Nobody ever asked my birthday

Potions, by Draco Malfoy

Harry wasn't nearly as excited for Draco's DA lesson as he could have been. He hated Potions.

It was exacting, it didn't lend itself to his brand of creativity, and he loathed them!

So when Malfoy conjured Potions Desks, and silver knives, Harry wished they were sparring with the knives. That, at least, would be something he'd get some use out of.

Slowly, people filed in, students taking their places at the desks. In its way, it was brilliant. It might even, if Draco was especially lucky, manage to kill Smith's whinging. We should be so lucky.

"I'm sure you're all wondering," Draco Malfoy began, with that infuriating smirk - that Harry, in a sudden flash of insight, realized concealed a well of nervousness. "Why you should be studying potions, when we're preparing for war."

There were mutterings all around, and a general sense of agreement, along with a sense of attentiveness.

"In this war, most of you will not be fighting Gryffindors. True?" Draco's eyebrow rose, as his eyes flicked over the class, making eye contact with those who looked the most truculent. Staring them down, where necessary. Harry wanted to take some notes, just on how Malfoy was teaching.

"A proper form of Slytherin treachery is poison." Draco Malfoy stated, baldly. Ron's jaw fell open at that. Hermione's too. Harry wasn't nearly as surprised, if only because he had actually considered rat poison at the Dursleys. "You need to know the symptoms. Recognize it before it happens, where you can. Do you really want to miss a battle because you're stuck vomiting until the last dregs of your meal are out of your system?"

"Sure, potions will heal you, and that's a valuable skill to know." Draco Malfoy said, "But that's something I could teach a quarter of this class. You all need to know poisons and antidotes." Draco Malfoy's grey eyes flashed, "Or did you think Hogwarts was safe?"

Harry caught the moment when the Gryffindors, as a collective whole, realized exactly what security holes the Weasley twins had exposed. That they'd exposed them in front of all and sundry. And that it was quite likely that some enterprising Slytherin had taken notes.

"Today, we will start in preschool." Draco Malfoy snapped, "I doubt most of you have been taught this." His grey eyes found Longbottom, "You especially, Longbottom. I've seen your knifework."

Draco Malfoy was exacting, Harry was soon to learn, as he learned how to find the right angles of the knives - and more importantly, how to strop and sharpen the knives themselves.

The damnedable thing of it was? Malfoy was right. He hadn't learned it - he even thought Hermione was picking up tricks.

There was a reason Malfoy was the best at Potions, apparently.

[a/n: Harry'd supposed it was favoritism. Leave a review?]