Harry's POV

I awoke early the next morning to the sound of the dormitory door closing with a quiet creaking sound; Malfoy leaving, I guessed. It was probably so he didn't have to confront me about last night. I glanced at the clock on my bedside table.

It read 7:30am. Perfect.

I realised suddenly that I didn't have a headache. I'd drank enough of that dodgy drink to be at least a little hungover, but I felt nothing whatsoever. My thoughts had been so fragmented last night; I could barely recall anything after the third round of Scrabble against Blaise.

For some reason, I had a very clear image of those blazing silver eyes I'd been glancing at a lot recently. 

I wondered suddenly; had I spent any time looking at Malfoy last night? I wouldn't remember if I had, but the thought was chilling.

I stretched as I stared at the ceiling, pondering the events of last night. I hadn't known Malfoy got nightmares, but then, I guess I'd never really thought about it. He always acted so in control and on top of everything, who would have guessed?

I stood up and made my way to the bathroom to get a shower before going down to breakfast. I wondered if we'd be sitting with our usual houses, or if that would have changed too.

 'Probably not.' I reasoned, 'That's too much hassle just for one year to sit separately from the rest.'

I finished drying my body and caught sight of myself in the mirror. I remembered seeing the same image; around a foot shorter and pale as chalk seven years ago. How times had changed.

I got dressed quickly, having managed to waste half an hour so far. My mind wandered as I put on my uniform.

It felt great to be back, just as it always did, but some things had been stolen from me in a way I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to explain. 

The horrors I'd seen, defending this school and its students, still plagued me. I doubted I'd ever be able to look at the castle the same way ever again.

That terrified me more than anything.

This place, Hogwarts, was my escape. Sure, it was school, which meant there were exams and annoying sods like Malfoy and strict teachers and homework, but this place was my home.

I'd been able to get away from my bloody Uncle and Aunt for most of the year, been able to grow up without being treated like an inferior creature every second of the day.

Hell, if it wasn't for Hogwarts, I'd probably still be in that fucking cupboard under the stairs.

At the thought I glared down at the floor. Enough. I couldn't dwell on this now, not on my first day of class.

If I was ever going to truly put the war behind me, first of all I had to put it as far back into my mind as I could. 

Something told me that wouldn't be quite as easy as I was hoping. 

------

The Great Hall was crowded as I made my way in, and after a quick scan, found myself a space beside Ron and across from Hermione.

Malfoy sat almost directly across from me, staring furiously down at his food as if it had insulted his family. I smirked at that, looking away and back to my friends.

Ron looked bedraggled and still half asleep. I supposed I looked pretty much the same as him. Hermione though, was practically bursting with excitement. She had a stack of three books piled up beside her for our first class and a fourth propped open on her lap, reading as she ate.

Potions of course. What better way to start the school year?

Hooray for me.

I stabbed the bacon on my plate with my fork, chewing thoughtfully.

There'd be a new teacher this year. It wasn't like Snape could take the class anymore.

I wasn't really sure how I felt about Snape. Sure, he'd redeemed himself at the end, but did that make up for seven years of insults, and being an arse towards his students? No. It didn't.

I still hated the slimy git, regardless of his help at the end. Just because he'd been obsessed with my mother didn't mean he could take her rejecting him before I'd even been born out on me.

I shook my head. I wouldn't think of that now, not when there was a new teacher. Maybe this year would be better, Surely the teacher couldn't be worse - was that even possible?

That reminded me.

"Ron, any idea who's the new Potions teacher is?" I asked him.

"Not a bloody clue. I'll ask the genius." He relayed the question to Hermione after swallowing the food in his mouth. He leaned right in close to ask her because she was speaking that quietly.

Hermione did that sometimes when she was reading. She just became so absorbed in her book that she seemed to be in another world altogether.

 I smiled to myself at that. 'One thing that would never change: Hermione and her books.'

Ron leaned back a few moments later. "She says her name's Professor Trome." He frowned, "Odd name, that." He furrowed his brow for a minute in contemplation of this new information, and then started shovelling food into his mouth again.

"Yeah, sounds weird," I agreed, twisting my fork through my own food.

"D'you think she'll be like Snape?" Ron asked.

"Hopefully not. He was a bloody nightmare." Just the thought of Snape made me dread Potions again, even though he was dead. The feeling still lingered.

"Wonder if she knows what he was like, I mean, d'you think she was told?"

"Probably not. They wouldn't want another one like him." I laughed. He joined in.

We made small talk for the rest of breakfast, then made our way to our first class.

------

The teacher hadn't arrived yet as I sat down in Potions, picking a desk closer to the back of the room.

Ron and Hermione sat together in front of me. Hermione was frantically ensuring that Ron and I had the right books and was filling us in on what we should already know.

Surprisingly enough, we had Potions with the Slytherins again. Just my luck, I suppose.

I glanced sidelong at Malfoy. He was at the front of the classroom, beside Blaise with Pansy at the desk to his left. His hair was gelled back as per usual, his robes devoid of creases and sitting effortlessly on his slim frame.

Wait....what the fuck?

When had I noticed all that?

I flicked my eyes away from Malfoy. I really had to stop looking at him. There was no reason to anymore, so why did I keep doing it? I needed a distraction - now.

"'Mione, any ideas where the teacher is ?" I asked her, rubbing my temples in an attempt to calm myself.

She turned around in her seat, rolling her eyes as if I'd asked her the difference between casting Accio and Alohomora. "Harry, I may be clever, but I can't read minds or tell the future. How should I know? If I had to guess, I'd say she's just running late." She turned back around and buried herself in her book once again.

Ron spun in his seat. "How you feeling mate?" He asked, catching me by surprise.

"Erm, uh, fine, yeah. Why d'you ask?"

"You've just looked a bit under the weather recently. You sure you're fine?" He questioned.

It was nice to know that someone had noticed, but I doubted Ron would understand if I told him my thoughts. More than that, I didn't want him worrying about me. "Yeah, course mate, I'm great!" I forced a small smile, trying to make it look as genuine as possible. 

He seemed to buy it and was about to say something else when the door creaked open.

The teacher had arrived.

My eyes widened as the door creeped shut and she swept into the room, her heels clicking softly on the stone floor. Her eyes were black pits in her head, one of them sliced through with a massive scar. She had short, black hair that came down to her chin and looked clean; the exact opposite of Snape's grease pan excuse for hair. Her robes were neat and creaseless, arms folded easily across her chest.

I hadn't seen her at the Feast yesterday. Maybe she'd been late to that too? Then again, I hadn't really looked at the table very intently, so maybe she had been there after all.

She surveyed the room silently. No one uttered a word. I found the silence kinda chilling actually, almost forced.

What must have been a few minutes later, she spoke. "Hello students. I am Professor Trome. I am taking over from your previous Potions teacher and first of all I would like to tell you how I operate. No student will be sitting alone. You will all need a partner for the majority of what we are going to be doing within this room." She eyed me and Pansy, the only two sitting alone. "Boy at the back, that means that you will come down here to sit with this girl." She paused again, waiting for me to move.

My lucky day! Sitting next to Pansy.

So much for a good start.

I gathered my stuff and walked down to the front, seating myself to the left of her. I felt Malfoy's eyes on me, could see the smirk on Pansy's face. Strangely, neither said anything, not even a muttered sarcastic quip.

Then, Trome started up again.

"This year will be particularly testing for you all. We will be dealing with complex Potions that require a careful hand and a lot of work. Our first potion will be a watered down version of Veritaserum that does not require to be left for twenty eight days. You will find the ingredients on your desk. Work with your partner and decide who will take the serum. Begin!" She turned in a flurry, flicking her wand as she did so. 

The grey covers that had partly coated each desk suddenly flew off and zipped away, revealing a scroll with the instructions written within it in elegant slanted writing and a pile of ingredients.

Pansy shot me a look. "Oh goody! I get to work with Potter. You'll be taking the potion, Scarface. And you'll help me make it. Try not to blow up the cauldron though, would you?" She stared icily at me, then took the scroll from my hands and began.

If I wanted to be on peaceful grounds with Malfoy, I guess I'd have to put up with Pansy too. I bit back my retort and added water to the cauldron. It seemed to take years to start simmering. I just hoped the rest of the class would pass quickly. 

------

A while later, Pansy scooped the potion out into a beaker using a ladle. It was completely clear, easily mistakable for water, and smelled peaceful if anything.

Trome looked over the classroom with her beady black eyes. She sat behind her desk like a panther waiting for the right opportunity to pounce. Noticing that we had all finished she cleared her throat, "Now, one of you from each pair, take the potion. Those who don't take it will ask the other a single question to ensure success. Remember, this is a watered down version, meaning you will only have enough time to ask one or two questions under its effects. Begin." She went back to observing us. 

I picked the beaker up off of the table and downed the whole thing in one. It tasted of almost nothing; like water. There was a slight pinch of something sweet, but I couldn't place it.

I swallowed the potion, not feeling different at all.

 Immediately, Pansy asked me a question, "What's your deal with Draco?"

Of course, I should have expected that. I spoke without wanting to, almost as if I wasn't in control of my own words, "I'm fed up with being enemies. I want to be his friend. I don't think he's as bad a person as he tries to make everyone believe." I gasped for breath at the end of it, feeling as if I couldn't breathe at all.

Pansy's eyebrows had shot up, and her eyes gleamed maliciously. "D'you find Draco hot?" She asked. 

I could see Draco blushing deeply from the corner of my eye as I struggled with how to answer.

Honestly, I didn't even know if I did. I wasn't gay, right? I liked Cho, and Ginny. 

I couldn't be gay! 

But Malfoy, he's enchanting; enticing in a way that was completely unlike how I'd felt for Ginny, and yet just as strong. Was that what it was to like a guy? No. Surely not. It wasn't the same emotion in the slightest. 

  It seemed as if the potion didn't know how to answer either. I didn't speak straight away. "He's alright really. I wouldn't say hot. I'm not gay." I blurted. Luckily the room was too filled with other people's chatter to hear my answer.

Wait. Was it just me, or did Malfoy look crestfallen. His eyes looked hurt, sad. What the hell? What was wrong with him? I flicked my eyes away from him again took a breath. I wonder what Blaise must have said to get him to react like that.

'But, if it was Blaise who had said it, why was he looking at me?'

~~~~~~

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