Desirable ~A Drarry Fanfiction~

Let Classes Begin

            To say Harry was not looking forward to the beginning of the classes would be an understatement. What more did the boy who's saved the world numerous times now have to learn? He got the practicality of it down.

      "Settle down, class, settle down," Professor Flitwick called. He was one of the very few from Harry's previous years at Hogwarts to stay after what happened just a few months ago and the Chosen One was glad to have a few familiar faces among the staff. "I understand that some of you feel that coming back for your 8th year here might be a bit unnecessary after what you've been through —" his eyes landed directly on Harry and his friends. " — but suffice to say, you have more learning to do. Not many of you have mastered wordless nor wandless magic. These are things you may need in the upcoming years, even with You-Know— With Voldemort's defeat." It seemed it was still hard for others to say the dark wizard's name after all the years of being terrified of him.

      "Now," the small professor continued. "The charm we'll be working with is the sunlight charm, Lumos Solem, repeat." The class muttered the charm softly. "Good, now, pick up your wands and wordlessly use the incantation. The movement is simple enough, just point your wand at your target. Oh, and please use the sunglasses provided to shield your eyes from the harsh rays produced."

      The students began doing as directed. Since Harry's year had fewer students than it had in the past — only about twenty-five students out of the forty that had started — they had the same schedules outside of electives. The decline was due, in part, to some having died just last spring. Other reasons for the smaller number were some deciding they simply didn't need to finish their education, their profession of choice not requiring it, or that they didn't feel Hogwarts was as safe as it used to be. One more Harry could think of was the trauma others faced that simply wouldn't allow them to come back, and he didn't blame them one bit for it. He couldn't. Not when so many of them put their lives on the line, not when they saw their friends die before their very eyes.

      The Gryffindor shook his head and took a breath, realising now was not the time to get in his head as he picked up his wand and tried the silent spell.

      Draco watched as Harry started to overthink, wanting to snap him out of it. The blonde could tell just by the look on his face that the battle was weighing heavily on Harry's mind. He wanted to shout out that the blame should be on himself for what happened, not on the Saviour. Thankfully, before the Slytherin could make a fool of himself in front of the class, the bell chimed. The students got up and packed their things as the Charms Professor squeaked out about practising the charm on their own time and that he'd expected them to master the wordless portion at least by the end of the week.

      The day dragged on; Transfiguration, Herbology, History of Magic. It wasn't until Potions that Draco was able to focus, especially since it was his godfather who would be teaching the class. Most of the student body thought Professor Snape shouldn't have been allowed back to teach, even after Harry's insistence on his being on the "good" side from the jump over the summer. The potions master was similar to Draco in that aspect, and Draco was happy to have him there — if, for no other reason, than to be able to confide in the man he'd seen as a second father his whole life without having to use an owl for correspondence.

      The young Malfoy still had no idea why the wizarding world used owls, of all birds, for lettering, they were one of the slowest species of bird afterall. Why hadn't they switched to a falcon or something of the like yet? He'd heard the muggles had gotten rid of using birds for messaging altogether from Hermione, which completely baffled him. How did they make sure letters they sent got to the right recipient?

      Draco shook the thought from his mind and took his seat next to Goyle, giving him a curt nod before grabbing out a bit of parchment, a quill, and some ink. He organised it carefully on the table in front of him as he always did before a lesson. As the class waited, they chattered amongst themselves, not much of which Draco was interested in. That was until he'd heard his name along with Harry's in the same sentence. He glanced over to Pansy, a couple seats away from him, and caught her eye.