The First Potions Class
Harry couldn't decide whether he was excited or nervous. On the one hand, he was ready for potions this time around. On the other hand, he remembered Snape last time around. That thought brought back memories from the last battle. He suddenly saw Snape struggling to breathe, telling him to look into the older man's eyes. His breath quickened and he felt like he was reliving the moment he dropped into the pensieve to look into the potion master's memories, feeling the despair and the fear as he watched Snape accuse Dumbledore of raising him "like a lamb for the slaughter".
"You okay?" Draco whispered to him as he began to hyperventilate. He turned to look at the blond and noticed the concern in the boy's eyes. Strange, Harry thought, wouldn't have thought Malfoy could care enough about what happened to me to be concerned. Harry nodded, putting on the brave "Boy-Who-Lived" mask that he hated so much. Draco looked at him disbelievingly.
Harry tried to get him to believe he was fine. He even went to doodling on his parchment, but he could feel the eyes of the Malfoy heir bearing into his soul. He sighed.
"I'm fine, Drake." Harry replied in a hushed tone. The Malfoy heir would not relent in his unbelieving stare. He looked back and forth to see the room filling up quickly. "Fine, I'll tell you after class, 'kay?" The blond nodded in understanding and turned back around to face the front of the class.
Very soon, Snape burst into the classroom. He walked over and gave his first of the year speech. Harry wrote down the basics, as he did the last time. Snape singled him out during roll call, again, and he actually flinched when the professor called him a "celebrity". However, this time he was ready for the professor's questions, and Draco was already to write down the questions and answers so he would be ahead when Snape yelled at them.
"Tell me, Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Snape asked. Harry watched Draco write this down, as did Hermione. However, as Draco wrote down this first question, he quickly was taken aback. Not about to question his friend when he had to answer his professor, he ignored it, for now.
"I think that would be Draught of the Living Death, sir." Harry answered.
"And where would I find a bezoar?" His professor questioned.
"Inside the stomach of a goat. It helps stop most poisons." Harry replied.
"And what is the difference between monkswood and wolfsbane?" His professor inquired.
"There is no difference. They're the same plant, also known as aconite." Harry answered, cheekily. Snape huffed and turned to the rest of the class.
"Well, why aren't you writing this down?" Snape asked, angrily. Harry smirked.
Harry and Draco spent the rest of the class brewing a near perfect potion. Of course, Neville and Ron's potion turned out terribly, as all of Neville's potions tended to do. Harry was not surprised when Snape irately turned to him.
"Potter, why didn't you tell Mr. Longbottom to wait until after he took the cauldron off the fire to add the porcupine quills?" Snape interrogated. Harry sighed. Why-oh why-did Snape have to act this way? He knew that Snape hated his dad-and with good reason-but when would Snape realize he was not James Potter?
"I'm sorry, sir, but I cannot watch both my potion and theirs. I was certain Ron was more than competent enough to help his partner brew a successful potion." Harry answered truthfully. Snape huffed.
"Ten points from Gryffindor, for your cheek." Snape told him. Harry sighed. He had to repeat the mantra I won't let him get to me this time. I won't let him get to me this timeover and over in his head. If he never gave Professor Snape the ammunition, he might be able to possibly have a semi-peaceful relationship with the man. He knew this was crucial to the war effort and survival.
As soon as class was over and his potion was turned in, Harry walked out of the classroom. Before he had much time to think about anything, Draco had grabbed onto his arm and dragged him up to the seventh floor. They finally stopped in front of the Barnabas the Barmy painting. Draco paced in front of it three times and suddenly a door appeared. By this point, Hermione had thankfully caught up with them. Draco pulled open the door and quickly pulled his two friends in, shutting the door behind them.
"Mind telling me what that was about?" Harry panted, leaning over his knees in order to take big breaths of air. Draco's eyes went wide as he began looking in his backpack for a piece of parchment.
"Harry, do you know much about flowers?" Draco asked frantically. Harry looked quizzically at the blond, an eyebrow quirked.
"Like planting them…?" Harry asked confused. He knew a lot about planting flowers. He had to keep the gardens managed back at home.
"No, like their symbolism. Do you know what they mean?" Draco asked concerned. Hermione now was intrigued and looked down at the parchment Draco held in his hand. Quickly, she gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. Now, Harry was concerned.
"What? What's wrong?" Harry asked, somewhat scared. Had something really bad happened already? What had he missed?
"Harry, what was the first question Professor Snape asked you?" Draco asked him.
"You were there." Harry replied, his right eyebrow quirked.
"Tell it back to me. Slowly." Draco commanded.
"Okay, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel…" Harry started.
"Asphodel," Draco interrupted, "is a type of lily that means 'my regrets follow you to the grave.'"
"Okay, is that it?" Harry asked.
"No, finish it." Draco demanded.
"With an infusion of wormwood…" Harry finished.
"Wormwood means absence and typically means bitter sorrow." Draco added. Harry stared at Draco, confused. "Put it together. A lily that shows regret that follows to the grave, and bitter sorrow." Harry still stared, confusion clear on his face.
"Harry, Professor Snape-loosely translated-said 'I bitterly regret Lily's death'." Hermione explained. Harry paled and his eyes grew wide.
"What?" Harry yelped.
"When I was writing down his question, it caught my attention. No first year would know the answer. So, I looked closer at it. Uncle Sev taught me what flowers symbolized. That's what got me thinking there was something more going on, and there was!" Draco began to explain.
"Harry, Professor Snape can't possibly let anyone know he's a good guy. He wouldn't be a good spy if people figured out he loved your mother." Hermione pointed out. "Yet, he still wanted to communicate how awful he felt about her death. He thought you would know this! Maybe that's why he was so tough with you after that! He thought you got this message and chose to ignore it." Hermione theorized.
"Or, he hated me because I was the constant reminder that my mom chose James Potter over him." Harry added nonchalantly. Draco gazed over at his new best friend and sighed.
"That's probably it, too, but at least give him a chance, Harry. I know my Uncle Sev. If he knew about your uncle's 'frustration'…" Draco started, Harry cut him off.
"We will never speak to him about my uncle's frustration. Understood?" Harry demanded firmly. Draco nodded, and switched gears.
"So, what were you thinking about before class started?" Draco asked Harry, eyeing the dark-haired boy suspiciously. Harry turned to the blond.
"I just had a flashback. Something happens, and suddenly, I'm back on the battlefield. It's nothing. I'll be fine." Harry promised. Hermione, however, worried her bottom lip.
"I don't think that you're fine, Harry. In the muggle world, that's called Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and it's serious." She reminded him.
"I'll be fine. I'll get over it." Harry replied, getting annoyed.
"I think we should talk about it. What was it that set you off?" Hermione asked, not giving up. Harry rolled his eyes.
"I was just thinking about the first potions class. Then, I thought about Professor Snape. Soon, I was watching him struggle for breath and looking into his eyes like he pleaded me to do." Harry described. Again, he was thrown back into that moment. He could feel his heart beating at an insane rate.
"Harry? Harry!" Hermione cried out, shaking the boy gently. He shook his head and looked around. He was back in the Room of Requirement with a scared Hermione and a concerned Draco. Again, he's concerned? I guess that's what a true friend does. Look at Hermione Harry thought to himself as he stared into the girl's eyes. They shone with tears unshed as she launched herself into his arms. "Oh, Harry! It happened again, didn't it? You went back?"
Harry sighed and nodded. Hermione took a few shaky breaths. She finally retracted from the hug so she could look into Harry's emerald eyes.
"Harry, it's nothing to be ashamed of. I found myself going back, too. When I'd see my parents, all I could think about what Obliviating them. Just looking at Draco, sometimes I'm drawn back to Malfoy Manor." Hermione looked down at her arm, almost expecting to see cursed marks running down it. "It happens, during wars. We saw so much loss. So many people died. We're not going to let that happen this time." Hermione promised, looking down at her hands that fiddled with the hem of her robe.
"Harry, I even have flashbacks. Sometimes, I flashback to the time you tried to kill me." Draco admitted. Harry shot him a glare and he threw up his hands in surrender. "I'm not blaming you. I would have done the same thing, too. I'm just saying, all three of us went through things no kid should have to go through." He trailed off, looking through blank eyes.
"But we came back. We're better, stronger. We knew this wasn't going to be easy, but we made it this far. We're friends, like we should have been all along." Hermione reminded them. She put her hand out in front of her, palm down and looked expectantly at the two boys with her.
Harry placed his hand on top of hers. "Friends until the end." He added.
Draco looked consideringly at the two in front of him. He sighed, as if he had made a hard decision. He placed his hand on top of the pile. "Friends no matter what. Friends before parents, guardians, or godfathers." Draco smirked as he finished his little spiel, looking knowingly at Harry, who grimaced.
"Did he really have to be your godfather?" Harry mumbled. Draco laughed and shrugged. The three of them looked at their pile of hands and Harry decided. "Friends forever on three." The two others nodded in agreement.
"One, two, three. Friends forever." The three shouted as the lifted their hands from the pile. They jumped up, grabbed their belongings, and headed to Gryffindor tower, feeling considerably lighter than they had when they entered.