Unfamiliar Company
Chapter 5 : Unfamiliar Company
Breakfast was oddly quiet.
Harry had expected someone to comment—expected them to remind him that he didn’t belong, that his presence at the Slytherin table was a mistake.
But no one said a word.
Maybe it was the lack of sleep.
Maybe it was the crushing exhaustion.
But Harry no longer cared.
So he ate.
_______________________________
Harry ate.
Not hastily.
Not desperately.
Just… normally.
And that was what unsettled the Slytherins the most.
He didn’t run.
He didn’t sit on the edge of the table like a stranger.
He didn’t pretend he wasn’t there.
He simply sat, ate in peace, and acted like it didn’t matter that he was surrounded by them.
Draco observed him closely.
Every move. Every reaction.
Potter was still Potter—and yet, he wasn’t.
He barely spoke.
He looked exhausted.
And, most unsettling of all, he seemed… at ease.
As if he had just decided that it no longer mattered where he sat.
That made Draco nervous.
Potter was unpredictable.
He expected Potter to vanish the moment breakfast ended.
To his surprise, Harry simply picked up his bag and followed the rest of the Slytherins to class.
Some students glanced at him, confused, but no one questioned it.
Not even Malfoy.
They walked together through the halls, a sight that probably shocked half of Hogwarts.
And then came the next shock.
________________________________
Potions Class
When they arrived at the dungeon classroom, Potter did the unthinkable.
He sat down next to Malfoy.
No hesitation. No comment.
He simply dropped into the empty seat beside him.
Then, instead of taking out his books, he crossed his arms on the table, rested his head on them—
And tried to sleep.
Draco blinked.
Blaise shot him an incredulous look.
Nott raised an eyebrow.
Pansy barely suppressed a laugh.
Draco did not know how to process this.
Was Potter trying to drive him insane?
He jabbed him with his elbow.
No reaction.
Again, this time harder.
Potter lifted his head slightly, blinking at him with sleepy, half-lidded eyes, and mumbled:
"Let me sleep."
Then, he dropped his head back down.
Draco stared at him.
His lips parted, then closed again.
He was… helpless.
Draco Malfoy—completely helpless—because Harry Potter had decided to sit at his table and refuse to move.
He turned to Blaise.
"What the—?" he began, but Blaise only shrugged.
Nott grinned.
"Looks like we have a new house pet."
Draco scowled.
"Potter is not a pet."
"Then maybe a mascot?" Pansy suggested with amusement.
Draco sighed in frustration.
"I can’t exactly put him on a leash."
Blaise smirked.
"If anyone could, it would be you."
Draco groaned.
This was not his problem.
This was not his bloody problem.
And yet, he knew he couldn’t just leave Potter like this.
___________________________________________
Their entire friend group was baffled by Potter’s behavior.
None of them knew how to react.
Draco jabbed Zabini with his elbow.
"What?" Zabini muttered. "I have no idea what he's doing."
"Maybe he’s sick?" Pansy murmured.
"Or just too tired to keep hiding," Nott said dryly.
Draco sighed.
Then he nudged Potter again.
Nothing.
He tried again—harder this time.
Harry stirred slightly, opened his eyes just enough to glare blearily at Draco.
"What the hell are you doing, Potter?" Draco hissed.
Harry blinked slowly.
Then he muttered:
"Let me alone."
Malfoy looked at him as if he had gone completely mad.
"You can’t just—"
But Harry had already closed his eyes again.
Malfoy stared at him.
Then he looked at his friends.
Zabini held up his hands in confusion.
Nott was barely holding back laughter.
Pansy rolled her eyes.
And then—
Snape entered the room.
Draco cursed internally.
This was going to be interesting.
_________________________________________
Severus Snape was a man accustomed to many things.
Surprises were not one of them.
Yet here he was—standing in his classroom—watching as Harry Potter slept at the Slytherin table.
Beside Draco Malfoy.
His godson looked just as baffled, shooting Snape a helpless shrug, as if to say, I have no idea how this happened.
Snape let his cold gaze sweep over the room.
The other Slytherins and Ravenclaws were silent.
Some watched Potter with curiosity.
Others were simply waiting to see what Snape would do.
Snape let out a slow breath.
Potter.
Always pushing limits.
He began class as usual, explaining today’s assignment—a modified Calming Draught.
Potter did not move.
He did not react.
He did not even acknowledge Snape’s presence.
Snape’s patience frayed.
So, he did what he always did.
He handled things himself.
He strode toward Potter’s desk, each step measured, each movement designed to increase the tension in the room.
He stopped directly in front of him.
And cleared his throat.
Silence.
The air in the dungeon grew colder.
The class held their breath.
Malfoy shifted slightly away, as if trying to distance himself from the inevitable disaster.
Potter did not stir.
Snape raised an eyebrow.
Unbelievable.
He shot Malfoy a sharp look.
Malfoy mouthed, I tried.
Snape tilted his head slightly.
Then he cleared his throat again—louder this time.
Harry groaned softly.
He had actually been asleep.
Harry Potter—famous Harry Potter—was asleep in his class.
Slowly, Harry opened his eyes.
Snape watched as awareness crept back in, as Potter’s expression cleared, and as he finally realized who was standing before him.
Snape was not a man known for showing emotion.
But Potter’s visible resignation almost made him smirk.
Almost.
"Mr. Potter," he drawled, his voice silken and lethal.
Harry blinked sleepily, as if hoping this was just a dream.
"Sleeping in my class…" Snape continued, his tone glacial. "Not only a demonstration of your incompetence but also a personal insult to my time."
He studied the boy.
Pale skin.
Dark circles.
Exhaustion that lingered even after waking.
Interesting.
"Do you have nothing to say, Potter?" Snape asked, his eyebrow arching.
Harry yawned.
He actually yawned.
Then he muttered:
"Rules are exhausting."
A collective gasp rippled through the classroom.
Malfoy inched away as if trying to escape the impending disaster.
Snape’s eyes turned to ice.
"Five points from Slytherin for your insolence, Potter. And twenty more for your disrespect."
Harry let out a long sigh.
He looked as if he were wondering if this was really worth it.
"Detention," Snape announced.
Harry sat up suddenly, blinking in alarm.
"When?" he asked cautiously.
"Tonight. After dinner."
Harry’s eyes widened slightly.
He opened his mouth as if to protest—
"Can’t we… I mean, can’t it be in the afternoon?"
Snape scoffed.
"Oh, of course, Potter. Let me rearrange my entire schedule for your convenience."
Harry visibly deflated.
Malfoy smirked, clearly enjoying the show.
Zabini hid a grin.
Nott leaned back, thoroughly entertained.
Harry sighed heavily, letting his head fall onto the desk again.
"I hate this day."
Snape let a slow, smug smile creep onto his face.
"I assure you, Potter—so do I."