1Scorgifying his clothes of bathwater while he walked and dressed at the same time was a delicate procedure but he managed to get most of the moisture out of his pants and put his clothing to rights before he made it to the staff tables. Grateful for a friendly face Harry found Neville and sat next to him with a wan smile.
"What happened, your hair is more wild than usual and you look out of breath." Asked Neville, concerned. Harry rushed through the story, leaving out the hurled insults, his face pink enough with embarrassment without the childishness both he and Malfoy had resorted to.
"Malfoy?! McGonagal hired Malfoy?!" Neville looked shocked. "I know the pure blood families have been pushing to have one of their own on the staff after the reforms, but I didn't realize she'd hire Malfoy…maybe a Pierness or even one of the Goyle second cousins…"
"Well Malfoy always did do well in Potions, hadn't he been running his own shop?" Harry pointed out. He was about to say more when, speak of the devil, Malfoy headed up to the staff table. His hair, unlike Harry's, was perfectly groomed. He had grown it out, no longer slicking it back, but letting it grow and tying it back in a loose braid. Harry had to reluctantly admit the less severe look suited him. Malfoy sent a slight sneer in Harry's direction before taking a seat at the other end of the staff table near Hagrid. Harry's eyes moved to the more friendly face, and he returned Hagrid's enthusiastic wave. Now that all the staff were seated and all the students led into the Great Hall. Professor, now Headmistress, McGonagal stood and walked to the podium. Her speech was less…eccentric, than Dumbledore's had usually been. It contained the standard reminders about the Forbidden Forrest, and useful information for first years, dates for Qwidditch try outs and Hogsmeade visits. Harry was used to seeing the sorting hat at the beginning of the year feast but apparently the new third years had been sorted in a separate room and had already joined the tables of their respective houses. They were lucky, they didn't have to get sorted in front of the entire student body like a spectacle. The first and second years, he saw, had their own tables, separated by year rather than house. He had to admit that he applauded the changes. He remembered the stress of being a new first year student, being sorted into a house without really knowing what was going on, in front of the entire school. All he knew as a new first year was that Draco Malfoy acted like a less portly version of Dudley and that Ron had been nice to him. He'd chosen Gryffindor over Slytherin and he couldn't say he regretted the decision, but it had taken him years to admit that he could really have done well in Slytherin if things had been a little different. After all, Dudley had come around eventually after Harry had saved his life. They would never be friends, but he dropped Harry muggle mail sometimes. Letting Harry know how college was going. He was at an American school on a "foot ball" scholarship. Linebacker of coarse.
Harry was glad when McGonagal was done with her announcements and let the feast begin. Harry tucked in, wanting to forget his morning mishap. He chatted with Neville and pointedly ignored Malfoy at the end of the great table.
Draco could feel Potter's eyes on him as he sat down next to Longbottom at the staff table. It was eerily reminiscent of their school days, Draco glaring, Potter and friends sharing suspicions about his motives. All he had wanted to do was survive the school hear. He frowned at Hagrid. Why he had let the giant oaf talk him into teaching…he had only guilt and liquor to blame. If he had known he would be facing The Boy Who Lived he would have put redemption off for another year. He should have expected it though, Potter and his posse of idiots had been his bane since he was eleven so why would the fates be giving him a break at twenty?
After the war Potter got to relax with his red haired girlfriend and the thanks of the wizarding world, himself included though he was loathe to admit it, while Draco had been forced to deal with his fathers suicide and their near poverty after reparations had been paid and a heavy dose of personal shame to ice the cake. Years later here he was back at Hogwarts with Harry Potter.
Despite his guilt, he had a genuine reason to be sending Potter death glares over the delicious feast. It was no imagined slight this time. Potter had broken into his rooms, dumped his tasteless luggage all over the bedroom Draco had spent the last half hour organizing then proceeded to start stripping, see Draco, then fall shirtless into Draco's bath. Onto Draco himself. It was appalling.
Draco had entertained the idea that Potter has done it deliberately, but Potter's shock had been both amusing and genuine. Potter had filled out in the years since school had ended…that last thought made him spit out his pumpkin juice in shock. Potter had filled out? What was that supposed to mean?
"Yeh Alrigh' Malfoy?" Asked Hagrid good naturedly, patting Malfoy on the back and almost knocking him out of his chair.
"You didn't tell me Potter would be teaching here Hagrid." Said Draco, a hint of betrayal in his tone. He and Hagrid had developed something of an odd friendship after the war. Draco, finally free of the Dark Lords clutches had wanted to do what he cold to make amends, but he was hesitant to approach most of the Order members knowing there would be well justified resentment. He'd finally gone to Hagrid to offer his help tracking down those Death Eaters that still survived. Hagrid had listened because of the part Narcissa, his mother, had played in keeping Potter alive. He and Hagrid had tracked down the remainders of the Dark Lord's forces. Draco had never been brave, but he was a Slytherin and Slytherins were survivors. His guilt had been the catalyst and his tactical mind told him he would need the support of an Order member if he ever wanted to do something other than hide. Hagrid had been reluctant to trust him but after the third Death Eater hole they had cleaned out together a mutual respect had formed. After, he and Hagrid met regularly at the Hogs Head to play cards and drink. He had come to see why Harry had visited Hagrid often in their school days, he was loyal and an excellent listener, something his fellow Slytherins had not been. He hadn't had friends he had henchmen and followers and enemies.
"Ah only jus' found out myself this morning. Yeh heard about Professor Hale's ah bar incident. Well Neville there suggested Harry for the job. Ah mean who better to teach defense than the man that took down Vol..Voldemort."
"I suppose you have a point." Draco responded tersely, Voldemort not being his favorite subject.
"Now don' tell me yeh still hate each other? There's no point to it now."
"I don't hate him, I just find him incredibly annoying." Draco scowled.
"Don' worry Draco, It'll turn out fine. Give Harry a chance he's like some of my creatures, yeh jus' 'ave to know how to talk to him." Draco eyed him and scoffed but there was no malice in it.
It had been Hagrid that had suggested he take the job in the first place, when after much Firewhiskey, Draco had spoken of his guilt toward Hagrid about the Hippogriph, and the baby dragon fiasco, to Hogwarts, to the dead and the living, and to Harry. Drunkenly he'd thought teaching at Hogwarts, helping students not to make his mistakes, could be his penance, he'd try it for a year and see what happened. He'd sent his owl off with his resume and Hagrid's recommendation letter that night and when he'd woken up it was to the worst hangover he'd had in years and his owl dropping his acceptance letter on to his head. Well he was already here, Potter or not, he was here for a reason and he'd see it out.