Harry groaned quietly under his breath as he stared down at the common lizard sitting glumly on his desk. It was definitely still a lizard, despite the lengthened neck and tail - but if he squinted, the scales did look broader and smoother…
He shot a look over at Hermione on his left, and scowled. Ron saw where he was looking and nudged Harry, leaning over to whisper in his ear.
"She missed a whole year of school too - I don't know how she isn't just as behind as we are!"
Hermione smiled contentedly down at the snake on her desk, it's vibrant green scales perfectly even and smooth. It flicked its tongue out happily and hissed a hello to Hermione, who had turned to Ron.
"Because I made sure to pick up a book this summer Ron, and as ever, you did not." She looked pointedly at the vibrant purple lizard on Ron's desk, and the red-head turned back to his own school work, muttering something about trying to at least get the colour right. The purple lizard on his desk licked its eye, uninterested in the fact that its scales were going through the colour spectrum with every wave of Ron's wand.
Harry huffed a laugh at Ron's increasingly frustrated cussing, and cracked his neck before he looked back down at his own lizard. Maybe it was his pronunciation?
"Hermione, am I saying this right?" Harry asked, before turning back and waving his wand down the length of the lizard as he spoke the incantation.
"Lacerta recensere nathair"
Hermione nodded but reached out and corrected his grip. "You're too tense in the wrist – it needs to be a smooth motion, not a jerking one. Try now."
Harry cast the spell again and was pleased to see the lizard's legs shrinking inwards and the scales smoothing out, broadening and changing colour as the reptile transformed. In a few seconds Harry had a snake curled up on his desk, looking rather dazed. His wasn't as dainty as Hermione's, and it was a duller green, but Harry sat back in his chair with a grin, pleased with the result all the same.
"Thanks 'Mione," he said, and she smiled at him before turning back to her snake, which she was turning different colours with lazy swishes of her wand. Ron was scowling at her, his lizard now changing sporadically between purple and orange on its own.
"Strange scales," the snake on Harry's desk hissed, and he looked around to make sure everyone was busy with their work before leaning down and hissing gently back.
"Yes – don't worry, I won't turn you a different colour."
The snake jolted in surprise and turned its small green head away from looking at its neighbour to stare up at Harry.
"Ah, most interesting. A Speaker. Tell me, large one – how did I come here?"
Harry gaped down at the snake and stuttered.
"I- I made you. Well. I changed you. You were a lizard, before."
The snake hissed derisively.
"Legged one? I think not."
Harry jumped slightly as a hand came to rest on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Professor McGonagall peering down at him curiously.
"Well, I hadn't considered this – this is an interesting opportunity, Mr Potter. Would you mind interpreting?" she gestured to the snake and Harry shook his head.
"No, that's fine – I mean. He doesn't seem to remember being a lizard. He wants to know how he got here."
McGonagall hummed and turned to observe the snake, waving her wand over it, a faint blue glow surrounding the reptile.
"The transformation is complete, organs as well as superficial appearance have changed, so well done there. Your scales do need a bit of work, but over all a decent job of it. Hmm. He seems rather distressed?"
Harry turned back to the snake, who was hissing impatiently at him.
"Speaker, what is the other big one doing? Make it stop, the light tickles. And why does she smell like the hunting ones?"
"Hunting ones?" Harry asked, confused.
"Four legged ones. Fur and warmth and blood and arrogance."
Harry snickered and McGonagall raised her eyebrow.
"He wants to know why you smell like a cat." Harry chuckled and the Headmistress' lips quirked in a smile.
"Well, I don't think we have the time to teach a snake about animagi. You say he doesn't remember being a lizard - ask him what he does remember, if anything."
Harry nodded and leaned down to his snake and hissed once more.
"What do you remember?"
The snake flicked its tongue out.
"Warm. Light. New scent. Scared scent. Quick sound – bububububump. Then, strike, quick. The grass was sweet and the sun was bright and I was not hungry."
Harry looked back up at McGonagall and shrugged. "Just normal snake things, I think. Lying in the sun, the smell of the grass and I think hunting a mouse."
The Professor nodded sagely, as though this had confirmed some theory she had, and thanked Harry before moving to the front of the class.
Everyone else was still prodding at their lizards, though a few others also had a snake on their desk. Hannah Abbott had turned around and was shyly comparing her dark green snake with Hermione's vivid green one, the two discussing what factor influenced the colour. A few seats to her right, Anthony Goldstein was swearing under his breath and holding his lizard gently up by its tail – he seemed to be trying to transfigure each leg individually. Harry was about to say something when Blaise Zabini, who was sitting next to the Ravenclaw, reached over and slapped Anthony sharply on the wrist.
"Oh leave the poor bugger be, Goldstein, you're not going to manage it just because you're dangling the little wretch like a trapeze artist hanging off her boyfriend."
Anthony cackled and wiggled his eyebrows ludicrously, his blue eyes glinting mischievously.
"I'll bow to your expertise with suspiciously positioned gymnasts, Zabini. And with snakes, for that matter."
To Harry's surprise, the Slytherin grinned back at the Ravenclaw and leaned over conversationally, his voice lowered.
"As you should. But snakes? Goodness, no. Not really my area – well, not outside House Pride, anyway. If you're interested in 'snakes', you're better off talking to-"
But Harry didn't hear who Anthony should talk to, because McGonagall called for attention, and the room settled immediately. Harry cleared his throat and turned to listen to her, ignoring the prickle of curiosity that the overheard conversation had induced. It seemed his insight at breakfast was correct – it was going to be more difficult having private conversations when there were so few of them around. Any whispering or lowered voices would only draw attention, rather than avoiding it. But then, Harry supposed, maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. He always had been too curious for his own good.
McGonagall had finished collecting everyone's reptiles in – no doubt they'd be used again in another class – and Harry hurried to put away his things. As he shoved his parchment and quill in his bag, there was a jingle of coins from the very bottom and he groaned. Damn, he'd almost forgotten.
Harry scanned the room for Malfoy, half hoping that he'd already have left – but no, he was waiting in front of McGonagall's desk. Everyone else was filtering out of the classroom; Hermione and Ron were already at the door, but when they looked back Harry waved them on as he gestured to Malfoy. Ron looked between and nodded firmly, but Hermione frowned at him sternly before letting herself be dragged out of the classroom by the gangly red-head.
Harry scrabbled around in his bag for the change at the bottom, and after double checking that he'd gotten it all, moved to wait for Malfoy to finish talking to McGonagall.
"This is ridiculous, Headmistress, you honestly cannot expect-"
Malfoy's words were heated, and Harry realised almost immediately that he probably should have waited outside the classroom for the blonde.
"I can, and I do expect, Mr Malfoy." McGonagall was saying, but her eyes were caught by Harry shuffling uncomfortably behind the Slytherin and she scowled.
"Mr Potter if you are here to ask to be reassigned to a different project as well, I shall be-"
"No, I'm not, Professor!" Harry hurried to assure her, and Malfoy had turned around to glare at him. "I mean, I don't really think Malfoy should be working on the Room of Requirement, but-"
"There, you see!" Malfoy said, vindicated as he turned back to the Headmistress. "Potter doesn't think forcing us to work together is a good idea either!"
"Well, I mean – no, I don't really want to work with you, but that's not actually why I'm here." Harry felt the need to add for honesty's sake.
Malfoy snarled as he turned back around, and Harry almost took a step back.
"Don't give me that shit, Potter," he spat, ignoring McGonagall's reproachful 'Language, Mr Malfoy!'
"Why else would you be here waiting to talk to McGonagall if you weren't asking to be reassigned? It's a bit early in the year for detention, even for you!"
Harry scowled at the Slytherin and moved forward.
"I'm here to talk to you, you pretentious git," he said, reaching forward. He grabbed Malfoy's hand and slapped the coins into his palm.
"Here. You forgot your change from the train yesterday." Harry said snidely, before turning to leave the room.
"Mr Potter, a moment, if you please." McGonagall called and Harry's shoulders tensed. He knew that voice – that voice meant 'I have something to say and you're not going to like it'. He forced himself to turn around anyway and moved back to stand next to Malfoy. He didn't turn to look at the blonde, but he could see out of the corner of his eye that the Slytherin was still looking at the coins in his hand, his face carefully masked in indifference.
McGonagall waved her wand, and two seats from the front row flew out from behind their desks and skidded to a stop next to the two students.
"Have a seat," the Headmistress instructed, reaching inside her desk for the tartan patterned biscuit tin Harry had only seen once, back in his fifth year. She offered the tin and Harry took a gingernut biscuit as he sat down. Malfoy sat after a moment as well, but he ignored both the biscuit tin and Harry as he turned back to McGonagall.
"Professor, please, you know why this isn't a good idea." Malfoy asked her once more, but she was already shaking her head.
"Mr Malfoy, if you would let me explain. I understand that this will be difficult – for the both of you, yes, but especially so for you Mr Malfoy. I have taken into consideration that this will be hard for you – working where Mr Crabbe passed away. But we all knew someone who died in the battle. We all must face the places where they fell, every day. You are no different."
Malfoy was sitting ramrod straight, pointedly ignoring Harry sitting beside him. His face was impassive, blank, and it made Harry shiver a little. The Slytherin was withdrawing, right before Harry's eyes. He wondered how McGonagall couldn't see it.
"Professor, Malfoy's right – surely you can find someone else to work with me, or put us both on another project."
McGonagall was looking between the two of them, her eyes apologetic behind their frames.
"No, I'm sorry, but this is the best option. Mr Malfoy has spent more time in the Come and Go Room than anyone else I'm aware of. The only other person I can think of who had spent as much time there was-" McGonagall winced minutely at her slip, but continued on regardless. "Professor Dumbledore, and to be honest I think he spent most of his time there either swimming or muggle ten-pin bowling. Mr Malfoy knows how the room works." She turned to address the Slytherin, her voice quiet but earnest. "You understand that room, Draco, better than most. And that is why it must be you to fix it."
"And assigning Potter to work with me?" Malfoy asked blandly, his voice even and empty.
"That, I confess, is just an old woman's meddling. I hope that over the course of this year you will be able to put aside your differences and your past and just… get along."
The Headmistress sat back in her chair and looked between the two boys she had watched grow up. Too fast, it seemed, they had become men. It was unfair, perhaps, for her to expect them to act like it – now that they finally had their last chance at a childhood. But ask, she must.
"You both underestimate how your rivalry influences this school. Especially now that you are seniors – what you do and say will be emulated by the younger students. I am trying," McGonagall stressed, "to bring about an age of House unity here at Hogwarts. If your fellow students see the two of you working together, accomplishing something, together… the message it would send could help change this school for the better – and perhaps even the Wizarding World, beyond that."
Harry frowned as he nibbled on his biscuit. He had suspected as much, and though he wasn't exactly pleased it was clear that Malfoy had reached his limit.
"Wonderful," the Slytherin spat. "So we are to be your little project. Shall Potter and I shall run around the castle holding hands until your master plan is fulfilled? Do you know, Headmistress," Malfoy sat forward and smiled sharply at her, all teeth and cold eyes, "You've picked the perfect candidates. Potter here will bend over backwards to do whatever he can to help – hell, to help anyone – and me? Well, as we all know, I've had extensive practice at being someone's puppet. What's one more to the list?"
Malfoy stood up and grabbed his satchel, swinging it over his shoulder as he walked out of the room, turning around in the doorway and giving Harry a smile that made both the Gryffindors flinch.
"Shall we meet during free period on Wednesday? How about in the Library? That should be public enough," the Slytherin spat, his grey eyes burning with rage. Malfoy slammed the classroom door behind him, and McGonagall and Harry sat in stunned silence, staring after him.
Eventually, Professor McGonagall sighed noisily and took off her square framed glasses, tapping each lens with her wand to clean it. Harry sat in silence, unsure whether or not he should go, or if he should try to reassure the Headmistress.
"Well?" she asked after a few moments, spreading her hands. "What do you think?"
"Pardon?" Harry asked, unsure what he was being asked.
"I have explained why I want Mr Malfoy working on this project, but I haven't really explained why I want you there."
Harry frowned. "I thought you wanted me and Malfoy to – I don't know, be friends or something. Be an example of inter-house cooperation."
McGonagall hummed in agreement.
"Well, yes – but that could have been done without having you and Draco work together. No, Harry, I'm afraid I'm asking for more than that."
She gestured at the door, her sharp eyes concerned.
"I wonder, did that... reaction, did that remind you of anyone?"
Harry frowned and shrugged.
"Not really. I mean, I guess right after Sirius died I- oh."
The Headmistress nodded.
"Exactly. Harry, you know better than anyone what grief is like. You have had more than your share of it, and if I may say so, you have come out of it all incredibly well, considering your circumstances." She smiled fondly at him, her usually shrewd gaze gentled as she looked across her desk at the scrawny young man before her. "I'm sure you've heard it before, but Harry – you've grown into a wonderful young man, and I know your parents would be so, so proud of you. Not just of what you've achieved, but of who you are. I know I am."
Harry flushed, and coughed a little to clear his throat, which had grown strangely tight all of a sudden.
"Um. Thank you, Professor. Thanks. That means a lot."
McGonagall nodded sharply, apparently a bit embarrassed, and offered him another biscuit. Harry took it, glad to have something to occupy himself with.
"But," the Headmistress continued after a moment, "it is because of your experiences, and because of who you are that I am asking you for help. Mr Malfoy was right, no matter how crudely he might have put it. You help people, Harry. It's just who you are."
McGonagall looked over Harry's shoulder at the closed door where Malfoy had disappeared. "And I think Mr Malfoy needs our help. I received a letter from Narcissa Malfoy last week. She is worried about her son, and from what little I have seen of Mr Malfoy this year, I can't say her concerns are unfounded. This is why I've assigned you to work alongside Draco," she turned to meet Harry's eye. "Keep an eye on him. I know you two have a past, and I am not truly even expecting you to befriend him. But if Draco sees that even his childhood enemy cares about his wellbeing, then he might start to care for himself as well."
"He'll think I pity him." Harry said, though he could see what McGonagall was aiming for.
"Then you'll have to convince him otherwise." McGonagall said primly, and somewhere in the distance, the bell from the clock tower chimed the hour, signalling the end of the morning tea break. Harry excused himself, and as he ran to his next class he snorted to himself.
No doubt this entire endeavour would end badly, but annoyingly enough, McGonagall and Malfoy were right. He wanted to help, anyway. Or at least, he was going to try.
Damn, Harry thought tiredly. So much for a simple year.