Running a hand through his raven hair, Harry Potter pulled on some worn
jeans and shoved his feet into a pair of old trainers. He pulled and old
sleep-shirt over his head and left the Gryffindor dorm as quietly as
possible.
As he slipped past the great front doors of the castle, he noticed a Ravenclaws in the Great Hall, poring over various texts and looking quite tired. He yawned and stepped out of the great doors and onto the front lawn.
It was a gorgeous fall day. The Whomping Willow's branches swayed in the distance, and all around him, leaves were falling from the trees. Harry walked towards his favorite tree near the lake, but as he approached he noticed the shadow of a slim figure protruding from the tree. Silver-blonde hair was flayed across the trunk of Harry's tree.
Draco Malfoy was leaning lazily against the trunk, his chin against his chest, arms resting peacefully in his lap. Without his sneer, Malfoy didn't look anything like the foul little ferret Harry had been acquainted with. Malfoy was by no means an angel, and sitting in the chilly autumn wind, he looked like a human being for the first time. Harry sat down on the opposite side of the tree.
"Good morning, isn't it, Potter? I suppose you've come to claim your tree."
"Uhm. Yeah."
"I'll just be finishing my nap, then."
Harry was befuddled. Draco Malfoy, huge git extraordinaire had been civil to him for the first time since they were eleven.
Harry leaned his head against the rough bark and pulled his knees to his chest. He rested his head in the crook of his legs sighed as the wind rustled the leaves above him.
After their fifth year, Draco had been incensed at Harry, but they had hardly taken a good look at each other. Harry knew better than to overstep his bounds with Draco. Lucius Malfoy was under great scrutiny after the battle at the Ministry, and he couldn't risk provoking Draco over it. They would sometimes snip at each other in the hall and curses would sometimes fly, but that had been the extent of it. Harry sometimes missed the old days of their squabbles and his own days of total assurance and boyish foolhardiness, but now in his sixth year, those attributes were greatly dwindling.
Harry was left with the heavy weight of Voldemort's demise on his shoulder, and this put quite a damper on everything else, to say the least. Harry often wished he could stay forever young at Hogwarts, but with Voldemort still at large, there was no way for him to shun his responsibilities as savior of the wizarding world, especially now that the Prophecy had been brought to light.
It was so quiet that Harry could hear the grass swaying in the wind. He ran his fingers along his jeans. Mixed with the chill of the air, he felt a shiver run down his spine. He'd forgotten outerwear in the dormitory.
"Malfoy, d'you have a jacket?"
"Does it look like I do?"
Harry didn't answer, but he ventured another question. "How come we don't fight any more?"
"Does it matter?"
"Not really," Harry answered truthfully.
"I suppose we've grown up," Draco sighed, "At least one of us has," he added as an afterthought.
Harry snorted. Perhaps they had grown up. Harry got up from his spot on the ground, "I'll see you, Malfoy. I have things to see and people to do."
"People to do, Potter? I never thought you the type," Draco smirked and rested his chin on his chest once again, sleep reclaiming him.
Harry yawned as he entered Greenhouse Four an hour later. He wiped his mouth idly with the back of his palm and sat at a stool on the left of the table. He was one of the first students there, along with Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson. Slowly, tired students from Slytherin and Gryffindor trickled into the stuffy greenhouse and took seats near their friends. Harry waved to Hermione and Ron as they entered and offered them the seats next to him. Draco entered soon after, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. Draco dismissed his cronies as he took a seat across from Harry, not saying a word until Professor Sprout entered and asked the first question.
"What are the properties of the black violet?" A few students looked bewildered. Harry himself wasn't quite sure about the question. Hermione mumbled to him about the fact that violets got their name from their color and there was no purpose in having black violets.
"Trick question, Professor. Black violets are an indigenous species to Great Britain, but they are indigenous because of the local muggle chemists who created them. The properties are the same as that of the purple violet, but the black violet is used in exceptionally potent aphrodisiacs," said Malfoy smugly, grinning maliciously at Hermione when he finished.
"Very good, Mr. Malfoy! Ten points to Slytherin! Indeed class, the black violet is a genetically engineered, non-magical, species whose use was generally unknown until very recently, when your own Potions professor discovered its application."
Seamus snorted and covered his mouth, allowing Professor Sprout to continue, "We will only be repotting these black violets because of their delicate nature. There will be no use for them at this school." Seamus burst into gales of laughter.
"Mr. Finnigan! Is there a problem? I had hoped my sixth years would be mature enough to handle these plants, but that doesn't appear to be the case!"
Seamus shook his head and wiped his eyes, burying his head in Dean's shoulder in a pathetic attempt to smother his laughter. This only served to make Dean laugh and soon most of the class was in hysterics. Harry rolled his eyes at Malfoy who nodded his head and cocked an eyebrow. Professor Sprout called the class back to order and continued her lecture on the other uses of black violets.
She explained how careful the process of repotting the fragile plants was and set the class to work. After Herbology, the Gryffindors and Slytherins headed to Potions. Snape jeered unpleasantly at Harry as he entered. The Gryffindors took their seats near the back of the room and began chatting before class started.
"Today," Snape began, effectively hushing all of the students. "We will be studying a very powerful aphrodisiac. I believe you repotted black violets this morning in Herbology and I would like to elaborate on their uses."
Once again, Seamus appeared ready to burst into laughter, but Snape glared at him mid-breath and Seamus looked more like he was going to be sick.
"I will be splitting you into pairs so you will not louse around with your housemates."
Everyone groaned. Whenever Snape paired them, they ended up with their least favorite person from the other house. Harry wasn't dreading inevitably being partnered with Malfoy.
"Weasley, Goyle."
"Granger, Bullstrode."
"Finnigan, Crabbe."
"Potter, Malfoy."
Harry moved his things from the table in the back up to Draco's in the front right of the room. Harry didn't listen to the rest of the pairings, but unpacked his quill and leaned back in his chair next to Malfoy.
"So it's you and me again, Potter. The way Snape pairs us it's like he expects us to save the world together."
Harry shrugged, "It could happen."
Draco scowled and opened his book to the required page. "You go get the ingredients. I'll read the instructions."
Harry did as he was told, walking quietly over to the ingredient cabinet. He deftly picked out bottles and jars of various foul items and brought them back to the table. He made a second trip for the insects and plants involved. Harry opened his own book and read the preparation of ingredients.
"Malfoy, I'll chop all these scarabs and you can deflower the violet."
"That's right up my alley," said Draco, smirking, as he fondled the black violet, "Right up my alley," he muttered again.
Watching Draco caress the delicate petals of the violet was arousing Harry. He blushed slightly and shifted to accommodate his problem. He set to the tedious task of finely chopping scarabs and soon he had forgotten all about the black violet.
At the end of class, Harry and Draco had brewed the only successful potion. Snape muttered words of praise to Draco and conveniently ignored Harry as he walked along the isles, inspecting the potions. Hermione and Millicent had come close, but at the last minute, Millicent had scared Hermione into dropping a quill into the cauldron. Luckily, the only reaction from the potion was a pungent smell that made half of the class sneeze violently for a few minutes.
"Glad you didn't botch it, Potter," said Malfoy as he strode confidently out of the room, leaving Harry amongst his papers and a cauldron full of a very strong aphrodisiac. Harry grimaced and picked up his books, shoving them into the bag under his chair.
He caught up with Hermione and Ron as she was leaving and they walked to lunch together. Having finished his last class after lunch, Harry was free to do what he pleased for the rest of the afternoon. He played a game of wizard's chess with Ron, studied History of Magic with Hermione and had time left to play exploding snap with Seamus. He had at least an hour before supper and left Gryffindor Tower to sit on the front lawns under his favorite tree.
He was mildly disappointed when he approached the tree and no one was napping in its shade. He sat down in the same place he had been earlier in the morning and leaned his head against the bark. A light, dreamless sleep quickly engulfed him. Much later, he was awoken by a presence next to him. Sitting almost too close for comfort was Draco. Harry didn't say a word
"I know you're awake, Potter."
"Why are you here?"
"Can't friends share a tree for a nap?"
"We're not friends, Malfoy."
"Touché."
Harry had just closed his eyes when he felt a weight on his shoulder. Soft locks of hair tickled his neck and sent shivers racing down his spine. The sound of heavy breathing reached his ear and Harry realized that Draco had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Harry thought he should have the urge to move, thought it more appropriate to pull Draco closer. Draco muttered angrily in his sleep when Harry put his arms around the blonde, but Draco made no moves to stop him. Harry leaned his head on top of Draco's and was once again consumed by sleep.
As he slipped past the great front doors of the castle, he noticed a Ravenclaws in the Great Hall, poring over various texts and looking quite tired. He yawned and stepped out of the great doors and onto the front lawn.
It was a gorgeous fall day. The Whomping Willow's branches swayed in the distance, and all around him, leaves were falling from the trees. Harry walked towards his favorite tree near the lake, but as he approached he noticed the shadow of a slim figure protruding from the tree. Silver-blonde hair was flayed across the trunk of Harry's tree.
Draco Malfoy was leaning lazily against the trunk, his chin against his chest, arms resting peacefully in his lap. Without his sneer, Malfoy didn't look anything like the foul little ferret Harry had been acquainted with. Malfoy was by no means an angel, and sitting in the chilly autumn wind, he looked like a human being for the first time. Harry sat down on the opposite side of the tree.
"Good morning, isn't it, Potter? I suppose you've come to claim your tree."
"Uhm. Yeah."
"I'll just be finishing my nap, then."
Harry was befuddled. Draco Malfoy, huge git extraordinaire had been civil to him for the first time since they were eleven.
Harry leaned his head against the rough bark and pulled his knees to his chest. He rested his head in the crook of his legs sighed as the wind rustled the leaves above him.
After their fifth year, Draco had been incensed at Harry, but they had hardly taken a good look at each other. Harry knew better than to overstep his bounds with Draco. Lucius Malfoy was under great scrutiny after the battle at the Ministry, and he couldn't risk provoking Draco over it. They would sometimes snip at each other in the hall and curses would sometimes fly, but that had been the extent of it. Harry sometimes missed the old days of their squabbles and his own days of total assurance and boyish foolhardiness, but now in his sixth year, those attributes were greatly dwindling.
Harry was left with the heavy weight of Voldemort's demise on his shoulder, and this put quite a damper on everything else, to say the least. Harry often wished he could stay forever young at Hogwarts, but with Voldemort still at large, there was no way for him to shun his responsibilities as savior of the wizarding world, especially now that the Prophecy had been brought to light.
It was so quiet that Harry could hear the grass swaying in the wind. He ran his fingers along his jeans. Mixed with the chill of the air, he felt a shiver run down his spine. He'd forgotten outerwear in the dormitory.
"Malfoy, d'you have a jacket?"
"Does it look like I do?"
Harry didn't answer, but he ventured another question. "How come we don't fight any more?"
"Does it matter?"
"Not really," Harry answered truthfully.
"I suppose we've grown up," Draco sighed, "At least one of us has," he added as an afterthought.
Harry snorted. Perhaps they had grown up. Harry got up from his spot on the ground, "I'll see you, Malfoy. I have things to see and people to do."
"People to do, Potter? I never thought you the type," Draco smirked and rested his chin on his chest once again, sleep reclaiming him.
Harry yawned as he entered Greenhouse Four an hour later. He wiped his mouth idly with the back of his palm and sat at a stool on the left of the table. He was one of the first students there, along with Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson. Slowly, tired students from Slytherin and Gryffindor trickled into the stuffy greenhouse and took seats near their friends. Harry waved to Hermione and Ron as they entered and offered them the seats next to him. Draco entered soon after, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. Draco dismissed his cronies as he took a seat across from Harry, not saying a word until Professor Sprout entered and asked the first question.
"What are the properties of the black violet?" A few students looked bewildered. Harry himself wasn't quite sure about the question. Hermione mumbled to him about the fact that violets got their name from their color and there was no purpose in having black violets.
"Trick question, Professor. Black violets are an indigenous species to Great Britain, but they are indigenous because of the local muggle chemists who created them. The properties are the same as that of the purple violet, but the black violet is used in exceptionally potent aphrodisiacs," said Malfoy smugly, grinning maliciously at Hermione when he finished.
"Very good, Mr. Malfoy! Ten points to Slytherin! Indeed class, the black violet is a genetically engineered, non-magical, species whose use was generally unknown until very recently, when your own Potions professor discovered its application."
Seamus snorted and covered his mouth, allowing Professor Sprout to continue, "We will only be repotting these black violets because of their delicate nature. There will be no use for them at this school." Seamus burst into gales of laughter.
"Mr. Finnigan! Is there a problem? I had hoped my sixth years would be mature enough to handle these plants, but that doesn't appear to be the case!"
Seamus shook his head and wiped his eyes, burying his head in Dean's shoulder in a pathetic attempt to smother his laughter. This only served to make Dean laugh and soon most of the class was in hysterics. Harry rolled his eyes at Malfoy who nodded his head and cocked an eyebrow. Professor Sprout called the class back to order and continued her lecture on the other uses of black violets.
She explained how careful the process of repotting the fragile plants was and set the class to work. After Herbology, the Gryffindors and Slytherins headed to Potions. Snape jeered unpleasantly at Harry as he entered. The Gryffindors took their seats near the back of the room and began chatting before class started.
"Today," Snape began, effectively hushing all of the students. "We will be studying a very powerful aphrodisiac. I believe you repotted black violets this morning in Herbology and I would like to elaborate on their uses."
Once again, Seamus appeared ready to burst into laughter, but Snape glared at him mid-breath and Seamus looked more like he was going to be sick.
"I will be splitting you into pairs so you will not louse around with your housemates."
Everyone groaned. Whenever Snape paired them, they ended up with their least favorite person from the other house. Harry wasn't dreading inevitably being partnered with Malfoy.
"Weasley, Goyle."
"Granger, Bullstrode."
"Finnigan, Crabbe."
"Potter, Malfoy."
Harry moved his things from the table in the back up to Draco's in the front right of the room. Harry didn't listen to the rest of the pairings, but unpacked his quill and leaned back in his chair next to Malfoy.
"So it's you and me again, Potter. The way Snape pairs us it's like he expects us to save the world together."
Harry shrugged, "It could happen."
Draco scowled and opened his book to the required page. "You go get the ingredients. I'll read the instructions."
Harry did as he was told, walking quietly over to the ingredient cabinet. He deftly picked out bottles and jars of various foul items and brought them back to the table. He made a second trip for the insects and plants involved. Harry opened his own book and read the preparation of ingredients.
"Malfoy, I'll chop all these scarabs and you can deflower the violet."
"That's right up my alley," said Draco, smirking, as he fondled the black violet, "Right up my alley," he muttered again.
Watching Draco caress the delicate petals of the violet was arousing Harry. He blushed slightly and shifted to accommodate his problem. He set to the tedious task of finely chopping scarabs and soon he had forgotten all about the black violet.
At the end of class, Harry and Draco had brewed the only successful potion. Snape muttered words of praise to Draco and conveniently ignored Harry as he walked along the isles, inspecting the potions. Hermione and Millicent had come close, but at the last minute, Millicent had scared Hermione into dropping a quill into the cauldron. Luckily, the only reaction from the potion was a pungent smell that made half of the class sneeze violently for a few minutes.
"Glad you didn't botch it, Potter," said Malfoy as he strode confidently out of the room, leaving Harry amongst his papers and a cauldron full of a very strong aphrodisiac. Harry grimaced and picked up his books, shoving them into the bag under his chair.
He caught up with Hermione and Ron as she was leaving and they walked to lunch together. Having finished his last class after lunch, Harry was free to do what he pleased for the rest of the afternoon. He played a game of wizard's chess with Ron, studied History of Magic with Hermione and had time left to play exploding snap with Seamus. He had at least an hour before supper and left Gryffindor Tower to sit on the front lawns under his favorite tree.
He was mildly disappointed when he approached the tree and no one was napping in its shade. He sat down in the same place he had been earlier in the morning and leaned his head against the bark. A light, dreamless sleep quickly engulfed him. Much later, he was awoken by a presence next to him. Sitting almost too close for comfort was Draco. Harry didn't say a word
"I know you're awake, Potter."
"Why are you here?"
"Can't friends share a tree for a nap?"
"We're not friends, Malfoy."
"Touché."
Harry had just closed his eyes when he felt a weight on his shoulder. Soft locks of hair tickled his neck and sent shivers racing down his spine. The sound of heavy breathing reached his ear and Harry realized that Draco had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Harry thought he should have the urge to move, thought it more appropriate to pull Draco closer. Draco muttered angrily in his sleep when Harry put his arms around the blonde, but Draco made no moves to stop him. Harry leaned his head on top of Draco's and was once again consumed by sleep.