Chapter Text
“Now, open your textbooks to page 309 and begin reading the passage on…”
Harry’s mind began to wander away from the droning of Severus Snape’s drawling vowels. The school year was only halfway through, and his classes had only gotten increasingly dull. Ever since Voldemort had been defeated at the Ministry last year, Harry hadn’t been able to find anything to be interested in anymore. He found everything to be incredibly dull, and it was really taking a toll on his mental health. He often snapped at Hermione and Ron, and he wasn’t ever hungry. His weight was dropping. He began to do worse and worse in classes that he used to enjoy. He hadn’t told Sirius any of this, he didn’t want to worry his Godfather or Sirius’s husband Remus. They had too much to deal with; the press was only just barely calming down.
Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his wild black hair. In the seat to his left, he heard a snicker. He looked up over the rim of his glasses. His mood worsened considerably when he saw the source of the snicker: Draco Malfoy. Malfoy’s bright green eyes shone with something akin to malice. His slicked-back blonde hair was flawless, not a hair out of place, unlike Harry’s hair, which looked like it hadn’t been brushed in a few days. And it probably hadn’t. Harry had overslept the whole week and every morning he was in such a hurry to get ready that he overlooked some things.
“Whatsa matter, Potter?” Draco whispered. He put a sharp emphasis on the P in Potter, spittle escaping between his lips. Harry hated it when he did that. “Lusting over a girl? The little Weasley, perhaps? You know, I hear she’s got the hots for you.” Draco’s face twisted into a cruel sneer. Harry sat upright, glaring at Malfoy. His glasses came slightly askew and he angrily pushed them back into place.
“Oh shut up, Malfoy. You know nothing about me. All you do is sit around on your lazy arse all day and grumble about how unfair it all is! At least I’ve done something meaningful with my life!” Unfortunately, in his anger, Harry forgot he was in the middle of a class. Specifically Severus Snape’s Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
“Potter!” Harry’s head snapped towards the front of the classroom, face turning red. Snape was holding open a textbook and had his wand in front of him. His waxy skin was lax, and his face was expressionless. His greasy black hair that always disgusted Hermione hung in strands down his back. Harry saw deep into his cool, dark eyes. He saw the disgust Snape felt every time he had to gaze upon his former rival’s son. And he also saw the satisfaction that Snape got when getting Harry into trouble. Harry was embarrassed to be caught by Snape. He hated conforming to him.
“Yelling out in class is not permitted. From anyone. Just because you managed to defeat Voldemort last year…”
Harry blushed and put his head down on his desk. He tucked his face between his folded arms and felt awkward tears stinging his eyes. He didn’t like to think about it. Didn’t like to think about the fact that he had to sacrifice everything to save everything. It was too painful. Harry stared at his desk. There was an F+V carved into the desk. He tried to concentrate on that rather than on the bright flashes of green and the sharp sound of shattering glass currently looping in his head.
Suddenly Harry felt a sharp pain on the back of his head. He shot up and cried out, rubbing his scalp. Snape was standing over him. He had obviously used his wand to get Harry’s attention.
“Mr. Potter, I will not have you ignoring me in my class. Ten points from Gryffindor!” Behind Harry, Ron groaned. In the seat to his right, Hermoine cried out.
“Ten points?!” She cried, pushing her brown hair out of her eyes. Snape turned to her, his deep, watery eyes picking apart her soul. To her credit, Hermione stayed firm.
“Yes, ten points, Miss Granger. Five for disrupting the class, five more for disrespecting the teacher.”
“But it wasn’t his fault, Malfoy provoked-”
“Do you want me to make it five more?” Snape stared pointedly at Hermoine. She finally faltered under his gaze and glanced at Harry. She bit her cheek and turned back to Snape.
“No, sir, but I don’t think this is fair-”
“Fifteen points from Gryffindor and detention for both Granger and Potter.” Hermoine’s mouth dropped open, and Harry’s face turned an even darker shade of red.
“Hey!” Ron called out from behind Harry. “If you’re going to give them detention, then I- OUCH!” Harry subtly poked Ron’s knee with his wand. The message was clear: Shut up.
“What was that, Mr. Weasley?” Snape asked.
“Nothing,” Ron grumbled.
“Good, now…” Snape walked back towards the front of the class. Harry turned to Hermoine and mouthed Sorry . Hermoine shrugged and turned back to her textbook. Harry could tell it was taking everything in her not to cry. She couldn’t afford to clean the trophy case or exterminate the flesh-eating slugs in Hagrid’s pumpkin patch; she had way too much homework. All of a sudden, a surge of anger washed over Harry. Despite being more depressed lately, he was still very defensive of his friends. They meant more to him than anything in the world. He turned towards Malfoy and talked in a hushed voice.
“How dare you. Now me and Hermione are in trouble. Thanks a lot, Malfoy.” Harry spat his name with utter disgust. Draco snorted and rolled his eyes.
“Oh please. You think I care if that mudblood gets caught in our crossfire? That’s just a bonus. As long as you get to suffer, I’m fine.” He licked his pale lips and turned back to the front of the class, pretending nothing was wrong. Harry became furious, but he now knew better than to cry out.
Glancing up to make sure Snape wasn’t watching, Harry turned to the back of the textbook and ripped a small square out of one of the blank back pages. He took a gray feathered quill out of his canvas bag hanging off the side of his desk and subtly wrote something on the paper.
It must be so Terrible , having a father who worked for Voldemort. How’s that going for you? Isn’t he in prison?
Harry sneakily slipped the paper into the middle of Malfoy’s textbook. Malfoy glanced at Harry with wary curiosity and picked up the paper. He carefully unfolded the cream parchment. Harry directed his attention to the front of the classroom, preparing himself for the outburst. When it came, Harry barely flinched.
“POTTER! YOU DARE BRING UP MY FATHER, YOU-, YOU-”
“MALFOY!” Snape glared daggers at Malfoy’s desk, where the pale boy had stood up. Malfoy’s face was turning red. “You will not interrupt my class like that. Detention!” Harry smirked because he knew, despite how much Snape loved his Slytherins, he loved his power as a teacher even more.
Malfoy’s face slowly paled and even turned faintly green as he slid back into his seat. He stared at his textbook, expressionless. Harry had expected more resistance from Draco and felt an odd pang in his stomach. Guilt? Sympathy? No, that was crazy. Malfoy got what was coming to him. There was no need to feel bad about it. Harry pushed the feeling aside and went back to daydreaming, thinking about his parents and Sirius, and trying not to think about the Ministry and Voldemort.