It felt just like back in Gryffindor Tower when Harry found himself drifting into awareness the next morning. He heard Neville's soft breaths, low, almost unnoticeable snoring from the bed beside him and the sound of someone mumbling under their breath. The bathroom that was connected to their dorm was in use. It was all so familiar that for just a moment, he forgot that he no longer slept in Gryffindor. He rolled over onto his back with a content sigh and blinked his eyes open. Instead of the customary crimson he was used to seeing first thing in the morning, his eyes were assaulted by a strong yellow, reminiscent of the sun. The memories returned at once and so did the realisation that he no longer slept in Gryffindor Tower and that the snoring simply couldn't be Ron's. It was too subtle, he realized as he listened closely, and the mumbling was not nearly Irish enough to be Seamus'.

He grabbed his glasses from the nightstand and shoved them onto his face. His new dorm was set up quite differently. It wasn't a circular shape as his old one had been but a simple rectangle. Harry's bed was farthest away from the door and closest to the bathroom. The walls were painted a more muted yellow that he didn't find too radiating too look at and the furniture was a light wood Neville had identified as burke. They still slept in four-poster beds that were just as comfy and they each had a nightstand for themselves. A fireplace was placed at the wall opposite their beds, leaving them with just enough room to walk past it and Dean Thomas' bed. A single desk and two chairs stood in a niche beside the bathroom door together with a small bookshelf.

With a sigh, he stood up, grabbed his robes from the foot of his bed and walked into the bathroom. By the time he returned to the dorm, Neville had woken up and Dean was stuffing as many books as he could into his satchel bag.

"Morning," he said.

Dean startled and turned around. "Blimey, Harry," he said. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that new voice of yours- or your new look."

He shrugged. "Give it a few days."

"Did you?"

"What?"

"Get used to it," Dean clarified, sitting down on his bed. "I mean, you're the last person I'd expected to be a Malfoy."

"Technically, I'm a Black now," he said. "Mrs M- My mother, she divorced Malfoy this summer. And yeah, I think I got used to it. It's a bit weird still but not as much as in the beginning, I guess."

He'd have to see McGonagall about the name business as well- during the announcement on the train, they'd called his brother Black, so they must've received their mother's letter regarding their name change. He'd choose Eoin Black over Eoin Malfoy any day.

He hesitated. "So, uh, do you, like, want us to call you Eoin now?" Harry grimaced at the butchered version of his name.

"Uh, no, Harry's fine. And it's actually pronounced like Owen. I dunno why they spelt it like that, I never asked."

Looking back on it, he probably should've asked at some point. He really didn't care much for the name but it was his, after all, the only name that was truly meant for him. Harry had been named after his grandfather, Henry Potter, according to the tales Professor McGonagall had conveyed to his brother, and had Harry found out about this connection earlier, he would've been ecstatic. As it was, however, he still didn't know where his name came from. Lily and James had named their son after James' father and he had simply taken it over.

Still, Harry mightn't have been meant for him but he liked that name. He'd grown up with it and he really couldn't imagine dropping it anytime soon.

After promising Neville he'd wait for him in the common room, Harry draped his book bag over his shoulder and left the dorm. He didn't fancy being in there still when Ernie and Justin woke up. He didn't know either of them very well but he could vividly remember Ernie supporting every rumour that was being spread about him and the night before, both of them had seemed rather vary of his presence in the Hufflepuff dorms.

"Morning, Harry," George fell down onto the couch besides him. "You know, I don't approve of these folks' colour choices but they've got the best couches."
It really was a really comfy couch. They had more than Gryffindor Tower too. Enough to seat all of them, probably.

"My dorm, though, let me tell you, it'll probably burn my eyes out by the end of the year. So yellow!"

"Yeah, who would've guessed Hufflepuff would be so yellow."

George grinned and wiggled a finger in Harry's face. "Don't get smart with me, Harrikins. I bet you didn't expect the sun to shine from the walls either."

He made to retort when the portrait guarding the common room swung open to reveal Professor McGonagall, as stern and firm as ever. The old professor looked around the room solemnly and finally settled her piercing gaze on Harry.

"Mr Black, a word?"

"Uh, of course," he stood up and was almost out of the door before he remembered why he'd been in the common room in the first place. He turned back around to where George was still sitting. "I told Neville I'd wait up for him."

George nodded. "I'll tell him where you've gone."

He shot him a quick grin before hurrying to follow the impatient professor.

McGonagall didn't speak another word as she led him through the castle up to her office at a brisk pace. For some odd reason, he was comforted by her behaviour- this was how it usually went down when she needed to talk to him. She hadn't changed and, Merlin, was he glad for it.

Even though she didn't seem to have changed, Harry couldn't help but feel that he was still seeing her differently. When he'd last talked to her, he hadn't been aware of her family. He hadn't known that she had a daughter and a son-in-law and a grandson that she loved. His parentage had still been a secret, one that she was about to reveal to the whole world.

Her office had changed. Whereas it had been rather bare and impersonal before, the walls and the desk were now decorated with a variety of pictures. He'd seen enough photos of Nathan and his family to recognize the brown-haired boy that appeared in almost every frame and for the first time, the reality of their new connection sunk in. Nathan, his little brother, was his Transfiguration Professor's grandson. His brother called the stern woman "Grandmum" and didn't fear her the least. He spoke so fondly of her that it was sometimes easy to forget that Nathan's Grandmum and Harry's teacher were the very same person.

"How do you get along with Nathan?"

He blinked, taken aback by the question. "Uh, pretty good, I think. I like him."

"That's good. I suspect my grandson will share that sentiment. He, like most children, was raised on stories of you," she smiled before shaking her head slightly. "However, I did not summon you here to talk about Nathan. Harry, I owe you an apology. When I discovered who you truly are, I should've taken appropriate steps and not kept it a secret."

"Uh, that's alright-"

"No, it's not. I found out about your parentage at the end of your First Year. You were only ten years old, one of the youngest students this school has ever seen even if no one knew about it. It was my duty to protect you and I failed that duty when I decided to send you back to those horrid Muggles and leave you in the dark," she said grimly. "I did it because I was selfish. I always suspected that Nathan's adoption hadn't been entirely legal and when I found out about you…there was no doubt that if I exposed you, my daughter would lose her only son and I could not bear to take her joy away from her."

"I understand, Professor. Really, I do."

She smiled at him sadly. "You really are Lily's son. You may not be her blood but you are her son," the smile was replaced by a serious expression as she straightened her back. "Well, be that as it may, there are some things I wish to discuss with you. I assume it hasn't escaped your notice that our new Headmistress works very closely with the Minister. I must urge you to be careful around her. She will use any chance she can get to get rid of you. Do you understand that?"

"Yes."

"Good. You may go now. Better hurry, the prefects will hand out your schedules soon."

Harry nodded and stood up. His hand was already curled around the door handle when McGonagall spoke up once more.

"Oh, and one more thing. Don't let them call you Malfoy. I forgot about it yesterday in the hurry of it all but it's very important that you insist on being called Black. By calling you Malfoy, they will try to undermine you and perhaps your brothers as well. That name is a disgrace and you can't let them use it in reference to you. Don't let them undermine you. Good luck, Harry."

"Thank you, Professor."

Hermione and Ron were already glancing over their schedule by the time Harry arrived in the Great Hall. Neville hadn't waited in the common room, thankfully, but had made his way to the Ravenclaw table to have breakfast with Nathan and Luna. For a moment, Harry gravitated toward his brother but he pulled back to go sit with his friends. Nathan was fine. He certainly didn't look like someone had rough-housed him the night before or given him any trouble whatsoever. He was just being stupid.

Fred and George rushed past him without a word, leaving him barely enough time to revel at the sight of them together. It had been weird sitting in the common room with only George around.

"Good morning, Harry! Are you alright? I've got your timetable."

"Yeah," he sat down beside Ron and groaned as he spotted what they'd have to put up with first thing. Double Potions. "I can't believe we've got double Potions."

"Me neither," Ron grumbled. "You don't even know the worst thing yet, mate! Hermione's got Charms instead of Potions!"

"What?" He grabbed Hermione's timetable out of her hand. "Why?"

"Everyone has a different schedule. I couldn't find one person with the exact same one as me."

Ron stabbed a sausage unhappily. "Yeah, even we don't share all of them. After Potions, I'll have Charms and you'll be in Transfiguration."
He laid the three parchment pieces besides each other and eyed them closely as he filled his plate with scrambled eggs. "Wait, it says here I've got Arithmancy tomorrow."

"Everyone who took Divination before was signed up for something else. I think they don't offer it anymore."

"You don't seem very bothered by that. They must've fired Trelawney."

She shrugged. "Divination isn't real anyway."

Harry frowned at her but didn't comment further. Divination was the only thing Hermione didn't excel in and she had never made it a secret that she loathed both the subject and Trelawney.

Ten minutes before classes were set to begin, Harry and Ron parted ways with Hermione to start their walk down to the dungeons. Harry had never liked Potions and he wasn't good at it anyway. Snape, in his usual horrid way, only made it worse. He remembered faintly that he'd been looking forward to the class, before he'd met the professor. It was magic and everything to do with magic was exciting back then. Once he'd had his first encounter with Snape, that excitement washed away and left only the bitter taste of disappointment behind.

"Harry, Ron, wait up!"

Harry's heart sunk further as he spied Neville running after them. Between the three of them, they'd lose hundreds of house points and earn dozens of detentions. Neville was a genius when it came to plants but he was just as useless as Harry when it came to potions, maybe even more so, and Snape breathing down his neck had never served to ease Neville's fear.

"You too?" Ron muttered, picking up the pace again once Neville caught up to them. "Have they just put everyone who's useless in potions in the same class? No offense."

Neville shrugged. "None taken. Hermione's not with us?"

"She's got Charms."

"I wish I'd have Charms now," he said wistfully, absently picking on the hem of his robes. "Harry, Nate said to tell you that Mrs Malfoy sent you a letter."

"It's Ms Black now," he corrected. "Why does Nathan have my letter?"

"She sent it with Zeus."

"Who's Zeus?" Ron asked.

Harry glanced at him. "Nathan's owl. Did he say anything else?"

"Just that he'd give it to you at lunch. He didn't want to forget so he told me to go sure you'd know and could remind him."

By the time they arrived at the Potions classroom, almost all seats were already taken. All students, Harry noticed, wore the Pendragon crest.

They found seats near the back of the room, which Harry wasn't too upset about, and were almost done pulling out their things when Snape swept into the room with his black robes billowing behind him.

"As all of you ought to remember," Snape began before he'd even reached the front of the room. "Next June, every one of you will be required to sit one of the most important examinations of your career. Although I realize that Headmistress Umbridge has cleverly put the most moronic of you all in one class, lest you disrupt the others, I expect nothing less than 'Acceptable' out of all of you. Of course, you won't be able to continue this class in your Sixth Year. Your level of…expertise," he sneered. "Cannot hope to match the standards I set for those who wish to take their N.E.W.T.s in this class. I certainly don't expect to see even one of you again in one year's time."

Harry didn't feel too horrible at the prospect of not having to endure two more years of Snape's teaching.

"Until then, however, I am required to continue teaching you- although trying to teach might be a more apt description. Today's potion is the Draught of Peace, used to soothe the distraught mind," he tapped the blackboard and a list of ingredients and steps appeared at once. "Be careful with the ingredients. Too graciously used and your potion will put its drinker into a heavy sleep."

With another flick of his wand, the cupboard flew open and everyone set to work. By the end of the class, neither Ron, Neville nor Harry had managed a potion that was even close to what it should've been. It didn't bode well at all for them- the first potion of the year was, by Snape's standard, the easiest. They had failed miserably and he didn't see how they could possibly improve enough to reach an 'Acceptable' by the time June rolled around.

"I've got Transfiguration next," he said as they took the stairs up.

"Maybe McGonagall will go easy on you," Ron offered. "You being her grandson's twin brother and all."

Neville shook his head. "I've grown up with Nathan and she never went easy on me," he glanced at his schedule. "I've got Transfiguration as well."

"What's going on up there?"

A cheering crowd had gathered before the Grand Staircase. Frowning, Harry pushed through them, hoping to catch a glimpse at what was happening. In the middle of the crow stood Draco and a Slytherin boy from the year above them, flanked by Draco's former goons who towered even the tall Sixth Year.

"Not so strong now, are you, traitor?"

"I'm not a traitor," Draco hissed.

"Oh, is that so?" The Sixth Year taunted. "How come you're hanging with Potter's crowd then?"

Crabbe cackled. "Yeah, Malfoy. Even needed Potter and Longbottom to protect you, didn't you?"

"You know, Crabbe, I wonder where all that bravery was when Longbottom broke your nose. Mind, he's a fourteen-year-old who is at least half a foot smaller than you, I see why you'd be scared of him."

"That filthy Blood Traitor took me by surprise-"

"Of course he did," Draco cooed.

"Why, you-"

The Sixth Year held up his hand. "Shut it, Crabbe. Now, Malfoy, he mightn't be the smartest of the bunch but he speaks the truth. Potter and another of those Longbottom fools? Pathetic."

Harry straightened his back and stepped out of the crowd, immediately attracting several stares.

"Why don't you say that to my face?"

"Fine," the boy smirked. "It's pathetic that Malfoy needs your pitiful help to stand up to others."

Crack. His hand collided with his nose the way Nathan's had collided with Crabbe's. Shaking his smarting hand, Harry suddenly understood why his brother preferred this method of fighting. He looked on with a sick fascination as the boy clapped his hands over his nose.

"I'm sorry, have I taken you by surprise?"

"What is going on here?"

Snape pushed past the students and glared at the lot of them. His gaze almost immediately settled on Harry.

"Black," he sneered. "I should've known you'd be involved in this-"

"It wasn't his fault," Draco interrupted. "Mulciber, Crabbe and Goyle cornered me, threatened me and insulted my family. P- My brother was only attempting to help me."

Snape glowered at his godson before nodding slowly. "Very well. All five of you are to go straight to my office- without any more fighting if you please."

"I'll see you later," Harry muttered as they went by Neville, who simply nodded at him.

The door slammed shut behind them. Harry and the four Slytherins were stood before Snape's desk as the man strode around them to stand with his back facing them.

"Mulciber, Crabbe, Goyle, you will lose 10 points each and serve two detentions with me. You're dismissed. See to it that you find yourselves in your classrooms hurriedly. As you ought to be aware, I will know if you do not comply. And Mulciber, do have Madame Pomfrey see to your nose."

With a hurried nod, they scrambled from the room and Harry awkwardly shifted to the right, farther away from where his arm had previously been pressed against Draco's. Snape slowly turned around and sat down in his straight-backed chair, eyeing them both with cold black eyes. He still didn't speak a word and just as Harry opened his mouth to finally break the tense silence, a knock on the door did the job for him. Without waiting to be asked in, the door was pushed open and Nathan stuck his head into the room.

"You asked to see me?"
Snape beckoned Nathan to come closer. Once they all stood in a line, he leant forward.

"Are you or are you not aware of the public attention all three of you are being given at the moment?"

"Yes, sir," Harry and Draco mumbled, deliberately ignoring Nathan's confused gaze.

"Then what in Merlin's name made you think it was a good idea to break Mulciber's nose?"

"You broke his nose?" Nathan asked, laughing.

Snape glared at him. "Don't assume I haven't been made aware that you took the same approach times and times before and are likely what started this. Merlin knows that Potter doesn't need you to make him more of a brute than he already is."

"I'm not a brute!" Harry snapped hotly.

"Be that as it may," Snape continued, ignoring Harry's remark. "I'm certain your grandmother will be having words with you shortly. Until then, all three of you need to understand that you're in no position to be bold or reckless," he sneered. "Make no mistake, few people would care if you are expelled or worse."

"Uncle Severus-"

Snape's eyes softened slightly as he looked upon Draco. "Draco, I have not endured many a sleepless night to find a cure for you just to see you throw your life away because you felt it necessary to be loyal to some boys you happen to be related to."

"May I speak to you alone?"

As soon as Snape curtly nodded his head, Harry grabbed Nathan's sleeve and was out of the room before the professor had even finished his nod.