“Sir,” Harry said as he poked his head back in the classroom. Seeing that Snape was seated at his desk Harry walked in, closed the door behind him, and nervously approached the desk.

Hearing the noise Severus looked up and quirked an eyebrow at him. “Mr. Potter, what a surprise.”

“Do you have another class today?” Harry asked.

Severus flicked his wand in a complicated gesture before replying, “No, not this afternoon, why?”

“Just wondering if you had a moment.”

“I do,” Severus looked up at him curiously. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with your rather odd behavior in class would it?”

Startled, Harry looked up and met his eyes, “What do you mean, my odd behavior?” he asked.

“I mean you would hardly look me in the face, which is not at all normal for you. You’re going to have to do better than that, especially since I’m going to have to make a few acerbic comments to you now and then.”

“Right, of course,” Harry said, nodding a little jerkily. “Um, look,” he said, after he took a deep breath, “I don’t want you to think that I asked McGonagall to bully you into putting me in your class, because I-“

“You were registered for my class before she came to talk to me. You may, of course, drop, if you wish, but I rather thought you wanted to take Potions.”

“Of course I did, but how did I, I mean, I didn’t get the OWL you wanted,” Harry spluttered in confusion.

Snape smirked a little but instead of answering Harry’s question he said, “You’re going to be late to class if you don’t go now, and I certainly will not write you a note.”

“But—“Harry began.

“We’ll talk again soon; I’ll send you an owl to set it up.” Very clearly that was a dismissal and Harry had no desire to be tardy to Transfiguration, so he hiked his bag up higher on his shoulder and walked as quickly as he could out of Snape’s classroom.

As soon as he was out of sight of the doorway he took off running and managed to arrive, breathless and panting, at McGonagall’s classroom just as the chime sounded again. “If you will take your seat, Mr. Potter,” she said, “We were just about to begin.”

“Sorry, professor,” he gasped as he slid into a seat next to Ron, who was sitting right next to Hermione.

McGonagall nodded and closed the door before turning to head back to the front of the classroom. “I thought we’d start off the term with a brief review,” the stern head of house began. “Does anyone have any questions about anything we’ve done previously?” She looked around the room expectantly, and when no one raised their hand she said, “Good, that means we can get started with the rest of this term’s work. If any of you should run into questions, you may feel free to ask me, either in class or during my office hours, I trust you all remember when those are?” she inquired with a small smile. As various nods were seen she turned to the board and tapped it with her wand, bringing up the lesson notes for the day.

It seemed that, like Charms, they were focusing on the hows and whys behind Transfiguration this year, as much as on the practical applications of it. It was, nevertheless, a very interesting class, primarily because they were finally getting to work on human transfiguration, and it passed very quickly. Just before class ended the homework was announce, eighteen inches on the commonalities between transfiguration of similar objects and objects with similar names, to be due the following Monday. Hermione was delighted with how simple it was while Ron was groaning that he couldn’t believe they had assigned that much on the first day and they were arguing about whether or not they should start it that evening while they packed up to leave when Professor McGonagall asked Harry to stay behind a moment after class.

As the bell rang Ron said, “Want us to wait for you?”

“No, don’t worry about it,” Harry said, “It’s probably about being late. I’ll meet you in the common room.”

“Alright, if you’re sure, then.”

“I’m sure,” Harry said, giving his friends a little push toward the door before turning and approaching the professor’s desk.

McGonagall looked up and smiled at him. “How was your first potions class?” she asked.

“It was alright,” Harry said. “I wanted to thank you for getting me in,” he continued. He knew Snape had said that he was already registered, but he thought he might be able to get a bit more out of his head of house.

“You are entirely welcome, of course, Potter, but I didn’t do it.”

“What?” Harry said, feigning puzzlement.

“From what I gather, it was the headmaster who asked Severus to include you,” she replied. Actually, she had gotten the impression that it was someone else entirely...but she didn’t think she ought to bring that up at the moment.

“Oh,” Harry said in genuine surprise, “Well, thanks anyway, Professor, I really appreciate it.”

“Certainly,” McGonagall replied, “and if you run into any problems my door is always opened. Though I would appreciate if you did not wait until after curfew,” she smiled again.

Harry laughed, “Sure thing, Professor,” he replied, surprised that she was joking with him. “Was there anything else,” he asked curiously.

“No, that was all, but mind you don’t be late to my class, or I will take points.”

“Right, well, thanks again,” Harry said as he picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder.

McGonagall nodded at him and he walked out the door and headed toward Gryffindor tower. When he arrived in the common room he was not surprised to see Ron and Hermione arguing. “Ron, I can’t believe you let me think you had done your Charms work when you’ve barely started,” Hermione was saying in exasperation.

“Well I did start, didn’t I?” Ron answered her, “Besides, I wanted to do it with you,” he continued.

“Why, so I could help you?” Hermione shot back.

Ron flushed a little guiltily but said, “No, of course not! You have twice as much homework as me anyway; I just thought you might like a little company while you do it!”

Hermione looked at him suspiciously for a moment, but then shrugged and said, “Well, I suppose. But if you think I’m just going to give you the answers you’ve got another thing coming!”

“Of course, ‘Mione,” Ron replied soothingly. “I never expected that.”

“We may as well get started then, before dinner,” Harry said as he walked up.

Ron shot him a slightly pained look but then said, “Yeah, I suppose. You never know what they’re likely to give us tomorrow.”

At dinner, Hermione looked over at Harry and asked, “Did you get your quill?”

“Hmm?” Harry said looking up. “I’m sorry Hermione I wasn’t listening,” he apologized.

“I asked if you got your quill back. Professor Snape didn’t give you a hard time, did he?”

“What’s this then?” Ron asked, becoming interested at the mention of his most hated professor.

“Harry forgot his quill in Potions and he went back to get it, that’s why he was almost late to Transfiguration,” Hermione explained.

“Oh, yes, I got my quill back, no, I didn’t get into any trouble over it.”

“Good,” Ron said, “Let’s not give up the house cup yet, hey?”

Hermione rolled her eyes while Harry just nodded. Pensively she glanced at Harry, then up at her potions professor. Something was going on, and she was going to find out what it was.

Draco Malfoy had struggled through the day and fell into his seat at dinner in the Great Hall still trying to give the impression that nothing was wrong. He could only hope he was giving a somewhat credible performance, but he rather doubted it. He had found himself watching Potter in Potions that afternoon. He could scarcely believe that the Gryffindork had gotten into advanced Potions, hadn’t he caught Professor Snape giving Potter remedial potions tutoring last year? He resolved to ask Potter about that at the next opportunity. Right after he talked to Professor Snape to see if he had any insights into what seemed to be his father’s recent and hopefully temporary insanity.

Speaking of the Potions Master he had been much kinder than usual to Potter today. Was something going on between them? Was it somehow related to the fact that Potter had stayed with Snape that summer? He had overheard his father as he was flooing someone in his study one day, apparently his dour professor was trying to teach Potter the Dark Arts. There were so many things wrong with that thought that Draco didn’t even want to contemplate them all. He heaved a sigh.

“Draco,” Pansy looked at him concernedly, “are you all right? You seem a little odd today.”

“I’m fine, Pansy,” he replied haughtily.

“If you say so,” she said with arched brows and disbelieving eyes. He glowered at her as she turned away and then glanced up at the staff table. Professor Snape was just standing up. All he needed to do was wait a bit longer, then make his own excuses and leave. Draco took the opportunity to actually eat some of the dinner he had been playing with before standing up and leaving the Great Hall.

Soon enough he was standing in a pool of torchlight outside the door to his head of house’s office. Tentatively he raised his hand and knocked at the door.

“Enter,” Snape called, looking up from the essay he was marking. He was more than a little surprised to see that the Malfoy heir had come to see him on his own, but covered that surprise by saying smoothly, “Mr. Malfoy, did you want something?”

“I was wondering, sir, whether you had any insight into this,” the boy reached into his pocket and fished out a slightly crumpled looking bit of parchment that bore two words in what was unmistakably Lucius’s handwriting.

He had, of course, heard Molly Weasley’s report, and it tallied with what he had managed to pick up on his own, but he had not been aware that the plan was moving forward with such speed. For a moment, Severus felt exceptionally weary, but he quickly pushed that aside in favor of dealing with the student standing before him. “I may know something, yes,” he replied. “What have you been told?”

“Nothing but this,” the teen responded.

“I see. I believe your father wishes you to make an effort to get to know Potter.”

“I could tell that for myself!” Draco snapped impatiently, “I was wondering if maybe you knew why. Father, well, he’s been very anxious about this lately.” Suddenly the blonde looked very young and confused.

“I am certain, Draco, that more will be explained to you when it is appropriate,” Severus said softly. “In the meantime, I’m afraid I can only urge you to follow your father’s instructions.”

Draco drooped the tiniest bit at this. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” He turned toward the door feeling that this interview had been rather less helpful than he could have wished.

Snape looked at him pensively for a moment and spoke before the youth had opened the door, though his hand was on the handle. Perhaps, just perhaps, a real friend was what Draco needed to keep him out of the Dark Lord’s clutches, and if he managed to actually make friends with Harry, it was worth a shot, he decided. “If I might make a few suggestions, Mr. Malfoy,” he said.

Draco turned back with curiosity glinting in his eyes, “Yes, sir?” he asked.

“Tone down your interactions with the Golden Trio, don’t insult Potter’s friends. He is more than a little protective of them.”

“I had noticed that, sir,” the boy offered.

Snape nodded and continued, “Don’t make any overt attempts right away, that will only make him suspicious. Try insinuating yourself into his daily routine somewhere, sit at the next table in the library for instance. When he gets used to that, make a friendly overture, and don’t get upset if he turns you down the first time,” his mouth quirked into his distinctive sneer at the word friendly, as though it were merely a euphemism for something else.

Draco nodded this time, “Right, thank you, sir.” Snape gestured dismissively and Draco left the office. As he headed down to Arx Serpens he felt a little better for the first time since breakfast. Perhaps everything was not as bleak as it seemed. He had plotting to do.

Severus remained in his office until nearly curfew, and then he made his way up to the headmaster’s office. When he arrived at the top of the staircase a familiar voice called out, “Enter.” Albus welcomed him with a smile and his perpetual offer of refreshment. “Tea, Severus? Or perhaps you’d like a lemon drop?”

“No, thank you,” Severus replied, lip curling ever-so-slightly. “I am merely here to tell you that the plan is in motion.”

“Ah, young Draco has been given his marching orders then?”

“Yes, and apparently that’s all he’s been given.”

“Unfortunately that’s hardly surprising. Do you think it will work?”

“You’d know better than I, Albus,” Snape replied, sinking into a chair and rubbing at his eyes.

Dumbledore smiled, “Indulge me, Severus. What do you think?”

“I, I don’t know. It might. Harry, I know, would like a family, and the Dursleys are hardly that,” he sneered with disgust. “If it were anyone but the Malfoys,” he shook his head. “There is quite a history of animosity to be overcome there, and Harry is not nearly as stupid about this as I once thought. Surely he knows that it could not work,” the spy looked up at his friend. “I felt I had to give Draco some advice about how to do it.”

“I shouldn’t worry about that, old friend,” Albus said gently. “After all, it is up to Mr. Malfoy to follow that advice, or not. And anyway it may all work out to the best.”

“I hope so, Albus, I truly do, for both their sakes.” They sat in silence a moment before Severus stood.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Severus,” Dumbledore said, eyes a-twinkle. “Do try not to take too many points from Gryffindor this evening.”

“I can only take them if I catch them,” Severus returned with a predatory gleam in his eyes. “But who knows, I may get lucky.” The headmaster’s laughter followed him down the stairs.