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mentally-in-northern-italy · 4 years ago

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The Best Potioneer (pt. 2) — Harry Potter x reader

***not my gif***

(pt. 1 can be found here)

Summary: You despise Harry. Your Slytherin friends seem to have strong opinions of him already, but during your sixth year, you also seem to have found a reason to absolutely hate the boy. But when you’re forced to work on an assignment together and stay up all night, is it possible for those feelings to change?

Word Count: ~3.4 K

A/N: Part 2 is finally here! I’m so sorry for the delay, school is really being a pain right now. Thank you for all the love you guys gave pt. 1, and I hope you like pt. 2, which will be the last part (unless I get inspired to write another one or something)! This one is very different from anything I’ve written before, and you’ll see what I mean when you read lol. Very dialogue-heavy. Enjoy!!

Another reminder: Thank you to everyone who sent in requests! I really, really appreciate it! But, since school has started, requests will most likely be delayed, as I will only be able to work on them when I have the time to. They are still open, though, so feel free, but please be aware that they will probably take a while. Thanks!

____________________

“This,” you observed, utterly unimpressed, “is just a wall. Do you need your glasses checked, Potter?”

You had shown up to the seventh floor with your bag and all your books, as promised. Harry had already been there waiting for you, leaning on a wall. He saw you approaching and had led you down the hallway, without exchanging any words. He stopped in the middle to face a bare wall, which earned him a scoff from you.

“Just wait,” he told you as he closed his eyes and visualized exactly what he wanted in the room.

“What are you doing?” you question as you walk from your spot behind him to stand beside him, “If we get caught--”

“We won’t,” he told you impatiently, “Now, please let me focus.”

You shut yourself up despite all the questions that were fighting to make their way out of your mouth. You tapped your foot impatiently, not exactly sure what was supposed to be happening.

Before you knew it, the wall that you could’ve sworn that had been there previously, had turned into a door. The door didn’t exactly look inviting, holding a similar appeal that an old Victorian library would hold.

“Come on,” Harry turned to you and gestured to you to go in, “You first.”

You would’ve scoffed at this, except you were incredibly stunned. How hadn’t you known about this room before? You took a tentative step forward and reached for the handle, turning back to Harry to check for confirmation. He nodded once.

You opened the door. It creaked slightly as you took a step inside. A small gasp escaped your lips.

“The room of requirement!” Realization set in for you as you looked around, “I’ve heard about this.”

The room was grand. That was the only way to describe it. It was dimly lit, stacked with books on old bookshelves that looked like they would collapse at any second. At the bottom of the bookshelves were cupboards, that seemed to contain even the rarest of ingredients. In the middle of it all, there was a large wooden table with two chairs on one side. Right beside it, was a rug that looked old and inviting, like something that belonged to an elderly grandma. This was exactly what you needed.

“Yeah,” Harry said as he followed in behind you and shut the door, “I came across it last year when we had our DA meetings.”

“DA?” you turned to face him, turning your back to the large wooden table.

“Oh, uh, Dumbledore’s Army.”

“Right,” you nodded as you turned around again, looking at the bookshelves and cabinets filled with Potions ingredients lining the walls, “No Slytherins were allowed, I presume?” You mocked.

“Well,” Harry tried to diffuse the tension, “I don’t know about all Slytherins… but you definitely wouldn’t be allowed.” He teased lightly.

“Oh, sod off,” you told him as you rolled your eyes. You struggled to fight the smile that was threatening to break upon your lips. Your friends hadn’t mentioned Harry would be able to make you smile so easily. Or that he would let you, a Slytherin into a room that was a designated meeting spot for Harry and his friends last year. Now that you’ve come to think of it, they didn’t mention a lot of things about Harry.

When it really came down to it, you realized in that moment that you had never really had a casual conversation with Harry. Your conversations were always filled with a competitive need to embarrass the other; there was no room for casual teasing. However, now, standing in this room with Harry behind you, you couldn’t say that you minded his presence, exactly. Like you had expected to.

You couldn’t help but ask yourself, is he really that bad?

___________________

[1:34 AM]

“Slughorn,” you decided as you sighed, “sucks.”

You and Harry were both seated at the table, sitting with your bodies slightly positioned towards each other. You were both hunched over various copies of Potions textbooks, searching desperately for any information about Memory Potions.

“Like Snape was any better,” Harry muttered distractedly, barely glancing up, as he flipped through a copy of The Art of Potion-Making, 6th edition.

“He was!” you defended him, straightening your posture and looking up at Harry’s face. Your eyes instantly landed on the tongue that he was sticking out slightly, concentrating on writing something down that he had found in the book. The way he was squinting his eyes, despite him wearing glasses. Ugh. No. Stop it!, you told yourself. You snapped your eyes back down to your textbook, “Er--, yes, Snape! He might have been a git, but at least he was a practical git. He would never give us an assignment like this.”

“He hated me,” Harry told you as he looked up from his book. He shuddered involuntarily being reminded of all the Potions classes he had to suffer while Snape was Potions Master.

“Well,” you looked up again, smirking slightly, “some would argue he sort of had the right idea with that.”

Harry sent you a look at which you chuckled slightly. The chuckle was soft, light-hearted. He had never heard you laugh like that. Oddly for Harry, he didn’t seem to mind the insult like he normally always does. On the contrary, he rather liked the sound. He didn’t know what this foreign feeling inside his chest was-- this feeling that seemed to only grow when he caught a glimpse of your hair falling onto your face as you scanned multiple textbooks at once, but he did know that he wanted to hear the sound of your laugh again.

________________

[2:06 AM]

You yawned as you pushed yourself onto your elbows. You and Harry were now situated on the rug, with you laying on your stomach, continuing your research and Harry sitting up-right trying to keep his eyes open as he, too, tried to write down all the ingredients he had managed to find in one of the textbooks.

Books were sprawled all around you. You reached to grab a copy of Advanced Potions, when you realized the closest one was actually Harry’s.

“Merlin, what’d you do to this thing?” you questioned as you turned the tattered book over to examine it, “Throw it down the Grand Staircase?”

“[Y/N], give it--” Harry had looked unusually alarmed when he caught sight of you inspecting the Potions book that was the secret to his success this year. He reached his hand out to take it from your hands but he was too late, as you had already opened the cover to find “Property of the Half-Blood Prince” scrawled neatly inside.

You looked up at Harry and then back down again. The look on Harry’s face was priceless.

You couldn’t help but start to laugh. Your quiet laughter soon grew loud and obnoxious as you sat up. The room echoed with your laugh, and it would seem, so did Harry’s heart.

“The Half-Blood Prince?” you choked out, in between laughs, “Out of all the nicknames you’ve been given, you choose that one to write in your books?” Your stomach was aching slightly and your cheekbones hurt but your laughter didn’t falter. You clutched your stomach, as you continued to holler.

Harry’s face was flushed red. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be relieved or embarrassed. Or both.

“No--” Harry stuttered as he tried to talk over your giggles that wouldn’t seem to stop, “No, I didn’t write that!”

“Oh yeah?” you teased, “Did one of the girls in your fanclub write it, then?”

“I mean,” Harry scratched the back of his neck. He was sure now that he should be embarrassed, “I would assume so.”

This only made you laugh more.

Not that Harry minded, though.

________________

[2:59 AM]

Harry wanted to talk to you.

He was sitting a few feet away from you. You two were still situated on the rug, both sitting up-right now. Both of you were starting to get tired, as you stifled yawns while consistently pouring over material that never seemed to end. You and Harry had both taken your ties off and thrown them on the floor. Your robes were tossed on the floor, in a manner that would convey a very different message as to what you two were doing than what you two were actually doing, had someone walked into the room.

Harry had tried to call you over for help multiple times now. Only so he could talk to you, so be it if it was only about the quantity of stewed mandrakes that would be required for the recipe.

But each time, you had given him a response and moved back to your spot, returning to your quiet study of textbooks.

Harry audibly sighed, hoping to get your attention, even if it was only an annoyed glance in his direction.

“What is it now, Scarhead?” you asked through a yawn. You were tired, so incredibly tired. But it seemed that whenever Harry looked at you, you seemed to wake up a little.

“I didn’t say anything,” he tried to play it cool. That’s what he was supposed to do, right?

“Oh,” you yawned again, to which Harry yawned back, “my bad, Oh Chosen One, I sincerely apologize.”

“Are you really going to use up all the names in one night?” He tried not to smile.

You did nothing to conceal your smile, making Harry’s smile appear on his face as well. You scooched over until you were sitting right beside him.

“Not if I can help it,” you turned to face him, abandoning your textbooks, “Tell me Half-Blood Prince, are there any other names you go by?”

“Well, there is one,” Harry pretended to be in deep thought.

“Really?” you asked, with exaggerated excitement in your eyes. You tried to tell yourself that this was purely because of your entertainment. It was to tease him. To belittle him. He was your rival, after all. Your mind forcibly pushed out the ridiculous notion that you were only teasing him with these names now because you found it endearing how he blushed slightly, or how, in some rare occasions, he would retort back. That was definitely not it.

“Yeah.” his breath hitched in his throat as he saw the look in your eyes. Has she always looked like that?

“Alright,” you rolled your eyes playfully, “what is it? The Four-Eyed Seeker? The Serpent Slayer?” You teased.

“Actually,” he smirked a little, “some people like to call me ‘that one guy who was able to brew a draught of living death perfectly and beat [Y/N]’.”

Your teasing composure dropped and you shot Harry an angry look. Without thinking twice, you raised your hand to flick Harry on the forehead.

“Ow!” he cried out, clutching his head more in surprise than in pain. You had made sure not to hurt him.

“You can add that to your scar collection, Potter.”

At this, Harry also raised his hand to flick you softly on the forehead. It felt more like a tap on the head than a flick, but you flinched regardless.

“Now, we can have matching ones…?” he joked weakly.

It was as if time had stopped for a while, with both of you staring at each other. You, in shock, and Harry in something that could only be described as embarrassed nervousness. All you could think was, What an absolute dork! Is he really the guy that Voldemort is hell-bent on defeating?

Meanwhile, Harry wanted to climb into a hole and die, because he could not believe he had just said that.

You wanted to be mad at him. You wanted to be furious. But your anger died down instantly after one glance at his nervous and crooked smile. Frankly, his weak attempt at getting you back was too dorky to be mad at. But you would never admit that.

You huffed in exaggerated annoyance and picked your textbook back up again. Only, you stayed sitting beside him on the rug. You both returned to reading as your arms kept brushing against one another’s comfortably, making you both tingly, causing you two to look at each other from time to time. Harry would shoot you a smile, and you would try your very hardest to scowl at him.

Harry could see through it, though.

Comfortable silence ensued, filled with the faint sound of turning pages and two hearts beating, simultaneously.

_______________

[3:25 AM]

Your eyes drooped closed as you managed to snap them back open yet again. It had been a long night, for sure, and you and Harry were nowhere near being done.

“Did we really have to do this tonight?” Harry muttered, a little irritated. He had Quidditch tomorrow. He needed his sleep. He rested his head in his hands, as he leaned over the table with his elbows on it. You were sitting beside him in a similar position as you massaged the temples of your head that were starting ache.

“Yes,” you muttered back, “how many times do I have to tell you? We would’ve lost if we hadn’t.”

“Of course,” he groaned with fatigue.

“You know,” you turn to look at him, “this is a group project. Stop acting like I’m doing this for myself.”

“I never said that,” he replied, “Just-- It’s just that we’re nowhere close to being done.” He rubbed his eyes tiredly. He needed to be well-rested to properly argue with you.

“We just need to find the antidote to the crushed sea worms,” you tried to recall, “It’ll balance the potion out. And then, we can start brewing.”

“I’m taking a break, [Y/N], wake me up in five minutes?” Harry asked you as he slurred some of his words, being overcome with sleep. Without waiting for a response, he rested his head on the table and closed his eyes.

“Fine. Only five minutes!”

_________________

[3:33 AM]

It had been a little more than five minutes. You knew this.

Yet, you didn’t have the heart to wake him up. He looked so peaceful, with his mouth slightly open and his glasses pressed up against the side of his face and the table.

You hesitantly extended your hand to gently take his glasses off. He stirred a little in his sleep and scratched his face softly, but much to your relief, didn’t wake up. You set his glasses down carefully on the table and tried to return back to your work when you heard a sound.

Snoring. Harry had already started to snore.

They weren’t loud snores. They were soft, gentle. You couldn’t help but smile a little as you looked at the boy snoozing beside you.

Perhaps you were too tired to think deeper, or maybe you just knew the answer already, but you didn’t even bother to ask yourself why you were acting this way. Why weren’t you annoyed by the snores? Why hadn’t you woken him up? For Merlin’s sake, what was with all that smiling?

And most importantly, why were you enjoying working on this blasted project with your arch-nemesis Harry Potter?

________________

The first rays of sunshine poured through the small windows that were lined against the walls, illuminating everything that had previously been dim and hard to see.

Under normal circumstances, this morning would’ve seemed peaceful. Almost ethereal, even.

But as your eyes fluttered open and took in the scene that seemed to appear in front of them, the only thing that you felt was panic.

Your head was resting on the table, with your nose only millimetres away from Harry’s. If you had moved only a fraction of a millimetre, your nose would’ve brushed against his.

Before you had the chance to properly be flustered by this, reality set in.

“Harry!” You practically screamed, “Wake up, Harry!” You sat up in your seat with a jolt and tried to shake Harry awake.

Harry stirred slightly, and furrowed his brows, but didn’t wake up.

“I swear, Potter, if you don’t wake up, right now!” You shouted again.

This seemed to work, for as soon as Harry’s eyes opened, his face also contorted into a panicked expression that was similar to yours. You two had overslept, and missed breakfast. Not only would this raise suspicion among your peers, but if you didn’t hurry, you would miss your first-period Potions class, consequently losing the competition.

“Did you brew the potion?” Harry questioned hastily, as he attempted to smooth his messy morning hair and rush to pack up the scattered books and papers, “Why didn’t you wake me up!”

“Luckily for you, I did!” You replied just as hastily, looking around frantically for your bag and books, “Come on, hurry up!”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Harry snapped, as he looked for his robes and ties. He quickly picked up a tie off of the floor as you did the same.

Taking one last look around to make sure you hadn’t missed anything, and picking up the vial of the memory potion that you had prepared before falling asleep last night, you two were off, running as fast as your legs allowed to claim your victory.

_________________

“Congratulations!” Slughorn exclaimed as he beamed at you, the class surrounding you and Harry as you two stood at the front of the class and the noise of applause filled your ears, “I expected nothing less from my two star students!”

Your heart seemed to swell at your success, and you couldn’t stop yourself from beaming. You and Harry stood side by side, basking in glory, so be it if it was with incredibly deep eye bags, incredibly unruly hair, and a bad migraine from the lack of sleep. You exchanged a few small smiles with Harry that seemed to only make this moment better.

After the prolonged appreciation of your success, you separated from Harry, and walked over to stand beside Millicent, as Harry walked to the other side of the group to stand with Ron and Hermione. As Slughorn started to demonstrate for your next assignment, Millicent smirked at you.

“Nice tie, [Y/L/N],” she sneered as she leaned over, “Looks like Potions wasn’t the only thing you two were doing all night.”

Horrified, as you glanced down to your tie, the world seemed to stop.

It was a Gryffindor tie. You had taken his, and him yours. Your face burned red as you quickly rushed to take the tie off. But many people had already noticed, as they all glanced about, smirking and muttering things about your and Potter’s eventful night.

On the other side of the group, Ron and Hermione looked positively flabbergasted at the sight of Harry’s green and silver tie.

“Mate… your--your tie,” Ron whispered to Harry quietly.

“Wha--?” To say that Harry was petrified, and frozen in his spot when he caught a glimpse of your tie around his neck would be an understatement. His eyes shot towards you, but you did everything you had to do to avoid his eyes.

“Well… um, how was it?” Ron questioned uncertainly, only adding to the awkwardness of this situation.

“Ronald!” Hermione exclaimed, hitting Ron on the arm scoldingly.

“What? I’m only asking!”

_________________

“Hey.”

You turned around to see Harry, looking dashing in his suit, with an awkward smile on his stupidly handsome face.

“Hey,” you said back with a smile, and turned back to the scene in front of you.

Slughorn’s Christmas party.

Of course, you had come. You couldn’t stand to disappoint Slughorn, especially when he had finally started to acknowledge you more in class.

Now, you were standing here in your extremely uncomfortable dress and heels, watching people dancing, and socializing, in which you were taking no part. The only thing that was on your mind was how much you wished that you hadn’t come tonight.

“You…, uh--came alone?” Harry questioned as he took a step forward to stand beside you and watch both of your dates dancing with other partners.

“No,” you rolled your eyes playfully, “I’m not that much of a loser.”

Harry grinned at this, feeling as if this playful remark had broken through the tension that ensued between you two ever since the tie incident.

“Of course,” Harry nodded, smiling stupidly.

“I bet you came alone, though,” you teased, nudging his shoulder a little.

“Funnily enough, no,” Harry replied smugly. You tried to ignore how your heart dropped a little at this.

“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow, “who’s the unlucky lady?”

“Luna. Although, she seems a bit preoccupied with Neville at the moment.”

You turned to look where he was looking to see Luna conversing excitedly with Neville.

“Hm,” you hummed, “Zabini seems a little busy himself.” You shifted your gaze to Zabini, who was dancing with some Ravenclaw girl that you had never seen.

Both of you were quiet for a moment, enjoying the company of the other and watching the terrible attempts at dancing on the dance floor.

Out of nowhere, Harry broke the silence, “Want to get out of here?”

Surprised, you turned to him, “What?”

“You don’t seem to be enjoying this any more than I am, “ Harry stated, rubbing his sweaty palms on his trousers, “let’s leave.”

“And go where?” This prospect didn’t sound half bad to you.

“Up to you.”

“Um,” you crossed your arms, and thought for a moment, “Have you ever stargazed?”

Harry looked dumbfounded. “No…?”

“Great, let’s go.” And with that, you took his arm and led the way.

___________________

The Astronomy Tower was particularly chilly tonight, but you two seemed to have forgotten all about the temperature as soon as you caught sight of the beautiful view of the night sky, teeming with stars.

“Y’know, I almost asked you to the party tonight,” Harry blurted out without thinking about it too much. Clearly, he had gotten far too comfortable, lying on his back beside you, looking up at the stars. He tried to keep his calm as he waited for a response from you.

“What stopped you?” you turned your head to face him, genuinely curious. Your heartbeat had started to beat faster, and your stomach felt weird and queasy.

“I--,” Harry wasn’t expecting a serious response, so he gulped a little before turning his face to face you, “Well, I didn’t want to make it weird, I guess. I wasn’t sure… of what you would’ve said.”

“So…” you smirked, “in other words, you were too much of a coward.”

“What? Absolutely not! I just--. Well--”

“Well,” you smiled a little, “I would’ve said yes if you had, hypothetically, of course, gathered up your courage and asked me. I don’t seem to mind your company nearly as much as one would think.”

“Yeah?” his heart seemed to skip a beat as he looked into your eyes, which sparkled from the reflections of the stars above. He was, quite literally, star-struck.

“Yeah,” you smiled, finally giving up on trying to hide your feelings, and allowing yourself to come to terms with them instead, “I wouldn’t even dream of giving up the opportunity to go out with the mighty Half-Blood Prince.”

Harry groaned, as you erupted into a fit of giggles.

“I would much rather prefer if you called me by my other nickname,” Harry said slowly, his lips curling upwards.

“Which is?”

“The best potioneer,” he grinned. The roles had been reversed, and now it was time for you to roll your eyes and for Harry to chuckle.

The rest of the night was filled with playful banter, with laughs and jokes, and with insults that weren’t very insulting, all the while gazing up at the stars. Though, Harry wasn’t too focused on the beautiful celestial bodies that seemed to occupy the night sky above, as the only beautiful thing he was interested in gazing at, at the moment, was you.

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@bisexualprinxexx @parkeroffline

#harrypotter #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harrypotterfics #harrypotterfanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter oneshots #harrypotteroneshots #enemies to lovers #harrypotterxreader #harry potter x reader #harrypotterxyou #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n

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mentally-in-northern-italy · 4 years ago

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The Best Potioneer (pt. 1) — Harry Potter x reader

***not my gif***

Request: “Hii, I love your work! I was wondering if I could request a Harry x Slytherin!reader, maybe set during the last year at Hogwarts and enemies to lovers? Thank you 💚”

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: Thank you so much for the request @obsessedwithrandomthings ! Ahhh, I really hope I did it justice!! I’m sorry I had to split it up into two parts because it turned out *way* longer than I expected it to! It was so hard to come up with a valid reason to hate Harry, he’s such a sweetheart, but I tried my best lmao. Anyways, I had such a fun time writing this and I really hope you enjoy!! And stay tuned for part 2!

__________________

You crossed your legs as you nodded politely in agreement with something that Professor Slughorn had said. In all honesty, you had had no idea what he was rambling on about, no one did, really, but still your face held a bright smile as you nodded once again. Your head of house, Professor Slughorn had invited you, among with various others, to his newly formed club.

Your eyes briefly surveyed the others that were sat at the table with you, all listening -- or at least, pretending to listen -- to the Professor about some very rare ingredient that he skillfully was able to find in some remote region. To your right sat Blaise Zabini, a fellow Slytherin, and to your left, a Hufflepuff that you had never talked to before.

All of them were here for one reason, of course; they seemed to show that they were extraordinarily skilled at something. Or, they were related to someone who was. You hoped it was the former in your case.

You liked to believe that you were here not because of your extremely famous Potioneer father but because of the talent you, yourself, possessed when it came to Potions.

Potions had always been your favourite. You liked other things, of course, but none of them satisfied you like Potions did. The feeling of accomplishment as you gaze down at a finished recipe in your cauldron bubbling, to you, was exhilarating, and you couldn’t seem to get enough of it.

Evidently, this was also the case for your father, who after graduating Hogwarts, had gone on to become a Potioneer, brilliant in his field, and make a name for himself. You hoped that you would be able to do the same.

“But enough of me blabbering on,” Slughorn chuckled heartily, “I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities to hear me talk about myself.”

You met his gaze and smiled politely, making sure that he knows you’re paying attention.

See, Snape had always been fond of you. Snape, as the Potions Professor, gave you brilliant marks (which you deserved, in all fairness) and didn’t even try to hide the fact that you were his favourite. While others got a cold and disapproving glare from him when they had made a mistake, you received helpful insight on where you went wrong. Snape gave others a monotone sentence of approval at their success, while he gave you… Well, he gave you the same thing, really, but you could tell it was more heartfelt. As heartfelt as it gets, coming from Snape and all.

You were determined to impress Slughorn as well. You had decided that sheer talent can only go so far; teachers were human, too, after all. It was with no doubt that you concluded that every teacher ought to have a favourite, someone they will always favour over the next. And, similarly, every teacher has one student they would never think twice about, someone they didn’t even notice. While you were certainly grateful that you weren’t the latter, you weren’t exactly pleased at your position in the middle. It had always been all or nothing for you. You wanted to be the favourite. The best there can be.

But, that was proving to be a little difficult and unexpectedly, it was because of a certain raven-haired, bespectacled, and utterly clueless -- in your humble opinion -- Gryffindor boy.

You had never paid much attention to Harry. He had always been insignificant in your life, having only shared a couple classes with him over the years. And, even in those classes, you had only exchanged a few occasional words. The bottom line was, you didn’t hate Harry and you didn’t like him. He was just… Harry. A Gryffindor.

It was almost as if the universe saw this and decided that this wasn’t enough. Just like you disliked your mediocre position in Slughorn’s class, the universe disliked Harry’s mediocre presence in your life. After all, you were always one to go big or to go home.

It was as if Harry had been pushed onto the stage that was your life, forced to play a role, as soon as your sixth-year Potions classes had begun. And, Harry might be a hero to some, but in your play, he was easily the opposite.

All because Harry had started doing exceptionally well in Potions. You didn’t know what it was. His potions always turned out perfect, capturing Slughorn’s praise. Praise that you wish you were receiving. Naturally, before you knew it, it turned into a competition, both determined to out-shine the other. You couldn’t let him beat you.

A recent occurrence annoyed you, in particular, just a few weeks ago, when Harry was able to brew a draught of Living Death perfectly, and in record time. You were close, of course, but Harry had managed to do it before you, resulting in him getting awarded with a vial of Felix Felicis and getting praised relentlessly by Slughorn. Harry, being aware of just how much you resented him doing better than you in Potions, sent you a small smile as he stood at the front of the class, holding up the vial of the luck potion. It was clear at this moment that you had to be better than Harry. There was no other option. Excelling at Potions was in your blood.

However, the sole reason behind your undying hatred for the boy was not just the fact that he had magically turned into a brilliant Potioneer. No, it was also because of your friends, who were mainly Slytherins, had told you all about their interactions with him over the years when you brought up how he seemed to have claimed your spot at the top of the class. Since you only got a one-sided testimony from your friends, you were always led to believe that Harry was in the wrong.

If Harry were being honest, he wasn’t exactly sure why you hated him and wanted to beat him so badly in Potions. Regardless of the reason, Harry certainly wasn’t one to back out from some (un?)healthy competition. A part of him only seemed to want to compete with you on principle; a typical Slytherin vs. Gryffindor feud. He certainly didn’t take this little competition as seriously as you did.

But this ‘competition’ for you meant a lot more.

“Ah, Ms. [Y/L/N],” Slughorn directly acknowledged you for the first time that evening, “how lovely it is to have you here!”

“It’s a pleasure to be here, sir,” you replied kindly.

“Tell me, how is your father doing?” Slughorn questioned with genuine curiosity, “I haven’t heard from him in ages! Correct me if I’m wrong, Ms. [Y/L/N], last I heard, he was running some sort of experiment trial with sleeping potions?”

Your heart sank. You couldn’t help but think you were only here because of your father. You despised the thought. You caught your smile from faltering and took a breath in.

“He’s doing well, Professor,” you nodded, “And yes, he is running an experiment with sleeping potions. Unfortunately, he hasn’t shared much about it with me just yet.”

“Oh, yes, yes,” Slughorn said to you, “He was always quite the expert at sleeping potions…”

He paused at this before smiling and turning his gaze from you to Harry, sat directly across from you, “But of course, we have another emerging sleep potion expert in the room!”

At this, you grudgingly turned your head to Harry as well.

Great. Just the thing you needed this evening; to be reminded of your failure to brew a sleeping potion, one that your father would easily be able to brew in his sleep.

You continued to try to smile politely as Slughorn once again, started to praise Harry for his perfect potion. Harry smiled and accepted the compliments quietly, but he shot you a few glances in between, which only made you angrier.

“Quite remarkable, indeed,” Slughorn praised, “Wouldn’t you agree, Ms. [Y/L/N]?”

“Yes,” you agreed, still smiling, although you knew that everyone could tell it wasn’t genuine, “It is quite interesting how much Harry has been able to improve this year.”

“Indeed, indeed,” came Slughorn’s response who nodded and smiled at Harry.

“In my opinion, it just seems too good to be true,” you continued, your smile turning more into a grimace, as you shifted a little in your seat, “how exactly did you manage to brew a potion like the draught of Living Death so brilliantly, even though you could barely manage to brew a draught of Peace just last year, Harry?” You tried to keep your tone curious and casual, but you failed as a few murmurs broke out amongst the table, clearly picking up on the tension in the air.

“Well,” Harry began, holding your gaze keenly and smiling slightly, “I just followed the recipe.”

“Of course,” you said as you nodded slightly, patronizing him, “but was crushing the sopophorous bean in the recipe?”

“I--” Harry tried to reply as he, too, shifted in his seat. His smile had vanished.

“And,” you continued as you rested your elbows on the table, “Is ‘following the recipe’ a newly acquired skill?”

“No,” Harry kept his calm as you struggled to do the same.

“Because, if I recall, you couldn’t simply ‘follow the recipe’ last year,” you accused and narrowed your eyes. You had stopped pretending to be polite. More whispers and murmurs broke out while Slughorn watched this scene unfold in distress, “Or the year before that, or--”

“Are you trying to imply that I cheated, [Y/L/N]?”

“How lovely of you to finally catch on, Potter.”

Slughorn seemed to have decided that he had seen enough. “Alright! That’s enough, Mr. Potter and Ms. [Y/L/N]! Everyone, help yourself to this delicious chocolate cake! This ought to calm some of you down a notch...“

You and Harry kept your gazes on each other, both unwilling to break first as several people around you finally started to talk again, instead of listening intently to the heated interaction between you two.

Finally, Harry was first to break, looking away from you and picking up his cutlery.

__________________________

If it wasn’t already clear to you that this year just was not your year, it became clear when Slughorn declared that your class would be working with partners on the next assignment.

It became crystal clear, however, when you got partnered up with none other than Harry Potter.

You groaned as you walked back to your assigned seat beside Harry after arguing -- respectfully, of course, -- with Slughorn for fifteen minutes straight on just how well you could do on this assignment by yourself. It would be an understatement to say that you were severely displeased when Slughorn repeatedly suggested this was a two-person job.

You took a seat beside him with a frown set on your face, as Harry glanced at you from the corner of his eye. He was dreading this as well, of course, but certainly not as much as you seem to be dreading this. Was it because you hated that he was a Gryffindor? Perhaps you thought he was lesser-than because he was a half-blood? Or because he hung out with the Weasleys and Granger, both considered to be near the bottom of the wizarding social status hierarchy? He decided that it most likely was a combination of all of these, judging from the green and silver on your robes.

The truth was though, you couldn’t care less about what house he was in. Or, who his friends were. And, you certainly didn’t give a damn about his status. You resented him because he was doing better in Potions than you were, but you hated him because that was just the norm. You were expected to hate him. Only now, you actually had a reason to.

But now, because he was paired up with you, his failure was your failure. His success was your success. You couldn’t one-up him this time… you would have to actually cooperate with him. Interact with him. You scrunched up your face at the thought.

“Memory potions!” Slughorn clapped his hands as he started to tell the class about their upcoming assignment, “Who can recall what those are?” He chuckled slightly at his own joke.

Hermione Granger’s hand shot up.

“They’re exactly that, sir,” she informed, “They can boost one’s memory for up to six hours, depending on the dosage.”

“Yes!” Slughorn seemed pleased at the answer, “Yes, Ms. Granger! Memory potions are very powerful, indeed… I had a particularly nasty experience with those once…” He trailed off into telling his very underwhelming anecdote that no one really cared much for.

“Oh no,” you whispered, not particularly to anyone, as you realized it’s going to take Slughorn a while to actually get to the point.

“We’ll be here a while,” Harry whispered back, which surprised you. It was a very rare occurrence for you two to whisper to each other, and even more unusual for you two to be agreeing.

“But never mind that!” Slughorn said finally, “You lot will be brewing memory potions!”

Almost instantly, you grabbed a hold of your Advanced Potions book to examine the recipe. A few others did the same and Slughorn visibly noticed.

“Ah,” he said, “You won’t find the recipe in there. You will have to find the recipe yourselves.” He smiled. “After finding the precise list of ingredients and measurements, I would like you, with your partners, to brew the potion.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in concentration. Find the recipe?

“This assignment is, of course,” Slughorn went on, “a competition. The first pair of students to successfully brew a memory potion with effects lasting for precisely 7 hours will receive an O on the next essay!” He smiled as his eyes moved around the room. “You have until next week, but this potion can be done in a day...” His smile grew, waiting for a reaction from the group.

The students in the room all had no idea how to proceed. Find the recipe? 7 hours? This assignment seemed like way too much work, all for an O on the next essay?

“Alright! Get to work, you lot,” Slughorn urged as he laughed and walked back to his desk, failing to elaborate.

You looked around the room to find that everyone had started to talk to their partners, trying to figure out how they would be going about this peculiar task.

“We need to stay up all night,” you said quickly, turning your head to face Harry.

“What? Why?” he questioned with confusion in his eyes, “We have a week!”

“Zabini and Greengrass will most definitely stay up all night,” you told him urgently, “I know it. We need to beat them.”

“But--” Harry tried to reason with you. Spending all night working on potion with you? He wasn’t exactly looking forward to it.

“Look, do you know where we might be able to do this?” you ignored what he said previously, turning to get a fresh piece of parchment, “I was thinking of an abandoned classroom, but Filch will easily catch us.”

Harry did know a place. But did he really want to work on a potion all night? With you, no less?

“Fine,” you sighed as you once again turned to face him, “You need to sneak me into your common room then.”

“What? No!” he exclaimed, alarmed. He was not about to do that. For all he knew, this was all just some clever ploy to get back at the Gryffindors for beating the Slytherins in the Quidditch match last week.

“Where else would we go?” you question irritably.

“What about your common room?”

“No. I already told you Zabini and Greengrass will probably use it to brew their potion tonight.”

“But, I can’t sneak you in.”

“You have to!”

Harry was conflicted. He couldn’t sneak you into his common room, and he didn’t even want to think about what would happen if he were caught in your common room.

“Fine, okay,” Harry said as he fixed the glasses on his face, thinking, “I might know a place.”

“Okay?” you said, getting incredibly frustrated at his cryptic response, “Please enlighten me, oh Chosen One.”

“Just meet me on the seventh floor tonight.” He ignored your clever response and gave you a straightforward one. Like he always did.

“But there--” you tried to protest. The seventh floor had no classrooms that you could use.

“Just--” Harry also seemed to be getting frustrated as he insisted, “Just do it. Alright?”

“Fine,” you crossed your arms and leaned back into your seat.

You expected the night to go horribly. You expected a dreadful night, filled with insults. You expected your hatred for Harry to only have increased in the morning. What you didn’t expect was what actually happened.

(Part 2 has been posted!)

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