* ~ The Eighth Year Universe Series ~ *

PART THREE

The Eighth Year

Chapter 6: The Apprentice Becomes the Master

When Harry, Ron and Hermione walked into the corridor outside their Transfiguration classroom, they came face to face with the Slytherins taking the class.

"Ah, there's our chosen one," Daphne smirked, "Are you befriending all Slytherins or just Draco?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "I don't remember us becoming friends, do you, Malfoy?"

"Certainly not," Draco drawled, "As I told you, Daphne, we agreed to consider ourselves as acquaintances."

Daphne's smirk remained fixed on her face, and Harry felt uncomfortable as she surveyed him, "Pity, you might actually like some of us if you got to know us, Potter."

"Hey, I don't have a blanket ban on befriending Slytherins," Harry joked, "Just Slytherins who happened to be my arch enemy up until to a few days ago."

Hermione scoffed, "Arch-enemies, honestly. Dumbledore and Grindelwald were arch-enemies; you two are not arch enemies. Have you ever had massive duels that nearly killed people?"

Draco raised an eyebrow at Hermione, "I don't know if you recall Granger, but Potter attempted to cut me to pieces in sixth year."

Harry glanced down guiltily, "Yeah, I am sorry about that," he said genuinely.

This genuine apology threw Draco. He simply shrugged, and all of a sudden, the air was tense again. There was such a fine line to toe with Draco and Harry because of all of the shit that had happened in the past. If anything more was going to be said, there was no time for it. The classroom door opened by itself, and McGonagall immediately had them line up against the wall so that she could seat them to promote house unity.

Harry sighed. If all classes were like this, he would never get to sit with Ron and Hermione. He understood what McGonagall was trying to do, but he wanted to sit with his friends in at least one class. They were all seated in twos again, next to someone who wasn't in their own house. This time Ron ended up with Terry Boot and Hermione with Sadie Cauldwell, neither of them seemed very bothered about their partners, and they were at the table next to each other.

Harry was paired with Daphne at the table behind Ron, and the redhead winked at him. He knew about Harry's brief crush on the Slytherin girl, and if he was honest, Harry's heart had leapt a little bit when he heard the pairing. Ginny was in this class because it was one of the few that they shared with the seventh years; she had been paired with Draco. Harry was surprised when he glanced around and saw them talking quite civilly, but then he remembered what she had said about him helping out the DA the previous year while Harry and his friends had been on the run.

"Well, lucky me," Daphne said from next to Harry, "I get to sit with the chosen one."

Harry raised an eyebrow at the blonde girl, who smiled, "I'm Daphne Greengrass. I was in your Potions class in sixth year."

"I remember you," Harry said, trying very hard not to blush. Their conversation was stopped there as the lesson began, and McGonagall called for silence.

The rest of the day went by very slowly, and Harry wished for it to be fifth period so he could find out what kind of teacher Aberforth Dumbledore was going to be. After Transfiguration, Harry headed to Herbology. Thankfully, they got to choose their seats around the long table, which meant Harry, Ron and Hermione could work together and talk in undertones as they popped open puffapod seeds.

Lunch passed quickly, and Harry, Ron and Hermione hurried up to the third floor to wait outside their Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Five minutes later, the rest of the class arrived and the door opened of its own accord. A gruff voice called,

"Come in then, you lot!"

Harry and Ron shared an amused grin and were the first to walk into the room. It looked far better than the last time Harry had been in it, back when Snape had been teaching DADA. The windows were no longer blacked out, and the grotesque pictures had been removed.

Aberforth was sitting on the desk watching them all. Nobody walked to seats because they were unsure if they were allowed to sit where they wanted.

"Right then, I'm Professor Dumbledore."

There was some sniggering.

Aberforth rolled his eyes, "Yeah, not that, Dumbledore. I'm not Albus risen from the dead, and I'm not a patient saint like him either. Let's get one thing straight here, I hate kids, and I hate teaching. I'm only doing this because I owe Minerva a favour, and I'm out of here the minute she finds a proper teacher."

Harry smirked at these words, and Ron was shaking with silent laughter next to him.

"So, Minerva said you should all sit next to someone who isn't in your house to promote all of this house unity nonsense. Well, that's never going to work, but I've got to do what the boss lady says, so sit down next to someone who isn't in your house and then we'll get on with this class."

There was chaos as people scrambled to sit next to someone who wasn't in their house but who was still their friend so that they didn't get stuck next to someone that they didn't like. Hermione sat down next to Sadie Cauldwell, and Ron quickly slid into a seat next to his fellow Cannons fan, Susan Bones.

Harry glanced around at the few remaining seats and sat down at the table at the back of the room; he was just going to have to wait and see who was left. He supposed he should have made more of an effort to make friends who weren't in Gryffindor or to make more friends in general. The seats had filled up fast, and the last person to find one happened to be Draco Malfoy.

He rolled his eyes when he saw that the last seat was next to Harry, "Oh seriously?" he remarked irritably as he threw himself into the chair.

Aberforth scoffed, "Suck it up, Malfoy. Where you're sitting now is where you're sitting till the end of the term or until Minerva can find a proper teacher. You're eighth years; you know your stuff, so I'll just be sitting here leaving you to get on with it."

"You aren't going to teach us?" Harry asked in surprise.

Aberforth rolled his eyes, "I'll teach you, but I'm not going to be happy about it."

"What about practical experience?" Harry asked.

Aberforth barked out a laugh, "I reckon your year group have had enough practical experience for a lifetime, Potter."

Harry couldn't argue with that, "Oh come on, Abe, classes will be boring if you don't let us do practical work. It's seventh-year work; we can do Patronuses and talk about how to become Animagi-"

Aberforth pushed himself to his feet, "Do you think you can teach this class, Potter?" he asked irritably.

Harry hid his smirk, "And? Who do you think led an army for your brother?"

"Oi!"

"Sorry, Nev," Harry grinned, "You did too."

"He led them into battle. You just taught us some swanky magic," Lilly piped up with a smirk.

"Cheers, Lil," Neville chuckled.

Aberforth shook his head in amusement, "Alright then, Potter, come up here and teach this class."

He was challenging Harry, probably thinking that he would back down or change his mind. Aberforth probably wasn't expecting Harry to stand up and walk to the front of the class.

Harry pushed himself up onto the desk and rolled up his sleeves while the class watched him in amusement, and Aberforth surveyed him with interest.

"Good afternoon, class!" Harry said brightly, "So, I think since we're at seventh-year level and almost all of us fought in the war, we should be looking at learning defensive spells rather than offensive ones because we already know the bulk of that. Now, the Patronus charm is a particularly handy spell because-"

"Merlin," Aberforth mumbled, "You really were my brother's apprentice."

Harry smirked and continued, "-because it protects against dark creatures, chiefly Dementors. Any questions?"

"Can't it also be used to send messages, Professor Potter?" Daphne Greengrass smirked.

Harry grinned, "Excellent question. Yes, it can be used to send messages. It's faster than floo, and it is tough to intercept."

Lilly held her hand up.

"Yes?"

"If it's so difficult to intercept, why couldn't any of us use it last year without being caught?" Lilly asked.

"Because there were extensive surveillance charms on the castle, which meant that every Patronus message, which is of course read aloud, could be heard through the listening charms set up on the castle," Harry answered.

"Plus, Death Eaters tend to notice a massive white animal appearing in the middle of a room."

Neville smirked in amusement, and Lilly snorted, "Fair point."

Harry grinned, "Raise your hand if you have ever performed a Patronus charm."

Hermione shook her head in disbelief as she raised her hand and mumbled to Sadie, "I can't believe he's just taken over this entire class."

"It's kind of his area of expertise," Sadie whispered to her friend.

Aberforth was watching on in amusement. He seemed pretty content to let Harry continue with the teaching of the class because he clearly didn't want to be here.

"The trick to casting a successful Patronus charm is your happy memory," Harry said as he jumped down from the desk, "If you have a memory that literally fills you with joy and you focus on it and let it fill you up, your Patronus has a far better shot at taking a form. It isn't easy magic, and many wizards can't cast a Patronus at all. Any more questions?"

Sadie raised her hand out of habit.

Harry smiled slightly, "Yes?"

The blonde Slytherin girl lowered her hand, "Does the form your Patronus takes have something to do with your personality?"

"Yes, it does," Harry replied as he began to pace, "It can take the form of someone, or something, close to your heart. My Patronus takes the form of something that reminds me of my Father, and I have known people whose Patronuses have changed when they are in love to reflect that. Often your Patronus reflects your personality traits; if you are loyal, it may become a dog. It can also reflect your magical ability and become a magical creature, or reflect your name," Harry glanced over at Draco, "For example, Draco's name means 'dragon', and I suspect his Patronus may take the form of a dragon because of that."

"Give us a look at yours then!" Theo said eagerly.

Harry chuckled, "Alright, but it's quite big, so don't be alarmed. It won't hurt you."

"That's what she said!" Ron jeered.

"Oi Aberforth, give him a detention," Harry smirked.

"I'm your best mate!" Ron objected.

"Exactly," Harry said with a raised eyebrow.

"Aye, order order!" Aberforth said with an amused look at them all.

Harry shut his eyes, focused on his happy memory and shouted, "Expecto Patronum!"

There were shouts and gasps of awe as the huge stag emerged from Harry's wand and pranced out of the classroom into the hallway. When it had vanished, he got much applause from the class, and Aberforth shook his head in amusement, "Right, that's it. You've got the job, Potter."

Harry turned to Aberforth in surprise, "What?"

"Until Minerva finds a decent replacement, you're teaching the eighth year class," Aberforth told him, "You seem a damn sight better at it than I am."

Harry frowned at the man, "Uh, well, what do you want me to teach?"

"Whatever you want," Aberforth shrugged, "Your Patronus class seems a good enough idea."

Harry glanced at Hermione in amusement, "Right, well, I'll need a helper…"

Harry told everybody to stand up and pushed all of the desks against the walls. He divided the classroom into two sides and looked at his amused best friend once more, "Hermione, would you mind walking up and down the right side of the room for me and helping people out?"

Hermione chuckled, "Of course not," she replied.

They spent the rest of the class helping their fellow eighth years produce Patronuses or perfect their current charms. Nobody who hadn't been able to do one before managed to produce a fully corporeal Patronus that day, but Harry would have been surprised if they had. As it was, they made significant progress. Everyone was capable of producing wisps from their wands by the end of the class.

When the bell rang, Harry restored the classroom to normalcy and grabbed his bag. He walked out of the classroom with Ron because Hermione had rushed on ahead to get to Arithmancy on time.

"You just taught an entire DADA class," Ron sniggered.

"Yeah, that was a bit surreal," Harry grinned.

"Bet McGonagall will go mad when she hears," Ron said in amusement, "Like that time when she found out about Moody turning Malfoy into a ferret."

"I did feel quite bad for Malfoy about that. I mean, it wasn't Moody. It was Crouch which means he was probably doing it to punish Malfoy because his father claimed he was under the imperius curse in the first war..." Harry admitted thoughtfully.

"Whatever, Harry," Ron snorted, "You're reading into it too much; it served him right."

Harry didn't entirely agree, but he didn't want to argue either, "Anyway, what do you reckon I should teach next, Ron?"

"You should do a more up to date class on the Unforgivables," Ron said thoughtfully, "Might make some folk uncomfortable, though. I bet you Malfoy knows all about how to use them; what do you reckon he had to murder someone to become a Death Eater or that he tortured Muggles with the cruciatus curse?" he asked darkly.

A voice from behind them suddenly made Harry and Ron jump, "Yes, I do know all about the unforgivables,"

Draco's cold voice said, "My Father used them for discipline. I highly doubt that you know what it is like to have your father watch while his Death Eater friends use the cruciatus curse on you because you came downstairs for a drink during one of his meetings."

Ron rolled his eyes, "Maybe you shouldn't have become a junior Death Eater then, Malfoy."

"I was fifteen years old, Weasley," Draco remarked scathingly.

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, and Harry said, "Go on to Divination Ron, I'll meet you there."

Ron didn't seem to want to hang around, "Right, see you there, Harry," he said as he walked away very quickly.

"What class do you have next?" Harry asked casually.

"Free period," Draco replied simply.

"Fancy a walk?" Harry asked him.

"I don't have anything better to do," Draco drawled.

He and Harry proceeded to walk through the quiet halls. It was clear to Harry that Draco needed a friend right now; Andromeda and Molly had been right.

"I grew up with Muggles who tried to beat the magic out of me," Harry said conversationally.

"Everyone thinks I grew up being handed everything on a silver platter, but I didn't even know that I was a wizard until I got my Hogwarts letter."

"Why are you telling me this, Potter?" Draco drawled.

"Well, you aren't going to talk about yourself, so I thought I might as well talk about myself," Harry said bluntly, "Do you know that they made me cook their breakfast and clean their house from the age of four? I was basically a house-elf. I even slept in the cupboard under the stairs."

"Potter, I don't care," Draco remarked.

"It wasn't particularly pleasant," Harry continued, "I've got a bit of a thing about small spaces now, but I'm not scared of spiders oddly enough. They were my friends, even after the whole Acromantula thing in second year..."

"Have you lost the plot?" Draco asked in disbelief.

"What plot?" Harry asked calmly.

Draco raised an eyebrow at him, "If you think spilling your sob story to me is going to make me tell you all about my shitty childhood, then you are wrong."

"Oh, go on, Draco," Harry smirked.

"Don't call me Draco," the blonde said irritably, "You're not my friend, Potter."

"But you wanted to be my friend," Harry pointed out, "When you tried to shake my hand in first year."

They had been climbing the stairs to the Divination tower throughout their whole conversation, and they were just nearing the top now.

"That was seven years ago, Potter!" Draco remarked, "It doesn't mean I want to be your friend now."

"What if I want to be your friend?" Harry asked as they reached the landing.

Draco looked startled at the suggestion, "Well…you can't be because I don't like you. Goodbye, Potter."

Harry sniggered as the blonde turned on his heel and stalked off down the stairs. He was still chuckling as he climbed up the ladder into the Divination Classroom. He had to do a double-take as he did; he'd forgotten quite how foggy and heavily scented it was.

Harry walked over to a table where Ron was sitting with Susan Bones, and he sat down on a pink pouffe next to his best friend. He grinned and whispered, "I forgot how fun Malfoy-baiting was."

This caused Ron to burst out into a fit of giggles which Susan seemed to find highly amusing. Harry looked at him in bemusement as Trelawney toppled over towards them and got right up in Harry's face.

"My inner eye tells me that your lateness is due to helping out a friend!" She said dramatically.

Harry was surprised by her accuracy for once, but then again, she had been standing near the trap door, so she had probably just seen him walk upstairs with Draco.

"Uh, yeah, sort of. He's more of an acquaintance, really," Harry said with an amused look at Ron. They were impressed by Trelawney's apparent improvement since they had last had her as a Professor.

"I am delighted to have you back with us, Harry," Trelawney said, "As we have such a little class, we are happy to welcome anyone else!"

She spread her arms, and her shawls fell from her shoulders, making her look like a bat. So yes, she was still as insane as ever.

The class was indeed small; there were four circular tables of three. Next to them sat Dean, Seamus and Megan. Behind Ron and Harry sat the three Slytherin girls, Daphne, Tracey and Sadie. At the last table sat Mandy Brocklehurst, Lilly Moon and Sally-Ann Perks.

They spent the double lesson discussing a famous old Wizard who had predicted his future by analysing his dreams, and they got their first homework of the day, which was to keep a month-long dream diary. Harry and Ron shared an amused grin at this; as usual, they would make up their dreams and make them as crazy and lethal as possible to please Trelawney.

When the class was over, and Harry and Ron were making their way to the great hall for dinner, Harry finally said, "What made you giggle so much in that class?"

Ron grinned and said, "Don't you realise how similar Malfoy-baiting and masturbating sound? I thought you'd said something else at first."

Harry was torn between embarrassment and amusement as his cheeks flushed.

"What were you baiting him about anyway?" Ron asked curiously.

"I was just winding him up," Harry said honestly, "He makes it so easy after all. Do you know I don't actually mind the guy, but if I end up becoming friends with him, I won't be able to slag him off endlessly…and that's one of the most fun things about being back here."

"What, Malfoy-baiting?" Ron asked, descending into another fit of the giggles.

"Oh, goodness Andromeda," Narcissa said as she shook her head over the breakfast table.

"Is that a letter from your darling son?" Andromeda asked with a smile as she fed Teddy his bottle.

Narcissa nodded, smiling slightly, "It's rather dramatic. He really is such a drama queen."

"Heavens, yes," Andromeda chuckled, "Read the letter to me, Cissa."

Narcissa chuckled, "Dear Mother-"

"Doesn't he ever just call you, Mum?" Andromeda asked in amusement.

"Oh, I tried," Narcissa said with a shake of her head, "But Lucius thought it was too common. He calls me Mum when he's upset or sick, but beyond that, I am 'Mother' to him."

Andromeda was still chuckling as Narcissa continued to read the letter.

"The first day back at Hogwarts was bearable, I suppose. I have some friends here, Theo is good company as he always has been, and he seems to have forgiven me for what I did during the war. Even Daphne has been reasonably nice; she has only insulted me a few times for what she likes to call our disastrous breakup.

It is heinous having to share a common room with the likes of Potter and his Gryffindor posse. Would you believe that McGonagall wants to promote house unity and make us all become friends? I have been forced to sit next to Potter in not one but two classes! Beyond that, he took it upon himself to take over from the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor and teach the class today! Who does he think he is?

The rest of his posse have been manageable. Weasley avoids me, which suits me just fine. Granger seems to want to extend the hand of friendship as she put it, but that will not happen, I can assure you. She answered every question posed in every class today, the insufferable know-it-all. To top it off, she stole my favourite table at the library this evening which means I have been forced to share the table with her, and her hair takes up the majority of it. (Can you believe she had the nerve to look at my letter and tell me that I should occasionally call you Mum? As if, how very common that would sound).

I hope you and Aunt Dromeda are well. Give my best regards to her and also to the wolf child. Potter seems to get offended when I call the little blue-haired monster that, so I think I shall keep doing it. The only good thing about being back at this school is Potter-baiting.

Love,

Draco."

"Does he have any of our genetics?" Andromeda asked in amusement.

"I do wonder sometimes," Narcissa said with a chuckle.

"He seems to talk a lot about Hermione," Andromeda pointed out.

"Oh, he always has done," Narcissa said with a roll of her eyes, "He spent every summer telling me about Potter and how he strutted around the school like he owned the place, and Hermione who bested him in every class despite being insufferable. The youngest Weasley was mentioned as a footnote sometimes."

Andromeda chuckled, "Well, I think he talks about her far too much just to hate her. When you write back, tell him that Aunt Dromeda thinks he should stop acting like his Father."

"With pleasure," Narcissa replied.

"Good evening Malfoy."

"Granger, I may have unwittingly sat next to you in the library once, but that does not mean I like you," Draco said matter of factly.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "I didn't say that you did, Malfoy. I was just being polite."

They were in the common room, and it was practically empty. Draco was sitting at a desk doing some homework, and Hermione had just come in from the library.

"Good, then do it elsewhere. I don't need your politeness," Draco said with a wave of his hand.

"Do you actually want to make friends, or is it your goal to be lonely for the rest of your life?" Hermione asked irritably.

"Excuse me?" Draco said coolly, "I have plenty of friends in my own house-"

Hermione cut him off, "And the whole point of this year is to make new friends who aren't in your house! People are trying, Malfoy! Harry, me, Neville, we're all trying to be nice to you."

"Well, I don't want or need you to be nice to me," Draco drawled, "I have far better things to do than hang around with you, Potty and the Weasel."

"See, this is why people don't like you," Hermione said as she crossed her arms and glared at him, "You are pushing everyone away! If you let somebody in, you never know you might actually like them!"

Draco scoffed, and Hermione stalked away up the stairs in a huff. When she was gone, his hand froze over the essay he was writing. He sighed as he grabbed a new piece of parchment and penned a hurried letter to his Aunt Andromeda.

"A letter arrived for you this morning Dromeda," Narcissa said conversationally.

Andromeda smiled at her younger sister; she was walking back and forth in the kitchen with Teddy, trying to lull him back to sleep, "Thank you so much for taking care of him this morning."

Narcissa waved her hand nonchalantly, "Think nothing of it. You did not sleep well last night, I gather?"

"The nightmares," Andromeda admitted as she sat down at the kitchen table, "They have been intermittent since the end of the war."

"I understand," Narcissa said, "Are you grateful for Teddy?"

"All of the time," Andromeda said quietly, "Why do you ask?"

Narcissa sighed as she looked down at the little boy in her arms, "If I had a grandchild, I would be grateful. I would view it as a chance to raise them properly and…to make sure I didn't make all the same mistakes I did with Draco."

"You made no mistakes with Draco," Andromeda said softly as she picked up the letter that was addressed to her on the table.

"He grew up to become a Death Eater," Narcissa sighed, "And he was always arrogant and over-confident."

"I think we both know that was his father's influence, not yours," Andromeda pointed out, "It's all a façade. Beneath his arrogance, he is insecure, and beneath his sarcasm, he is incredibly sweet. Eventually, he will meet friends, or perhaps a woman, who he can be himself with."

"How can you be so certain?" Narcissa asked anxiously, "I don't want him to become bitter and angry as Lucius did."

"Because he is very similar to my Dora," Andromeda said as she looked up at her sister, "And when she became an Auror, she finally fell in with the right crowd, and they stabilised her. The same thing will happen to Draco. I am certain."

Narcissa nodded, "I do hope so," she sighed.

"Speaking of your son, this letter is from him," Andromeda said as a smile played on her lips.

"Is it incredibly secretive, or will you tell me what it says?" Narcissa asked with a smile, "I find it odd that he talks to you about certain things that he will not discuss with me."

"Not certain things, one thing," Andromeda chuckled, "And I do believe it is because I married a Muggle-born, and you did not, my darling sister."

Narcissa raised an eyebrow at her sister, "Now, you must tell me what it says."

Andromeda was still smiling as she read the letter aloud.

"Dear Aunt Dromeda,

Apologies for the rushed nature of this letter. I wanted to send it off promptly. I had some questions about your husband. Of course, I am aware that he was a Muggle-born, but what house was he in? Surely he was not in Slytherin as you were. I also wondered, were you ostracised because of your feelings for him?

Theoretically, do you believe Mother would object if I were to say have feelings for a Muggle-born or a girl not in my house? Or even worse, a Muggle-born who is also not a Slytherin?

Also, in theory, of course. How would one approach a Muggle-born? Pureblood culture is undoubtedly different from Muggle culture, so how exactly would somebody say ask one out or tell them they have feelings for them?

I have friends in predicaments such as these, and I knew you would have the answers.

Love,

Draco."

"I have friends in these predicaments," Narcissa chuckled, "How silly does he think you are? He's talking about himself."

"Of course he is," Andromeda laughed as she began to compose a reply, "And I am fairly certain I know who he's talking about too."

"Well, I am glad he feels he can confide in you," Narcissa smiled, "When you write, please put a P.S on the end of the letter for me."

"Of course," Andromeda smiled, "What would you like to say?"

Narcissa smiled mischievously at her sister in response to that question.

"Dear Draco,

You are awfully formal in your letters, and in my opinion, you sound far too much like your father. You really ought to start calling your Mother Mum (it is not common, contrary to what your father has told you). In response to your questions about your friends in these predicaments, I can only help so much, I am afraid. Not all Muggle-borns are the same, and Muggle traditions differ from region to region or family to family.

My husband Ted was a Hufflepuff, so yes, I was teased rotten for dating him. Although this was by my friends in Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, and it was good-natured. However, my so-called 'friends' in Slytherin did not seem to care for his house, only that he was a Muggle-born, and yes, I was cast out. But I must emphasise that it was in the 1970s, and this is 1998. Our world has seen two wars since I met my husband, and that has changed things. I am not saying that dating a Muggle-born or someone out-with your house will be easy, but I am saying that it is no longer 'social suicide' as my mother called it before she cast me out of the family.

Now, as far as a conflict of cultures goes, I believe that is an excuse Draco. I also think these 'friends' are non-existent. If you have feelings for this girl, then tell her. Do not insult her; that is not pureblood custom, that is your father's custom, and as you know, I think your Father is an idiot. Her culture may be different from yours, but that causes problems in serious relationships, not at the stage you are at. Ask her out, for goodness sake!

What's the worst that could happen?

Love

Aunt Dromeda

P.S. Draco, I hope you do not mind, but Dromeda read your letter to me. I have no objections to you dating a Muggle-born or someone out-with your house or even both. I want you to be happy, and I want you to be able to move on from everything that has happened to you in the last few years. I do not care who that is with. The only person who would is your Father, and he is not here to control our lives anymore - Love, Mum."

"Draco, why are you scoffing at a letter?" Daphne asked conversationally. They had been back at Hogwarts for a week now, and apart from the fact that Draco and Harry seemed to take pleasure in winding each other up, not much had changed from every other year.

"It's from my Aunt Andromeda," Draco said with a shake of his head, "Her advice is dreadful, as always."

"When did you even meet your Aunt Andromeda?" Theo asked with a frown, "Didn't she get disowned for getting knocked up by a Muggle?"

"She married him first; it wasn't a shotgun wedding," Draco said defensively, "And he was a Muggle-born, not a Muggle."

"Not much difference," Blaise said.

"Yes, there is," Draco said stiffly, "What's wrong with marrying a Muggle-born? They're completely different from Muggles."

Tracey raised an eyebrow at the blond boy, "Thinking about marrying a Muggle-born, Draco?"

"No, I'm not," Draco snapped, "I don't like Muggle-borns, and I don't like Gryffindors, and if that's Potter coming over to try and befriend me again, I am going to punch him!"

Daphne, Tracey and Sadie shared amused looks as Harry stopped at the Slytherin table and grabbed a piece of toast.

"Excuse me, Potter, but this is Slytherin territory and therefore Slytherin toast, you have no right to eat it," Draco said irritably.

Harry shrugged, "I was a hat-stall, I nearly became a Slytherin, so I think I do. Anyway, it's a free country Malfoy."

"You can't just strut around this place like you own it-"

"What, like you did for…oh yeah, about six years?" Harry smirked, "My turn, don't you think? Who's your letter from, Andi?"

"That is none of your business," Draco remarked as he stuffed the letter into his pocket.

"Hmm, she sent me one today too," Harry mused, "Filled with plenty of interesting things about you, I even got a P.S from your Mother."

Draco paled significantly.

Daphne snorted in amusement, "Potter, are you blackmailing him?"

Harry grinned, "Not yet, just letting him know that I can do so. Have a good day, Malfoy."

Draco growled as the Gryffindor walked away from the table, "Is it possible to hate him more now than before?"

Daphne grinned after the Gryffindor boy, "It is possible, but I don't think you do. He wasn't lying when he said he was a hat-stall though, that sneaky little shit."

"What did my mother say to you in Aunt Dromeda's letter?"

Harry had to fight to contain his smirk. They had gotten about 10 minutes into double potions, and then Draco had asked Harry the question he knew had been burning in his mind.

"Nothing really," Harry chuckled, "I was just winding you up. It literally just said, "Dear Harry, Andromeda has told me about how doting you are on Teddy. We thought you would like to know that he has been trying very hard to say your name this week. I have contained the memories; Dromeda assures me you have a pensieve." That was all."

"So it had nothing to do with me?" Draco asked with a sigh of relief.

"Nope, neither of them mentioned you," Harry replied as he began to dice some disgusting spleen looking thing.

"You're dicing it too big," Draco said offhandedly, "The pieces needed to be smaller and more even."

"Right," Harry said, "Thanks, Malfoy."

"You don't actually hate me, do you?" Draco asked the Gryffindor, "You only slag me off because you find it fun."

"You are easy to wind up," Harry grinned, "And it adds some excitement to my day."

Draco rolled his eyes, and Harry was sure he saw the blond smile slightly as he said, "You seriously need a girlfriend, Potter."

"So do you Malfoy," Harry retorted, "After all, I heard your passionate defence of Muggle-borns this morning."

"You heard that?" Draco muttered.

"Half the hall heard it," Harry snorted, "Who is she then?"

"What?" Draco asked sharply.

"The Muggle-born you were defending," Harry said pointedly, "Who is she?"

"Nobody," Draco remarked irritably, "I don't like Muggle-borns. I don't like anyone. My girlfriend died earlier this year. You got it, Potter?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Whatever, Malfoy," he said, and they fell back into a comfortable silence as they focused on their potions.

For the next week, things carried on in a similar vein. Not much had instantly changed since returning for the eighth year. Harry and Draco talked minimally in the classes that they shared and were forced to sit next to each other in. Draco gave Harry the odd tip in Potions, but they never talked about much beyond that apart from about their shared links in Andromeda, Narcissa and Teddy.

On Monday evening, Hermione walked into the common room, muttering angrily to herself.

"Mad at the books again?" Ron joked.

"No," Hermione said irritably as she slammed a book on the table and sat down next to the two boys.

"What could possibly happen to you in the library to piss you off this much?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Draco Malfoy," Hermione muttered, "I honestly do not understand what he gets out of annoying me. I swear since we got back this year, I've done nothing but try and be nice to him, and all I get is insults about my hair and the fact I'm a know-it-all. He brushes off every nice thing I try and do!"

"Get the hint and stop trying to be nice then," Ron retorted, "Don't waste your time on him."

"He's pretty closed off," Harry agreed, "And he does the same with me, although not to the same extent. He has pretty much insulted you every time you've so much as walked past him."

"Hey, totally don't mean to intrude, but you guys talk quite loud," Susan said from where she was sitting a few seats along, "Have you considered that maybe he has a thing for you?"

Hermione shook her head, "No, little boys pulling on little girl's pigtails because they like them is one thing. But then there's being a dickhead because you really are just a dickhead."

Ron's eyes widened, "When did you start swearing?"

"Contrary to what you and half the population of this school seem to believe, I'm not an angel Ronald!" Hermione snapped as she got to her feet and stalked off to the other side of the room.

"I dunno, she swore plenty during the war, Ron," Harry pointed out.

"Oh," Ron made a face, "Harry!"

Harry's cheeks flushed, "I didn't mean like that! But now you mention it-"

"Mate, I know it happened," Ron cut in, "But I don't want the gory details."

"Well," Susan smirked, "It really is the quiet ones. Didn't you have a girlfriend, Harry?"

Harry snorted, "Oh come on, Susan, you know all about what my girlfriend was doing with Neville while I was away."

"Me and the rest of the DA, it's not like she was quiet," Susan retorted.

"Guys!" Ron exclaimed, "That's my sister you're talking about."

Harry hid an amused smile at Ron's expense.

At that point, the door to the common room opened, and Draco sauntered in. Harry couldn't get over the fact that the Slytherin still strutted around the school like he owned it despite everything that had happened. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him but didn't say anything as he walked over to her and dropped a textbook into her lap.

"You left your book in the library, Granger," Draco drawled.

"Thanks," Hermione said simply.

Draco shrugged, "Whatever, see you around Granger," he said as he walked away.

"That was very civil," Lilly murmured from behind Hermione.

"Yes, well, it's a change from normal," Hermione muttered.

"Do you think he likes you?"

"No, I do not," Hermione said calmly, "And I do not like him.

Lilly raised an eyebrow at her, "O-kaaaay."

* ~ TBC ~ *