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"Why did you even write that essay in the first place if you never planned on taking Transfigurations?"

This question had been bothering Tigris for a while. Draco laughed.

"I didn't want to argue about it with Father. He considers Transfigurations incredibly important but I can't stand McGonagall. I couldn't have taken two more years with her. Luckily, he was too busy to ask us what classes we wanted to take. This whole time I've been worried he'd remember, but he didn't. Thank Merlin."

"Won't he be angry that you aren't taking it?" Asked Tigris, concerned.

Draco shrugged. "It's set in stone now. He'll have to live with it."

Tigris studied his brother with raised eyebrows, but didn't pursue the subject further. Draco must really despise McGonagall. Tigris wondered why. Sure, she didn't like Slytherins, but she was nowhere near as unfair as Snape.

Which reminded Tigris that they had Potions class that day. Suddenly, his stomach twisted. He had read all the books from the first shelf in the small library, but still felt as unsure as a first-year.

"Good day, students. Since this is a NEWT class, I hope you'll show a bit more potential than what I usually find in this school. I especially hope that you'll surpass the other class which contains a few truly pitiful individuals."

The door flew shut with a wave from Snape's wand after he rushed inside. Tigris flinched instinctively. He wasn't the only one. The Hufflepuffs were clearly regretting having chosen this class. Tigris understood them only too well. Draco just grinned next to him.

Snape suddenly turned around to him. "Mister Malfoy. Which plant is a crucial ingredient for transformation potions related to aquatic animals?"

Tigris stared at him and suddenly his head was completely empty. His heart felt like it was beating twice as fast as usual.

"Surely, you've read your book, haven't you, Mister Malfoy?"

"O-of course, Sir," stuttered Tigris. His hand curled into a fist. He knew the answer. He had read about it just yesterday. It was an easy question. But he simply couldn't remember. It was like his mind had frozen.

Snape frowned but turned away. "Do you know the answer, Miss Davis?"

"Dianthuskraut," said Tracey.

"Correct. One point to Slytherin."

Tigris could have screamed from frustration. He knew this. He could have even guessed it before reading all those books. Why was it so hard for him to think while Snape stared at him? Draco sent him an incredulous look. Tigris knew what he was thinking. He himself could barely believe it.

"We'll start this year with potions that change one's appearance," said Snape. "Today, we will talk about a potion that changes your eye color. Can you tell me an important ingredient of this potion, Miss Jones?"

"Wings of scarab?" Asked the Hufflepuff, unsurely.

"If you hadn't added the question mark, you would have earned a point. Correct. Wings of scarab. Why, Mister Malfoy?"

Tigris stiffened, but luckily he was talking to Draco.

"Wings of scarab strengthen the effect of the dyeing component of the potion and stabilize the magic so that only the iris changes colors and not the entire eye."

"Very good, Mister Malfoy. Five points to Slytherin." Snape tapped his wand against the blackboard. "You'll find the recipe on page 128 of 'Advanced Potions'. It needs to be stirred for two hours, so you better get started quickly."

Tigris hastily opened his book. The potion was nowhere near as difficult as the Paternitas Draught, but at that moment it seemed incredibly complicated. He took a deep breath and attempted to sort out his feelings. After a while, he managed to calm down. He grabbed the ingredients and tried to be as meticulous as he was when brewing the Paternitas.

For a while, it went well, but then Snape began roaming the room, looking at their work. Tigris noticed that he was paying more attention to Snape's movements than his potion. Towards the end of the two hours, he knew that his potion was a failure. The color and consistency were off. When he re-read the recipe, he realized that he had forgotten about the powdered clabbert horn.

It was exactly where he had set it down at the start, right between the empty bowls that had contained the other ingredients. And all after he had made such an effort to be thorough. Tigris angrily looked up. It had been such a stupid mistake. He knew that Snape would yell at him. How couldn't he? When he looked up, he met Snape's eyes. He hadn't even noticed how the man had come to stand next to him.

To Tigris' surprise, Snape didn't say anything, instead letting his potion disappear with a simple "evanesco". Tigris stared at his empty cauldron in frustration. The fact that everyone else in his class had brewed the potion perfectly didn't exactly help improve his mood. Of course, they had earned their Os. Snape gave each of them two points, even the Hufflepuffs.

"Would you mind staying behind, Mister Malfoy?" He said once class was over. Tigris set down his bag and sighed tonelessly. He'd get kicked out of the class.

"Mister Tigris Malfoy," said Snape, and Tigris realized that Draco still stood next to him. He offered him an assumedly encouraging look before leaving.

Snape waved for Tigris to come up to his desk. "I assume you know what I want from you?"

Tigris nodded without looking up.

"Well?"

"You're kicking me out of this class," answered Tigris between clenched teeth. Why couldn't Snape just say it and be done with it? Tigris already felt awful enough as it was. But of course, this was Snape. Of course he couldn't just let him off easily.

"Why do you think that?" asked Snape, interested. It was a surprisingly neutral tone of voice for Snape.

Tigris angrily gestured at the now clean cauldron. "It's obvious that I can't even brew a simple potion. You know I didn't earn that O for my OWLs."

Snape thoughtfully tapped a finger against his chin.

"What do you think you did wrong with that potion?"

"You saw it! I forgot the clabbert horn. Just go ahead and say it, it was an idiotic mistake. I already know it."

Tigris was waiting for Snape to explode with rage and scream at him, but instead he studied him with a strange expression.

"What's the use of demiguise blood in potions, Mister Malfoy?"

"It's part of invisibility and camouflaging potions," Tigris answered without understanding the meaning of the question. "The demiguise is an animal that can turn invisible. It's blood carries this power and is thus the key ingredient in all potions that have a related effect."

Snape hit the table with his hand and Tigris flinched.

"Why didn't you answer my question at the start of class if you've obviously already studied far more advanced subjects, Mister Malfoy?"

Tigris stared at him. "I…I…" That feeling was back. He wanted to choke Snape right then.

Snape leaned towards Tigris. "Why are you so nervous?" His voice was barely above a whisper, and Tigris felt paralyzed. He inwardly cursed himself.

Snape jerked back upright and turned away. "All your knowledge and skills won't be of use to you if you cannot handle stress, Mister Malfoy. If you lose your head as soon as you feel pressured, then nothing you can do is worth anything."

Something inside Tigris broke and his hands balled into fists. "I can deal with stress! I'm not incapable when under pressure!"

Snape turned towards him. "Really? And why, if I may ask, did you act the way you did during class?"

"I…," shouted Tigris. "It's you! You…you…"

"Are you incapable of finishing a simple sentence, Mister Malfoy?" Snape mocked him.

Tigris clenched his fists hard enough for his nails to dig into his palms. He couldn't believe how furious this man made him. He would have struck him right there if he didn't know that it would lead to an expulsion. What would his father say about that? Tigris took a couple of deep breaths.

"Why won't you just tell me that you're kicking me out of this class and let me leave, professor?" Tigris was relieved to realize that his voice had regained its cool. His hands had relaxed.

"Because I'm not expelling you," answered Snape and leaned against the table casually.

"What?" Tigris stared at him as if he was a ghost. No, not a ghost. Ghosts were too common.

Snape sneered. "Do you have hearing issues as well, Mister Malfoy? I will not expel you from my class. I expect that you will solve your problem, and soon. It would be a shame to waste your talent, simply because you're incapable of controlling yourself. Obviously, you are able to do so if you feel it necessary. So I see no reason to remove you from this class. Don't disappoint me."

Tigris flinched and Snape frowned. Then, he sighed almost inaudibly, shaking his head. "By Morgana's blood, Lucius," he muttered.

Tigris looked at him in shock. Snape laughed humorlessly and waved him towards the door. "You may leave, Mister Malfoy. And remember what I told you on your arrival…if you ever want to talk to me…even outside my job as your professor…I'm not your Godfather, but you may still come to me."

Tigris was so surprised that he could only stare at Snape for a moment. "Thank you, Sir," he stammered finally, before leaving the room.

"How was it?" asked Draco who had been waiting outside for him.

"I'm not expelled from the class," said Tigris, bewildered.

"Of course," laughed Draco. "Did you think Severus would kick you out because of one failed potion? What's up?" he asked, suddenly concerned.

Tigris shook his head. "Nothing. It's just…nothing. I need to sort out my thoughts."

They sat in front of each other on the floor.

"I don't think it'll get any better," said Tigris finally. "I want you to use legilimens on me now."

Draco's eyes flew open. "What? But I can't do that. I haven't even mastered occlumency yet."

"You don't have to be great at it," said Tigris patiently. "Just say it and try figuring out what I'm thinking while doing so."

"If you say so," said Draco doubtfully, and pointed his wand at him. "Legilimens!"

Tigris felt Draco's presence like a weak shadow, and pulled it closer.

"Good," he muttered. "Now look."

He concentrated on Draco's mind, viewing it as a chaotic network in front of him. Thoughts and memories whirled wildly across the surface. Tigris tried getting a feeling for where Draco's consciousness ended and his own started. Then, he pulled back, kicking Draco from his thoughts at the same time.

"Did you see it?"

Draco blinked a few times. "That was…strange. As if I saw a mirror image of my mirror image."

"But you saw it."

"I think so," said Draco, hesitantly. "I could tell the difference between your thoughts and my own."

"That's what I wanted. Now it should be easier for you to notice when someone tries to look into your thoughts. This should in turn make it easier for you to expel them. Whenever you're meditating, you should concentrate on this awareness."

"This is finally making some sense."

"And it isn't even that difficult. Soon, it'll be pure instinct for you to shut out external presences. The difficult part is not doing that and instead offering them fake information. But that isn't as important for now. I think this is enough for today."

Draco grinned at him. "Thanks. I thought I'd never learn this."

"Yeah, I used to be the same." Tigris grinned back.

"We're having try-outs today. Are you joining me?"

Tigris groaned angrily. "How often do I have to tell you this, Draco: I will not participate."

Draco grinned. "I'm not asking you to participate. I just want you to watch. You can sit in the bleachers and read one of your damned books if you can't let go of them."

Somehow, that conversation reminded Tigris of many he had held with Ron and Hermione. He was shocked to realize how much he had in common with Hermione, especially since he had never particularly liked that trait in her. It shocked him enough to set down his book and follow Draco outside.

Tigris sat down in the bleachers and watched the group of candidates gathered in front of the field. It seemed that Draco was holding try-outs for every position. Tigris was surprised when they started with the role of Seeker. Draco obviously flew as well, but there were at least three contenders who were better than him: A third-year called Malcolm Baddock, Helena Wilkes, who had approached him during the welcoming ceremony, and a second-year who was truly impressive. Tigris wasn't sure he could beat him himself, even with his own experience.

As they continued, it was obvious that none of the old players would make the team again if Draco chose fairly. Draco flew for every position. He would've made an excellent Beater. Tigris understood why he'd prefer playing that position. Besides him, the previous team couldn't keep up with the new players.

A Japanese boy, a fifth-grader, was a fantastic Keeper. If Draco chose him, the enemy team was unlikely to get a Quaffle through the rings. Tigris was so fascinated by the try-outs that he didn't miss his books even once. For a few minutes, he regretted his decision not to play anymore, but then he remembered Sirius. It'd never be the same.

After training, Draco joined Tigris, dropping down next to him in exhaustion. He was sweaty and his hair was unkempt, but he was grinning. He looked like the proverbial fox in the henhouse.

"Now, what do you say, brother?"

Tigris raised his eyebrows. "You have some great talent if you know where to look. Where have they been all these years?"

Draco laughed, satisfied. "I took your advice to heart. You didn't hear my announcement in the common room, where I said that everyone was welcome to try out this year and that all positions were open. You were…let me think…in the library. That's why you also missed the following commotion. I bet Wilkes only flew to preserve the honor of our team. Before, she always claimed that she was way too busy for something as mundane as Quidditch."

"Wilkes isn't bad, but that second-year is better."

"Aquila Hunter," said Draco. "Yes, I saw that. Let's talk about the other positions first."

"You want me to help pick a new team?" Asked Tigris, surprised.

"Why not? You can gauge everyone's talents, even if you don't want to play yourself. What do you think about Maria Lafitter, the small blond, as a Beater?"

"Maybe, but Blaise was better. You were better as well."

"Really? I didn't feel on top of my game, but maybe that was due to trying out for Seeker, Keeper, and Chaser before."

"Which are all positions you weren't very good at, but as a Beater, I'd take you in a heartbeat."

"Blaise and me, then?"

Tigris nodded. Draco wrote something onto a piece of parchment. "I want Hitoshi as Keeper. He was excellent. I just hope he can manage with all his classes."

"Agreed. Chaser?"

"Maldoun, the red-head. And Pritchard…that's the first who tried out."

Tigris just nodded. "The small black-haired one?" He then suggested. "Third-grader, I believe? What was her name again? O'Toole?"

"O'Brien. Yes, she's small but fast."

"Good, which means we're back to the Seeker. What's the issue with that boy…Hunter, right?" Tigris considered it for a moment before he realized. "Oh, I get it. Is he muggleborn?"

"Half-blood. His father is mud-...muggleborn. His mother is from a rather old, pure-blooded family. It was a scandal."

"Do you prefer Wilkes? As you said, she doesn't actually want to play."

"There's still Baddock."

"He was only the third-best! And besides, I'm not sure he could beat Ginny."

"Is the Weaslette that good?"

"You saw her play, haven't you? She's not as good as Potter, but she's small and fast."

It was strange to talk of himself in third person, but Tigris was slowly getting used to it. Sometimes, he felt like he was actually talking about another person, who he just happened to know especially well. It was astonishing how far away that life seemed, even though it had barely been two months.

"But Hunter could beat her?"

"Wilkes could possibly beat her. Hunter wipes the floor with her. I'm not certain I could beat him."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure?" He thoughtfully tapped his quill against the parchment. "I'll think about it, but there'll be issues with Wilkes if I pick him over her."

"Tell her the truth: She's too busy with other stuff."

"Maybe," muttered Draco. "I'll think about it."

"Wake up, sleepy-head."

Tigris groaned. He had been reading a truly fascinating book about the development of the Orkhon-Alphabet and its relation to Chinese characters the night before, and had forgotten the time.

"What time is it?"

"Seven," Draco announced, irritatingly alert for the time. "Get up, brother. Breakfast's about to start!"

"Go away…" muttered Tigris and pulled the blanket back over his head. "It's Saturday. We don't have classes until two."

"Correct," said Draco. "But you wanted to train with me, if I recall correctly. Up!"

Suddenly, something pulled on his nice and warm covers, and shortly after, they were gone.

"Hey!" Tigris sat up, still sleepy. Draco stood at the foot of his bed, grinning at him. "Give that back!"

"Tsk, tsk. You sound like a toddler."

"I want my covers," grumbled Tigris and grabbed for them. "Go away. Let me sleep."

Draco's laugh echoed through the room and he effortlessly won the fight for the covers.

"Into the bathroom with you. A cold shower works wonders. Or…" he considered what he said before pointing his wand at Tigris. "...if you don't want to go shower, the shower will come to you."

"You wouldn't dare!" yelled Tigris. "Arrgh!" A torrent of cold water soaked him from head to toe.

"You just wait!" Draco laughed and fled.

Since he and his bed were now drenched and cold, Tigris decided to get up after all, plotting his revenge all the while. He could dye his hair red…or green, since he was a Slytherin. Or he could tell everyone that Draco dyed his hair blond. He grinned mischievously as he trudged towards the bathroom. He really only had to tell Daphne. She was the Lavender Brown of Slytherin.

"Did you know that my cousin bleaches his hair?"

Draco's hand froze halfway to his mouth.

"In fact, his hair is actually more gray like mine."

"Wh-wh-what?" Draco was stuttering.

"Really?" Asked Daphne, now fascinated. "I always thought so, to be honest. After all, the blacks usually have black hair. I think your aunt Narcissa probably also has black hair. At least my mother said something like that at some point. They went to school together, you know? And besides, it's all written down in 'Nobility of Nature: A Family Tree of Wizards'."

Tigris nodded thoughtfully, taking a bite of his toast.

Draco gasped for air.

Tigris took a sip of his coffee.

"Is this true, Drake?" Asked Pansy. "Do you dye your hair?"

"I do not," hissed Draco.

"But why?" Blaise added. "I mean, silver hair is charming as well."

"He's lying!" spat Draco.

"Now, now," said Theodore. "You don't have to feel ashamed about it."

"I'd really like to know what your real hair looks like," purred Pansy. "It can't be that bad. Just look at Tigris. He looks great with gray hair."

"Once and for all, I do not dye my hair!" screamed Draco. Half the room turned to him.

"You dye your hair, Malfoy?" Shouted Ron from over at the Gryffindor table. "What color is it actually? Mud-brown?"

Draco's cheeks were turning pink.

Tigris giggled quietly.

"You'll regret this, cousin!" Hissed Draco, sending him his meanest glare. "Just wait for it. In a few hours, you won't be smiling anymore."

"It was worth it just to see your face," whispered Tigris quietly enough so only Draco could hear him.

"Tell them you lied!"

"But that would take away all the fun."

Draco grabbed the cereal, presumably to dump it over Tigris' head.

"Watch your manners, Mister Malfoy," said a silky voice behind them. Snape had appeared out of nowhere. "Keep your beauty tips to yourselves. There is really no public interest in your hair routine."

Draco's mouth opened and closed in bewilderment.

"You…will pay for this," he then hissed between clenched teeth.

Tigris only grinned. Vengeance was sweet.

Draco hadn't talked to Tigris since breakfast, instead opting to rush into the dungeons ahead of him. They ended up deeper than the Slytherin common room and the potions classroom. Now, he was angrily pacing back and forth in front of an old wizard's portrait.

"Come on, it wasn't that bad," tried Tigris again.

Draco just snorted.

"Now, where are we going?"

Draco ignored him.

The wizard inside the portrait raised his eyebrows.

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Open!" snapped Draco at him.

His brows climbed even higher. "Honestly…," he said, swinging open. "Back in my day, old people were to be respected."

They entered a room with similar equipment as the training room in Malfoy manor, except for the lower ceiling and lack of windows. Still, it was light inside, even without a visible source.

They changed and stepped onto the training mat. On top of it lay a quarterstaff. Just one. Draco considered it for a moment in confusion, before grinning viciously and picking it up.

"It seems you managed to successfully distract me while I was thinking about what we need. Then again, this may be exactly what I want."

He weighed the staff in his hands.

"Come now, Draco," said Tigris, a tad uncertain. "It was just a joke. To make up for the water this morning."

"You embarrassed me in front of everyone," said Draco angrily.

"Technically, I only told Daphne. You were the one who screamed loud enough for the rest of the hall to hear."

Tigris hastily dodged the wand.

"Aren't you exaggerating a bit? I mean, you're not Lockhart, after all."

"Insinuating…that I dye my hair…was insulting. Malfoys don't dye their hair!" Draco hissed, swinging the staff at Tigris. It was somewhat like trying to dodge a bludger, and Tigris thanked Merlin for his reflexes.

"Fine, fine. I apologize sincerely. Now stop it, okay?"

"But he didn't get away with it that easily."

"You will explain to them that it was a joke!" Hissed Draco, and Tigris swiftly dodged out of the way.

"Who, the entire great hall full of people?"

"Daphne, Pansy, and the others!"

"A lover's quarrel?" Tigris barely avoided an especially nasty hit. "Okay, okay. I solemnly swear that I will explain that you have never dyed or will dye your hair, and that blond is absolutely your natural hair color. Now…stop?"

Draco aimed for his legs and Tigris jumped over the quarterstaff. "Please?"

His brother paused and grinned. "Great reflexes, brother. But you shouldn't try me again in the future. You wouldn't want me to actually attempt to hit you."

That afternoon, they had Herbology together with the Hufflepuffs. Tigris had made up with Draco by then, after swearing to the other Slytherins that it had only been a joke. They had believed him only reluctantly, but he had eventually been able to convince them. At least it seemed like it.

Tigris didn't regret what he did. He hadn't had so much fun in a while.

He looked around. There were three Hufflepuffs and seven Slytherins. Tigris pitied the three a little. Susan Bones had to team up with Daphne. It was a bit amusing how the Yams went into a screaming fit as soon as Daphne touched one, and only managed to calm down after twenty painful minutes – thanks to Susan.

Professor Sprout was going to raise Yams and Ginseng with them, plants that were closely related to Mandragoras, but a great deal more demanding.

Yams were relatively aggressive and would turn poisonous if not treated right. Ginsengs on the other hand tended to become melancholic if you didn't pay them enough attention, and would stop growing. On top of that, neither type of plant was used to English weather, which meant they required spells to keep up their preferred temperature and humidity. Draco and Tigris managed to repot their plants easily. Their Ginseng even smiled dreamily – until Daphne's Yams started screaming.

For their homework, Sprout demanded three feet of parchment about the differences and similarities of Yams, Ginseng, and Mandragoras, which elicited a miserable groan from Tracey. Tigris didn't worry too much about it. He had already read enough about the plants so that it should be an easy task for him to write the essay on Monday morning. He didn't say that out loud. During their first week, already, he had started to hate the envious and admiring eyes on him. After all, his good memory was as much his fault as his fame was before. It was just easier to hide.