Chapter 1

The mumbling of the students grew louder and angrier as Headmistress McGonegal's announcement sunk in: Because some wings of the castle were being rebuilt, the staff was having to improvise as far as classrooms and dormitories. This meant that Defence Against the Dark

Arts was held in the Divination Tower, Arithmancy was moved to the Dungeons, and, perhaps worst of all, the Slytherins were forced to live on the seventh floor with the Gryffindors.

The Slytherins' initial reaction was one of disbelief and shock; this had to be a joke. McGonegal had finally gone mad if she believed that the two rival houses could successfully carry a conversation, let alone live together.

The Gryffindors' reaction was no different. How could they be expected to share their personal sanctuary with the enemy? The mere thought was ludicrous.

McGonegal quieted the students, all gathered in the Great Hall for the Opening Feast, and continued. "While I understand your... discomfort with the situation, we must work with what we have for the time being. Next, I would like to announce that the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor shall be reassumed by Professor Snape."

This uproar was greater than the last. The no-longer-potions-master stood up, despite the angry accusations flying at him from the congregation. The look of disdain on his face slowly grew more sour as he sat back down, and McGonegal hushed the crowd once more.

"Finally, it is my pleasure to welcome a group of seventh year students who fought valiantly to protect our school in the Battle of Hogwarts, who have returned to complete their education so that they may go on to do great things, as I know that they will. Now, if the Head Students will lead back to their respective houses, all students should get some rest before their first day of classes tomorrow. Good night.""

The students all stood up, and were about to exit when a realization struck Slytherin house: they had no idea to where they were going. They just stood for a moment, exchanging weary glances, watching their companions exit to their own quarters. Finally, one brave first-year girl stepped forward and tugged at the robe of a passing Gryffindor.

"Excuse me," she said, "Could you please show- hang on, you're Harry Potter!"

This loud exclamation drew the attention of the rest of the Slytherins to that spot, one student in particular-Draco Malfoy.

He had been forced to return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to complete his seventh year, but not by his parents- by the Ministry of Magic. Once he completed the year, he would be sent off to St. Mungo's to complete the community service he'd been assigned because of his Death Eater status. And now, as if matters couldn't worsen, he was being forced to share a home for a year with those he hated most. He was glad, however, for the fact that he was a minor- had the war ended only about a month later, after Draco had turned 18, his punishment would have been much worse. He would have suffered the same as so many others, his parents included...

He shuddered at the thought and returned to reality, which was that Harry Potter was standing not ten feet from him, dressed in his school robes, leading that bold first-year to the Gryffindor house. He supposed he had no other choice but to follow with his peers, and so he went onward, up the Grand Staircase, to what he expected to be the most pain-staking year of his life.

As he led the group into his home, Harry couldn't help but wonder- Why me? Why now? Why HIM? This was Harry's last year at Hogwarts. He, along with Ron, Hermione, and many others from his year, had asked McGonegall immediately after the war ended if they would be able to return, and she, of course, happily allowed it. He wanted to finish his education so that he could go on to become an Auror, which was his dream.

What wasn't part of his dream was spending the year with the Slytherins, especially Malfoy.

As he walked up the Grand Staircase, he thought back to when he and his enemy first met, in Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occassions, before his first year had even started.

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes.

"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking for wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Harry was strongly reminded of Dudley.

Little had he known that that pale boy would be his enemy in school, that he would eventually save his life, and later Harry would return the favor. Funny how things turn out, he thought.

By that point, they had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"This portrait is the entrance to Gryffindor house. The password changes every week, so make sure you're up to date," he explained.

"Oh, Harry, my boy! Delightful to see you again!" The Fat Lady was as plump and jolly as ever. "But, alas, you know that I cannot let you in without the password."

"Troll bogies," he replied.

"Ah, brings back memories, doesn't it?" she said, smiling. She winked at him knowingly and opened up, and Harry escorted in his new roommates.