Chapter 13 - Potions

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Third-Person POV

9th January 1997

Holidays are over, and Tilly is healing well, with only a few scars left. Everyone is back at school and starting back at their classes, meaning more test and exams were due soon. Tilly and Harry were walking with Hermione on their way to DumbledoreDumbledore when she sees Ron and Lavender.

"Excuse me; I have to go and vomit." Hermione walks off in the other direction while Tilly and Harry keep going. The two look at DumbledoreDumbledore before dunking their heads into the water. The scene before them changes into Slughorn, at dinner with some boys, that include Tom Riddle. Slughorn rushes the boys out when realising the time, but Tom stays behind. Tilly watches as Tom uses manipulative terms and the way he speaks to convince Slughorn to give him some kind of information. As Tom asks his question, the sound fades out and then Horace snaps, yelling at the boy, clearing him out of his room. Tilly and Harry bring their heads out to look at the professor.

Tilly takes a breath and speaks.

"That wasn't the original memory; it's been altered, most likely by Slughorn. Whatever Tom asked him about, Horace is ashamed of." Harry sighs slightly.

"Which means we have to find out what it was Tom read that night and asked Slughorn. Great." Tilly rolls her eyes at her brother and takes his arm as they walk to their next class, which happened to be Snape's class. Tilly is enjoying The Dark Arts more, so now they have a teacher who knows what they are talking about and passionate about the subject. It is actually Snape's birthday today, meaning Tilly had made him some biscuits and his favourite tea for him.

Tilly and Harry came into the class, all talking waiting for Snape to come into class. Tilly sits beside Hermione as Ron and Harry sit on the other side of the brunette and Draco next to Tilly. Draco put a note on her desk as she walks up to her Dad's desk to place the biscuits and tea down. Harry sees the message and sees Malfoy looking the other way, so he grabs the note and sits back down, hearing Snape come into the class. Tilly smiles at her Dad, who smiles slightly back, gives her a quick hug, and then walks over to his desk. Snape sees the cookies and tea; knowing it's from Tilly, he smiles happily, scaring most of the class.

"I know it terrifying to see me in a good mood, but we are very ahead in class, so I thought we could bring out the Boggart some of you might remember from Third Year. Does that sound alright?" The class smiles, nodding at him. With a flick of his wand, the wardrobe with the Boggart appears before the class.

As the class lines up to fight the biggest fear, Harry opens the note and reads what Malfoy wrote to Tilly.

'Darling, sorry, I know we planned to have our special date on the 10th of March, but I have to check up on our 'bird'. I'll make it up to you later. – Your Love, D.M.' Harry has no idea what 'bird' means but isn't a fan of Malfoy dating Tilly. He has a feeling that Malfoy is hiding something, and it's going to hurt Tilly in some way, which forces Harry's hand to protector her. Harry knows he will do anything to protect or save the only blood he has left, even if that means hurting Malfoy.

Tilly and Draco knew their fears, so they sat on the side, watching everyone face their fear. Draco smiles down at Tilly and pulls her into his lap as she laughs. Draco feels the warmth radiate off Tilly as she leans her head back on his shoulder. Draco rests his head in the crook of her neck, lightly sucking on her skin, wanting to leave a few marks on her skin before he left after this class.

"Draco, my Dad's here. And James." Draco shrugs his shoulders, not caring about either person being in the room.

"So? We don't get to do this much anymore. And after this year, I don't think that's going to be a choice." Draco says lowly as his lip hover over Tilly's neck, leaving harsh marks as he moves. Draco rests his hands on Tilly's stomach and whispers. "I want you to have my kids." Tilly blushes, looking around, making sure no one is watching them.

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