INCEPTION.

Chapter Seven - Cedric Diggory.

September 9th, 1993

I grew comfortable with my day to day routine at Hogwarts.

The classes were relatively simple and I enjoyed sharing them with my friends.

They made the long hours I spent doing homework go by so much quicker— I don't know if I could've been able to have done it without them.

Draco had been missing from every class that we shared with the Slytherins for the past week.

We were halfway through Double Potions when he strutted in the classroom, his arm covered in several bandages and bound to a sling. He carried himself as if he was a heroic survivor of some dreadful battle.

"Does it hurt terribly, Draco?" Pansy Parkinson cooed as he approached— reaching out to caress his 'injured' arm.

"It comes and it goes. Still... I consider myself lucky. According to Madame Pomfrey, a minute or two later, I could've lost my arm."

My mouth dropped at the bullshit he was spewing, and I instinctively turned to look at Ron and Harry who were both scowling at him.

"Settle down, Malfoy." Professor Snape drawled idly.

Snape's patience for anyone from Gryffindor always ran thin, especially Harry— but I've noticed he was usually lenient towards Draco.

Probably because Smape was head of Slytherin House, but the preference was unmistakable.

We were working on the Shrinking Solution potion. I had already finished my batch, since I've made it before for the task that Snape gave me during my testing, so I was just writing some notes down from the textbook.

I eyed Draco suspiciously as he gathered his materials with his free hand and headed straight towards the table where I was sitting with Ron and Harry.

He placed his cauldron next to my freshly prepared one and raised his hand smugly.

"Sir, I'll need help cutting the daisy root, because of my arm—"

"(Y/L/N), since you clearly believe that you've finished your potion, cut Malfoy's roots for him." Snape instructed without looking up from his desk.

I sighed in defeat and stared at Draco blankly.

"There's nothing wrong with your arm, Malfoy."

He smirked and leaned down towards me, resting his 'injured' arm on the table subconsciously, making me scoff at his lack of awareness.

"You heard Professor Snape, (Y/N), cut up these roots." He mumbled so it was just audible to me.

I glowered, squinting my eyes at him, and grabbed the knife swiftly. I took Draco's roots and began to chop them sloppily, trying to get the embarrassment over with.

"Professor..." Draco called out slowly, his voice almost sing-songy. He was enjoying this. "(Y/N)'s mutilating my roots."

Snape approached the table and I set the knife down, shamelessly sliding the cut-up daisy root under Snape's hooked nose for him to inspect.

"My, my. This is poor work from someone who finished their potion early. I'm sure you can do better than that, (Y/L/N). Get another root, and start again."

"But, sir—"

"I hope you don't expect special treatment solely because you're an American, or because you got lucky with your potions during your testing. I see that hanging around Potter has given you the notion that you hold some superiori—"

"Excuse me, Professor, but I do not expect special treatment at all. Thank you." My interruption caused many of the other students to gasp quietly. Ron was so petrified, his eyes were as big as plates. Snape, in turn, was flaring his nostrils at me in anger.