My Heart Remembers Differently

SOMETHINGS I WISH I COULD FORGET...AGAIN

After a half hour of not hearing Professor Slughorn's lecture, I reminded myself about my education goals being more important than whatever Harry was still hiding and that...I am still not sure what that was.  I decide to put it all out of my head and try to catch up with the lecture.   I was grateful that Professor Slughorn remembered the year before that in most cases none of his N.E.W.T. students had been able to learn anything because of the war.  He was reviewing much of what I had learned the sixth year.

I start writing notes before the class broke and moved on to trying to make the potions.  This felt right.  Not learning about Shadow people who are out to get our souls or a needless lecture on the dangers of putting spells on muggle items.  I don't know what I will do with learning to make a potion that will lull a mermaid to sleep, either, but at least this felt academic and my potions book was something I would be more than willing to study.

Before I knew it, class was over and I packed my things and headed up to my dorm.  This was only the first day and it had already been too long for me.

I chose the desk closest to the stairs.  I laid my books and the ones I had checked out of the library on my way up to the dorm for my Defense against the Dark Arts class.  Unlike most of the professors that taught that class, Professor Tonks actually had a syllabus she had promised to go by so I could study ahead.  I wanted to study.  I wanted to hide in my semi-private dorm and pretend that this last year had not happened, that my parents were missing me, and that if I ventured out and saw Harry and Ron, everything would be back to normal.

I knew that wasn't the case, but pretending did help.  A little.  I had shed my robe and uniform in exchange for a pair of jeans and long-sleeved shirt.  I pulled my bushy hair up in a ponytail and laid out my books per subject, and made sure that my inkwell was full and my quill sharp.  A little while later I was happily scratching at the fresh parchment working on my potions homework when the door swung open.

"Granger, that is my desk."  Malfoy said loosening his green and black tie as he walked into the room.

"No, Malfoy, this is my desk.  If you wanted it, you should have said.  If you really want to use it, you have to wait until I am finished with my work."  I told him looking back at my work intent on ignoring the arrogant buffoon. 

"Granger, don't be a pain.  You knew I would choose that particular desk because it is closest to the stairs.  I will be going to bed probably much earlier than you because I have a free period in which I worked on my homework."  He informed me.

"Interesting that you think I care."  I said in a sing-song voice and continued copying the ingredients for a potion that is supposed to produce a sense of relaxation. 

"Okay, Granger.  This is going to get ugly."  Malfoy warned.  I groaned and shook my head.  "I have my wand at the ready!"  He threatened.  I slammed my hand down and turned to glare at him over my shoulder.

Draco had discarded his robe and was standing there holding a book that looked like it came from the restricted area of the library.  He held it out to me.

"Let me have that desk and I will show you what I found during lunch."  He offered.  He raised his eyebrows and shook his head.  "Do not say you don't care.  This, Granger, is a book of potions written by a healer from the sixteen hundreds.  Not only does it have a potion for curing strange maladies like big ears, big noses and freckles, it also has very strong antidotes for memory cures.  Ah, I thought that might be interesting to you."  He said with a smirk.  With a wave of my wand, my books were on the other desk and I took the book from his outstretched hand.

"I don't understand what you were doing in the restricted area."  I said.  Draco shrugged.

"I like studying things that others think I shouldn't."  He informed me.  I stood and walked toward the couch.  Draco set his books down on his preferred desk.  "I would have thought you would be at the Quidditch field.  Isn't Weaslett having try-outs for the Gryffindor team?  Don't you want to go cheer on King Weasel and your other housemates?"  He asked.  I had not known anything about the tryouts.