CLASS # 1 ((Gryffindors & Slytherins ; Fifth Year))

To say that his day was not going well would be the biggest understatement of the century. It was only the first week back at school and already he'd managed to get a detention with Umbridge under his belt, as well as on the wrong side of the new Gryffindor quidditch captain.  Angelina and Harry had always gotten along well but his first detention with Umbridge was scheduled on the exact night and time as their first quidditch practice of the year.  Angelina was all about team spirit and wanted everyone to get to know each other (even though Harry was certain that he probably already knew the rest of the team and they definitely already knew him).  Harry had given her a grouchy apology that hadn't really seemed to merit much more than a tight lipped nod of acceptance from Angelina before she had swept away to deliver the news to the rest of the team that their seeker would be missing the first practice.  Harry had had to use every ounce of willpower he possessed to not shout at her retreating back that she was being completely unfair in treating him like he had gone and received this detention on purpose.

And then, because of the altercation with Angelina, he was late to potions.  He knew he was late before he entered because Ron and Hermione were not outside the classroom waiting for him.  They would wait as long as they could but they would not risk getting their own detentions and insults for him.  Oh he was sure that they would have no problems with it (well, at least Ron wouldn't), but Harry wouldn't let them.  When Angelina had caught up with Harry in the hall on their way from DADA to Potions and Ron and Hermione had promised to wait by the classroom for him, Harry had given them a very dark look and demanded that they wait only if they themselves would not be late.  They had both eventually agreed that they would wait as long as possible but would not get themselves into any trouble this early in the year.  So when Harry rounded the corner and saw no one for miles he knew that he was late.  And he had half a mind to just ditch the class entirely and go work off some of his aggression by flying some laps around the quidditch pitch on his beloved firebolt.

But he refused to let himself succumb to that desire and instead pushed open the heavy wooden door, which creaked loudly, announcing his presence.  At the front of the classroom, Snape looked positively gleeful.  "Mr. Potter" he began in his usual slow, lazy drawl.  "I trust you have a good reason for being late to my class.  A note from another professor perhaps?  An awed student wanting your autograph does not count."  His eyes were dancing maliciously.  There was an outbreak of giggles from the slytherin portion of students.  Harry set his jaw.  "No."  "No" Snape repeated, lifting an eyebrow, enjoying every minute.  "Such a shame.  Well I suppose the autograph hounds don't wish to be seen with the boy who lies.  Much less appealing than the boy who lives."  He did not sound like he thought it was a shame at all.  More laughter.  "Take a seat Mr. Potter" he snapped finally when Harry refused to rise to the bait with a reply.  "Not there" he added sharply as Harry started to head for his usual seat between Ron and Hermione.  "Over there."  His eyes moved swiftly to the only open space on the other side of the classroom, right in front of Malfoy.  Harry opened his mouth furiously but Snape had turned away, preparing to start the lesson.  Harry dropped down into the assigned chair with a clenched jaw and completely stiff posture.

His day was just going from bad to worse.      

Harry set about getting his cauldron and ingredients in order, his jaw beginning to ache from keeping it clenched for so long.  He could feel Ron and Hermione watching him in concern, expecting him to blow up at some point during this class. He could feel Malfoy's eyes on his neck too, most likely waiting for the most opportune time to cause that blow up that Ron and Hermione were so worried about.  Ignoring everything but the potion ingredients before him, Harry was determined to get this one exactly right.

He was stirring in the first batch of powdered moonstone carefully, watching the color of his potion to make sure it didn't pass the appropriate shade of green when Malfoy's whiny drawl wafted over his head.  "Professor, Potter's big head is blocking my view of the instructions.  I can't see a thing."  The pinch of powdered moonstone still in Harry's hand became even more finely powdered as it clenched between his thumb and forefinger.  "You'll just have to share a desk and work station with him then.  Move up a row."  Snape gave a bored yawn to show of how little importance this was.  Malfoy's delighted smirk upped in wattage as he elbowed Harry hard in the back of the head trying to get by.  "You can see just fine" Harry griped in a low growl, trying not to wince or rub the back of his skull, as Malfoy plunked all his ingredients down next to Harry's.  Malfoy feigned a sort of injured denial at this.  "I could not!  Besides, I like it much better right..."  Quick as a flash, his right arm shot out, "accidentally" knocking a handful of powdered porcupine quills into Harry's simmering cauldron.  "Here."

The quills were not supposed to be added for another six steps and right on cue, the temperamentally tricky potion turned from an emerald green that rivaled Harry's eyes in color to a blobbish-cement-grey.  Malfoy stirred his own potion lightly a few times, watching it morph from green to blue, exactly the way it was supposed to, while Harry tried to fish the quills out in vain.  All that managed to happen was sustaining a rather large burn on his hand.  His potion was entirely ruined.  And not only was the revolting sight enough to make him certain of that, but the smell of rotten eggs began to permeate the classroom, causing almost everyone to stop what they were doing and look his way.

Including Snape.

Harry slowly raised his eyes to meet Snape's as he approached.  There was a dangerous glint there that told Harry the potions master was in a particularly fowl mood as opposed to just his usual short tempered ways.  So a smart person would have just kept their mouth shut and let Snape get a few jabs in there before starting from scratch and at least getting to attempt making the potion all over again so they could salvage a halfway decent grade for the day's work.

Not Harry.

Harry was quick to point fingers.  "It was Malfoy's fault."  He was aware of how childish that sounded but didn't much care at this moment.  Snape took a step closer.  "So Mr. Malfoy is to blame that you can not follow a simple set of instructions?"  "No, but"-  "When were the powdered porcupine quills supposed to be added, Mr. Potter?"  "After the syrup of hellebore" Harry returned promptly.  "But"-  "And when did you add them?"  "I didn't" Harry stressed, trying to get his point across.  But Snape simply chuckled dryly without an ounce of humor to be found.  "Your cauldron and the disaster inside beg to differ."  Harry's blood was really boiling now.  He stood up, bringing him to eye level with Snape, their faces dangerously close to one another.  "Sit down Mr. Potter" Snape warned in a low voice. 

"No."

Blood pounding in Harry's ears, he forced himself reluctantly back into his seat, avoiding looking at anyone, most specifically Ron, Hermione, and Draco, whose expressions he could see perfectly well in his own mind.  Hermione would look half stern and half sympathetic, Ron would look outraged, and Draco would look smugly overconfident.  Instead of checking to see how accurate he was, he pulled his potions book out from his bag and buried his face behind it, pretending to be fascinated with the instructions of making a cure for hiccups.

"Potter, come here" Snape called after a few minutes and the regular noises of potion making had restarted.  Harry tossed down his book and stalked to the front of the classroom irritably.  "What?"