In the Air: A Drarry Story

Chapter 1: Love Scents

"Good morning, class," Professor Slughorn said cheerfully as he jostled in through the polished black door of the dungeons. Harry sighed. It was a Monday morning, and though he'd made sure to go to bed the previous night at a decent hour--recently he'd grown into an increasingly bad habit of playing wizards chess in the common room with Ron until the early hours of dawn--he hadn't gotten a good nights sleep in the least. He'd been plagued by nightmares, the same dreams he'd been having since he'd gotten back at Hogwarts just a month ago.

"Good morning Professor Slughorn," the class droned back. It was obvious Harry wasn't the only one sleep deprived. Slughorn didn't seem to notice, however. He was too busy laying out jar upon jar of potion ingredients on the desk before him, while humming the school anthem a little off-key.

Harry yawned and glanced around the room. Hermione and Ron were sitting in front of him--they'd taken to sitting together in most classes the three of them shared. Harry didn't mind really, after all he'd expected it to happen eventually, only that it left him sitting with Neville Longbottom, a person he wasn't all too keen to share a cauldron with.

On the other side of the room, separated by an imaginary line of pride and rivalry, were the Slytherins. Harry hadn't been exactly thrilled to learn he'd be having double potions first thing Monday morning with the Slytherins of all people, but the initial disappointment had worn off. After defeating Voldemort, even the Slytherins seemed okay.

Despite the fact that everything seemed to be in order, Harry couldn't help but feel as if something was out of place. Maybe it's just the effect of a sleep deprived state, he thought, shifting again in his chair.

The door banged open suddenly, causing Harry's head to snap up in surprise. Draco Malfoy stared back at his confused classmates for half a second, then turned and stalked to the back of the classroom, where Pansy Parkinson had saved him a seat. And suddenly all seemed right with the world, like that satisfying moment you pop the last piece into a jigsaw puzzle.

Harry was keen to notice the subtle glares and whispering Malfoy's entrance had caused. After the Battle of Hogwarts, Malfoy's reputation had suffered greatly. Lucius Malfoy had been thrown in Azkaban, and Draco and Narcissa were put on probation. Harry hadn't thought Draco would choose to return to Hogwarts for his eighth year, so when he saw the familiar white blond head sitting alone at the far end of the Slytherin table at the start of term feast, he'd been surprised. However, despite being back at Hogwarts, Malfoy was suffering consequences. Most of the students who knew Malfoy, or had at least heard of him, harbored an extreme dislike or hatred for his family--especially those who's friends or family members had died at the hands of his father. Even most of the Slytherins hated Malfoy, and Harry had a feeling the teachers didn't feel much different, though he couldn't be positive.

"You are three minutes late, Mr. Malfoy," Professor Slughorn said sternly, giving Malfoy what was obviously meant to be an appraising look but actually just looked rather constipated. Harry thought that Slughorn probably was the teacher that hated Malfoy the most, if he had to guess.

"I'm aware," Malfoy said coolly, gazing back at Slughorn with obvious mutual dislike.

"Very well then. Ten points from Slytherin," Slughorn said, his frown splitting his forehead in two. This caused several more Slytherins to turn to Malfoy with obvious dislike or even contempt. Malfoy simply seemed put-out.

Harry allowed his mind to wander. Because of all of this, Malfoy seemed a completely different person, he thought. He was less vile, for one thing. Whenever Harry passed him in the halls now, instead of the usual sneer and some sort of insult, Malfoy kept his head down. They'd been paired together once in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and instead of the usual snide comments about his handiwork, Harry was met with silence. He had to admit, on some occasions he found himself directly trying to irritate Malfoy, just to see if he could gain a reaction from him. In the past month, he had only succeeded on one occasion and it was purely accidental: he'd bumped into Malfoy on the way back to his seat and Malfoy had muttered "Watch where you're going, Potter," before stalking away.