interlaced their fingers, squeezing gently.

"Lotte, I wouldn't worry about it," he said. "He's obviously going to do it whether we want him to or not, and I'm not all that fussed about it, to be honest. Focus your energy on blowing his mind with your brilliance, and then maybe he'll think twice about his comments."

"Fine," Hermione huffed, brushing an errant curl out of her face with her free hand. "I won't worry about it. But that doesn't mean I have to like it." The boys laughed.

"You wouldn't be Hermione if you did," Harry said. "Come on, let's go get some dinner."

That night, the sixth-year Gryffindor girls were readying themselves for bed, idly chatting about their days as they did so.

"How was Potions?" Parvati asked as she ran a brush through her hair. "Padma said that the new professor is very different from Snape."

"He is," Hermione said. "He's a bit full of himself, if you ask me, and quick to judge. He did show us some interesting potions, though – Veritaserum, Felix Felicis, Amortentia."

"Amortentia?" Lavender repeated, looking interested. "Oooh, that sounds like fun."

"Well, we certainly didn't make it," Hermione said with a slight frown. "It's very tricky…"

"Never mind that," Lavender said dismissively. "Tell us about it! Amortentia – the world's most powerful love potion. What did it smell like? I'll bet it was something…delicious." She licked her lips suggestively.

"Hermione doesn't have to tell you if she doesn't want to, Lavender," Eloise said.

"Oh, it's just a bit of fun!" Lavender insisted. "Honestly, I don't understand why you insist on gallivanting around with Slytherins, but even I have to admit that-"

"Lav, I would highly recommend not finishing that sentence," Parvati cut in, but if the dark look on Hermione's face was anything to go by, her intervention came too late. Parvati remembered all too well Lavender's rather rude comments about Draco after the boggart lesson back in their third year – and Hermione hadn't even heard those, nor had she been dating Draco at the time. Clearly, Lavender hadn't learned that messing with Hermione Granger was a terrible idea.

"That is exactly your problem, Lavender," Hermione hissed. "You still think of him – of them – as Slytherins instead of people, and you judge them all based on the qualities of a select few. You have no right to say anything like that about Draco, because you don't know him, at all. My relationship with him is, quite frankly, none of your business, but I'll tell you right now that it means far more than any 'gallivanting' that you've ever done, and I'll thank you to stop acting like it does!"

The room was silent for several long moments following Hermione's tirade, the only sounds Crookshanks' contented purrs as he kneaded Hermione's blankets and decidedly ignored the goings-on around him.

"You really care about him, don't you?" Parvati finally said quietly. Hermione nodded curtly.

"I do – and nothing any of you can say will change that. He's far more than a Slytherin, far more than anything you could say about his name or his background or his looks – he's Draco, the boy I've known since I was seven, and that's more than enough for me." Hermione flopped back onto her pillows and picked up a book, clearly signaling that the discussion was over. Lavender grumbled something unintelligible and turned her back to the rest of the room, and Parvati and Eloise finished getting into bed in uncomfortable silence. Just as she had in third year, Parvati felt compelled to say something, but she didn't know what to say. Finally, she decided to settle for something simple:

"If only we could all have such love – you're a lucky girl, Hermione Granger." In spite of herself, Hermione smiled.

"Thanks, Parvati. I'd say so too." She closed her book, not really wanting to do any more reading, and extinguished her light, plunging the room into darkness as she settled down to sleep.

A/N: I've been sick, I've been bored...so you get chapter 12 a few days early. Woohoo! Plus Hermione's sassy side was begging to get out, & I hate leaving you all with boring filler chapters for too long, haha.

Thanks for the follows/faves/reviews, & for reading!

JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R&R, & enjoy! :)