Transition

“Hurry up, Ron!” Seamus was shouting the next morning.

“I’m hurrying; I’m hurrying! Don’t rush me!” the redhead yelled as he pulled his jumper over his head.

Harry laughed at the miniature chaos that was occurring in their dormitory as he gelled his short black hair, half-listening to his mirror’s advice at the same time. He was cleaning up when Hermione and Ginny burst into the room, and he laughed again when he saw the frizzy-haired girl pull Ron down onto a chair and start brushing his hair.

“Hermione,” he protested weakly, but she just clucked at him, oblivious to the catcalls.

“Who will you be trying to impress today, Harry?” Dean asked, grinning from ear to ear.

The emerald-eyed teenager grinned. “Malfoy. Who else?” he replied smoothly and got a mouthful of his pillow. “No one,” he amended.

“Good. That means we go in a group everywhere,” Seamus said, face filled with satisfaction. “It gets so boring when me and Neville end up shopping alone. Unlike you,” he sighed mournfully, “no ladies have yet to see the gentlemen in us.” Neville blushed and coughed fitfully in embarrassment.

“There, Ron.” Hermione kissed the boy soundly on the cheek. “Now let’s get to the Entrance Hall.”

It was confusing trying to get down to the common room; the staircase was congested with excited students, although the first and second-year students looked glum.

“Urgh! I hate crowds,” Ginny said in a small voice, looking a little pale. The group sped up, quietly working in unison to get the red-haired witch out into the open as soon as possible.

The girl had developed claustrophobia, no thanks to the Dark Lord. As Ginny had been ‘exposed’ to him before, it was easy for Voldemort to subvert her will and the powerful wizard had locked her in her own mind, with scarcely space for her to breathe. Harry couldn’t quite understand how one could get claustrophobic just by being tortured mentally, but Voldemort had damaged Ginny all the same.

All of them ran out to meet the weak sunshine and waved at Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall who stood watching them by the gates. Harry started as he watched Remus and Snape board a carriage. A flash of white caught his eye, and he saw that Draco was looking in his direction, and he was smiling.

He seems to be smiling more often than not. But why don’t I find it reassuring? He gave the Slytherin an uncertain smile that was tinged with shyness as well. Certainly, a genuine smile is better than the ‘sneer’, the one that always made me wish that I could bash his face.

Ron, Hermione, Neville and himself shared one stagecoach while Ginny, Dean and Seamus entered the one behind them. Harry was content listening to Ron and Hermione chat about the first shop they would go into, and turned his thoughts inwards. He was slightly uneasy when he came to the realization that perhaps - perhaps - Draco had warmed up to his company. I don’t mind it so much that he is my tutor now, he acknowledged silently.

They reached Hogsmeade station, got off the carriage, and waited for the rest of their friends to catch up. Harry stood to one side as Ron informed them their plans, and saw Draco again. The boy was looking at him peculiarly and when he realized that Harry had caught him staring, his cheeks reddened and he disappeared in a mass of swirling robes. Like most of the Slytherins, Draco Malfoy wore full robes, quite unlike the other students who were dressed more casually.

Harry let his friends take the lead and followed them as he watched the cheerful surroundings with a smile. Now that Voldemort was gone, students could enjoy their Hogsmeade trip fully, without fearing that they might be killed with a Killing Curse all at once. Of course, there were still some who looked at things very carefully. After all, there were still bad wizards and witches, and the Dark Creatures weren’t by any means depopulated by the end of the Second War.

In Zonko’s, the Gryffindor boys quickly purchased their stuff and Ginny bought some odd-looking matchboxes. Harry looked at them askance; she shrugged and told him that they would know what they were when she finally got the idea of how to use them. She didn’t say that she’d be trying it on someone else, but Harry knew her well enough to know that she meant to use it on Pansy Parkinson.

They were about to exit the shop when a dark shape loomed over Harry. He stepped back a pace and saw to his disbelief that it was the Potions Master. Snape, however, was not interested in him or any of the students in the shop.

“Professor Lupin,” he heard Ginny whisper urgently, “why is he here?”

Harry turned and looked at the werewolf. Remus looked tired, but his golden eyes looked quite content to the raven-haired Gryffindor. “Oh, I think he wants to be updated on the latest pranks in town,” Remus replied in that mild tone of his. He winked at them before joining Snape, inspecting several bowls of harmless-looking sweets with unfeigned interest.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Ron said quickly and the lot zoomed off, like spells cast by their wands.

“Do I dare think -?” Ron didn’t finish his sentence.

“Honestly!” Even Ginny looked surprised. Not that she was surprised that Remus liked men; she knew that Remus and Sirius had been lovers.

“Let’s not jump into conclusions,” Harry cautioned. “Snape and Remus are of the same generation - maybe he is trying to be friends with someone.”

“Oh, let’s not worry ourselves with the adults,” Hermione said impatiently and pulled Ron into another shop.

The day passed rather quickly and carrying huge bags - some were his, some he carried for his friends - Harry and his company waited to be admitted into the Three Broomsticks. The inn was full; Harry felt a little disappointed if they were asked to go somewhere else, but fortunately a group of Hufflepuffs cleared off, and Ginny, seeing the opportunity, quickly dashed for the just-emptied area.

Groans of disappointment reached his ears and Harry saw that some of the younger Ravenclaws were looking at them in disgruntlement. He smiled apologetically at them and took a seat beside Ginny. Madam Rosmerta came and helped clear the used tankards and plates away.

“So, Butterbeers everyone?” she asked cheerfully. Nods of agreement. Then….

“I was wondering, can we try Firewhiskey?”

Mouths dropped, including Harry’s.

“Are you sure, Hermione-lass? That’s pretty strong stuff and even some adults, like your Defense professor for one, can’t stomach it,” Madam Rosmerta said, smiling slyly.

“I think you’re going to get me into trouble,” Ron said, sounding a little awed. His girlfriend just gave him an impudent smirk.

“Everyone game?” the witch asked.

“I’m in!” Ginny said excitedly and earned a sour look from her brother.

“All right!” Dean and Seamus chorused.

“Uh … I’m not sure if I want to find out my alcohol tolerance level,” Harry said uncertainly and Neville nodded his agreement.

“Oh … come on!”

“Okay, okay, but if I get drunk….”

Their table erupted into raucous laughter. It died down and they engaged into a calmer topic and Harry found himself thinking that, maybe, he ought to have scheduled his lesson with Draco some other time. Madam Rosmerta returned with a tray full of foaming Butterbeers while one of her helpers carried a whole roasted chicken and other dishes.

Harry entertained his thoughts while eating his lunch. I really hope I won’t get drunk….

“Bloody hell!” Harry wheezed when he finally downed the small cup of Firewhiskey.

“Good, isn’t it?” Ron smirked.

Harry blinked his eyes clear of tears. Bloody hell. The curse echoed in his mind. He certainly felt as though his throat was on fire, and that great puffs of smoke billowed out of his ears, nostrils and mouth.

“Care to have another one?” Hermione inquired, her eyes glowing with mischief.

“Hermione,” Harry croaked out, “I still have a lesson with Malfoy later, if you had forgotten. You don’t want me to be with him bereft of my good sense, right?” His friend laughed.

“Then you have to be careful when you’re closeted with him, mate,” Dean said suddenly. “Look at that!” The dark-skinned boy pointed his chin at a gaggle of Slytherins.

Harry looked at the group with curiosity. Now it became clear to him why there was a gathering. It appeared that his part-time mentor was engaged in some sort of drinking competition with Goyle. Some distance away from them, there was another group where two boys hovered over their housemate, Crabbe, who looked very sick.

Seamus waved over one Hufflepuff boy who was watching the Slytherins with avid interest. Without any prompting from the Gryffindors, he replied. “Well, they’re drinking Firewhiskey, and so far Malfoy’s in the lead with five cups. He has drunk about eleven so far.”

Harry looked again at his tutor. The boy sneered at his housemate and showed no signs of being intoxicated. In fact, his silver eyes gleamed with glee when Goyle started to sweat.

“Anyone wishes to bet?” the Hufflepuff asked, looking at the boys conspiratorially. “Zabini’s organizing it.”

“It wouldn’t be fun,” Ginny said with some dissatisfaction. “We all know that Draco is going to win.”

“Well, well, well.”

All of them froze upon hearing that velvety voice. Snape strode forward and casually hooked up Goyle’s collar and pulled him up entirely out of the chair. Then he himself sat on the vacated chair, facing his student with a wicked smile.

“Oh dear,” Remus sighed. He dragged an empty chair and planted it in between Harry and Neville.

Harry leaned sideways and whispered to the werewolf. “What’s going on?”

The others turned to listen carefully to what their Defense teacher had to say.

“Severus is doing a dare,” Remus replied. “I didn’t expect him to be gracious enough to play ‘Truth or Dare’ with me, Hooch and Professor McGonagall.”

“You mean Professor McGonagall is watching us?” Hermione yelped with a stricken look on her face.

“Well … yes,” Remus replied with a weak smile. “Don’t worry; you’re not going to get into trouble by drinking just one glass of strong drink.”

“Oh, does that mean Malfoy’s going to get into trouble?” Ron asked fiercely.

“I doubt it,” the werewolf said wryly.

“What is he doing?” Ginny asked them suddenly. She had ceased paying attention to what they were saying and had instead focused on the two Slytherins.

“To keep things even, I believe Severus has used a spell that rids Draco’s previous consumption of alcohol,” Remus said confidently. Between all this, Zabini had waved the Hufflepuff over, probably to inform him of the rates. “I must say I’m quite in a fix. I don’t know who to bet on now,” he said rather mournfully. “From my observations of both Slytherins, they’re rather evenly matched. Unless,” he smirked, “both of them are cheating.”

Harry found that extremely amusing and he laughed, surprising his friends. Evidently, his laughter must have been quite loud since Draco and Snape turned to look at him with decisively un-amused expressions. The two seemed to be taking the impromptu contest quite seriously. He swallowed his laughter and looked away. The Hufflepuff boy returned and asked if they wanted to bet.

Remus placed six silver Sickles on the table and his choice of winner was Draco. Ron and Dean started visibly. They and Hermione chose Snape. Neville did not take part. Seamus and Ginny betted on a draw. All of them turned to watch Harry expectantly.

The latter fished out for a Galleon out of his pocket and toyed with it. “I assume that the two are cheating,” Harry said aloud and ignored Draco’s indignant look. “This is also a contest of experience and knowledge. Let’s see who has a lot of dirty tricks up their sleeves. I’m going to bet on the blond devil winning.”

“Why Malfoy?” Hermione asked, biting her lip worriedly.

Harry smiled secretively and looked at Remus.

“That’s because, ladies and gentlemen,” their Defense professor began and the rest drew closer to listen, “Draco Malfoy may not look it, but given the opportunity, he is as bad and cunning as your twin brothers. Severus lacked that certain kind of deviousness. If he had it,” he glanced at his colleague, “he wouldn’t have had any trouble dealing with Sirius.” Remus had the faraway look that indicated that he was recalling the fond memories he had shared with Harry’s father and godfather. Even Harry smiled.

His death doesn’t hurt me anymore. He had Remus now, and the Weasleys had always treated him like their own.

The red-haired prefect snorted derisively. “Now if that was true, why does he act the way he does, if he’s that intelligent?”

“Wait and see, Ron. Wait and see.”

In the end, Remus’s keen observation paid off, but he had to help put out the fire on his short-tempered colleague.

“Merlin … they really played dirty!” Ginny said with good cheer.

The winnings were quickly distributed, half of which went to the winner.

“Let’s go back to Honeydukes,” Draco Malfoy drawled, and the Slytherins squealed happily at the unspoken treat.

“You’re going to get it on Monday, brat,” Snape hissed, glaring fiercely at his student. Draco just chuckled as he led his followers out of the inn.