Classes & Confrontations
De Amore Et Bello
Chapter 2
🍺⚡💥
Previously on De Amore Et Bello:
“Let’s just say that whilst I can take any physically punishments, I refuse to let anyone strike my family. And when they did … I decided it was time to pack up and run.” Harry smirks wryly, refusing to dwell on the way Sirius takes a step back and Peter sucks in a soft gasp. James expression falls before twisting with righteous fury, likely seeing the similarity between Sirius’s home life and the one they believed Harry and his friends to be subjected too. Remus doesn’t react at all, which Harry’s grateful for, for the kindness and understanding would’ve likely flayed open a chasm in his chest he wasn’t ready to fall into.
Harry approaches his bed and pulls back the covers, kicking off his shoes and peeling off his socks. He climbs in, completely foregoing his night-time routine, far too tired and mentally exhausted to care. Ignoring the eyes on him from the other four, he reaches up, tugs the curtains around the fourposter bed closed and falls back onto the bed with a soft thump. Sighing, he stares at the ceiling.
When he closes his eyes, sleep claims him almost immediately.
🍺⚡💥
Monday, September 2nd, 1977
Harry wakes up to whispering. His eyes feel encrusted shut from the long slumber. He hadn’t slept so good in so long; every waking moment, they were all worrying over each other, wondering if that was the day they were going to get caught and sent to Azkaban. But here, in the past, they didn’t have to worry about someone recognising them and going to the authorities. Here, they could be whoever they wanted to be, go wherever they wanted. Although, with that, came with the fact that they’d have to be careful about the things they learnt and took in and who to entrust with their secrets, if they gave any secrets out at all.
Sitting up, Harry reaches up and tugs the curtains aside with a harsh groan, getting to his feet. He rips off his outside clothes, leaving him in just his boxers, completely missing the largened eyes of the marauders from where they’re perched on Remus’s bed, staring at him. Sirius ducks his head, blush on his cheek whilst James slaps his hands over his eyes, bemoaning about how “his new roommate was an exhibitionist”. He got a firm slap over the head for that statement courtesy of Remus.
Harry snorts, yawning, pushing the hair out of his eyes. He scratches his naked side, going towards the bathroom, stripping himself of his boxers, throwing them onto the side uncaringly. His embarrassment about his body had faded into nothing after he’d realised that no one really cared what he looked like in his small family. If his family didn’t care how he looked then why should he waste time worrying over the opinions of people he didn’t care about? Or had barely gotten to know in his past either?
Ducking inside the shower stall, Harry washes his body and hair quickly, drying himself with a flick of his wrist. With another flick, his clothes zoom into the room. Harry pulls them over his dry limbs, shoving his dirty clothes into a hamper. Another yawn breaks free from his lips as he walks back into the dorm room, seeing the marauders in the same space they were in before he’d showered. As he’s leaning down to pull on his combat boots, tying them tight with a double loop, someone waltzes into the dorm room.
Harry glances up. Draco stands in the doorway, Slytherin crest across his breast. Black knee socks hugs his legs, black skirt coming up to mid-thigh. A jumper’s placed over his white t-shirt, one half tucked in, the other peaking beneath the hem. His green Slytherin tie is just a little loose, top button undone. He’s also wearing combat boots, like Harry’s.
The marauders splutter. “Can you—can you even wear that?” Peter demands, fearful for the teachers ire. Draco laughs.
“It’s not against the rules for a boy to wear skirts.” Draco turns to face Harry, smirking widely. “Well, what’d you think?” Draco gives a little twirl, laughing when Harry stands, walking over to Draco and slinging an arm around his shoulders. Harry gives Draco a once over. Then, a smirk graces his face.
“I think a certain someone isn’t going to be able to take his eyes off you.” Draco goes pink.
“Harry!” Draco elbows him in the side. Harry snickers, going with the elbow, letting Draco go. “But really, do you think … do you really think anything bad is going to happen if I wear this out to classes and such? I don’t like the thought of unnecessary trouble for you guys.” Draco grumbles, shifting on his feet, skirt flittering around his thighs. Harry pinches the skin there, making Draco yelp.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Dray. You’re family, extra trouble be damned. If someone says anything, tries to put their hands anywhere you don’t want them then I’m sure we all would hex them into oblivion. That is, if you don’t get to them before we do. Man, are your hexes brutal.” Harry shivers with real fear at the remembrance of Draco’s hexes when he was pissed off. Whilst they had been mild in school, ever since Draco got out from the watchful eye of everyone in Hogwarts, his skill and knowledge of everything magic had only seemed to grow and flourish more. Including his hexes.
“Good.” Draco sniffs, traces of nervousness and hesitation seeping from his figure. Harry rolls his eyes, extending an arm, watching as Draco takes it. He leads him out of the room and down the stairs, out of the common room where more Gryffindor’s are starting to awaken. When a group of elder Gryffindor’s see Draco, they let out wolf whistles. Harry glares at them as they walk past, making them back down. They get out of the common room via the Fat Lady’s portrait, who sneers at them for throwing the portrait open so violently.
When they walk into the Great Hall, it goes abruptly silent in the way only something drastic can. Glancing around, Harry notes that only Gryffindor seems to be running late as most, if not all, members of the other three houses are there. Draco leads Harry over to the Slytherin table where Fred and George are already sitting, waiting for them to approach, heads craning over their shoulders for a better look. The twins have shit eating grins on their faces.
“Trying to look pretty for a certain someone?”
“Perhaps another fellow snake?” George and Fred say, one after the other. Draco smacks them around the back of their heads, collapsing into his seat, folding his legs beneath him. Harry snickers, taking a seat next to Draco, sandwiched between another Slytherin. Harry blinks at Regulus Black, who’s sipping a cup of tea, arching an eyebrow at him when he notices Harry staring at him like a fool.
“You want a picture?” Harry shakes his head. Regulus hums. “Then stop staring, lover boy.”
Harry turns away, mortified. Draco snickers, loading some pastries onto his plate, biting into them. Harry glances up from the table he’s staring down at, faint blush still on his cheeks, to the doorway of the Great Hall, where the marauders have just entered, chattering to themselves. They sit down at their usual spots, Sirius glancing around for someone before whispering to the marauders. The trio also take to looking around the Hall, until James spots Harry sitting at the Slytherin table, whipping around to face the marauders, hissing something harshly. Sirius looks towards them, glancing between the group there, eyes going dark.
Turning away, mouth feeling suspiciously dry, Harry picks at some scrambled eggs laying across the table, lathering them onto his plate, placing some bacon on top. Harry’s just about to transfigure some coffee into his goblet when the ceiling opens up and owls swoop in, heading off to their respective owners. Looking when a rather large owl flies over to James, seating itself onto his shoulder and nipping at his ear. James unwraps the letter and package, reading the note and exclaiming about his mother’s homemade cookies.
A yearning feeling explodes in Harry’s gut, so sudden and intense that it takes the breath out of Harry’s lungs. Draco presses closer, wrapping his leg around Harry’s, curling his ankle closer. Taking a deep breath, Harry nods. Draco retreats, drinking his transfigured tea like nothing unusual had occurred. Fred and George glance up when an owl swoops closer, dropping a large package onto their laps. In it is what is clearly a new broom. They peak at the small flap where the note is written.
“For our dear little snake. May you forever fly away.” George snickers, handing the package over to Draco. Draco rolls his eyes. Then with the watchful eyes of most of the Great Hall on him, he rips the wrapping paper off, mouth falling open at the new broom situated in his hands. Draco’s incredulous eyes roved over the Nimbus 1700, a broomstick that was made just under two decade before the Nimbus 2000, the broomstick Harry had flown in 1991. It was still relatively new, made just three months prior and had cost an arm and a leg. Harry had written a small note to Gringotts to buy one and send the broomstick to Hogwarts the following morning, asking a small measly second year Gryffindor to run up to the owlery for him, just before he’d been ambushed by Draco after dinner.
“No fucking way!” Draco screeched, lurching to his feet. Eyes that weren’t previously on him before now were, looking to see what the commotion was. Mouths fell open, eyes widened significantly, and a few were gasping at the sight of the broomstick in Draco’s long fingers. “Who even …?” He trailed off, glancing at the others. Charlie snickers, pointing to a smug faced Harry.
“Happy birthday, Draco.” It rings out into the silence of the Great Hall. Draco hands the broom off to Bill hastily, clambering over the table to throw himself into Harry’s arms. Harry laughs then groans as they tumble off the bench.
“I cannot believe—this must’ve cost thousands!” Bill and Charlie marvel over the new broom. Harry pulls himself to his feet after Draco’s let go of him, taking the schedule that Fred saved for him, that McGonagall must’ve given him after she saw the heap of tangled limbs on the floor. He glances over it, humming softly. In place of extracurriculars they want to choose such as Divinations, Care of Magical Creatures and more, the spaces are blank. Harry assumes they’d fill those out when the time came, after they went to see their head of houses to decide.
“It did.” Harry confirms, collapsing back onto the bench. Draco scrambles to the other side, snatching the broom back from the elder Weasley’s. He looks ready to hiss when the twins try to take it from him to have a look. Harry laughs, transfigures his coffee, spluttering when he takes a sip, and it burns down his throat. Tapping the rim, it cools down to a drinkable temperature. Sighing, he takes another sip then a gulp, getting to his feet and waltzing up to where McGonagall’s seated on her chair at the staff table.
“Mr—”
“Vasaio.” Harry informs, glancing up at McGonagall. The woman nods, leaning forward, adjusting her glass. “For these vocational studies, I assume I can pick whichever ones I like?” McGonagall hums gently, looking Harry firmly in the eyes. Harry stares back.
“Yes, Mr Vasaio. If I were you, I’d take the easy subjects; that way when you take your NEWTs next year, you won’t have much catching up to do.” McGonagall tips her head to the side, hat shifting on her head. Harry’s teeth grind but he aims a sickly sweet smile McGonagall’s way. He knows that the woman is intending to help, but the way she goes about it is like she’s saying Gryffindor’s cannot be brave and smart, just like Slytherin’s cannot be brave, just evil.
“Thank you, Professor, but I think I can manage.” Harry tells her. His eyes roam over the blank spaces. “I would like to do Muggle Art, Ancient Runes and Arithmancy.” Harry says, nodding, looking up and into McGonagall’s displeased stare. She sits back, straightening her shoulders and spine before nodding, lips thin.
“Very well.” The parchment in his hand goes abruptly cool. Harry glances down at it, seeing his schedule start shifting, ink transferring over to different places. Harry thanks McGonagall, walking off when she just nods again, not deeming him an answer after his refusal of her suggestion, walking over to the Slytherin table. He’s too busy staring at his schedule, so he doesn’t notice a Gryffindor stick his foot out. Harry gasps, shoulder letting out a sickening crunch at his collides with the floor. A ragged breath escapes his lungs.
“Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry!” A boy with curly blonde hair, exclaims. Harry’s lips go white when the male gets to his feet, pulling him to his feet with his dislocated shoulder. A malicious smirk is on his face now that he’s out of sight from others. His lips brush Harry’s ear. “Watch yourself, traitor.” He breathes. When he pulls back, Harry sees the resemblance to Cormac McLaggen. This must be his father; where McLaggen got his hatred of Slytherin’s from, where he got that bullying wasn’t wrong, just another form of justice.
“Harry.” Charlie’s by his side, placing a hand on his shoulder. Harry cries out, causing Charlie’s eyes to widen before settling on understanding, glaring at McLaggen. “You son of a bitch—”
“Charlie, let’s just go—please.” Charlie leads him further away, nearer to where the marauders are seated. James whispers something to the other three and their eyes go grave. Remus shakes his head. Peter frowns. Sirius just shrugs, glancing at them in interest. Harry stills, stopping. Sweat drips down his back from the pain. He did not think he’d have to deal with a dislocated shoulder so early in the day and year. Leave it to McLaggen to ruin his first proper day back at Hogwarts. “Charlie, you have to put my arm back in place. Right now.”
Charlie frowns, stopping. “Are you sure?”
“Do it.” Harry snarls. Charlie bites his lip, grasping his arm beneath the elbow and the junction between his neck and shoulder. Without warning he twists and shoves, a click breaking through the air. The people around them flinch back in surprise and a little amount of horror. Harry cries out, knees weakening. Charlie’s arms are around him though, lifting him and dragging him back to the Slytherin table where Draco and the others are waiting, Bill ready with a rally of healing spells.
“You need to go the hospital—”
“No hospitals.” Harry snarls out, sounding rabid. Draco sighs.
“Alright, doll, no hospitals, wings or otherwise.” Draco grabs his new broomsticks. “Come on, let’s go back to your dorm.” Draco nods over at Charlie, who grabs Harry by the waist, lifting him, so his weakened knees could better scramble forward towards Gryffindor Tower and back to their dorm room. The marauders hasten to follow, rushing after them. It seems not even their dislike of the groups decision to sit at the Slytherin table could curb their curiosity.
Charlie’s all but carrying him up the stairs, ignoring his disputes that he can walk and that it’s his shoulder that was hurt and not his legs. The marauders are following so closely behind them that it’s almost like he can feel their breathes on the back of his neck. James pokes his head over Harry’s shoulder, squeezing between Harry and Bill, who’s on his right side.
“Don’t mind McLaggen. He’s a dick to everyone.” James says, smiling charmingly.
“He’s a no good bully.” Draco interrupts, reaching up and shoving James back. James wobbles in place, glaring at Draco, who’s intent on ignoring him, leading the way up to Gryffindor Tower now that James isn’t defending McLaggen and getting in Harry’s face to do it. Harry shoots Draco a warning look, a little relieved his father isn’t breathing on his face. Draco ignores him too. James opens his mouth to refute when Draco abruptly turns to face him. “And if you even think about arguing then you’re no better than him. Bullying someone for what house they’re in or what house their friends are in?” Draco scoffs, turning to face the portrait of the Fat Lady, the one they’ve come to a stop in front of. “Preposterous.”
“Big word, that.” Percy shoulders past Draco gently, peering up at the Fat Lady, who’s peering down at them through narrowed eyes. “Godric.” The Fat Lady swings open, complaining all the while as the group enter in twos, walking up the stairs towards Harry’s dorm. Bill heads towards Harry’s trunk, crouching down and turning the latch twice, unlocking it and shoving it open. He peers inside, then throws a leg over the side, disappearing after a moment. Someone in the room gasps but Harry’s too busy trying to ignore the painful ache that comes with his dislocated shoulder being shoved back into place.
When Bill resurfaces, he hands Draco a salve and balm. The salves heal any bruises or lacerations or any general injuries on the outside of the skin that isn’t too fatal. The balm is for anything internal, such as joints and aches. Charlie wrestles him out of his shirt, ignoring Harry groaning at the treatment, opening his mouth to complain when a hiss escapes instead; Draco’s scooped some salve on his fingers, smearing it across his shoulder. The skin around the ache goes numb. Seconds later, Draco’s grabbed some balm and spread it along the joint, rubbing it in until gradually, even the ache is gone. Draco reaches for his wand with the dry hand.
“Scourgify.” The balm and salve are scraped from his skin, dissolving into thin air. Draco then flicks his wand again, casting it on Harry. The balm and salve have immediately seeped into his skin, so the excess gets wiped away by Draco’s wand. Sighing gently, Harry reaches for Draco, squeezing his shoulder in thanks, heading towards his trunk, and spelling the objects back into their places in his trunk, shutting it with a slam. When Harry looks up, the marauders are gaping at him.
“Where’d you get those pastes?” Sirius asks, tilting his head to the side.
“I made them.” Draco takes a step forward, eyeing the marauders with suspicion. The sudden interest must’ve made alarm bells ring in his head, alerting him to the sudden turn about. It’s subtle the way he stands in front of Harry, shielding him, but it makes Harry nudge him with his foot, giving him a disapproving look that Draco ignores. The broom Draco had been gifted by Harry lies abandoned on Harry’s bed, forgotten for the time.
“Oh.” Sirius backs down, so abruptly that Fred and George exchange wary looks, both knowing that pranksters, especially ones as pushy and big as the marauders, would never just back down. And knowing Sirius, even if he’d been twenty years older, was never one to give up with a subtle warning from a Slytherin. In fact, it’d probably make him try to go for them twice as much.
“And?” Draco arches an eyebrow. Sirius turns to face Harry.
“Why were you sitting and talking to Regulus?” Sirius demands, eyes going flinty. Harry looks at him, tilting his head in bewilderment.
“I wasn’t aiming to sit with anyone except my friends. And I don’t even know who you’re talking about.” Harry argues.
“The boy you were sitting next to—that’s Regulus. Why were you talking to him?”
Harry stares at Sirius incredulously. He’d known Sirius was impetuous, but this was just another type of bull headedness that Harry couldn’t be bothered to encourage by continuing to argue with him. “Look, I didn’t know who I was sitting next to. And I didn’t talk to him, he said two sentences to me—was rather rude about it—but I deserved it because I was being an inconsiderate sod by staring but that was it. I wasn’t talking to him. In fact, I think if I made conversation, he would’ve jabbed his wand through my throat.” Harry says, defending himself, ending the conversation with a glare Sirius’s way that makes his mouth snap shut from where he’d opened it to say something.
When Harry turns back to face the others, he finds that they’re all glaring at Sirius for upsetting Harry, no matter how minor it seemed. They all knew that any fighting with Sirius that wasn’t remotely playful was bound to make things worse for Harry, whether that be nightmares or his own personal demons he had to fight. They were protective and weren’t afraid to hex Sirius’s bollocks off, even if they had to go through the marauders to do it.
Sighing, he faces Bill. “Did you get your schedules too?”
“Uh-huh.” Bill hums. “Haven’t spoken about what I’m going to do for my NEWTs to Flitwick yet though. Not entirely sure; I was thinking Curse Breaking but …” Bill trails off, eyeing Harry meaningfully. Harry nods in understanding—Bill had already had his chance to do Curse Breaking in the future and wasn’t sure if he wanted to do it again. He’d done Curse Breaking because it was mentally exhausting and required lots of efforts, which meant he had more excuses not to go back to the Burrow and didn’t have to visit his mother and the two younger siblings, who always tried everything they could to get him in trouble which wasn’t difficult. All they had to do was mention his long hair and Molly would go on a tangent. Now with that expectation off his shoulders, he was free to do what he wanted—the only problem, Bill didn’t know what he wanted.
“What’re you taking, Har?”
“Muggle Arts,” Draco made an approving sound, having seen some of Harry’s sketches, “Ancient Runes and Arithmancy.”
“Fitting.” Percy comments, having retired to Harry’s bed, lounging across it, shooting a smirk their way. Harry smiles widely.
“Why thank you, Perce. Have any idea what you’re taking yet?”
Percy makes a considerate noise. “Well, I cornered Flitwick before you lot came down to breakfast,” the twins snort at the phrase of ‘cornering their professor, “and decided—Fred and George if you don’t stop snickering, I will skin you up by your balls—”
“—kinky—”
“—and I decided to take Alchemy, Advanced Arithmancy and Advanced Ancient Runes.”
Fred and George yacked playfully. “Ravenclaw’s—crazy buggers!” They exclaimed together, looking like they were fearing Percy’s sanity. Percy rolled his eyes whilst Bill playfully exclaimed “hey!” that had them snickering. Harry’s eyes go to Charlie, who begins to tell them without prompting.
“Care of Magickal Creatures, Magickal Theory and Astronomy.” Charlie says. Fred and George eye him but say nothing, unlike with Percy. Percy snorts, spelling things into the air then slicing them before vanishing them, all in quick succession. Harry and the others, used to this, just carry on their conversation whilst the marauders stare with wide eyes at the display.
“And you? Fred? George?” Harry asks.
“Hmm, maybe Pureblood Politics?”
“There’s a class for that?” Draco says, interested. Fred nods.
“We asked Slughorn in the afternoon, after you’d gone up to talk to Harry. He gave us a list. We were surprised to hear that there was a class on such a subject. Are you going to take it?”
“I’m a pureblood.” Draco gives them a look, much like the one Snape used to give Harry—the one was when he thought Harry was being a dunderhead which was pretty much every single second of every day for the whole time Harry had known him. “They’ve always interested me, but my father liked to believe he knew every single little part of the law and the politics. He was a prejudiced, sadistic bully after what his own mother put him through—if you believe it, she was a thousand times worse and was born that way. And with the belief that everything he said was strictly right and that anyone that said different was … well the slur for a muggleborn. It wasn’t right and it took a long time for me to realise that if I’d gone into pureblood politics the way my father had, our family would’ve fallen to disgrace quickly, and I would’ve looked like a complete and utter prat.”
“Your father was a fucking—” Harry’s stopped by Bill clamping a hand over his mouth, shaking his head in fond exasperation.
“Be that as it may, Draco, about your father, are you interested in taking pureblood politics anyhow?”
“Sure am.” Draco nods, sitting down on a random bed, ignoring the way Remus goes pink when Draco tracks their movement to see who’s bed he’s sat on, smirking, and leaning back, skirt fluttering around his thighs, showing creamy skin. Remus’s blush goes even darker and spreads down his neck, elbowing James when he starts snickering at Remus’s predicament. Harry snorts, shaking his head, taking off his outer cloak and throwing it over Draco’s legs. Draco pouts.
“Stop teasing my roommates.”
“But it’s so fun!” Draco sends him a leer. Harry shakes his head again, eyes shooting towards Bill when he twitches, smacking a hand to his forehead.
“You’ve just reminded me by talking about pureblood politics. We have to go to Gringotts’s. I know that Harry definitely needs to claim his Lordship and that one of us has an Heirship we need to claim.” Bill tells them. Harry hums in thought, lips thinning. His teeth gnaw into his bottom lips after a long moment as he spins, pacing the length of the room. Percy stops throwing things in the air to watch him, rolling onto his side, propping his head up on his hand.
“So, we need to get to Gringotts, but I doubt we can go without supervision. Which of the Head of Houses will let us go without supervision if we tell them we’re emancipated?” Harry asks the others. Charlie winces.
“The only one I can think of is Slughorn.” The others eyes shoot towards Harry, all knowing how much the male disliked Slughorn. Being treated like an item in a long list of trophies wasn’t fun to experience and Slughorn hadn’t been willing to let Harry slip through his fingers—no, he was too valuable to the Head of Slytherin. Harry suffers through a sigh.
“Fine, but I’m not dealing with him.”
Draco rolls his eyes, collapsing back against Remus’s bed sheets, groaning a little as he shifts. “I will, you wimp. Morgana, I thought you were a Gryffindor.”
“But I was almost a Slytherin, which means I know when to pick my battles. And this … this is not one I shall win.” Harry snarks, smirking when Draco lurches up from his lying position to simply glare at him for the cheek. “Besides, you’re the spokesperson of this group, not me.”
“You’re the leader!” Draco snaps. Charlie covers a laugh with his hand when Harry staggers back, clutching at his chest.
“Nonsense, Draco.” Harry reaches for the object that Percy’s taken to throwing in the air when it veers off course, almost smacking Sirius in the face. The male flinches back, eyes wide when Harry’s hand shoots out, scooping it out of the air before throwing it back at Percy with a warning look at him to be more careful. Snorting, Percy heads the order, taking to fiddling with the object instead.
He glances at the marauders, surprised to find that James is staring at him with a calculating look on his face.
“You ever play Quidditch before, Vasaio?”
“Are you kidding?” Draco bursts out, giggling a little when Harry’s cheeks go pink, knowing ultimately what Draco’s going to say. “Harry was born to fly on a broom. In the air it’s where he’s most comfortable; add that and a snitch, he could live up there if he didn’t need necessities like sleep, food, and water.”
“Hmm,” James hums thoughtfully, “try outs are on the weekends. Sunday. 8am, sharp. Be there.” James instructs. Harry blinks rapidly, turning to face the others to see if they’re watching the same thing he is or if it’s a hallucinating from the salves and pain. Draco smirks, nodding as the others chuckle at the dumbfounded look on Harry’s face.
“Shit, class.” Remus gasps suddenly, grabbing his bag, rushing out to where Draco is, leaning over him. Remus ignores the male’s squeak as he throws aside his pillow, snapping up his wand and rushing out of the door, bag thrown hastily over his shoulder. Peter rushes after him, adapting to the situation quickly, grabbing Sirius and dragging him alongside him, knowing Sirius liked to sneak away sometimes, especially early in the year. “Gotta go, gotta go.” They can still hear Remus before he’s gone, and no noise comes from him anymore, that they can hear at least.
Sirius pops his head back into the room when a few seconds have passed and James still hasn't moved from his place staring at the others. “Jamie, come on before Moony has cardiac arrest and misses the first class of the year.” When James hesitates, glancing over his shoulder at the others, he huffs. “James, come on. I’m not explaining to Moony you missed class because you were too busy ogling the new student over his imaginary Quidditch try outs that haven’t happened yet. Come on.” Sirius urges, clapping James on the shoulder when he arrives at his side and dragging him out of the room and down the stairs.
“I speak for everyone,” Charlie speaks seconds later when they can no longer hear the marauders footsteps, tone full of amusement, “when I say what the fuck just happened?”
Ten minutes later, the twins are still cackling at Harry’s dumbfounded look.
🍺⚡💥
They’re late to class. They try to get there in time, but Draco had forgotten his schedule back in the Great Hall and since he was a Slytherin and more viable to get more points taken off due to the teachers, they just decided to go down together and get it, George and Fred tagging along for the hell of it. Percy, Charlie, and Bill split off to their own respective classes since their first class is Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff combined. Once they’ve retrieved the schedule, they head down to the dungeon, finding most of the students waiting outside.
It seems Slughorn’s running late as well. Whilst they’re waiting, Draco examines their schedules, the four huddling together to compare them. They seem to have DADA classes together, as well as Potions together along with whatever vocational classes they decided to do for their NEWT’s paired together.
For Harry’s schedule there’s a lot of Double’s that he knows is going to drain him. But then again, NEWT’s were supposed to be draining he supposed. His schedules went like this:
On Monday, he had:
Double Potions with Professor Slughorn;
With Slytherin’s at 9:00-11:00.
A free period at 11:00-12:00.
Lunch at 12:00-1:00.
History of Magic with Professor Binns;
With a mix of houses at 1:00-2:00.
Double Charms with Professor Flitwick;
With Ravenclaw’s at 2:00-4:00.
On Tuesday, he had:
Muggle Arts with Professor Burbage;
With a mix of houses at 9:00-10:00.
Double Ancient Runes with Professor Sinistra;
With a mix of houses at 10:00-12:00.
Lunch at 12:00-1:00.
Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall;
With Hufflepuff at 1:00-2:00.
Arithmancy with Professor Vector;
With a mix of houses at 2:00-3:00.
On Wednesday, he had:
Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Merrythought;
With Slytherin’s at 9:00-10:00.
History of Magic with Professor Binns;
With a mix of houses at 10:00-11:00.
Free period at 11:00-12:00.
Lunch at 12:00-1:00.
Herbology with Professor Sprout;
With Hufflepuff at 1:00-2:00
On Thursday, he had:
Double Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall;
With Hufflepuff at 9:00-10:00.
Arithmancy with Professor Vector;
With a mix of houses at 11:00-12:00.
Lunch at 12:00-1:00.
Muggle Arts with Professor Burbage;
With a mix of houses at 1:00-2:00.
Double Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Merrythought;
With Slytherin at 2:00-4:00.
And finally on Friday, he had:
History of Magic with Professor Binns;
With a mix of houses at 9:00-10:00.
Double Herbology with Professor Sprout;
With Hufflepuff at 10:00-12:00.
Lunch at 12:00-1:00.
Potions with Professor Slughorn;
With Slytherin’s at 1:00-2:00.
Charms with Professor Flitwick;
With Ravenclaw at 2:00-3:00.
“Unfair.” Draco grumbles, examining Harry’s schedule more thoroughly than the others. “You’ve got two free periods on Monday and Wednesday; you could go in the library or go flying on the pitch.”
“You have a free period on Wednesday too.” Harry points out and it seems Draco’s missed that for he grins widely, wiggling his hips a little in excitement, causing the twins to chortle at his behaviour. Harry laughs as well. “And it’s at the same time as me. Wanna go and have a game on the Quidditch Pitch. I’ve got a snitch in my trunk that we can use.”
“Oh, you’re on.” Draco smirks. Harry shoves him away, ignoring his squawk as he stumbles, right into another figure, causing their books and bag to go smashing to the floor, ink pot bursting into pieces and soaking his potion book. Harry recognises it right away—the book belonging to the Half-Blood Prince he’d used all through sixth year, the one that contained the spell that’d almost killed Draco. The hallway full of students burst into mocking laughter at the sight as Severus sinks to his knees, cheeks going red and ears pink. The marauders are laughing the hardest, Sirius and James leaning on each other, Peter leaning on Remus whilst the werewolf grimaces to himself. Lily is standing with her friends—Mary, Dorcas and Maureen—and is resolutely ignoring Severus as he picks up his stuff, inhaling sharply at the sight of ink seeping into his book, opening and sighing when he finds its completely ruined.
“Shit, sorry.” Harry and Draco rush to help, causing the whole corridor to go abruptly silent. Harry holds out items to Draco, letting the Slytherin clean them of ink and spell it back into the pot after Harry’s mended it. They work through the books slowly, handing them to Fred and George so they can place them in a bag they’ve summoned. It was a spare one they had lying around. It’s clear Severus couldn’t afford one, so he’d just been carrying them around on his arm and in his pocket.
Once they’re finished, Harry hands off the bag to Severus, watching as he takes it warily and a bit in surprise.
“Sorry, that was my fault.” Harry apologises. Severus stares at him for a long moment before he wets his cracked lips and gives a hesitant glance at Draco, eyes going slightly widened as he notes what the blondes’ wearing, cheeks going pink.
“Uh, it’s n-no problem. It’s f-fine. It was just an a-accident, right?” Severus shrugs awkwardly, eyes connecting with Draco’s grey. Draco smiles softly, blushing. Draco extends a hand.
“Draco Altair.” He introduces himself, making Severus’s eyes go wide when Draco leans down, eyes on Severus’s as he kisses the back of his knuckles. Harry nudges him away, taking his place and shaking his still extended hand.
“Harry Vasaoi, nice to meet you.”
Severus’s eyes go wary when they see his Gryffindor tie. “Severus Snape.”
“I’d be careful, Vasaio, he calls muggleborns like us ‘Mudblood’s’.” Lily Evans calls, flicking her hair over her shoulder. Harry turns to face her, arching an eyebrow at her, causing her to go pink at the attention.
“Oh, really, Miss … what’s your name?”
“Evans, Lily Evans.” Lily squares her shoulders, glaring defiantly at him. Harry hums softly, turning to face Severus.
“And why did you call Miss Evans a mudblood, Severus?” Severus looks shocked at being asked for his account.
“Uh, I—well, Lily … hadn’t intervened.” Then he shrugs again, face going even pinker at the attention. “She was watching when some Gryffindor’s suspended me in the air and pulled my trousers and underwear down. It … uh, most of the school was watching.” Severus bites his lower lip, fingers tightening around the strap of his new bag.
“I thought they’d let you go.” Lily bursts out. “I didn’t think they’d take it that far—”
“They always do, Lily. Always.” Severus turns his face away, hiding it from the rest of the corridor. Harry’s eyes snap to the marauders, glaring darkly at them. They gulp at whatever face he’s sporting.
“Right.” Harry says. “Potter, I don’t think I will sign up for Quidditch. I hate bullies.” He spits it, causing them the male in question to flinch back.
“Oi,” Sirius interjects, glaring back at him, “Jamie ain’t a bully.”
“No?” Harry counters, turning and ignoring Sirius completely. When he faces Severus, he finds the male staring at him in surprise, though there’s a small amount of fear, probably thinking of the many times he’d trusted a Gryffindor in the past and they’d turned their backs of him. “I’m hoping you went to the teachers and filed a case of sexual assault—”
“Sexual assault?” Lily squawks in alarm. “I don’t think it was that serious!”
“They physically took the time to take his pants off, Evans.” Harry snaps back—he doesn’t think he’d ever forgive his mother for standing back and watching, only half-heartedly going against the marauders when it truly counted. Sure, she’d intervened and spelled back most of the time, but the one time Severus actually needed it? Was defenceless? Lily had blended into the background and left her supposed ‘best friend’ to the marauders mercy. “They showed his private parts to most of Hogwarts, showed him basically naked. Without fucking consent. It was sexual assault. Yes, Evans, it is that serious.”
“And Evans?” Draco says, eyeing her with disdain. “I called Harry a mudblood when I was twelve,” the corridor inhales sharply in surprise collectively when he says that, “and Harry’s forgiven me.”
“It’s just a word.” Harry rolls his eyes back. “My mother was muggleborn and she was said to be one of the smartest witches in her year. Blood doesn’t make a goddamn difference in the grand scheme of things. Severus only called you a Mudblood after he was in duress and humiliated whilst you watched and didn’t help. Merlin and Morgana, I thought you were supposed to be in the house of the brave and courageous, Evans? Don’t have enough courage to stop some bullies and stop your friend from being scarred for life by that incident?” Harry watches Lily open and close her mouth, eyes filling with tears.
James puffs up. “Don’t talk to her like that!”
“I will, Potter.” Harry snarls back. “You and your ruddy group are nothing but stupid bullies. You’re no better than the supposed ‘slimy snakes of Slytherin’ you so bully.” Harry uses air quotes, which causes Fred and George to grumble half-heartedly.
“You were almost a Slytherin as well, Har.” Draco reminds him, cutting into the conversation. Harry sighs as the twins giggle.
“And some Gryffindor’s were almost Slytherin’s too.” Harry tracts on, ignoring the trio that giggle together now instead of just the twins. Without looking, Harry reaches for his wand and flicks it, making all three of them yelp at the stinging charms that land on their asses. Snickering now, Harry avoids the three jinxes that the Slytherin’s send him, stumbling into the twins and staying leant against Fred, breathing in slowly.
“The point is,” Draco carries on in his absence, “is that houses don’t matter. So, fuck you all. Except Severus—but only cause you’re pretty.” Severus scoffs, but his ears are red and there’s a small smile on his face now. Harry sighs exasperatedly as Fred and George snicker at Draco’s smug smirk.
“Draco, please, we’ve talked about this. Just because he’s pretty—”
“I’m pretty and you don’t see me acting like a dick.” Draco refutes, eyeing Harry when he just bursts into laughter.
“Shall I give you a list—cause I have one. First year, you challenged me to a duel and then never turned up. So much for pureblood pride. You insulted my friend, the twins little brother—”
“Who turned out to be a bully and a twat anyway!” Draco interrupts, blush rising steadily on his cheek as the twins laugh, dissolving into wheezing as Harry breezes on like he hasn’t heard Draco’s objection.
“You went to my Head of House to get me into trouble. We ended up serving detention together, you twit, because it was after curfew. Second year, you were just a general dick. Third year, you purposely didn’t listen to a teacher to get him fired and tried to get the Headmaster booted off as well which I admit, wasn’t all that bad, he was an asshole as well, but it’s the principle. Fourth year, you made Vasaio stinks badges—”
“I earned a fortune with that.” Draco bursts out into laughter. Harry grins a little.
“Anyways, you can be pretty and still be a massive asshole.” Harry says just as Slughorn rounds the corner, the rest of the corridor still looking between the duo with wide eyes like it’s a muggle tennis game. He looks rushed, harried as he almost stumbles down to the end of the hall, unlocking the room and hastily shooing them inside.
“Eight to a table! Eight to a table!” Slughorn calls throughout the room. Harry glances around. Instead of Snape, where he’d had one long table to two, Slughorn has it so that multiple tables are pushed together for more people to be crammed atop it. If it was Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw together, Slughorn probably would’ve had a four to a table since not many students get sorted into those two houses. Whereas Slytherin and Gryffindor are the more popular houses, more talked about, loathe as Harry was to admit it.
“Severus, you’re coming with us.” Draco links his arm with Severus, all but dragging him, not unwilling at least, to the table near the front. There’re four tables for eight students each, two at the front, two at the back, with space in between. It’s almost like the tables have been pushed into the four separate corners with room enough for the Professor to walk between them.
“We’re going to go join the other Slytherin’s, Har.” Fred says, dragging George off to where Narcissa’s sitting. She glances at them then turns her nose up. Lucius’s is sitting to the side of her and eyes the two Slytherin’s warily. More students Harry doesn’t recognise are sitting with them. There’s a sharp inhale coming from his left and when Harry glances to the side, he sees the marauders take the seats on their table, Lily perching herself down on the seat next to Harry. Her friends give her apologetic looks, but she waves them off, sighing.
“You sabotage mine or Severus’s potion, marauders, and I’ll snitch to Slughorn. Harry will back me up.” Draco’s glare cuts to the four of them, positively daring them to object. The marauders send glances to Harry who just lets an eyebrow arch, smirk pulling up his lips.
“How do we know you won’t sabotage ours?” Peter asks. Harry clears his throat, dragging their attention back to him when it’d gone to Draco.
“Because we’re decent human beings? Because we’d be focusing on our own potions? Speaking of, Draco, you need to help me with potions. I’m gonna fail!” Harry whines lowly, practically hissing the words and sending a wide, fake smile at Slughorn when he waltzed past, starting to call names. Draco snickers, leaning closer.
“You really are the worst. Fine. I’ll help you in potions, you help me in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Deal?”
Harry threads his pinkie through Draco’s and gives it a little shake. “Deal—ah, here, sir!” Harry turns to look at Slughorn over his shoulder, who’s eyes focus on him for a moment before dismissing him completely. Harry breathes a sigh of relief. Despite being in the past, there’s still a slight fear of someone recognising him and blurting his name out to the rest of the world. Then they’d start treating him like an anomaly, like something strange, singling him out once more.
“Harry, Harry—Harry!” Draco snaps his fingers in Harry’s face, prompting him to start, turning to stare at Draco. The others are staring at him, some having started their potions. Severus is cutting up some ingredients, glancing up every now and then. “I called your name about a million times. Where’d you go?”
Harry shakes his head. “Nowhere, just thinking.”
“Huh, didn’t know you could think.” Draco teases, nudging him gently. Underneath the table, his ankle curls around Harry’s, causing him to take a big, deep breath, sending a small, reserved smile Draco’s way. “Anyways, before you get sappy on me, I bought you your potion ingredients and wrote down the ingredients and instructions for you in precise and more broken down steps. Call me over if it’s gone wrong, hopefully we’ll be able to fix it.” Draco says. Lily huffs at his side.
“Or I could just look and help.”
“Did Harry ask you too, Evans?” Draco asks, tilting his head to the side. Lily flushes.
“Well, no, but it’s the right thing to do!”
“But it’s unwanted. Unasked. Unwarranted when he’s already got help in front of him. He’s not a baby to be coddled … much.” Harry chuckles, low and smooth before starting to cut up some ingredients. He takes a glance at the top of the potion list and blanches. Then he groans. “What?” Draco asks, glancing over his notes before making an understanding noise. “Ah, right, amortentia.”
“What’s wrong with it?” Severus asks, piping up from Draco’s other side.
“Well, Harry’s had the unfortunate time of being dosed by it. Lost a few weeks to it before we managed to intervene. Add that to kidnapping and attempted—well, sex. But, no matter how much the chit tried, Harry just couldn’t get it up.” It takes a second but then Harry bursts out laughing, placing the knife down before he ends up cutting himself.
“Sounds about right.” He chokes out, thinking back onto sixth year where he’d kissed Ginerva randomly in the common room. Then seventh year, after the war had ended and Ginerva had ended up kidnapping him and forcing him to stay in the same room for two weeks straight, dosed, and high on love potions. He’d ended up in St Mungo’s for a while due to an almost overdose where he’d almost died before being forced on the run after the others had seen he wasn’t as easily controlled and compliant, starting to see through their plans.
Draco snickers as well, dumping something that looks slimy into the cauldron. It’s on a low heat but with a flick of his wand and whispered incantation, the flame rises. Harry dumps the same slimy ingredient into his cauldron, not having to raise the flame because Draco does it for him.
“I thought he wasn’t to be coddled like a baby.” Lily snaps, glaring at Draco. Draco’s eyebrows rise.
“No, he’s not. But Evans, unlike you, I am Harry’s friend. Sometimes he doesn’t need to ask. Plus, he’s forgetful and I hadn’t put any heat changing notes on the paper.” Harry glances down, finding that Draco actually hadn’t. He knows it’s because Draco had been waiting for Harry to get to the same stage as him so that he could change the temperature on both, so that they were on the same page. Then if Harry had gone wrong, it’d be easier to fix since he wasn’t ten steps ahead and didn’t have to think back to whatever step Harry was on. Something warm furls in his stomach. Draco winks at him when his eyes fall back onto the blonde.
“Stop being so mean.” Harry chides gently. Draco pouts but does stop trying to rile Lily up. It dissolves into silence for a long moment before Draco scoffs, grumbling something to himself, ignoring the looks from the others. Harry sighs, double checking he’s cut up his ingredients right before slinging them into the potion. He knows Draco’s still thinking about the betrayal of Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. “Draco, stop it. It happened ages ago. No need to dwell on the past.”
Draco slams his knife onto the chopping block abruptly, breathing heavily. “She didn’t even get arrested.” Draco hisses, squeezing his eyes shut. “For two fucking weeks she had you, Harry. Two bloody weeks. Bill stopped sleeping just to look for you. It was bloody hell. And she got off scott-free because she was a light witch.”
“I know.” Harry murmurs soothingly. “But shouting something isn’t going to change how things went that day. Least of all in Potions and I know that with my track record you think I’d like getting detention but I really, really don’t, so calm down and take a deep breath. You need to finish your potion and help me because I’m terrible.” Harry says slowly, like he’s talking to an angry, scared, cornered animal. Draco stares at him for a long moment, nostrils flaring before he nods and picks the knife back up, cutting through the ingredients again. After a moment, he stops and groans.
“Bloody things—”
“Here.” Severus moves the cutting board and starts slicing until what looked choppy previously turning much more smooth and even with the other cut ingredients. Draco watches Severus work. Once he’s finished, he turns to glance at Draco, seeing how close they are, practically a hair breadth away from each other and flushes darkly. Clearing his throat, he takes a step back. “Sorry.”
“No, you’re fine. Thanks.” Then Draco darts forward, kissing Severus on the cheek, turning back to the potion before he can see the males reaction. Severus’s pale cheeks flush almost violently from how red they get.
Ten minutes later, Severus is corking a vial of his potion, going up to the front desk to place it there, where there’s a holder for all the vials. He flicks his wand, label wrapping around the outside before heading back to his seat. Draco watches him, eyes darting away when Severus turns in their directions, eyes automatically seeking out Draco. Harry snickers at his friends plight, whipping around when there’s a loud rumble coming from someone’s potion.
“Fuck.” Sirius gasps, stumbling back as the potion explodes. It would’ve spread all over his skin if Harry hadn’t materialised by his side, shielding Sirius. He wraps his arms around him, tugging him into his chest, tucking his head under his chin. Harry’s magic whips out, protecting the others without thought as the erupted potion lands on his skin, burning his flesh. Sizzling greets his ears and Harry’s surprised to realise that the low gasping is coming from him. Taking a step back, Harry extracts himself from Sirius and looks into the males surprised eyes.
“Mr Black! Are you alright?”
Sirius blinks, turning to face Slughorn, nodding dazedly. “I’m alright. Vasaio shielded me.”
“Fucking idiot!” Draco snarls, practically shaking with fear as he grabs his bag, sticking his whole arm in, tugging it out to reveal the burn cream, opening it and slathering it on Harry’s skin. Almost immediately, the pain numbs, and the third degree burns heal beneath his eyes. Another invention of Draco’s, he supposes.
“Where did you get that?” Slughorn asks, coming forward, eyes sparkling with glee. Harry rolls his eyes as Draco lifts his chin, sniffing a little. It looks way too much like his old eleven-year-old self for Harry to find it intimidating or serious. The rest of the class do though for they shy away, Slughorn included before coming back around for the answer.
“I made it.” Draco says, doing up the jar and shoving it back into his bag. He shoots Harry a mutinous glare. “Because some people couldn’t stop burning themselves.”
Harry rolls his eyes, watching as the burns finish healing until nothing but white scars remain, some of the many on his skin.
“I know. Charlie is such a klutz sometimes.” Fred and George snicker as Draco grabs his bag, using it to thump Harry on the shoulder. Harry gasps before dissolving into laughter, heading back to his potion, and taking a peek inside. It seems to be doing okay. He swoops lower to take a sniff, tilting his head. It doesn’t smell burnt. Draco appears at his shoulder, peering inside Harry’s cauldron, humming softly.
“It seems to be doing okay. You need to let it simmer on low heat for two more minutes then stir counter clockwise ten times, then clockwise twice before another ten in the opposite direction. Got it?” Harry nods distractedly, peering over at Draco’s. The male’s potion is bubbling softly. When the air bubbles pop, it lies flat, a nice pink pearl colour. Draco leans forward, taking a long sniff before lurching back, eyes darting to Severus then away, cheeks going bright red.
“We all know what your love smells like.” Harry jokes, stepping closer to take a whiff of the amortentia. He pauses, leaning closer to breathe in more thoroughly. Draco grabs his arm, pulling him back.
“Be careful. You can get drunk off the fumes.” Draco pauses, chancing a look at Harry’s confused eyes. “What does it smell like?”
“Fresh leather, hairspray, dark chocolate and … like wet grass … and I think—dog hair?” Harry whispers the last part, realising who he’s talking about. Draco gasps, hand snapping to Harry’s wrist.
“You don’t think …?”
“No, it can't be …” Harry whispers back frantically, glancing at the marauders, seeing them staring at him and Draco in curiosity. His eyes fall on the Grimm animagus, who's head is tilted curiously, eyes focused on Harry's green ones. James is glaring a bit, likely still upset over how Harry talked to Lily in the corridor and the refusal to join the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Then Harry looks to Lily, who’s leaning forward to eavesdrop before darting away when she sees Harry looking, clearing her throat, and corking a phial of her potion, heading up to the front desk. “Just no.”
“Harry …” Draco trails off as Harry heads back to his potion, beginning to stir it. after he’s finished, he places the ladle back on the desk and watches as his potion turns a pink pearl colour. He corks a phial, spelling it unbreakable then putting his name down. Dropping it off on Slughorn’s desk, he heads back over to their table, releasing a long breath out of his nose.
Ten minutes later, Slughorn is calling for the class to end, telling them to put a sample of their potion into a phial for him to review, which everyone does. Remus’s amortentia is a darker pink than normal, which he looks stumped and disappointed by. Peter’s is a pale lavender, just one step away from finishing and James is a light yellow colour. Sirius, despite his potions mishap, has also got a pale lavender like Peter, having able to save some of his potion and fix it from there. Sighing, Harry grabs his bag and exits the classroom with Draco, Fred, and George by his side.
“I have a healing class with Pomfrey in the Healing Wing.” Draco says, nodding to them when they part, heading up the stairs. Harry makes his way to the library, the twins following after him.
“You two have a free period?” Harry glances at them. Fred nods but George shakes his head.
“I’ve got Alchemy in like … half an hour?” George pauses before nodding. Harry hums softly, taking a seat at one of the tables in the library, glancing at the twins once before looking at the table top, sighing once more.
“Guys … I think I might be in love with Sirius.”