”Gillyweed extract?” Harry mumbled to himself. No, that couldn’t be right. Harry groaned quietly and tried to move closer to the board.
“And just what are you doing, Potter?” Snape snarled, his arms crossed and black eyes staring down at him. Harry sat back down and adjusted his glasses.
“Trying to get a better look, sir.”
“If I wanted my students out of their seats, I would have said so.”
“Sorry, professor,” Harry grit his teeth, casting his gaze downwards. Snape huffed but moved to bully another pair of students.
“Honestly, Potter, is it that hard to see the ingredients?” Malfoy’s bored voice sounded from beside Harry. He turned sharply and glared at his potions partner.
“No!” Yes. How was he ever expected to get anything done when he couldn’t actually see the board? Draco scoffed and grabbed a vial of shimmery substance.
“The next ingredient is Silverweed extract, not Gillyweed.” Harry flushed and ducked his head, embarrassed.
“You heard me.”
“Well, I’m not deaf, though it seems that you’re blind.” Harry knew his face was beet red, so no amount of denial would save him.
“I–It’s just hard to see sometimes, uh, from so far away.” Malfoy looked at him curiously.
“Potter we’re a meter and a half from the board.” Harry could feel the humiliation building; was a meter not far?
“Y-yeah, I know! Obviously I’m joking!” He laughed nervously. Malfoy’s eyebrows scrunched and he opened his mouth to reply, but Harry cut him off.
“Just drop it, Malfoy!” The Slytherin scowled and turned away from Harry, adding the Silverweed extract and stirring slowly clockwise. The pair sat in silence until the potion was ready to be cooled and bottled.
“Let’s hope that Mr. Malfoy saved you from another colossal failure, Potter,” Snape snapped, corking their flask and labeling it. Harry didn’t respond, simply picked up his bag and rushed out the door.
He made it about halfway down the corridor before a tear fell, and another quarter before footsteps were slapping the stone behind him.
“Potter, wait!” Malfoy called. Harry ignored him, wiping his face angrily with the sleeve of his robes. He’d almost made it out of the dungeons when his arm was pulled backwards.
“Harry!” Harry whipped around, not knowing how close his counterpart was. They stared at each other, green eyes to grey, unmoving. Harry could feel Malfoy’s breath puff out around him, and he could see how his eyebrows were drawn together in what looked like concern.
“Potter?”
“What do you want?” Harry was exhausted. He just wanted to go back to his dorm and crawl in his bunk, never to be seen again.
“I just…do you get headaches a lot?” Malfoy asked suddenly. Harry shook his head in confusion.
“What?”
“Do you get headaches a lot, especially after class?”
“What’re you on about now, Malfoy?!”
“Just answer the question!” Malfoy said, exasperated.
“I mean, I guess?” Harry thought about it for a minute. “Yeah. I suppose I do.”
“And how close do you have to be to read something?”
“There’s nothing wrong with having to look a little closer at the book, Malfoy! It’s perfectly normal!”
“That’s just it, isn’t it? It’s not normal. Potter, I think you need new glasses.” Harry flinched back from Malfoy and reached up to touch his wired frames.
“No I don’t.” Malfoy gripped his shoulders.
“Yes you do!” Malfoy smiled. “I figured it out! That’s why you are a complete berk at potions, you can’t see the board!” Harry shoved Malfoy back.
“What the hell, Potter?!” Draco straightened his robes angrily. Harry started to back away, putting as much distance between them as possible.
“Shut up Malfoy, you don’t know what you’re talking about!” Those were the last words spoken before Harry took off running. He didn’t stop until he reached The Fat Lady’s portrait.
He had to yell the password at her three times before she stopped singing, shooting him a glare before rolling her eyes and letting him inside. Harry stomped all the way up the stairs into his dorm room, no other first year boy in sight.
“New glasses, I don’t need new glasses,” he mumbled while throwing his bag to the floor. He decided he was going to crawl into bed early; he didn’t feel like eating dinner anyway.
***
The next day in potions wasn’t much better. Malfoy wasn’t speaking to him, which wasn’t abnormal, but they had to brew a totally new potion together and finish it outside of class. The boys didn’t speak a word, but Harry noticed his potion book font looked rather big. He didn’t even have to lean down as far to read it!
He knew Malfoy was wrong about his glasses; they had worked perfectly fine all the twelve years of his life and that wasn’t about to change any time soon. With a satisfied smile, he chopped and diced the ingredients perfectly, much to Snape’s dismay.
“Seems as if you’re not brewing your potion as atrociously today Mr. Potter. I’m elated you can finally not be a complete waste to Mr. Malfoy,” he said with a snarl. Harry’s happiness quickly dissipated at the reminder that he could never be as good as precious Malfoy. He glanced over at the prize student and winced when he was already looking his way.
“What’re you looking at?” Harry asked accusingly. Malfoy scoffed.
“Not much,” he said with his pointy face pinched even tighter than normal. Harry wondered if he’d ever grow into his features; knowing his father, probably not. Harry just rolled his eyes and proceeded to stir their potion.
“You can handle stirring clockwise, can’t you?” he asked Malfoy, holding out the spoon. Silver eyes narrowed slightly.
“I’m not impotent, Potter, unlike you.” Harry decided, for once, to ignore him.
After class ended, he was prepared to make a beeline for the door, but a certain Slytherin stopped him.
“We need to finish this potion tonight, so meet me back here before dinner. Let’s say, five?” Still mad, Harry only nodded stiffly and maneuvered around the young blonde. He was supposed to meet Ron and Hermione in the library to go over their Charms homework anyhow.
Upon arrival, he shrugged his bag off his shoulder and slumped into one of the brown leather chairs with defeat.
“Arguing with Malfoy is exhausting.”
“Well hello to you too, Harry,” Hermione clipped. Her bushy hair was tied back and her brown eyes were glaring at him. Harry smiled guiltily.
“Sorry ‘Mione, hi Ron.” Ron was currently scribbling harshly on a piece of parchment that looked like it’d seen better days. He only grunted in response.
“He’s given up on his essay and moved on to destruction of property.” Ron looked up to stick his tongue out at Hermione and then went back to scribbling.
“Anyways,” Harry sighed.
“What did Malfoy do now?”
“He’s just a pompous arse!” Harry angrily exclaimed.
“SHHHHH!” Madam Pince scowled. Harry rolled his eyes and turned back towards his friends.
“Why did Snape have to make us partners,” Harry groaned. Hermione looked at him sympathetically.
“At least he’s good at potions, Bulstrode won’t even speak to me and makes me do all the work!”
“I can give him a swift kick in the bollocks if you’d like, mate.” Ron looked a little too happy when thinking about that scenario.
“Thanks guys, but I think I can handle him for now,” Harry checked his watch, “Speaking of, it’s about time for me to meet him, I better go.” He pushed back his chair and tucked his books in his bag, already dreading the long night ahead of him.
On his way back to the dungeons, he heard the familiar whispering of the portraits and the stairs moving all around him.
It was strange being in a school where everybody knew who he was and wanted to talk to him. He’d never felt that when living with his aunt and uncle, not once.
The only person who didn’t really like him was Malfoy. Harry often thought about how differently this year could have been if he’d have simply shaken Draco’s hand, if he’d have wished to be in Slytherin instead.
Too late now.
He finally reached the potions classroom and waited outside the door for Malfoy. He pulled out his wand and cast Tempus, seeing that it was now a minute to five. He’d never witnessed Malfoy late. Ever.
As if he’d heard Harry’s thoughts, Malfoy came strutting around the corner, smirking like usual.
“Cutting it a bit close, Malfoy.”
“As if I’d ever be late, Potter.” Harry scoffed but refused to respond, instead walking into the potions classroom and finding their cauldron. A couple of other students were also working on theirs, but they were far enough to be out of earshot. Draco followed him and peered down at their nearly-done brew.
“This should only take us an hour.”
“An hour!” Harry whined. Draco cut him a deadly stare that made Harry shut up immediately.
“We only need to stir it clockwise 50 times, counterclockwise 100 times, and then bring it to a boil for ten minutes before it’s done.”
“How come you know so much about potions?” Harry wondered aloud. Malfoy began picking up a spoon and rotating it in the cauldron steadily clockwise.
“I read my book.”
“Well obviously! I do too, and I’m not half as good as you.” He didn’t know why he’d said that, but it seemed to make Draco preen.
“Because you can’t read, Potter.” Not this again.
“I. Can. Read.” Harry grit, gripping the table so hard his knuckles turned white. Without taking his eyes off of the potion, Draco leaned over and tapped Harry’s glasses with his finger. Harry shoved his hand away and scrunched his nose in confusion.
“It’s your glasses. They’re the wrong prescription.”
“Prescrip–no they’re not!” Malfoy rolled his eyes.
“Will you just let me show you? Please?” Thrown off by Draco’s use of manners, Harry did nothing as Draco raised a wand to his face and uttered a spell he didn’t recognize. He squeezed his eyes shut, anticipating a jinx to come out of his wand and this to all be a prank. Nothing happened, but he still kept his eyes shut.
“I won’t know if I fixed it if you don’t open your eyes.” Harry slowly opened his eyes, looking directly at Malfoy, who for once wasn’t fuzzy around the edges. He gasped and almost fell back, but Draco grabbed the sleeve of his robe and kept him upright.
“Where did you get those glasses, Potter?”
“Um, they were an old pair of my dads. My aunt told me he left them at her house once and I could have them.” Draco looked puzzled.
“Didn’t she get you glasses of your own?” Harry shook his head. “Well why not?”
“It doesn’t matter now, you fixed them! Thank you, Malfoy. You’re a good friend.” Draco’s eyes widened.
“Friend? Who said we were friends?”
“Well, you did fix my glasses, so if the offer still stands,” Harry held out his hand. Draco looked back and forth between Harry’s hand and his eyes.
“Really?” Harry nodded.
“As long as you’re friends with Ron and Hermione too.” Draco sneered and looked away.
“The mudblood and the weasel? Really, Harry? We’re better than them.”
“I know I’m not, and I don’t believe you actually think you are either.” Draco hung his head and sighed.
“Fine.” He shoved his hand into Harry’s and shook it, making Harry smile.
“Good, now let’s finish this potion before Snape comes back.”