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chapter five, curses of evil
𝔅onnie felt re-energized, feeling better than she had been feeling in weeks after the fiasco at the World Cup. She could care less about that now. It was on the past after all, and wasn't there a muggle saying her mum used to say? If it's in the past leave it fast? Or was it past? Like she said, it was a muggle saying and while she took muggle studies and had a muggle mother, she wasn't well versed.
A few days had passed since the announcement, and there was one thing that Bonnie was looking forward to within that week.
Defense Against the Dark Arts.
The class was not at all one of her specialties. But she'd managed to get a passing grade on her O.W.Ls for it, so she must be doing something right. Right?
In Hogwarts, news circulated fast. And the story of how Mad Eye Moody transfigured Draco Malfoy ━ an awful boy who had it coming after insulting Ron Weasley's mother and trying to hex Harry Potter with his back turned ━ into a white ferret was the best story she ever heard. A part of her felt guilty for thinking that way, sure, Draco needed to learn a lesson, but she'd also heard Moody had dropped Draco several times and the little snake seemed to be in pain from it. The ferret thing was cool. Pain, less so.
Still, Bonnie found herself excited for DADA. All of the sixth years were. They had class with Gryffindors, which was probably good seeing as Slytherins were a little salty towards other houses for laughing at the humiliation of one of their own.
Bonnie sat forward in her seat, a little excited. This was the year that actually got to learn more interesting stuff. Sure, Professor Lupin's class had been one of her best classes, but this year was the stuff. Silent spells and more hexes and jinxes. And from what she'd read in her textbook, curses.
There was a nervous bubble of excitement in her stomach, sitting next to Cedric. Only a handful of people had dropped Defense Against the Dark Arts, mainly Hufflepuffs, Bonnie noticed, the Gryffindors living up to their stereotype. She tapped her quill against the table rather excitedly. Fred and George were talking behind her, something about an aging potion that they had been talking about all week, in hopes to trick whatever it was keeping them from joining. Lee Jordan was sitting at the table next to them, Angelina Johnson at his side.
The door opened with a loud clang, everyone turning to face the Professor who had just entered, his wooden leg clanking on the ground.
