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The sound of tinkling beads and shuffling feet drew Harry’s attention as he made his way toward the library. Lifting his head, Harry made eye contact with Professor Trelawny as she meandered down the hall. Appearance the same as ever, frizzy hair and thick, round rimmed glaces perched on her nose, the only noticeable difference being the new lines and dark circles around her eyes. The war had taken a toll on everyone, including airy divination teachers.
“Oh hello Harry,” she greeted.
“Professor,” Harry returned, hoping she didn’t catch his impatience. He actually did need to make it to the library before his will to study completely faded.
Harry would have continued walking had a hand with spindly fingers not seized his sleeve. Trelawny’s eyes rolled back and her mouth fell open, body tense. Suddenly she was speaking.
“Ancient foes turn a new leaf as desires of the heart overthrow the rule of the mind...” Trelawny hissed. “A challenge and a question introduce this revelation that only clear eyes can see.”
And as if nothing happened, the rigidity drained out of Professor Trewlany. Her hand released Harry as quickly as it had grabbed it. Blinking a few times, her eyes focused on Harry once more.
“Good to see you dear,” she murmured and continued down the hall.
Harry whipped his head around, looking to see if anyone else had overheard Trelawny seemingly predict Harry’s future again. Seeing nobody, he thanked whoever was watching out for him. He didn’t need anymore childish rumors about who the one and only savior himself liked. Hearts desire? Revelation? What on earth could she possibly mean? And how did that relate to “ancient foes”? Harry’s only ancient foe, he guessed, that was still around was Malfoy.
Harry had been surprised the Slytherin had even returned. After everything, the war, Azkaban, the trial, Harry would have wanted to crawl in a hole and be forgotten. And yet, there Malfoy stood, the only returning eighth year Slytherin, at the beginning of term, head held high.
Harry shook his head and continued on to the library. No way in hell she meant Malfoy.
---
Potions began as usual. All of the students took their usual seats. Harry always pulled a stool up to Ron and Hermione’s table at the start of class and somehow managed to stay there for the duration of Slughorn’s ramblings until partners were assigned.
However, this arrangement always left one student alone at a desk, and that student was one Draco Malfoy. In any spare time before or during class, Malfoy kept his head down or in a book. He seemed to want to draw the least amount of attention possible. Even so, the occasional glare or flying object always found him. Malfoy would pretend not to notice, but Harry swore sometimes he would see Malfoy’s face twist with emotion before he quickly reigned himself back to disinterested indifference.
“Class, today we will be brewing a potion requiring advanced skill. Over the next few class periods we will be brewing..” Slughorn paused for effect before saying, “Amortentia.” A quiet murmur of excitement overtook the once silent classroom.
“Now now,” he continued. “I will not have any funny business. This potion is extremely dangerous if used for the wrong purposes. However, I expect a class with your level of skill,” Slughorn said looking dead at Harry, “will be able to pull it off swimmingly. Gather your ingredients and find your partners posted on the board.”
Harry gathered his things up off the table and made his way to the board to check his partner assignment. His eyes scanned the list before finally resting on his name... next to Malfoy’s.
Harry’s heart began to beat faster. Could Trelawny had actually been telling the truth or was this just a huge coincidence? Harry’s impending freak out was cut short by the person in question.
“Going to stand their all day or help me make this potion?” Malfoy hissed from Harry’s left.
He hadn’t even noticed the other boy walk up beside him, so he could blame being caught off guard for his skyrocketing heart rate. Not prophecies about love and enemies and what not.
Cutting off any other rude comments, Harry turned and attempted to settle his breathing as he walked back to the desk he would share with his partner. Malfoy had apparently collected all of the ingredients they would need to make this potion. Plopping down on the stool, Harry bent over to place his excess stuff on the floor. Sitting back up, Draco had somehow managed to apparate the distance between the board to his stool, startling Harry once more.
“Jumpy today are we Potter? Just don’t jump around so much you touch anything and maybe we can pass this. I don’t know how you managed to convince Slughorn you have any capabilities in this class what so ever,” Malfoy sneered.
“Shove off Malfoy,” Harry answered weakly, this whole prophecy really throwing him off his game.
“Wow, something really has gotten into you. Not that I think you’re witty, but that comeback left something to be desired. Whatever could be troubling the Savior of the Wizarding World?” Malfoy questioned.
“I’m really not in the mood Malfoy,” Harry said through gritted teeth. “Can we just get on with it?”
Searching Harry’s face for a moment, Draco shifted his focus from Harry to the task at hand without another word. Harry breathed a sign of relief. For what a huge twat Malfoy could be, Harry was extremely surprised at how quickly Malfoy backed off.
They worked in silence for the rest of the class period with only the occasional murmured words to let the other know they needed to grab something else from the ingredients cupboard or that the potion needed to be stirred eight times instead of seven.
They worked surprisingly well together when they weren’t bickering, surprising everyone with the speed and accuracy with which they moved through the steps the potion required. By the time class was over, the pair were a solid five steps ahead of even Ron and Hermione, who had a slight mix up with ingredients when Hermione wasn’t watching, resulting in a plume of smoke and foul odor.
“We don’t make a bad pair, Potter,” Malfoy said, giving Harry a sideways glance before exiting the classroom.
Harry watched Malfoy walk quickly out of the classroom before turning to Ron and Hermione, whom were watching Harry with great interest.
“What?” Harry questioned, eyebrows knitting together.
“What was that all about?” Ron asked, leading the trio out of the empty classroom.
“What do you mean?” Harry returned, feigning ignorance.
“Harry, I’ve never seen you work that efficiently with anyone, let alone Malfoy,” Hermione said with what sounded like awe in her voice.
Harry frowned. “We got a bit ahead on the potion. So what?”
“You also seemed a bit on edge today, man,” Ron added.
“What’s the point in all this?” Harry asked gruffly, hoping to drop the subject. He wasn’t ready to tell them about the prophecy, which seemed to be becoming more real and less of a weird teacher’s hallucination with each passing minute.
“Oh forget it,” Hermione said with a sigh. “Come on. Let’s get to the Great Hall before Ron’s stomach gets any louder.
---
The week progressed the same as the first day of brewing Amortentia in potions had; Draco and Harry worked together like a well oiled machine. And each day, the silence became less unbearable and more pleasant. And the silence slowly but surely began to be filled with decent conversation.
At no point in his life did he think he would be brewing Amortentia and having Draco Malfoy chat and openly joke with him.
“No, no, I swear! It happened!” Harry promised, adding the last of the dry ingredients to today's portion of the recipe.
“There is no way you fit three people under that cloak and managed to hide from Flitwick and the cat. There is no way,” Draco persisted.
“You don’t have to believe me, but it did,” Harry said, watching Draco stir the contents of the cauldron. His hair had fallen from its usual neat, slicked back style because of the hear coming off the cauldron. Harry thought it looked better a little mucked up like that, didn’t make Draco look so harsh... Since when did he start calling him Draco? Harry’s eyes widened.
“Is something wrong,” Draco asked look up through his oddly long and full lashes, a slight frown marring his features.
“Nope, no. Everything is perfectly fine,” Harry fumbles, tearing his eyes off of Draco’s to look anywhere but him.
“Well, I think our potions done,” Draco announced, choosing to ignore Harry’s sudden weirdness, ladling the concoction into a vial.
Slughorn heard this and descended upon the pair. “Ah, look at this pearlescent sheen. Looks like we have our first proper brew. It’s no surprise though,” Slughorn said glancing at Harry. Draco rolled his eyes.
Turning on Draco suddenly, Slughorn said, “Hear Mr. Malfoy, take a sniff and tell us what you smell.”
A soft pink color dusted Draco’s cheeks as he hesitantly took the vial. Slowly, he brought it to his nose and inhaled. Draco’s eyes fluttered shut as he inhaled the unadulterated scent of the person his heart desired most.
“It smells sweet like.. butterbeer and like the scent after it rains.. and aftershave,” Draco muttered quietly, like he didn’t want anyone else to hear him.
“Now you Mr. Potter. What do you smell?” Slughorn said, taking the vial from Draco and handing it to Harry.
Without missing a bet, Harry held the glass vial up to his nose, taking a deep breath. The intoxicating scent of vanilla and a hint of sandal wood. And something distinct like ink for a quill and sweet milk chocolate. It smelled like Draco.
The realization hit Harry so suddenly that he dropped the vial. The glass hit the stone floor, shattering, spilling its contents on the floor in a milky puddle at Harry’s feet. Without even grabbing his stuff, Harry made a b-line for the door. He sprinted out of the classroom and down the halls of the castle, not knowing where he was going. His legs felt like jelly and his lungs burned when he finally stopped at the highest point of the astronomy tower. Tucking himself into a small alcove, Harry sat and listened to himself breath.
The silence was short lived as feet beating down on the stone resonated throughout the tower. Harry could not face his friends. Not now having realized the prophecy was true and that his heart desired his once enemy.
The feet came to a stop outside of the alcove, but they didn’t belong to Ron or Hermione.
“Harry,” Draco called quietly like he was talking to a scared animal.
Draco slowly moved to sit next to Harry, leaving enough room that Harry could escape should he want to. Draco watched Harry, who’s breathing seemed to become that much more erratic.
“Breath, Harry. Like this,” Draco said, proceeding to breath at a rate that would hopefully slow down Harry’s rapidly moving chest. After several agonizing minutes, Harry’s breathing seemed to slow, and the tenseness of his muscles seemed to release.
“Do you want to talk?” Draco asked softly.
“It was you,” Harry blurted before he could even think. “It smelled like you Draco. And I didn’t know what to do. And Trelawny told me some crazy prophecy about turning over a new leaf with a foe and something about a heart’s desire being revealed and it was all you and--” Harry paused his incoherent rambling to ask, “Why are you smiling?”
“I’m smiling,” Draco announced, “because it was you too.”
“It was me?” Harry asked dumbfounded only to be met wit a small nod from Draco.
Laughter bubbled up in Harry’s chest. Clutching his knees, Harry laughed enough that tears formed in his eyes. Through it all, he heard Draco laughing as well. It was a light and clear tone Harry hoped to hear again and hear often. They both laughed so much they ended up spread out on the floor clutching their stomachs.
As their giggles finally died down, Harry looked over at Draco laying right beside him. Turning to face him completely, Harry felt a cool hand on his cheek, pulling him in. When their lips touched, fireworks exploded under Harry’s skin and the scent of sweet vanilla and chocolate and the headiness of sandal wood and ink washed over him.