Disclaimer: Nope. Still own nothing.

Chapter 2

It was a little known fact about Slytherin House that Professor Snape, after about a year of suffering late fools, had installed an alarm system which would (and frequently did) wake the dead.

At five am.

Every weekday morning.

On weekends they got to lay in until a luxurious six am.

Harry awoke to the squealing, high pitched sound with a heart that beat like a crazed drummer who'd forgotten his antipsychotics and the knife which had rested beneath his pillow drawn and aimed at the imaginary foe.

Yeah. That always took some getting used to.

Well. Unless you were Draco Malfoy- that boy could sleep through anything. And he was mean when he woke up, so it always fell to Harry to wake him up.

So with a cat-like stretch and a soundless yawn, Harry got up and padded towards the door on his bare feet and bare chested.

Waking up Draco was an art.

First things first, you needed caffeine- and lots of it. Most mornings it took an entire pot to get Draco up, presentable and present at the breakfast table.

That's why one of the first things they had done when they'd gotten to pick the furnishings of their year common room was get two magical coffee makers. One they labeled as Draco's, and another one was for the rest of them.

Because facing the day without caffeine was like facing a dragon with a toothpick- possible, but ugly and foolhardy even at the best of times.

And so Harry slumped a little in relief that the house elves had had the sense to turn on the percolator.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee beckoned people from their rooms, the girls giggling a little at the sight of his bare, tattooed chest.

Still, Harry got the carafe of coffee and headed for Draco's room. He didn't bother with knocking since it would fall on deaf ears.

Merlin help the little Firstie who tried to rouse Draco because their friend was coughing up blood or something.

Once again Harry grinned at the picture the Prince of Slytherin made when he was asleep- all awkward angles and elbows in the little nest of his comforter and blanket (because Draco hated the cold, and he always seemed to be cold, something about Veela blood or somesuch). His blonde hair, normally so carefully coifed, stood up in all directions and his head hung off the end of the bed emitting little snores and a teensy bit of drool.

Yep, he was a symbol of style and poise when he was awake.

Asleep- not so much.

Harry deposited the caffeine on the bedside table, before calmly ripping the blankets off the other boy in one fell swoop.

This earned him a missed swat at his legs and a "Mmmmmmph!".

Next he sat down on the bed, finding his balance before he began bouncing on it.

This earned him a "Gerroff!".

After about five minutes of bouncing, Harry poked him. In the side.

The tender flesh of his side.

An angry snarl of wordless rage.

Poke.

Poke.

Poke.

Poke.

"WHAT?" Draco exploded at him in rage, sitting up in bed.

The trick was to keep him in the upright position, and keep feeding him caffeine until he could be brought into a standing position and shoved in the direction of the showers.

It was all easier said than done, but by five-thirty Harry was finally able to drag him into the showers.

Stepping under the spray of the showers was pure bliss, and Harry could feel his muscles unwinding under the warm caress of the water running down his body. Harry let out a small sigh of pure unadulterated pleasure.

By the time he was clean, however it was time to reach into Draco's shower and yank him out of it. Hand him a towel to dry himself and then shove him in front of the mirror. Draco's vanity would automatically activate, even when he was insensate, and then it would just be watching him to make sure he didn't do something stupid like put on make up.

It had happened once in third year when Harry had forgotten about him in his haste to get to breakfast.

It had scarred them all into extra vigilance.

Teeth brushed, hair done, clothed in school uniforms the two emerged into the general common room at quarter to six. Pansy had already scared most of the firsties through their morning routine and was now organizing the younger years into neat, freshly pressed Slytherin glory. Seeing Draco ready to go (even if it was Harry steering him and propping him up) she promptly clapped her hands and ushered them all out into the dungeon corridors.

Harry heard the unhappy grumble of the Firsties- they felt that having to go up as one group so early in the morning was a complete waste, nothing short of cruel really.

The older Slytherins knew better.

It was a lot harder to pick on a large group than it was to pick on an individual scurrying late to a meal. And the early start not only allowed those who didn't do mornings well (*cough*Draco*cough) the time to start waking up mentally before the school day started, but also allowed them to watch the rest of the school come filtering in, getting a good feeling of what mood permeated the school that day.

It was an essential thing part of the Slytherin Strategy.

When Professor Snape whirled into the Great Hall at six, his Slytherins were waiting for him. Professor Snape inclined his head at them, and made a silent clapping gesture.

Harry grinned from where he was feeding Draco broccoli (the only time they could get it into him, something Narcissa had begged them to continue at school).

Okay.

Maybe school wasn't that bad.

HP-BaB-HP

By the time that the last period of the day- Arithmancy, thank Merlin- had rolled around, Harry had reassessed his thoughts that morning.

Longbottom had been insufferable. Weasley had been brain dead. They'd both nearly killed the entire bloody class with their childish shenanigans in potions... And then Snape had confiscated his charmed earring for 'safety reasons'.

What a weird reason to confiscate an earring.

It was charmed with a pretty powerful protection charm- so really it was a safety precaution. And he didn't care if the girls had all giggled at him for wearing jewellery, it had taken a lot of work and already saved his life once that summer.

Stupid giggling gaggle of girls.

He was pretty sure Snape would never have noticed it otherwise.

No.

School was alright.

It was the dickheads in it that ruined the experience.

He slunk into the classroom and promptly sat at the desk in 'his' desk. Right in front of Professor Vector's desk.

There was no hiding in a class of seven people.

Blaise followed a short while later, with the four Ravenclaws entering in a little gaggle of their own already discussing the possible work for this year.

Finally Hermione made it into the classroom just as Professor Vector did.

The professor smiled at Hermione, before setting the load of books that she had been carrying down on her desk. Her short blonde curls were filled with chalk dust already, and there were other parts of her teaching robes that also bore the marks of chalk.

"Well, hello everyone, welcome to a new year." She gave them all a bright smile that made her blue eyes crinkle. "Now, first things first... Yep. You're all here."

Hermione, who had finally gotten all of her books out of her bag and was now trying to get all of her inks and quills out, looked up smilingly into her favourite teacher's face.

"Okay! So, about this year. It's going to work a little bit differently from your previous years in that we'll be having five periods in a week. The first four are normal class times, with the normal testing procedures."

Harry thunked his head onto the table. The normal testing procedures meant that at the end of the first double period of the week they would write a short quizz on what they had done in class that day, whereas the last two would end in a short ten mark quizz on what they had done the previous two periods.

It wasn't that he was lazy...

Okay. No. He was lazy.

He was a teenage boy though- they were all bloody lazy. And writing two tests every week was just cruel.

Professor Vector gave his head an absent minded pat. "There, there Harry. I hate tests too- but the great news is that the fifth period- the one we're in right now- will be your designated Research Period!"

A questioning glance at Hermione at his right side and one at Blaise revealed they had no more clue about this than he had.

"You see, in your OWLs you will not only be judged on your written paper but also on a research project of your choosing. This will be due one week before your OWLs will be written and will be graded as follows:-"

Vector waved a hand at the board and a written version of the grading plan appeared on the board.

"You can write that down, it's pretty self explanatory. Here are your study guides for the year. It explains pretty much the rest, and allows you to prepare for class... There you go Li, take that one. Right now- your research projects.

You are to run your topic past me, and then I will guide you in the research and final writing of your paper. You have eight months to get this right, and those who mark your research papers will be expecting you to make the most of that time period.

There you go Blaise. Now! I suggest that for today, you go look at the possible topics for your research projects, so that we can start discussing them in next week's period. Alrighty, see you in class on Friday- remember to come prepared. You never know when I might throw in a pop quizz..." This last statement was said with a little wriggle of her fingers, which made most of the class chuckle a bit.

Harry waited for Hermione as she struggled to get everything back into her little messenger bag. She huffed when she finally straightened up and saw the amused look on Harry's face as he leaned against his desk.

"What? This is all essential to my performance in school!"

Harry raised a disbelieving brow at her.

"It is!" She stated as they walked through the doors and toward the library. "I have two quills per period- three for history, since it's so much writing, my books for every subject- in case I have time to spare in the library. My extra books for every period- don't shake your head at me, it's going to be very useful in our research period for arithmancy! And I heard the same thing is going to count for ancient runes... Yes, I have asked Professor Babbling for our study guides already, I thought since it was just you, Su and me in the class I'd save her the trouble... speaking of which, here's yours. I'll give Su hers at dinner. Mind you, I don't know how the others think that they can do arithmancy without runes, I mean, really..."

With a roll of his eyes, Harry steered her away from the inner bowels of the castle and towards the outside grounds.

It was a sign of how deep into her conversation at him she was that she didn't notice the change in scenery until Harry gently sat her down behind the last greenhouse. She blinked twice in confusion before casting a glare at him.

"Harry! Not this again- we looked at the charts! Do you want me to get the charts? Smoking is terrible for your health- half blood or no! Oh, who am I kidding? No one ever listens to me." She said the last bit with a bit of a pout on her face.

Harry, his lit cigarette hanging from his lips, sat down next to her and gently bumped his shoulder against hers. She gave him a wan sort of smile.

"I guess I'm just kind of worried about Neville and Ron. They always seem to be getting into trouble." Another shoulder bump and she gave him a bit of a brighter smile. "Yes, I guess you're right. I mean, at least he can't get into this Triwizard Tournament. So I guess this year could be pretty calm..."

Harry smiled at her.

"Thanks Harry. Really. You've set my mind at ease." She smiled as she lay her head onto his shoulder, his head coming to rest on hers. "Hm, nice day today. We should be savouring it. Winter is coming hard and fast."

Harry hummed in agreement, and together they watched the clouds roll by.

HP-BaB-HP

Fleur Delacour grinned as she sent her opponent crashing to the floor with a body binding curse.

It had been a vicious first day back at school for all of the seventh years. They had been set to duelling with each other from that morning at eight until, now, it was just Fleur and Henrie left standing at the end of the duelling competition.

And she knew Henrie was no real match for her duelling skills.

This was it- her chance to shine. Her chance for people to see her as more than just another- okay, no more like the pretty face. She could hardly wait for this trip to England.

With an elegant swish of her wand, she stowed her wand away as she headed for the table which held the glass decanters of water and fruit juice. Henrie had a grim sort of determination on his face as Marie was talking intently to him. Undoubtedly telling him to stand strong in the face of Fleur's pure gorgeousness.

She sent a smirk in their direction.

The whispers never changed. And on the bad days, they would get to her. But they had followed her ever since she had been a child and she had gotten used to them. The quick grab of women to steer their male counterparts away from her, the drooling of men. It never really changed.

In the end, her mother had always said, it never mattered.

Even though her mother had managed to become French Minister for Magic, she never quite got away from the stigma of having Veela blood flowing through her veins.

And yet, today, Fleur was getting a little bit away from that stigma. Setting about carving her own niche in the world. Getting things done.

Her mother had never raised her daughters to sit idly by in the world, she'd always had her eyes on that Minister's spot and she'd spent most of her life working towards it. Marriage and children had come naturally with the territory, and the Delacour girls had never been raised with the idea that having a family was a goal.

Rather, a family was seen as one of the payoffs of getting out there and making your mark in the world.

With her thirst sated on the cool mineral water, Fleur turned back to the duelling room.

"Fleur, Henrie. Are you ready?" Professor Moreu asked them. They both nodded and headed for the centre of the bright and airy room.

They both bowed in true honourable fashion.

And then it was chaos.

Fleur immediately targeted Henrie with a bat bogey hex, which he managed to just dodge. There was a scraping sound as they both drew their swords.

Duels had always had a bit more bite in them than Hogwarts had managed to briefly convey in the Lockheart fiasco. That, and the fact that the Health and Safety people had though that handing a bunch of children a bunch of swords along with their wands was, well, Not Safe or Healthy had led to Harry's generation of Hogwartians to be ignorant of the true nature of a duel.

True wizarding duels were held with wands and swords in a perfect balance of physical, magical and mental.

And Beaubaxtons upheld these ideals to the fullest.

So it was that Fleur found herself dodging a spell from Henrie only to almost be scewered by his sword.

"Sloppy footwork Delacour!" Professor Monreu admonished her as she threw up a shield that would protect her from his incoming hex, even as she parried his overhead slash quickly following it up with a slash aimed at his neck.

Henrie managed to dodge the slash, but found himself dodging straight into Fleur's cutting hex. A cut opened up on his left arm and left him dodging her next slash too quickly.

By the time he realized that he had hit the floor Fleur had hit him with a body bind hex, and had put a foot firmly on his chest with her rapier aimed at his neck.

"Match to miss Delacour!" The professor announced and Fleur smiled again.

"Now, miss Delacour, that was a sloppy show of footwork. I taught you better than that! If I ever see you do such a poor job again I will personally cut you to ribbons..."

Fleur rolled her eyes.

Some people were never satisfied.

HP-BaB-HP

A/N: Wow. What can I say about this chapter?

Except that I'm sorry that my fight scene is so terrible. We'll be visiting Mr Krum in a chapter soon to come.

Hopefully the part with Draco is amusing to someone, and hopefully it gives you a bit more of an idea as to Harry's place in Slytherin.