FicWad

A Different Sort of Bond
by Balder

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. This is fanfiction.
Author’s Note: Many thanks to my Beta reader, Oxnate.

On the way to their first potions class of their sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; Harry Potter noticed his friend, Neville Longbottom, looking worried and a bit green, “Are you okay, Nev? I’d expect you to be looking a lot happier about potions now that Snape isn’t teaching it.”

“I have the wizard flu, Harry,” Neville replied. “I’m worried I’ll sneeze in my cauldron and ruin a potion.”

“It’ll be fine, Neville,” Harry said although he was wincing internally at the thought of it. He didn’t say anything about his worries because Neville needed all the confidence he could get. Professor Snape’s harassment of Neville was only a little less than how much he harassed Harry and had affected the other boy more.

Hermione asked, "Isn't one of the symptoms of wizard flu that hexes and jinxes cast on you last longer?"

Neville nodded and sneezed, "Yeah, and you're not allowed to apparate with it. Too much chance of splinching."

As they entered the classroom Harry rather guiltily moved away from Neville so that all the other Gryffindors stood between them and he was by the opposite wall. They had heard from the other years that Professor Slughorn liked to assign seats rather than let everyone pick for themselves and, as much as he liked Neville, he didn’t want to catch his flu.

At the front of the class were four cauldrons. Three large ones in front of the desk and one small one on top of it. The short and rotund professor was smiling and waving them in, “Welcome to NEWT level potions! Come right up front here and make a single line so everyone can see.”

Once they were all lined up he smiled again, “Very good! Now I’m sure Mr. Potter can tell us what this first potion is. His mother was such a credit to the art, surely some of it has been passed on. How about it, Mr. Potter?”

Harry said, “Polyjuice potion. The smell is quite distinctive.”

The professor’s egg-shaped head nodded, “Excellent! Five points to Gryffindor. Now let’s give Slytherin a chance. Miss Greengrass, do you know what this second potion is?”

Harry looked over at the tall, blonde Slytherin, Daphne Greengrass. She had no trouble identifying the potion, “Amortentia, the strongest love potion in the world. It is permanent.”

Slughorn beamed at her, “Excellent! Five points to Slytherin.” His eyes suddenly gleamed with mischief, “I wonder, Miss Greengrass, if you’ll tell us what it smells like to you?”

She glared down at him from her six feet and two inches of height, “Professor you know that Amortentia smells like whoever a person is most in love with at the time, so I do not think that a proper question to ask a female student.”

Harry agreed with her but he overheard Pansy mutter, “Prissy bitch,” and saw Draco roll his eyes. Tracy Davis looked like she agreed with Daphne as well though.

Professor Slughorn just chuckled, “Two more points to Slytherin my dear. You are quite correct, if you are in love then the smell of Amortentia reminds you of that person.”

Harry saw both Ron and Hermione blushing and assumed that it was each other they smelled. He wondered if they would get together this year.

The professor indicated the third large cauldron, “Miss Granger, can you identify this?”

“It is the Draught of Courage, Professor,” Hermione replied.

Slughorn beamed at her, “Excellent! We are three for three so far. Five points to Gryffindor.” He returned to behind his desk and indicated the golden potion therein, "Lastly, Miss Davis, do you know the name of this potion?"

"That's Felix Felicis, Professor. Also known as ‘Liquid Luck’," the redhead replied.

"Excellent! Five points to Slytherin,” He smiled genially, "See how well things go when we all work together? Let us extend that to the whole class period by having Slytherins and Gryffindors work together."

Draco and Pansy both protested. Slughorn didn’t acknowledge Draco but smiled at Pansy, "Your father helped me with a bit of trouble once when I was a sixth year my dear Miss Parkinson so if you are calling in that favor, I will be happy to seat Draco at your table even though you are both Slytherins."

She smiled back, "Oh thank you Professor! I'll be sure to tell my father of your kindness."

"Think nothing of it my dear," he replied. "Now then for the rest of you let's go boy, girl, boy and Slytherin, Gryffindor, Slytherin." He made a gesture towards Daphne, "You first, Miss Greengrass, did you know I was your father's second in a duel once?"

"Really Professor?" she asked.

He nodded his bald head, "Oh yes, but I'll have to tell you the story some other time. Now Mr. Potter let's have you sit next to your lovely classmate here." Slughorn grinned at Harry as he sat down, "She's quite an accomplished student Mr. Potter so you'll have to stretch to keep up with her. I figure you are used to being challenged by Miss Granger so I thought I'd provide you with a suitable replacement."

Another gesture and he said, "Next let us have Miss Davis behind Miss Greengrass and Mr. Longbottom next to her."

Harry muttered to himself, "I wonder if Protego protects from wizard flu?" and was surprised to hear musical laughter from his lab partner.

"You'd have to ask Tracy," she replied as if he'd asked out loud. "She plans to be a medical researcher when she graduates."

Harry flushed as Slughorn assigned Draco and Pansy to the third row behind Neville and Tracy. Slughorn then continued around the room assigning pairs to each table.

With a final gesture Slughorn turned to Hermione, "You and this young man seemed to be the only two people left, Ms. Granger. Would you both please sit at the other front table?"

"We'd be happy to do so, Professor," Hermione said and led Ron to the table.

The professor assigned the class a draught of Living Death to create and offered a vial of luck potion as the prize for best potion. Harry raised his hand, "Ron and I don't have our books yet, Professor. They’re on order but not here yet."

"Easily solved, my boy!" the Professor said. "I'm sure Miss Greengrass will share with you. Won't you my dear?"

"Yes, Professor," she replied.

Slughorn turned to the other front table, "Will you share your book with, er, Ralph was it?"

Ron looked upset at the teacher getting his name wrong but Hermione answered before he could, "Yes professor and he's Ron Weasley. His father is a department head at the Ministry."

Slughorn beamed at him, "Ron, yes. Sorry about that, my boy." He thought briefly and added, "I think I remember your father. He married Molly Prewett didn't he? She was quite good at potions if I remember right."

Ron smiled, "Yes sir."

The lab was going well and Harry was surprised to find he had no trouble working with Daphne. She was focused on her task and determined to win but did nothing to sabotage any other student and answered his few questions promptly and politely.

Halfway through the class Neville raised his hand and said worriedly, "Sir this potion is looking very odd. Should I just vanish it and start over?"

"Have a little faith in your brewing, lad!" Slughorn said. "If it looks odd then make sure you've got your dragonhide gloves on and carefully bring it up here and I'll have a look. If it's really that bad, I'll vanish it but I bet I can show you how to fix it. Sometimes learning how to fix a mistake teaches you more than making a perfect potion."

Neville stood and, with his dragonhide gloves protecting his hands, lifted the cauldron off the fire and stepped into the aisle.

Draco cast a silent tripping jinx and laughed as Daphne and Harry were covered with the foul smelling and viscous potion. Most of it landed on their arms and hands as he was passing her an ingredient but both of their heads got some too.

"Draco, you did that on purpose!" Tracy accused.

"So?" he replied in his usual insolent drawl. "You've never complained before when I do things."

She scowled, not liking how that sounded, then finally replied, "This time you got my best friend covered in goop."

"Twenty points from Slytherin Mr. Malfoy," Slughorn said. “I will not tolerate childish pranks in my classroom. If you do something like that again, I will see you repeat your first five years of Potions before you set foot in this classroom again. Do I make myself clear? Come with me, we’re going to have a talk with the Headmaster.” With that, he led a very surprised Draco out of the room. Draco was surprised as he was used to very preferential treatment from his old Potions teacher, Snape.

Hermione watched as Neville tried to stand back up and tripped again, "Oh no! His wizard flu!"

Harry had pulled his wand to vanish Neville’s unfinished potion from his skin when he saw a falling Neville knock over the cauldron of Amortentia. He vanished the great majority of the love potion out of the air but some was left in the cauldron and some had gotten on to Neville's robe unnoticed.

Neville jumped away from the overturned cauldron and somehow set the hem of his robe on fire. Harry pointed his wand at Neville's robe to cast Aquamenti, the water charm, to put out the fire on the other boy’s robe; but Neville's uncontrolled movements meant the jet of water missed. Neville, falling again, reached out a hand toward the Professor’s desk. Unfortunately his hand hit the edge of the cauldron containing luck potion and it flew straight at Harry and Daphne. This time, Harry was already occupied casting Aquamenti and couldn’t stop and change his spell in time to block the potion. The cauldron itself missed them but the potion coated both of them liberally over the top of Neville’s original potion gone wrong. The cauldron itself bounced off Tracy’s desk, who had ducked just in time.

Harry dropped his wand to try and clear his face of the potion. It was in his eyes and nose, even in his mouth as it was open to cast a Finite Incantatem spell to cancel the jinx on Neville. He tried to bring his left hand to his face as well but it wouldn't come free of Daphne's. He and an equally blind Daphne each pulled on their hands causing them to bump shoulders with each other and they slipped and fell. They both instinctively reached out to break that fall but managed only to pull the cauldron full of Draught of Courage on top of their already bepotioned heads.

Tracy winced as the two in front of her fell. Standing up, she canceled the jinx on Neville and went to help him up. He was heavier than she expected though and the floor was slippery with spilled potion, so no sooner had she got him more or less vertical than they both fell. They landed in the one remaining untouched cauldron, the one containing polyjuice.

Slughorn arrived back with a visibly contrite Draco at that moment. He blinked for a second at the mess that had been created in his absence. With a bellow of “Scourgify!” he vanished all the potions in the room, then he levitated Neville and Tracy out of the cauldron they had fallen into head first. Meanwhile Hermione levitated the other cauldron off Harry and Daphne. Slughorn put the four students into full-body binds and then cast Levicorpus on them. He then turned to Hermione and said, "My dear, perhaps you would be so kind as to levitate these students to the infirmary? Madame Pomfrey will want to save samples of the potion mixture on each of their uniforms, just in case. Mr. Weasley will help you. Class dismissed. Mr Malfoy, you will stay behind to discuss the lengthening of what was already one of the longest detentions I have ever given out, young man.”

Hermione sighed and did as he asked. On the way to the infirmary she told Ron, "I guess a perfect first class in potions was too much to ask for."

But Ron smiled. “Malfoy got detention... in Potions! I don’t know how it gets any better than that.”

Hermione waved at the four bodies she was levitating through the halls towards the hospital wing. Ron looked a bit contrite for a moment before brightening a bit. “Yeah, but this is Harry we’re talking about. And Neville. This happens to them every week,” he said. Aside, he muttered, “Twice a week for Neville.”

Hermione didn’t really have a retort for that so she settled for a glare. A soft one. He did have a point, after all.