Snape stepped out of the fireplace and into Hestia's office. This was the first time he had set foot in the room since the previous school year. The new DADA professor had added quite a few decorations to what had once been a spartan office – even by his own standards. Snape cleared his throat, and he heard her cry out "one moment!" from the adjacent bedroom chamber. He used to opportunity to examine one of the new paintings more closely.

Nearly all magical art he had seen before was of people, creatures, or historical scenes. This one was different in that it consisted of a smattering of colorful swirling brush-strokes, each one moving independently. Sometimes they coalesced into a recognizable figure, but for the most part they depicted nothing at all. Snape was trying to pick out one of the newly forming shapes when he heard her approach.

"Do you like it?"

Snape frowned, tilting his head slightly. "I'm not sure what 'it' is. I've never seen a painting like this."

Hestia laughed lightly. "A honest answer. It's a new style of painting – as far as I know, there is only one witch that makes them – she lives over in Upper Flagley. It's meant to look different from moment to moment."

Snape remained silent. A group of green strokes seemed to be merging into a familiar shape - one he did not wish to remember, yet carried on his forearm.

"Shall we head out then? The students should already be waiting in the courtyard."

Snape nodded, tearing his gaze away from the artwork. He did a slight double-take when he saw Hestia's outfit. She wore a peach-colored robe with red rose motifs. Her hair was wound up in an elaborate bun likely fresh off the cover of witches weekly. She caught him staring.

"Fancy this robe?"

Snape cleared his throat. "Very festive. Perhaps not entirely appropriate for a professor?"

"Come now, we are going to Hogsmeade. Surely we can swap out the drab school robes for something nicer." She turned around and began walking towards the door. Snape stepped in sync.

"It's the third years that are going to Hogsmeade. We are chaperones. We have a responsibility, you know."

Hestia waved flicked her hand aside as she opened the door. "Hogwash. What could possible happen? I don't think any student would step out of bounds when I have the ferocious professor Snape accompanying me. We won't have any problems."

Snape felt his cheeks redden. They walked in silence all the way down to the grand staircase.

"Harry's doing quite well in Duelling. Easily the best first year I have."

"What of it?"

"He told me you've been teaching him on the side." She turned her head towards him, locking eyes. Snape stared back coolly, but had to avert his gaze when she smirked. "You wouldn't happen to be trying to show me up?"

Snape scoffed – perhaps a bit too loudly. "Not at all. I look after all my charges, and Potter.. err.. Harry, shows a great deal of promise." Hestia grinned widely, and he began to feel a bit annoyed. "Besides, why would I want to do that. I don't care about the DADA post, I'm quite happy with my tenure in potions."

"That's not what I've heard," she teased.

"You shouldn't put faith in rumors."

They were nearly at the courtyard now, and Snape felt tempted to walk faster. The witch besides him put her finger on her chin. "I also heard you drew a giant heart with our initials on it outside your classroom a couple of weeks ago. Was that a rumor too?"

Snape groaned loudly, abandoning all remnants of composure. "I swear on Merlin's beard, the next time I see those two dolts I will transfigure them into cat treats and feed them to Mrs Norris."

Hestia giggled. As much as she annoyed him, Snape had to admit that he enjoyed hearing her laugh. "I suppose it was Fred and George that did it?"

"Who else?" Snape grumbled. He flicked his wand mid stride, opening the double doors in front of them. Nearly forty third-year students were scattered around the courtyard, conversing in small groups. They quickly snapped to attention when they saw Snape.

"I didn't tell them you were coming," Hestia whispered in his ear. Snape felt a slight rush when her hair brushed against his neck. He quickly stepped away towards the center of the courtyard. There was dead silence, so he didn't need to amplify his voice.

"I expect all of you to behave yourselves. I will be most… disappointed if that is not the case."

He looked over the students and saw forty heads bob up and down. They had probably been planning on taking advantage of the new professor to run amok. That wouldn't be the case with him around.

"I wouldn't test him," Hestia called out.

They proceeded towards the carriages with the group of students a few paces behind. The crisp October breeze was refreshing at first, but by the time they reached their destination, Snape was happy to leave it behind. He stroked the neck of a thestral as they approached the foremost carriage.

"What are you doing?"

Snape looked at Hestia. She seemed genuinely puzzled. "Petting the thestral?"

Her face lit up. "The carriages are pulled by thestrals? I always assumed they were charmed."

Snape shook his head as he opened the carriage door. He beckoned Hestia in and followed after her. "A common mistake. You have never seen a death?"

The witch shook her head slowly. Retrospectively, Snape wasn't surprised. She was a few years younger than him. At the peak of the wizarding war, her biggest worry had likely been her O.W.L.S. Eleven years later, she was a professor. Still, she had not dealt directly with some of the events that had shaped and hardened those that sat besides her at the head table. At that moment, Snape felt older than his years. Hestia remained silent, likely waiting for him to share. He did not oblige her – in his mind, the past was better left locked away.

The testrals broke into a steady trot, and he settled against the plush leather backrest. The village was a half hour walk from the castle, but only ten minutes by carriage. After a lengthy pause, Hestia broke the silence.

"Where are you going to take me?"

Snape was jarred out of his thoughts. "What?"

"When we get to Hogsmeade?"

Snape stared at her for a moment. It looked like she was serious.

"I am not going to 'take' you anywhere. We have to split up and patrol the streets to make sure the students do not misbehave."

"They're all too afraid of you to 'misbehave'. Besides, we can't keep an eye on all forty of them at the same time. If something does happen, we would find out about it after the fact regardless of whether we are walking up and down the streets for hours on end." Hestia crossed her arms at the end of her long-winded speech.

Snape lowered his head, pinching his forehead. Typically, when students talked back, he gave them detention. In this case, that wasn't an option. Besides, she made a good point. Worse yet, deep down he felt excited about spending more time with her.

"Fine. Where do you want to go?"

Hestia giggled. "Don't ask me. You're the wizard… you are supposed to decide."

"Ceridewen's Cauldrons?"

Snape couldn't resist laughing at Hestia's slack jawed response. "Joking. How about the Hog's Head Inn?"

Hestia raised her eyebrows. "Really, you would take a witch to that dingy old pub?" She turned her head to the side so that she looked out out the window, and pointedly not at Snape.

He ran his hand through his hair. "It's a decent place. Dumbledore's brother is the proprietor. Students don't go there, so we wouldn't be seen."

Hestia turned back to Snape, her mouth twisted in a scowl. "You don't want to be seen with me?"

"That's not what I mean," Snape interjected quickly. "Where would you rather go?"

Hestia faced relaxed. She leaned back in her seat, tapping her chin. Snape sighed. He was not a big fan of theatrics. A glance out the window revealed that they were only a couple of minutes away from Hogsmeade now.

"What do you think of Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop?"

"Absolutely not."

Hestia sighed exaggeratedly. "Three Broomsticks it is…"

"Alright." Snape didn't feel too happy about their choice. It would undoubtedly be packed with students. On the other hand, they could at least pretend that they were doing their job and keeping an eye on things. All rationale aside, he was glad they had decided on something. He didn't think he could take any more back and forth.

The trees outside the carriage changed to grass, and soon they began to see buildings. A short while later, the carriages stopped moving. Snape stepped out the door, followed by Hestia. When all of the students had exited their carriages, he addressed them.

"You all know how you are expected to behave. If I am forced to repeat myself, it will be unpleasant… for you. We will meet back here at 4:00pm sharp. Dismissed."

The students began to disperse into the village. Their silence quickly morphing into a cacophony of excited conversations. The thestrals began to trot back to the castle without any instruction. They were more intelligent than muggle horses, and Hagrid was a good trainer. They would be back at the correct time – more reliably so than some students.

Snape turned towards Hestia. She cleared her throat, pointing her chin at his arm. He was confused for a moment, but quickly realized what she wanted. Sighing, he offered his elbow. She smiled, linking her arm through the crook. "Onwards then?"

He nodded. They began walking towards the Three Broomsticks. The streets were relatively quiet apart from groups of students scattered here and there. Most adult wizards chose to shop at Diagon Alley or one of the other large commercial centers in major cities. Hogsmeade was mostly frequented by students and the occasional tourists. Thanks to the weekly Hogsmeade visits – with each of the five eligible years visiting once every five weeks – all of the shops and services were open on Saturdays.

When he walked through the front door of the Three Broomsticks, Snape's earlier suspicion was confirmed. At least a third of the students on the trip had chosen to start the day off with a butterbeer. As they approached the bar, which was located on the far side of the room, he noticed several students turning around to look at him and Hestia. Some appeared puzzled, while others were grinning. A scowl from Snape made them turn around to their butterbeers.

Rosmerta was more polite and got straight down to business. "What will it be, professors?"

"Two butterbeers." replied Snape. He placed four sickles on the counter, and turned around to look over the room. All the students were pointedly NOT looking at him and Hestia. Content, he turned back to the bar. Once Rosmerta had finished filling their tankards, he led Hestia towards the far corner of the room.

He sat at a small table that offered some modicum of privacy, but also gave a good view of the entire Inn. Seconds later, he cast a privacy charm that would reduce their conversation to a muted garble should anybody try to eavesdrop. The background noise was so great that the necessity of this preventative measure was debatable.

Hestia raised an eyebrow at the display of magic. "That is an unusual spell – where did you find it?"

"I created it."

"Impressive, although most people would just cast the standard privacy bubble."

Snape smirked. "The privacy bubble also blocks out sight, and that tends to draw attention. Besides, we don't want students coming up with theories. My method is more discreet, and only interferes with sound. In fact, I doubt any of the students here even realize I've cast. They probably think they are merely sitting too far away to make out our conversation."

Hestia nodded thoughtfully, before raising a finger. "It wouldn't be necessary in the first place if you had agreed to Madam Puddifoot's."

Snape grimaced. "I don't like that place."

He would never forget the last time he had visited Hogsmeade as a student. It had been raining, and most of his peers had sought refuge indoors. Snape had been walking alone on the way to Dogweed and Deathcap for some potions ingredients to use for his N.E.W.T. project. He was thoroughly soaked and miserable by the time he passed by Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop. As he walked past the one of the front windows, he was treated to a clear view of James Potter snogging Lilly. The tea shop was a common haunt for couples, but most had the decency to sit at one of the more private nooks and crannies before they got down to it. Arrogant Potter probably wanted the whole world to know he was kissing the prettiest witch in the school. Snape had stood there in rain for a couple of seconds. Just long enough for James to catch his eye and wink. It had taken Snape every ounce of restraint he had not to storm in and curse his rival to pieces. Instead, he walked to the herbology shop, got what he needed, and never set foot in Hogsmeade again for the remaining months of his final year at Hogwarts.

Hestia was undeterred. "Surely you took a witch or two there in your your Hogwarts days."

Snape did not respond, instead looking away from her. He was debating if he had made a mistake coming here with her, when he felt her place her hand on top of his. He looked up at her face, slightly confused by the gesture.

She smiled. Not the mocking sort of smile Snape had often been subjected to in his school days, but a genuine one. Its warmth pulled him out of his memory of that chilly February afternoon.

"It's OK if you haven't. I'm as just as pretty and twice as interesting as any of those girls, and I would love to go there with you whenever you are ready."

Snape stared back. A sarcastic jab was on his lips. Decades old habits did not come undone so easily. The emotion swelling in his chest helped him overcome this urge. He smiled back.

Just as he was about to speak, a patronus burst through the nearby wall. It stopped just short of Snape, flapping its wings in an elaborate rhythm before disappearing. The combination of the phoenix patronus and the coded message it had flapped was unmistakable. Dumbledore was calling for help, and he needed it now.

Snape jumped to his feet. "I'm sorry, but I must go now."

She rose as well, a confused expression on her face. She had no doubt recognized the patronus, and the urgency on Snape's face was clear. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Snape nodded quickly. "Keep an eye on the students." With a pop, he apparated to the limits of the Hogwarts wards. He paused for a second, then attempted to apparate to the headmasters office. To his surprise, the magic worked. As he landed in front of Dumbledore's desk, he realized that the man must be in truly dire straits if he had temporarily lifted the wards in his office.

He looked around the room, and found Dumbledore sitting on the floor – leaning against one of the bookshelves. He quickly approached him, and the old man lifted his head slowly.

"Severus, I have never been so glad to see you..."

"What happened?"

Dumbledore tilted his head to the left, and lifted the blood soaked compress pressed against his neck. Snape grimaced at the nasty bite wound oozing with dark, venous blood. The headmaster covered the wound once more.

"Vampire?"

The old man nodded, and Snape promptly ran to the Floo. Seconds later, he was in his potions office, and in less than a minute, he was back at the headmaster's office with a box of assorted vials and a bandage kit. The headmaster was unconscious.

He lifted Dumbledore's hand off the wound, and quickly poured one of the vials over the gaping bite-marks. The mixture would clean the wound, as well as nullify the anticoagulant present in the vampire's saliva. He rinsed his own hands with the remaining contents of the vial.

Next, he unstoppered a glass jar, and took out a dollop of the paste inside. He liberally applied this paste over the bite wound, plugging the fang marks. With a tap of his wand, the paste solidified until it had the consistency of wax. Finally, Snape pulled out a sterile compress, and placed it over the wound. After fixing it in place with a sticky bandage, he tapped the cloth with his wand, and it changed color to perfectly match Dumbledore's skin tone. One short incantation later, it was impossible to visually determine the man had ever been wounded.

Satisfied, he levitated Dumbledore and carried him into the bedroom adjacent to the office. He placed the man down on the bed, and pulled a series of flasks from his box. One by one, he downed each blood replenishing potion down the headmaster's throat until some color began to return to his skin.

Now that the immediate crisis was averted, he pulled a large silver syringe from the box. After breaking a glass ampule and loading the contents, he plunged the needle directly into Dumbledore's heart. The vial contained a short term break on the progression of vampirism, as well as a magical stimulant that would give some short term energy.

Less than a minute later, Dumbledore sat up by himself. He lifted his hand to his neck, and smiled as he felt the bandage. "I take it the injury has been stabilized."

"Yes."

"Thank you. I suppose I should explain how this happened."

Snape nodded slowly. "That would certainly make treatment easier. Make no mistake, you may feel alright now, but you will be taking potions to halt the progression of the vampirism for the rest of your life."

"Yes, I suppose that is unavoidable. Still, death can't be too far off for an old man like me. Let's see… I suppose I should start with just after you left for Hogsmeade."

Over the next half hour, the headmaster told his story of tracking down Quirrel, venturing down into the barrow, and confronting the would be professor. Who was also a vampire… and possessed by the dark lord. Snape nearly fainted at that last revelation. He had never truly believed that the dark lord was dead, but hearing solid evidence in support of this notion was something else entirely. After Dumbledore finished his tale, they sat in silence for a few minutes as Snape tried to process the information.

"You said his soul was destroyed by the wards of the barrow…?"

Dumbledore tilted his head side to side. "In a fashion. Tom seemed convinced that his death would not be final. This suggests that he had another means of returning, and his death today was not complete."

Snape pressed his index fingers together, tucking them under his chin. "Why are you telling me this information." He knew Dumbledore trusted him, but the old man was usually far more reluctant to share more than was necessary.

The headmaster smiled. "I can't think of very many other people that I can trust not to share this information. Even fewer that I can trust to stay calm, and to defend it against legimency or veritaserum attempts." He trailed off for a moment before resuming. "In addition, my near death experience today has convinced me that it may be prudent to be more forthcoming with such vital information in case I die unexpectedly."

Snape nodded. He didn't particularly want to be privy to such dangerous secrets, but it was likely better for him to be Dumbledore's confidant than somebody less capable. "What happens now?"

"I will spend the next few weeks conducting research on how Tom was able to survive that night eleven years ago, and why he was convinced he would survive his death today. More immediately, you can describe the various potions and precautions I will need to take to keep vampirism at bay."

Snape nodded, smoothly transitioning into his professor persona as he described each of the potions. Fortunately, he had stilled the progression of the disease within a couple of hours of the bite. The worst symptoms Dumbledore was likely to experience would be a craving for under-cooked meat, and a higher than normal susceptibility to sunburn. Of course, this was if he stuck to the prescribed potions regimen. By the time Snape finished, the sun had set.

"Harry Potter, seeker and pyromaniac extraordinaire!"

Jordan's quip drew a mixture of laughter and booing from the stadium – no doubt evenly split between the Hufflepuff and Slytherin spectators. Harry cursed under his breath as he stepped onto the pitch. He was hoping people had gotten over his broom catching fire at the previous match. As Jordan had so eloquently demonstrated, this was not the case.

Unfortunately, it would probably be only the first of many such jokes at Slytherin's expense. It was usually up to the professors to keep the biased announcer in check. He doubted the Hufflepuff head of house would stop something that might annoy the Slytherin team into not playing their best. Harry's head of house hadn't even shown up to the game.

According to the Slytherin gossip mill, he had shown up unannounced to the previous day's Hogsmeade trip, spent the entire time with Jones, and then left abruptly only an hour into the outing. At breakfast, the girls – and Daphne in particular – had insisted that Snape's early departure must have been because of a lover's spat between the two professors. Harry himself didn't want to believe. Thinking of Snape and romance in the same sentence was nightmare fuel.

As it was, the man's absence at the quidditch match meant that the Gryffindor announcer had full liberty to ridicule Slytherin. The best way to deal with it would be to thoroughly crush Hufflepuff on the pitch. Prior to the match, Flint and the guys had been confident that they would do just that. Harry had boisterously agreed, but he secretly worried if he would be able to do his part.

The opposing seeker, Cedric, was two years above Harry. He had played during his second year, so he had considerably more experience. That wasn't even the worst part. Harry had only been flying on the Silver Arrow for one week, and he didn't feel ready for a match. The new broom was incredibly maneuverable, but after flying on the comet for over a month, Harry had a tendency to over-steer. On top of that, he didn't quite have a handle on the broom's swift acceleration.

Casting the doubts out of his head, Harry took his position. Madam Hooch looked around the field. Content that everybody was in place, she prompted the players to mount their brooms. A few seconds later, the whistle was blown, balls were released, and Harry flew up to a better vantage point. He took his time, reluctant to show off the true speed of his broom before it was necessary. He wanted the element of surprise on his side.

A Hufflepuff chaser was the first one to make it to the Quaffle, but tossed it back to a teammate when he spotted Flint heading his way. Adrian and Cassius quickly joined their captain in pressing the Hufflepuff offense. It quickly devolved into a game of keep-away. The Hufflepuff's were quite good at passing, and Harry's teammates were having trouble intercepting the quaffle. On the other hand, the 'puffs weren't making much progress towards the Slytherin hoops.

A couple of minutes later, Cassius' chaser managed to slip past him and raced towards his objective. He made it to the hoops, and scored the first ten points of the match. Miles looked frustrated at failing to make a save, and handed the ball off to Cassius, who had been just behind the scorer.

The other two Slytherin chasers joined in on a coordinated offense. The Hufflepuffs appeared to be playing a zone defense on their half of the field, and did not harass the incoming chaser formation until it began encroaching on this territory. At that point, they attempted to scatter the Slytherin wedge with their own counter-wedge, but a well timed bludger forced them to part. This allowed the trio on offense to drive through to the hoops and score an easy ten points against the hopelessly outnumbered keeper.

Immediately after scoring, Flint and Co. fell back a couple of dozen meters and started playing interference with the Hufflepuff chasers.

Flint had outlined this strategy before the match. Playing defense so close to the Hufflepuff hoops was risky – if even a single chaser broke free, he would have an uninterrupted path to the Slytherin hoops, where Miles would be on his own without defending chasers. However, this full-pitch press would prevent the Hufflepuffs from forming up effectively, and create a gridlock that would slow the pace of the game.

Slowing things down was in Slytherin's favor because it gave Lucian and Peregrine time to outplay the opposing beaters. It already seemed to be working. For the first few minutes of the match, the Slytherin beaters had been directing most of the bludgers back at their Hufflepuff counterparts. They had gotten in a couple of minor hits, and coupled with the knowledge of what had happened to the twins two weeks ago, the Hufflepuff beaters were afraid to go anywhere near Peregrine or Lucian.

With the bludgers firmly in their control, the Slytherin beaters began laying down a storm on the Hufflepuff chasers. Coupled with the aggressive defense by Flint and his chasers, the opposition's offense ground to a halt. Similarly, scoring became much easier for Slytherin. Jordan sounded close to tears by the time he announced a 130-20 lead for Slytherin.

Harry could see that Cedric was growing increasingly anxious. A few times, the Hufflepuff seeker tried to join his team's chasers on their attempt at an offense. These excursions were largely unsuccessful. While the extra body gave the Hufflepuff chasers enough momentum to score two additional goals, Cedric had to keep one eye on the quaffle, and another eye out for the snitch.

Unfortunately, he did not have a third eye to look out for bludgers. A solid hit to the flank courtesy of Lucian nearly took Cedric off his broom. While the seeker managed to stay on, Harry noticed that from that point on he avoided leaning to one side or the other.

The score was 210-50 by the time Harry spotted the elusive snitch. He immediately shot towards it, easily twice as rapidly as he could have on the old Comet. The rumbling of the crowd rose in a crescendo as they spotted his flight towards the snitch.

Cedric tried to cut across to where the snitch was headed. The colors seemed to blend by as Harry pushed his broom forward. The air rushing by his ears drowned out all sound. Only seconds into the chase, the snitch took a sharp turn to the right, throwing both the seekers off. Harry did his best to stay on his trail. He only over-steered slightly, but it cost him a couple of seconds to correct his flight path.

Cedric looked to be having similar difficulties with the turns since he couldn't lean to the side very well. No doubt the bludger strike was making any twisting or stretching of his torso an excruciating proposition.

They wound up on equal footing, but Harry quickly broke ahead with a burst of speed. By the time the snitch crossed to the other side of the stadium, he was a full five meters ahead of Cedric. The golden orb was only a couple of arm-lengths away when they reached the stands. Unfortunately, it abruptly plunged downward towards the crowd beneath. Harry pulled his handle upward, and guided his broom through a pathetically loose inverse loop. Cedric managed to reach him, but had an equally difficult time pulling out of his trajectory.

After it had dropped to a height just above the heads of the spectators, the quidditch began to fly parallel to the stands. Harry cursed as he followed. The hyper-sensitive Silver Arrow made avoiding bodies quite difficult. He had to fly at half his normal speed, and Cedric quickly caught up to the point that they were neck-and-neck once again.

Harry felt torn. He could accelerate and endanger the spectators, or keep going at his current speed and allow Cedric to pull ahead. His mind was a storm of fear and worry.

Something inside him shifted, and he felt the emotions fade away. It was like the occlumency lessons he had with Snape, but on a more profound level. He did not have to focus on pushing out the emotions – it was automatic. The only thing left behind in his mind was the image of the snitch dashing just a few meters ahead.

Silently – thoughtlessly – Harry channeled his intent into the Silver Arrow. It put on a burst of speed, dashing him forward. The snitch seemed to be moving more slowly. Instead of seeing the heads of spectators, Harry only saw the empty spaces between them. He did not oversteer. Each minute movement of his body only changed the course of his broom just enough to follow this path. A couple of seconds later, he had his hand around the snitch.

The startled yells behind him were drowned out by a chorus of cheers as he rose above the stands, snitch in hand. The occulumancy trance gently faded away. He pumped his fist in the air as a surge of pride filled his chest. He had caught his first snitch!

"I still can't believe what I saw," Theo paused to take a bite of omelet – only chewing for half a second before swallowing it down. "I've never seen anybody move that fast outside of an actual League match."

Draco stiffed a sigh. "We know that – we were there."

The stringy boy tossed his head side to side. "Sure, but you don't appreciate it like I do. There's no way we are losing a single game this season."

Harry was seized by a coughing fit as his pumpkin juice went down the wrong pipe. He appreciated Theo's confidence in him, but he didn't want that much pressure on him just yet. The previous weekend's win over Hufflepuff had been great, but he wasn't sure he could replicate all of what had happened.

Gregory slapped him on the back, and Harry nearly went face-first in his porridge. He quickly threw a hand up before the other boy could strike again. "I'm fine now, thanks."

Draco peered at Harry with a raised eyebrow before going back to cutting his breakfast sausage. "What's on the menu today?"

"Umm, eggs, bacon, fried bread..."

"I meant classes..."

Vincent frowned for a second before laughing in a surprisingly high pitched tone. Draco put down his utensils and rubbed his temple with his fingers.

Harry cleared his throat, finally rid of the last of the pumpkin juice. "I think it's herbology with the Hufflepuffs and potions with Ravenclaw."

"We also have Astronomy tonight with Draco's favorite house."

The blond boy threw a piece of sausage at Theo. "I think you mean Harry. He's the one that spends hours at the library with his Gryffindor girlfriend."

Harry felt himself go red. He didn't even like Hermione – at this point it was more of a habit than anything. Besides, she was pretty useful when it came to writing essays.

"Hey, she's not my girlfriend. Besides, it's not like we study alone... anymore."

Draco smirked. The git was probably satisfied he got a rise out of him. "Don't be so glum. I'm sure she'll come around now that you're a star seeker."

Harry flicked a spoonful of porridge in Draco's direction. The blond boy nearly jumped off his bench.

"Watch it! This is an acromantula-silk blend."

The girls sitting further down the table turned towards them.

"Can't you afford to buy a new one?" Theo piped in.

Draco was speechless for a moment. He put on an unfazed expression. "Of course. I just don't want to make the trip to London again to get measured."

"If the tailor already measured you once, they probably have it written down somewhere."

The girls giggled, and Draco turned pink. A second later, Theo yelped and reaching under the table to rub where Draco had kicked him. The blond boy pulled out a silver pocket-watch, deftly flipping it open.

"Oh look at that, time for herbology." He quickly got up and proceeded to walk towards the doors, the back of his neck slightly flushed. The girls turned back to their conversation, no doubt now focused on Draco.

Vincent, on the other hand, stared down at his food with an expression so pitiable that it tugged at Harry's heart. There was still a proper heap, but only half of what Vincent had piled on his plate at the beginning of breakfast. "But I still haven't finished eating..."

Harry decided to help out the boy. "It's alright, we still have at least ten minutes left before we need to head out. Maybe Draco's watch is running fast..."

Reassured, Vincent got back to eating. Harry tried to follow suit, but Theo went back to talking about the quidditch match. He kept his responses as short as possible while shoveling down porridge at each opportunity to do so. Harry now understood why Theo was so scrawny. He'd probably spent every meal at home lecturing his dad about quidditch.

Herbology turned to be a bore as usual. They spent the entire class mixing soil for what the fourth years would be planting. During the first couple of weeks of school, Harry hadn't understood why herbology seemed to be lagging so far behind his other classes on the coolness scale. It seemed like he and his classmates were very limited in what they were allowed to do, and most of it didn't involve a wand at all. Fortunately, Neville had broken it down for him in the library one evening.

In the greenhouse, magical plants were grown in a custom made soil mix combined with charms to control temperature, humidity and light. In some cases, astronomy played a role, and the plants had to be grown within specific time constraints.

The fifth, sixth, and seventh years got to do most of the planting and harvesting since these were often the most complicated and dangerous steps. In many cases, the process involved spells or potions knowledge that was beyond the reach of lower years. In addition, collecting the wrong part of a medicinal plant could poison somebody down the line, and potting a mandrake or another dangerous plant incorrectly could be fatal.

The third and fourth years were responsible for feeding and watering the plants, as well as the basic temperature and humidity charms. The second and first years, including Harry himself, were mostly stuck in lectures. Apart from that, their main hands on activities consisted of with mixing soil (which was diligently checked by older students before actually being potted), prepping plant food, and occasionally potting or trimming some of the least sensitive plants.

Harry was relieved when the bell chimed his freedom from mixing any more dirt. Unfortunately, potions turned out to be almost as boring. Professor Snape was only present for the first couple of minutes of class. As soon as he had explained the in-class essay they would be working on, he disappeared through a side door.

Most of the class assumed that the professor had prepared some unpleasant trap for whoever slacked off, so the entire sixty minutes were silent save for the scratching of quills and flipping of pages. By the time Harry emerged from the classroom, his hand was sore from writing. He walked down to the great hall with the other first years, none of which were particularly happy about the way their morning had turned out.

"Merlin, if astronomy is half as bad I might throw myself of the tower."

"Stop being so dramatic Tracy," Daphne replied, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, stooop it, Tracyyy," Draco interjected in a falsetto voice. Daphne held up her hand, and her friends stopped walking. Harry and the guys followed suit, curious to see what would happen.

Daphne walked over towards Draco until she stood just a half a meter away from his face.

"Wh...what are you doing?"

Daphne remained silent. Harry hadn't noticed it before, but she was a few centimeters taller than Draco. With surprising speed, Daphne's arm shot up and she began ruffling Draco's hair. The blond boy tried to twist away, but she kept after him.

"Cut it out! You're messing it up."

The girls burst out in laughter. Harry and Theo tried to restrain themselves, but they only lasted seconds before they joined in. Vincent and Gregory stood by, unsure of what to do. A few weeks ago, they might have helped their friend. Now… they weren't sure if he wanted them to.

Draco answered that question when he pulled out his wand, quickly casting a low powered knock-back jinx. Daphne staggered back a few steps as Draco took the chance to try to smooth back his hair.

"Wow, you did not just do that!"

Harry turned around. He spotted a couple of second year Hufflepuff boys headed their way, wands drawn. They stopped just short of Draco.

"This isn't any of your business..."

"I'm making it my business, you little goblin. You can't go around jinxing girls."

"I'm not a goblin, trollface."

The second years laughed, glancing at each other before turning back to Draco.

"You may be right about the first part, I've never seen a goblin with hair as messy as yours. Now, trollface? That's what your's is going to look like if you don't apologize to her right now."

"He doesn't have to apologize to me, we were just playing around..." Daphne interjected.

"No, I think he should. He needs to learn his lesson."

A small group had gathered around them – mainly the first year Ravenclaws from potions and a smattering of second and third years.

"Leave him alone, Piers," somebody in the crowd called out. "He's just a first year."

Instead, Piers took another step towards Draco, this time poking him in the chest. "Apologize."

Draco seemed to have had enough, because he picked that moment to cast another knockback jinx – this time at Piers. It seemed to have taken the two second years by surprise, and Draco seized the chance to cast again, this time at the other boy.

"Tarantallegra!"

The charm made contact, and its victim fell to the floor, his legs trashing wildly. Meanwhile, Piers had recovered, and cast back.

"Liberacorpus!"

Draco screamed as his feet were pulled out from underneath him so that he was suspended upside down. His wand clattered on the stone floor. Harry winced. It looked like the duel was over.

Piers raised his wand again. "Rictusempra!"

Draco trashed about in mid air. At first he laughed, but after a few seconds he began to wheeze.

"Stop it Piers!" A girl in the crowd called out. There were at least twenty people watching, so it was a bit sad that she was the only one speaking up.

"It's just a tickling charm," the boy called back. He maintained the spell.

Draco didn't seem to be doing too well going by the panicked look on his face, let alone by the sounds he was producing. The tickling seemed to be crossing a line into torture. Worse yet, it didn't look like anybody else was going to step in.

"Protego!"

Harry cast the shield in between Draco and Piers. The older boy broke it off, and Harry heard Draco fall to the floor.

"Petrificus Totallus!"

This time, the spell was aimed at Harry. It found its mark before he had a chance to recast his shield. Harry felt his limbs lock up. Piers grinned as he took a step forward, casually twirling his wand.

"Ah, Slytherin's star seeker. Pity the same can't be said for your duelling skills."

Piers raised his wand, but he paused before casting. In less than a second, the blood seemed to drain out of his face.

"Put it down, Bennet."

Snape's voice was unmistakable, and it was music to Harry's ears. Piers hastily lowered his wand.

"Finite."

Harry felt his limbs relax. "Anybody that is not involved in this… situation… should leave lest they become involved." The group of spectators quickly shuffled off down the hallway. "Not so fast, Malfoy. Judging by your disheveled appearance, I am sure you played a role."

Draco turned scarlet, but began walking back towards Snape.

"Now… I don't have time for this today. I expect to see all three of you in my office tomorrow at 8:00pm sharp. Leave."

Harry and Draco didn't need to be told twice, and they walked off towards the great Hall, taking an alternate route away from Piers. Draco still looked a bit shaky, but he mustered the strength to speak up.

"Thanks, Harry. I owe you one."

"Anytime. I don't like bullies."

They walked in silence for a couple of minutes. "What do you think is for lunch?"

Draco groaned softly. "Don't even talk about food. I still feel like I'm going to hurl."

"I have to. Vincent isn't here - If I don't talk about food, who will?