Chapter 1
“I’ll try and keep this simple for your dense mind Potter,” Malfoy sneered, opening his potions book to the allocated page of the Skele-Gro potion.
“Oh piss off Malfoy, I know what I’m doing.” Harry retorted, snatching a fluorescent purple bottle from the supply shelf and slamming it down on the silver bench he and Draco shared.
“You could’ve fooled me.”
Harry made a face akin to that of a strangled cat in an attempt to mock Draco but kept his mouth shut in favour of tracing the method with his index finger and memorising the needed measurements.
“This needs to be completed by this lesson or it is homework. I want a working Skele-Gro potion on my desk by 9 am tomorrow morning.” Snape barked, eyes fixated at Harry and Draco’s disaster of a cauldron, sitting untouched at the back of Harry and Draco's countertop.
“There is no way this will be done in 45 minutes.” Harry whined.
“Maybe you shouldn’t spend so much time reading the recipe and actually do something then.” Draco huffed as Harry skimmed the same page of his potions book as he had 10 times already.
“I don’t want to mess anything up!” Harry protested, pulling his worn down book away from where Draco could view the open pages, even though Draco’s book had exactly the same thing Harry’s did in it so this move was pointless.
Draco shook his head, “Please, as if you could ever do something and not mess it up.”
“I’ll have you know, Malfoy, that I’m actually not terrible at everything.” Harry huffed. “I got first in Transfigurations dickhead"
Draco rolled his eyes in an overexaggerated way just to piss Harry off more. "Wow Potter, well done. You've surprised me there, who would've known you're good at school? With your unrelenting fame I though school grades didn't even matter to someone like you."
"Piss off, just because I'm not gifted in the potions area of things-" Draco scoffed at this but Harry ignored him. "Doesn't mean I suck at all school aspects and your making it seem like the only reason I got first in Transfigurations is because I'm famous, which is entirely untrue and very rude of you to say."
Draco laughed, a cold heavy sound that echoed off the high ceilings in the old potions classroom. "Me, rude? Never." His voiced dripped with sarcasm. "I was just surprised you were capable of getting above a C- Potter," Draco poured a small vial of bright liquid into the cauldron with an air of nonchalance and looked up at Harry through his eyelashes, a smirk on his pretentious face. "You can't blame me for assuming that Potter, with your last semesters potions grades, I mean...yikes."
Harry was pissed. Just because Harry couldn't craft a brew like Draco or skillfully measure the exact quantities of ingredients freehand did not mean Harry could not excel in other school areas. Harry knew Draco was just trying to get a rise out of him but it still hurt whenever anyone told him his accomplishments that he had worked hard for were only a product of his fame.
"Whatever Draco, I couldn't expect you to know my grades anyways," Harry started, flicking through his book once again, "you seem way too absorbed in yourself and blinded by your ego to understand other people exist.”
Draco grabbed a viridian bottle from the corner of the desk and unscrewed the cork with more force than necessary as he began grilling Harry.
“Oh, I’m the one blinded by my ego, huh?” Draco glared at Harry accusingly, “not ‘famous Harry Potter, the boy who lived, captain of the quidditch team and Gryffindor sweetheart’?" Draco tipped the bottle's contents into the unappealing cauldron and the mixture hissed in a high pitched octave. "Jesus Christ Potter your name is in The Daily Prophet monthly, you have fucking fan girls bowing down at your feet and Dumbledore gives you house points every second you breathe in his direction.”
Once again the conversation was steered right back into discussing Harry's fame. God did Draco have anything else to talk about?
Harry thought back to all the times Dumbledore had favoured him; the times he gave him house points for no reason, handed out extensions on assignments and gotten him out of those detentions Finch had ordered. Harry despised the old wizard's pity. Although it did come with perks, Harry hated how Albus treated him like he was so fragile, he felt like a dainty glass one second away from shattering into a million pieces. His very own role model and mentor treated him like he was an untouchable object, like his fame was reaching new heights of records and he was solving noble acts by the second. If the only leader and trusted adult that had ever shown Harry strength was someone who was afraid of Harry, how was he supposed to understand that his own achievements were worth more than his fame.
Harry was dimly aware of Draco whisking the mixture and adding spices and ingredients with such grace and fervour, delicately plucking petals from a rose and squeezing sap of dandelions so effortlessly it made Harry seethe.
“Maybe if you weren’t such an asshole Dumbledore would give you house points then, Malfoy. I don’t ask for all this, Dumbledore just sees talent.” Harry smirked, his words as sharp as iron blades. “But I doubt you would recognise talent if it slapped you in the face.”
Harry eyed Draco, a devious smirk settling at the side of his mouth. Satisfied with how his statement affected Draco when Draco's hand faltered at the base of the cauldron.
Draco's grey eyes flashed, an unfamiliar emotion flickering in them for a second before his usual cruel self was back. He grinned maliciously before softening his eyes and asking his next question with an air of undeniable innocence.
“Oh ‘Dumbledore’s protégée’, why is our cauldron in shambles if you are so talented then?” Draco pushed the half made SkeleGro potion that he had been continuously working on that was sitting in the bottom of a charcoal black burnt cauldron towards Harry.
Harry looked at the potion and fiddled his hands awkwardly, not really sure how to fix the situation that was their ruined assignment.
“C’mon Potter, what happened to being first in class in transfigurations? Potions isn’t that different, after all, you should be able to do this easily.” Draco prodded Harry.
“Yes, well I could," Harry stumbled, desperately grasping for an excuse to not make the potion. "But that wouldn’t be very fair Malfoy. It’s a group project and no way am I letting you get your sticky hands on 50% of a grade that I did all the work of.”
“I think I've done plenty to get this potion made.” Draco gestured to the many empty bottles of ingredients on his side of the bench and Harry’s lack of- well, anything really, on his side of the bench.
“I wouldn’t want you to get your pretentious hands on 50% of a grade where I did all the work.”
Harry mentally sighed, annoyed that he was giving in to Draco Malfoy, but mature enough to accept that he genuinely hadn’t done a lot to aid the making of this potion.
Harry placed his book that he had been cradling in his arms for the past couple minutes onto the bench and found the page with the Skele-Gro recipe on it.
With a bit more force than necessary he grabbed a dull milky grey bottle from the supply shelf and without measuring, opened it and poured the entire contents into the cauldron.
The milky grey liquid swirled and merged with the acid green bubbling mixture and a spark of bright red shot upwards, hitting the roof and singing the drywall.
Draco recognised what Harry had done a fraction of a second too late.
“Harry!” Draco shrieked, rushing around the side of the bench and grabbing the brunettes wrist, hauling both the boys under the metal bench with a loud thud.
Less than a second later the cauldron exploded, bright burning colours whizzing around the room, covering the yellowing walls and bench space in vivid shades of blue and red.
“POTTER!” A voice bellowed from the front of the classroom.
Draco felt Harry tense beside him, Harry’s arm still tangled and trapped in Draco’s firm grasp.
“MR POTTER WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?”
From the angle that both boys were crouching it was impossible to see Snape’s expression but by the harsh tone he used Harry guessed it was somewhere along the lines of blood curdling anger and white hot fury.
“Fuck” the brunette muttered under his breath, dreading the inevitable punishment Snape would inflict on them.
Footsteps angrily slammed on the concrete floor of the potions classroom, like deafening thunder rippling through the tense air of the silent classroom. Snape stalked up to Harry and Draco ‘s bench, snaking a bony hand under the countertop and pulling Harry up against a colourfully ruined wall by the scruff of his collar.
Draco dropped Harry’s hand as the boy was jerked away from him and Draco awkwardly
“I will ask you again Mr Potter.” Snape seethed, punctuating each word with a hiss. “What is the meaning of this?” Harry could feel his Professor's hot sour breath blowing onto his face and giving him the mild urge to throw up.
“Uh- sorry?” Harry said, half tempted to close his eyes to avoid the piercing gaze of the ratty man.
“Detention! Both of you! And I want 20 pages on my desk in the morning on why lab safety is vital.”
Both boys nodded, disappointed but not surprised with the punishment dished out to them.
“But Potter, one more slip up and you are out of my class.” Snape threatened and Harry shivered, although the demeaning professor made a lot of threats Harry recognised by his clenched jaw and frigid posture that this particular threat was not empty at all. Harry had better be on his best behaviour or better yet, keep his bickering and undivided hatred for Draco Malfoy out of sight from Snape if he ever wanted a future in potions.