What If? -Drarry

Part One: Chapter Two

Chapter Two

"We have Transfiguration first with the Ravenclaws, then potions with Slytherin, then break," read Ron over breakfast, "Then Charms with Hufflepuff, Flying with Slytherin, Defense against the Dark Arts with Slytherin again, Herbology with the Slytherins-"

"Why do we have so many classes with Slytherin?" Asked Harry, annoyed, looking at his own timetable. "Five out of nine classes are with Slytherin, three with Ravenclaw, and only one with Hufflepuff."

"That's just how it is, mate," Said Fred, "It might be different next year."

"Yeah, we had that same sort of timetable last year," Said George, "But this year we're mostly with Hufflepuff."

Harry didn't know much about the Slytherins, or any of the houses for that matter, but he knew that most people considered them to be the 'bad house' due to its dark history. Apparently, Voldemort himself had been in Slytherin. But Draco had seemed nice enough - maybe people were exaggerating?

"As I was saying," Continued Ron, "We finish with Astronomy. But instead of going straight to class, we have dinner then wait until it's a bit dark outside before going up to the astronomy tower."

"What do we do until dinner?"

Ron shrugged "Muck about I guess, same as we would after a normal school day."

0o0oDraco0o0o

Snape's potions class was held in the musty, damp dungeons, illuminated only by candles and cauldron fires. The air seemed thick as Draco walked to the back of the class with the rest of the Slytherins and took his seat there. His godfather's class was one of his favourites, though he didn't imagine he would be paying much attention - he already knew all of what they would cover this year. Draco had made his first potion - a cough draught, aged seven, and had been hooked on potion-making ever since. he made countless potions with the potions kit he had received as a Christmas gift from his mother, perfecting each recipe before testing them out on the house elves. This meant that this class would probably be a bore. He would have to sit through hundreds of lessons that he had taught himself years ago.

Snape burst dramatically into the class, cloak billowing behind him, and took his place on the slightly raised area at the front. He surveyed the class for a moment before beginning to talk, lecturing them on the "subtle art of potion-making". It didn't take long before he spied Harry, sitting next to Ron at the front of the class. A crooked smile came across his face, though it didn't meet his eyes. "Ah, Mr Potter. Our new... celebrity." Draco watched with the rest of the class as Snape began to fire questions at Harry, none of which he could answer (Draco could, though), and taking points from Gryffindor. Though Draco knew it wasn't fair to ask a boy who hadn't had any magical education to answer difficult questions, he snickered along with the rest of the Slytherins. Conformity was, unfortunately, a necessary part of the house.

Eventually, Snape seemed to get bored of taking ten points from Gryffindor and began to actually teach the class. There was to be no practical potion making today, only theory, all of which Draco knew. He began to doodle idly on his parchment, drawing Harry purely because he was directly in front of him. Draco liked drawing, though he wasn't very good yet. However, he was good enough that he was getting weird looks, and quickly scribbled out the sketch.

"Were you just drawing Potter?" laughed Pansy Parkinson, a girl who Draco had known since they were both toddlers. She could be pretty, with a very pointed nose and pitch-black hair styled in a shoulder-grazing bob, but the fact was that she was too cruel to be beautiful. Everything about her was sharp, from her nose to her words.