His love for Potions I ✔

Chapter 13: Tom Riddle is boring

The rest of Christmas break was mostly spent in trying to cheer Hermione up about being turned half-cat. Potions class, when it resumed, chilled to record levels thanks to the new vigour in Harry and Draco's feud. Draco took absolute delight in pointing out every toe Harry put out of line and every mistake he made, as well as seeing how often he could toss inappropriate ingredients into Harry's potions. Harry truly regretting having an interest for Draco to poke holes in. It gave far too wide a margin for creativity.

Hexing his diary out of Malfoy's hands did feel pretty good, though, even if he didn't like the ugly look in Draco's eyes afterwards.

#

Time rolled onwards. Harry met Tom Riddle, confronted Hagrid, and Dumbledore left the school. Students weren't allowed to go anywhere alone, curtailing any efforts Harry might have made at independent study. With Hermione petrified, it all felt like too much work anyway.

#

One person, however, seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the atmosphere of terror and suspicion. Draco Malfoy was strutting around the school as though he had just been appointed Head Boy. Harry didn't realize what he was so pleased about until the Potions lesson about two weeks after Dumbledore and Hagrid had left, when, sitting right behind Malfoy, Harry overheard him gloating to Crabbe and Goyle.

"I always thought Father might be the one who got rid of Dumbledore," he said, not troubling to keep his voice down. "I told you he thinks Dumbledore's the worst headmaster the school's ever had. Maybe we'll get a decent headmaster now. Someone who won't want the Chamber of Secrets closed. McGonagall won't last long, she's only filling in...."

Snape swept past Harry, making no comment about Hermione's empty seat and cauldron.

"Sir," said Malfoy loudly. "Sir, why don't you apply for the headmaster's job?"

"Now, now, Malfoy," said Snape, though he couldn't suppress a thin-lipped smile. "Professor Dumbledore has only been suspended by the governors. I daresay he'll be back with us soon enough."

"Yeah, right," said Malfoy, smirking. "I expect you'd have Father's vote, sir, if you wanted to apply for the job - I'll tell Father you're the best teacher here, sir -"

Snape smirked as he swept off around the dungeon, fortunately not spotting Seamus Finnigan, who was pretending to vomit into his cauldron.

"It truly puzzles me that the muggleborn haven't all packed their bags by now," Malfoy went on. "I bet-"

"Would you shut up, Malfoy?" Harry interrupted.

"Sure, Potter. I'll spare your delicate sensibilities. How is Granger these days, anyway?"

"She is going to be fine. Thanks for asking."

The bell rang at that moment, which was lucky; it interrupted what would very definitely have been just as offensive as everything else Malfoy had been saying.

"Hurry up, I've got to take you all to Herbology," barked Snape over the class's heads, and off they marched. Snape had been pretty thoroughly ignoring Harry for months outside what Harry was beginning to think of as normal levels of criticism, but Harry couldn't help but noticing that the man took more than his fair share of turns escorting Harry between classes. If Lockhart had been the one trying to keep him alive, he'd have had a lot better luck sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest, he thought resentfully.

#

"This is getting ridiculous, Potter," Draco informed him a few days later, interrupting what had been almost a good morning. Granted, it hadn't had a chance to get started yet, because it was before breakfast. Harry looked longingly at the table just a little bit further into the great hall.

"What is?"

"You. You can't set me on fire with your eyes, so you might as well stop trying."

"I always act like this, Malfoy."

"No, you're cross about Granger. I didn't do anything to Granger."

"Shut it."

Draco folded his arms.

"You owe me a favor."

"I'm a little busy right now, Malfoy."

"My favor is you stop acting like I'm personally responsible for everything."

"Your father-"

"Our conversations never do go well when we talk about each other's fathers, do they?"

Harry had to admit this was entirely true, and subsided.

"So. That favor," Draco prompted.

"I'll stop being upset with you when you stop being so happy all the time."

"I am not publically disagreeing with my father for you, Potter. Not in a million years."

"Then I'm not publically getting along with you, Malfoy."

"Oh, well. That's alright then. Cheers."

And with a cheery smile, Malfoy went to the Slytherin table. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that Malfoy thought Harry had just agreed to something.

#

Harry had a pretty good idea of what Professor Snape would think about him confronting the Heir of Slytherin and a giant basilisk, so he didn't ask him for his opinion beforehand.

He had one frantic moment in the middle of confronting Riddle to think, Neville has good instincts about when something's a plot by Lord Voldemort, but then he didn't have any more time for idle thoughts, caught up in survival.