The train ride was a quiet one, at least, as far as any journey can be quiet on a train full of hundreds of excited schoolchildren being pulled by a mighty, noisy, steam engine. Halfway through, Harry was invited to a meeting with this new professor, Slughorn, about whom Draco had heard so much. In fact, Draco was a bit disappointed not to have been invited, but there was nothing that could be done about that. It wouldn't be polite to gatecrash, after all. With Ron being equally reticent, Draco squirmed about on the seat for a bit to make it comfier and opened his paper. The day's Prophet was filled by a special article reviewing Barty Crouch, who had announced his retirement a few days earlier. Turning the page he carried on reading

So far Crouch's ministerial career was without incident, but following Harry Potter's fight with Death Eaters inside the Ministry it was revealed that the Permanent Secretary to the minister, Mr Lucius Malfoy, was in fact a Death Eater. Professing ignorance of the secret activities of the most senior civil servant, Crouch swiftly replaced Malfoy and gave personal evidence against him during his trial, which resulted in Mr Malfoy being sent to Azkaban. Even this seeming disaster, which many ministers would have turned into a public relations calamity, was used by Crouch as a publicity triumph; his hard-line against Death Eaters, even one who was a close colleague, was one of the most welcome parts of his ministership.

Great. Now even the Daily Prophet was rejoicing that his father was gone. Now everyone would think that he was a Death Eater. Years of hostility lay before him. Hadn't his father screwed up his life enough? Why had the old idiot had to get himself caught? Well, he should have seen it coming, it was just about the worse thing the old bastard could have done. Let him rot in Azkaban, he wasn't going to do anything about it, no. Nothing at all.

Draco brooded all the way to Hogwarts, where he and Ron were met by Harry, fresh from his meeting with Slughorn, and Hermione, who had been busy patrolling the train for troublemakers. Annoyed that he hadn't been invited to a party for high-flyers by Slughorn, Draco continued brooding all the way through the sorting and the feast. His heart picked up slightly when he looked away from the high table straight into the smile of Hermione. A brief smile flickered across his lips and lingered there for a while. Somehow cheered, he felt happy all the way through dessert, indeed, he felt happy right up to the end of the feast, when he had to escort a crowd of blithering first years up to the dorms. This whole prefect lark wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

The next morning saw the dishing out of timetables. It was a nightmare, even with the frees that had been added in to the mix. Unfortunately, none of the free periods were first thing in the morning. This morning for example, started off with double potions, with this Slughorn chap. Draco turned up reluctantly to what turned out to be the best lesson of the day.

Slughorn was nothing like Snape. He welcomed them warmly into the classroom and started cheerfully.

'Well. I'm your new Potions master, Professor Slughorn, today we'll be giving a bit of a brief recap and then we'll be moving on. I give you fair warning that most of what you have attempted before will seem like child's play compared to NEWT levels.'

At that point, Harry and Ron came through the door.

'Oh. Hello there Harry, m'boy. Come on in.'

'Sorry I'm late, Sir. I didn't know that I was taking potions until this morning- I haven't got any things either.'

'I see. Well, take what you need from the stores, there's some spare books over there somewhere. Take what you need until you can write to Flourish and Blotts.'

'Thank you, Sir.'

'The same goes for your friend.'

Ron made the appropriate noises and they settled down to listen to Slughorn's continued commentary.

'Here we have some potions. Can anyone identify them? Yes- You, Ms..?'

'Granger, Sir.'

'Ms Granger, very well. Would you care to start with this one?'

'Amortentia, isn't it, Sir? You can tell by the unique shimmer and the way the steam is rising in coils. It's said to smell different to each person who smells it, depending on what attracts them. I ,for example, smell ink and parchment and spearmint.' Hermione blushed and came to a stop.

'Very well done, Ms Granger. This must be the friend you told me about Harry. Brightest witch of your age, you said. I can see why. Well, who's for the next one?'

He pointed at a thick, gloopy, bubbling potion. Draco's hand raced Hermione's for the ceiling. Both of them had made some of this in their second year. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco thought he could see both Harry and Ron's hand twitch. Apparently they decided not to- perhaps they felt that since Hermione and he had brewed it successfully in their second year, they deserved to answer the question.

'You there, Mr...'

'Malfoy , Sir. It's polyjuice potion.'

'Yes, Mr Malfoy, it is. So, you're not in Slytherin then. Unusual. Take after your uncle, then.'

'Apparently so, Sir.'

'Yes. Well, there's one potion I haven't described to you. This one back here. You can see its golden colour and the way it's bouncing around like a demented wasp? That's unique to this particular potion. It's Felix Felicis.'

'Liquid Luck.' Draco mumbled under his breath. Despite his age, Slughorn heard every word.

'Exactly, Mr Malfoy – liquid luck! Now we've still got an hour left today, so we're going to do some brewing. Turn to your books and find the recipe for the draught of living death. Whoever makes the best one in the time we have left will claim a small vial of Felix as their prize- but beware! It's banned in all sport and exams internationally. Nonetheless I promise that when you take some it will make any ordinary day, truly extraordinary.'

They turned to their books and started to brew. Harry's old copy had some notes scribbled in the margin in a hand that somehow reminded Draco of one he'd seen before. That in itself wasn't particularly notable, but the advice that these notes contained certainly were. So-on, Harry, Ron and Draco were following the adjustments made in Harry's textbook, whilst Hermione, for some reason known only to herself, deemed it to be cheating and carried on with the printed instructions. By the end, both Draco and Harry had finished, whereas Hermione's was a mysterious shade of russet and showing no sign of lightening. In the end though, Harry's was the finer and Draco did not win the prize- although he may have won Slughorn's respect.

Something about Draco had impressed Slughorn- for the next time the venerable pedagogue summoned his favourites for tea, Draco was invited, replacing, Harry hinted, Marcus Belby. Hermione was also invited along and it was with a sense of eager anticipation that they hurried to Slughorn's office, long after the sun had set slowly in the clichéd west.

They arrived in the stone-walled office to find a large table set out in the middle, with plenty of tall, ornately carved wooden chairs arranged around it. Slughorn welcomed them in and they took their assigned place at the table. With so many new faces, the conversation was led by Slughorn, asking all of the new arrivals about their lives and the lives of their close family. Harry told them afterwards that at least half of the faces who had been invited to the tête-à-tête on the train hadn't been invited back- having been found out to be not quite up to scratch. Draco however was oblivious of this as the meeting progressed, as was Hermione and he was beginning to feel a bit nervous as he saw that some people were getting interviewed by Slughorn. Then it was his turn.

'So, Draco are you still playing cricket? I didn't get to see the last season.'

'Yup, I'm still playing. Lee made me vice-captain last year, and we did quite well. I'm not really looking forward to this year so much, though.'

'Oh?'

'Well, I'm the senior player and we've lost a lot of the team – Gryffindor aren't the force we once were.'

'I see. So, I hear that you're something of a transfiguration whizz.'

'I'm alright I suppose, Sir.'

'And modest too. Well, Ms Granger, I understand you're muggle born. What do your parents do?'

Glad that the grilling was over, Draco let out a silent sigh of relief. Soon the questioning was over and Slughorn announced that they would have a bite to eat. He waved his wand, and a small plate of smoked salmon appeared, accompanied by a slice of lemon. Slughorn told them all to tuck in and they did. The lemon juice cut through the greasiness of the fish beautifully and when Draco finished, he found himself wishing that it could have carried on forever.

This feeling soon disappeared, however, when the main course arrived on the table, soon after everyone had finished their starter. Fluffy roast potatoes accompanied crisp carrots and succulent green beans. The real highlight of the meal though, was in the centre of his plate, wrapped in pastry. Draco waited for a moment, and when Slughorn picked up his cutlery, Draco eagerly followed suit, keen to know what was contained within the pastry.

It was delicious, a large chunk of wonderfully tender beef, still slightly pink in the middle, with a creamed spinach and mushroom forming an exquisite layer between the beef and the pastry, which yielded to Draco's knife in gorgeous golden flakes. The meal was accompanied by a sumptuous elf-made red wine, which Slughorn asked them to keep secret, as he wasn't strictly allowed to give it to them- even if it would be a crime to have a meal as fine as this without a drink to match it.

The conversation slowed whilst they were eating but soon picked up again afterwards, this time into a more relaxed, casual conversation about all sorts of matters, even getting on to the topic of Umbridge – who was not only universally condemned by the group as the worse teacher who ever lived, but also put forward as a strong candidate for the most evil woman ever. Slughorn merely smiled at the naivety of the group and mentioned the word "Morgana". The topic of conversation swiftly changed.

Draco sat silently listening to the conversation swirling about him, hearing snippets here and there that interested him, his attention always flitting from person to person, appraising and evaluating each and every one in turn. From across the table his eyes met Slughorn's, and each realised the other was doing the same thing. Their eyes quickly moved on, examining the next person and the next. There was nothing like people watching to tell you who was who and what they thought- in casual conversation people tended to give everything away that they would keep guarded in a more formal setting. So that was why Slughorn held these meetings, so he could win the affection- or if not get the dirt on – those students he felt would be the movers and shakers of the next generation. The wily old bugger. Draco quietly wondered whether he had gotten his role on the Hogwarts' staff, and had continued his role as cricket commentator through a similar scheme- did he have something on Dumbledore? Or was this just a sideline to a man who could, for all Draco knew, be a genuinely talented brewer who deserved his teaching post? Who knew? Not Draco.

After an excellent sorbet, dessert arrived. It was unsurprisingly, considerably grander than any dish that Draco had previously had at Hogwarts. It was, at least technically, a trifle, with layers of sponge fingers, jelly, custard and cream all coming together to form a sumptuous pudding. Bowls appeared in front of them and Slughorn stuck a tablespoon into the trifle and encouraged people to serve themselves. As the perfectly smooth layer of cream was penetrated by person after person to reveal the thick golden custard underneath, Draco found himself impatient for his turn. It soon came, and Draco thoroughly enjoyed the feel of the spoon diving deep down into the trifle until it hit the bottom of the glass bowl it was in with a quiet chink. Then, with about as much finesse as a bludger, Draco heaved the delicious layers out and into his bowl, narrowly missing spilling it all over the table. That had been a close one. Oh well, by now he had everything under control and could pass the trifle on, after all, there wasn't anything anyone could've seen, was there? From across the table he caught Hermione's eye, which was twinkly with mirth. Bugger. Someone had seen and it had to be her who had, didn't it? Draco looked down and stayed silent, hoping to avoid the blush which he could feel already pounding through his cheeks.

Draco kept fairly quiet throughout the rest of the evening, not wanting to embarrass himself further and when the club dismissed, he found himself, to his surprise, one of the select few being asked to remain behind for a nightcap, well, a mug of hot chocolate. Harry and Hermione were there and together they formed the chosen three who had been asked to stay behind.

Slughorn turned the charm up a notch or two as he whipped up the cream to go on top of the four mugs of hot chocolate. When he had finished, he gestured to some comfortable looking armchairs that sat in the corner of the room.

'There's only three, I'm afraid, but I don't mind standing.'

Draco wondered whether Slughorn might have heard about his transfiguration OWL and decided that this was probably a test, to see whether it was true or not. Deciding it was worth passing, Draco whipped out his wand, concentrated and soon a plush armchair, that matched the rest except for the colour, completed the circle about the coffee table.

If Draco thought Slughorn had been trying to get to know them previously, this took things to a whole other level.

'So, Draco, forgive me if this is too personal, but how well do you get on with your father?'

'Him? Haven't seen the bastard in years, Sir. He disowned me for being sorted into Gryffindor and I've not looked back.'

'I see, I assume your relationship with your mother then...'

'Not much better. I haven't seen her since the day I first came to Hogwarts either, although I reckon that was more due to him than her, if you catch my drift, but with her having gone on, so to speak, I'm never going to see her again.'

'I'm sorry for your loss. So your uncle's been looking after you?'

'Yes, Sir.'

'Well, at least you've got someone.' Slughorn said abruptly, before moving on to talk to Hermione about the role of dentists in a modern muggle society. Draco left with Harry and Hermione after they had finished their hot chocolate half wondering what had just happened.