A few weeks later, Harry was in the Common room with Ron and Hermione doing homework. They were working on Potions, Harry's new favorite subject. His Potions homework took him much less time now since he was using the Half blood Prince's notes. He finished his essay in less than an hour.

Ron looked up just as Harry closed his book. "You're done already?"

"You're still using his notes. Harry, you have to stop. It's cheating," Hermione lectured.

"No, it's not. He's just doing what his book says. It's not his fault that someone wrote their notes down in the book. Hey, mate, you want to let me borrow that book of yours for a bit?" Ron asked hopefully.

"Sorry, Ron. I'm meeting with Professor Slughorn in a few minutes and I might need it," Harry said as he began getting his things together.

"Again? Didn't you just see Slughorn privately a couple of days ago?" Hermione asked. Slughorn had asked Harry to work with him quite a bit since school started. He did that with a few kids actually. He even had a club for it. She'd been invited as well to those meetings.

"Well, Dumbledore said he likes kids that are… exceptional, I guess is the right word. He seems to like me for a few reasons. I'm the Boy Who LIved, he was friendly with my mother, and I'm good at potions. He's gone so far as to compare me to Snape," Harry said with a cringe. He hated that last part. He wasn't too fond about the 'Boy Who Lived' thing either, but he hated being compared to Snape. Snape was a git. He was nothing like that.

"I wouldn't be bragging about that, Mate," Ron said.

"I'm not, believe me," Harry said.

"If Slughorn is comparing you to Professor Snape, it's a compliment, Harry. He may not be the nicest, but he's an excellent teacher, especially in Potions. He's the best Potions Master there is," Hermione said.

He's a git, Hermione," Ron said.

"I'm with Ron there. He's a bastard to everyone. He's even gone after Slughorn. He's always glaring at him. Although, having him glare at someone else all the time is a nice change of pace," Harry said.

"I wonder what Slughorn did to piss him off," Ron said.

"Knowing Snape it was nothing too serious. Maybe he just hates the competition as the best Harry Master or something. Who really cares? Snape rarely ever has a good reason for having something against someone. Anyway, I better go," Harry said before standing up with his book in his hand.

"Okay. See you later, Mate," Ron said.

Harry immediately headed for the door, not knowing he was about to learn exactly why Snape had such a problem with Slughorn.

___________

Harry made it to Slughorn's office a few minutes later and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Slughorn called.

Harry walked in to find his professor standing by his desk.

"Harry, I'm glad you could make it. Come in and shut the door," Slughorn said.

"Okay, but aren't we going to the classroom?" Harry asked as he shut the door. He assumed they were working on a potion.

"Well, I thought you'd like to speak about your mother tonight. I did promise to tell you about her, didn't I?" Slughorn asked.

Harry eagerly walked over. "That would be great, Professor. What can you tell me?"

"Well, first, let's get comfortable. I got us some drinks. Yours is pumpkin juice of course," Slughorn said before handing him a glass.

"Thank you," Harry said before taking the offered glass and taking a sip.

"Have a seat," Slughorn said.

Harry sat down in the chair in front of Slughorn's desk. "I don't really hear much about Mum. Everyone likes to talk about my dad."

"Well, your father was of course a remarkable young man, but your mother was brilliant. She excelled at Potions. She was one of my top students. In fact, I think only you and Severus beat her."

Just then, Harry started to feel a bit weird. His arms and legs began to relax against his will, almost like when you're about to go to sleep only more so, and he felt very light headed.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Slughorn asked.

"I...I don't think so. I think something may be wrong," Harry said. He'd never felt like this before. It didn't necessarily feel bad. In fact, he felt quite relaxed, but he knew the way he felt wasn't how he was supposed to feel.

"How about you take another sip of your juice?" Slughorn suggested.

Harry did so, though it was hard to make his arms work enough to do so. It didn't help any either. In fact, it made it worse. His limbs got to the point where he couldn't so much as lift them.

Harry looked down at his juice, which soon crashed to the floor with his inability to hold it. He began to think that his increasingly worsening condition had to do with his drink. "Professor, was there something in that."

"Well, I'm afraid there was a bit of a calming draught," Slughorn said with a smile.

"Calming draught?" Harry asked confused. He didn't know why his Professor would slip him a calming draught. He wasn't upset. In fact, he had been pretty happy. He'd been about to hear stories about his mother. Why would he need to be calmed for that?

"Yes. Actually, it's a pretty strong one, much stronger than anything you would've had before. I make my own and they're quite powerful. They relax the body entirely. Well almost entirely. They won't make you sleep," Slughorn said.

"Why… Why did you give it to me?" Harry asked. His speech began to slur at the end.

"So we could have a bit of fun, of course. You see, I've been looking forward to this since we met. You caught my eye the moment you showed up with Dumbledore. It only increased when I saw how amazing you were with a cauldron. You're so much like Severus. I got to have fun with him too, though I was able to take my time with him. You I had to work quickly with. I knew he would find a way to warn you soon and I'd lose the opportunity," Slughorn said.

"Do what?" Harry asked. He sensed extreme danger, but the calming draught wouldn't let him get too upset about it. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

Slughorn didn't answer. He just locked the door and transfigured his couch into a large bed. He then picked Harry up around the shoulders and under the knees.

Harry could not fight as he was carried to the bed. He wanted to. He knew that something very bad was about to happen. Hell, he had even managed to figure out what it was.  When he saw the bed, it became obvious.  He'd heard the warnings in primary school just as Hermione did.  He knew what was going to happen to him now.  It frightened him more than Voldemore did, but he couldn't do anything about it. He could not make even one part of his body work. He could do nothing but lay there powerless as the worst thing that could ever happen to anyone happened to him. The best he could hope for was that whatever Slughorn had given him would make him forget this horrid night by morning.