The next morning dawned with an air of tension in the Slytherin Dorms. The events of the previous night had left a lingering bitterness in the air, and it was clear that Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, were not ready to let go of their animosity towards Johnny, Blaise, and Theo.

As the boys prepared for the day ahead, a sense of anticipation hung heavy in the air. Johnny, Blaise, and Theo exchanged meaningful glances, silently acknowledging the challenges they were about to face.

As they made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast, Johnny couldn't shake off the feeling that something was about to happen. Sure enough, as they rounded a corner, they found themselves face to face with Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle, blocking their path with smirks on their faces.

Draco's eyes gleamed with malicious intent as he sneered, "Well, well, if it isn't our favorite Mudblood and his little lackeys. Ready for another dose of reality, Scaletta?"

Blaise stepped forward, his voice steady with determination. "We're not afraid of you, Malfoy."

The tension in the corridor mounted, and in moments, a scuffle broke out. Fists flew and insults were hurled, each side fighting to defend their own honor. The sounds of grunts and thuds echoed through the stone walls as the clash intensified.

LJohnny sported a black eye, his vision slightly impaired but his resolve unshaken. Blaise had a busted lip, blood trickling down the corner of his mouth, yet his defiant gaze remained unwavering. Theo's cheek was swollen, a testament to the blows he had endured, but his determination burned brightly in his eyes.

Though battered and bruised, they stood tall, refusing to let the aggression of their adversaries define them.

As they made their way to the Great Hall, whispers and sidelong glances followed them. The news of the scuffle had spread, and while some watched with judgment, others observed with newfound respect. The boys had shown that they would not back down.

As they took their seats at the Slytherin table, the other students regarded them with a mixture of awe and curiosity. Blaise, Johnny, and Theo exchanged a silent understanding.

"Who did this?" Pansy demanded when she and Daphne entered the Great Hall for breakfast. The two girls gaped at the boys wounds.

"It's fine, really," Johnny tried to reassure her, smiling weakly at the girl. She looked at Blaise and Theo expectantly.

"Malfoy," Theo answered for them, and Johnny and Blaise sighed defeatedly as Pansy let out an angry sort of squeak before stalking out of the Great Hall.

"Should we follow her?" Johnny asked expectantly, glancing from Daphne to Theo to Blaise who all shook their heads in unison.

"With Pansy, it's best you let her calm down," Daphne patted his shoulder. "Come on, let's get some breakfast and I'll fix you up, my mother taught me some stuff."

Johnny took a quick glance towards the Gryffindor table in hopes of finding Hermione, but she was already in deep conversation about her lessons with her dorm mates.

"Everything okay?" Johnny asked Pansy when she sat at the Slytherin table next to him, throwing her bag under the bench.

"Giving our mutual friend some friendly advice," Pansy grinned, nodding towards Draco down the far end of the table, who'd gone paler than humanly possible. "Let's just say you won't be getting too much attention from that git anymore."

Johnny was in awe of the girl in front of him. He was in awe at the four Slytherin Pureblood's in general to be honest. Never in his life did he think he'd have friends, never mind friends that would stick up for him.

"You'll catch flies, honey," said Pansy, closing Johnny's mouth for him and patting his cheek. After Johnny got over his initial shock, the five ate breakfast with Theo cracking jokes which made them hold their stomachs with laughter.

The morning flew by quickly, and soon it was time for the first lesson of the day - Transfiguration. The group of friends gathered their books and made their way to the classroom, anticipation coursing through their veins.

As they entered the classroom, Johnny's eyes immediately searched for Hermione. He spotted her sitting in the front of the class, engrossed in a book. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he started walking towards her.

However, just as Johnny was about to take the seat next to Hermione, a boy named Montgomery swiftly slid into the seat, beating him to it. Johnny's frown deepened, disappointment washing over him. He hadn't been able to talk to Hermione since they arrived at Hogwarts, and now he was being thwarted by Montgomery.

Suppressing his frustration, Johnny glanced around the classroom, searching for an available seat. He spotted an empty chair near the back and reluctantly made his way towards it. As he settled into his seat, he couldn't help but feel a pang of longing for the company of Hermione.

Daphne had sat next to another Slytherin girl, while Blaise and Theo sat next to each other, so Pansy took the available seat next to Johnny.

"So," Pansy smirked at him. "That went well," she snickered, leaning her head on her closed fist.

"Shut up," Johnny grumbled, which only caused Pansy to laugh harder.

"I told you Montgomery was a cocky prick."

"His name is Montgomery, anyone with that name is a prick," Johnny rolled his eyes.

Pansy let out a burst of laughter, her shoulders shaking with amusement. "I couldn't agree more," she replied, her tone filled with mirth. "Montgomery just thinks he's the king of the world."

Johnny couldn't help but chuckle at Pansy's response, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating. Despite the disappointment of not being able to sit next to Hermione, he found solace in Pansy's company.

"I do wonder where McGonagall is?" Pansy said after a moments silence. Johnny glanced at the tabby cat who sat as still as a board on the table. "What? The cat? Didn't take you for a comedian, Johnny."

When the bell rung, and the First Year Slytherin and Gryffindor students bustled into the classroom, everyone seemed to notice that Professor McGonagall wasn't here yet, and a tabby cat that was sat watching them from atop of the desk.

"Creepy," Johnny mumbled. taking notice that Harry and Ron were nowhere to be seen. Ten minutes into the lesson, and the class was jotting down notes from the board, neither McGonagall, Harry or Ron had turned up yet and the tabby cat still sat still, that was until the two boys came rushing in and that tabby cat turned into Professor McGonagall, making Pansy's mouth open wide as Johnny laughed at her face.

"You owe me five galleons," Johnny whispered to her.

"We didn't bet on anything!" Pansy hissed back, hitting his shoulder playfully.

"That was bloody brilliant!" Said Ron, with the same amount of aw as the rest of the class.

"Well, thank you for that assessment, Mr. Weasley," said Professor McGonagall, glaring slightly at the two late boys. "Perhaps it would be more useful if I were to transfigure Mr. Potter and yourself into a pocket watch. That way, one of you might be on time."

"We got lost," Harry tried to defend them, but McGonagall really wasn't having it today.

"Then perhaps a map? I trust you don't need one to find your seats."

The two took their seats right behind Hermione and Montgomery and the lesson properly began.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. The class were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realised they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione and Johnny had made any difference to their matches; Professor McGonagall showed the class how they had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione and Johnny a rare smile, even awarding ten points to both Slytherin and Gryffindor.

"How in Merlin's beard did you manage that?" Blaise asked when the five Slytherin's left the classroom.

"I just paid attention to what McGonagall said," Johnny shrugged, and Daphne laughed at the bemused faces of the others. Hers had started to go silver and pointy too, but not the level of Johnny's.

"Well at least we know we can cheat off Daphne and Johnny," Pansy grinned mischievously.

"And what if Daphne and I decide not to give you our notes?" Johnny asked as they walked along the corridor.

"Then we'd fail!" Pansy gasped. "Oh, you wouldn't want that on your innocent consciences would you?" The group burst into laughter as they made it to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; and they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

"What have we got today?" Johnny asked Daphne as he sat down at the Slytherin table.

"Double Potions with the Gryffindor's," Blaise answered for her, causing Pansy, Daphne, Theo and Johnny to groan.

Johnny slumped in his seat, his enthusiasm draining away. Double Potions with the Gryffindors was going to be a challenge. The rivalry between the two houses was well-known, and the Potions class was no exception. Professor Snape seemed to relish in pitting the Slytherins against the Gryffindors, making the atmosphere tense and competitive.

Daphne sighed, her shoulders drooping. "I don't understand why we have to share a class with them. It's bad enough dealing with them in the halls."

Pansy nodded in agreement, her expression mirroring Daphne's frustration. "And their constant need to show off and prove themselves... It's exhausting."

"At least Snape's Head of our House. They say he always favors us," said Theo, shrugging his shoulders.

Just then, the mail arrived. Johnny had gotten used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Hermione sat down next to Johnny, which came as a surprise to him and caused Pansy to choke on her gum. They hadn't exchanged more than a few words since they arrived at Hogwarts, and their paths rarely crossed. Johnny glanced at Hermione, unsure of what to say.

"Hey," Hermione said, her voice soft but friendly.

"Hey," Johnny replied, a bit taken aback by her sudden presence. "What brings you here?"

Hermione smiled, her eyes scanning the room before settling on Montgomery, who was glaring in their direction. "We haven't gotten to speak much since we got here, so I thought I'd try sitting with someone outside of my usual circle. Plus, it seems like Monty has taken an interest in you."

Johnny followed Hermione's gaze, his heart sinking as he realised Montgomery was in fact glaring at him.

"Yeah, he's been giving me the stink eye," Johnny muttered, trying to keep his voice low. "What's his problem with me? I never spoke to him before."

"You're a Slytherin," Hermione shrugged as if it was obvious. Hermione leaned closer, her expression serious. "Don't let him get to you, Johnny. You're better than that."

Johnny felt a surge of gratitude towards Hermione. Snape started the class by taking the roll call and he paused at Harry's name.

"Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new -- celebrity."

Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word -- like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death -- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Pansy and Johnny, who were sat next to each other, exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione and Johnny's hands had shot into the air.

"I don't know, sir," said Harry.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut -- fame clearly isn't everything."

He ignored Hermione's hand, but nodded at Johnny to answer.

"A sleeping potion so powerful it's known as Draught of Living Death," Johnny answered confidently.

"Very good, Mr. Scaletta," Snape almost smiled. "Five points to Slytherin. Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry clearly didn't have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Harry forced himself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand. He then turned to Johnny again.

"In the belly of a goat, Sir," Johnny answered, feeling sorry for Hermione and Harry.

"Excellent," Snape drawled out. "Another Five points to Slytherin. What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "Scaletta probably does and I think Hermione does too, why don't you try them?"

A few people laughed; Snape, however, was not pleased.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "Mr. Scaletta, answer it for him."

"They're the same plant, Sir."

"Another Five points!" Snape said. "For your information, Potter, everything Scaletta said was correct. Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticising almost everyone except Malfoy and Johnny, who he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Johnny had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You -- Potter -- why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Johnny kicked him behind the table.

"Don't push it," Johnny muttered, "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."

"Shove off, Scaletta," Ron answered for Harry.