The Prisoner of Azkaban (Hermione Granger X Male Reader)

10. The Boggart

Harry's POV

Malfoy didn't reappear in classes until late on Thursday morning, when the Slytherins and Gryffindors were halfway through double Potions. He swaggered into the dungeon, his right arm covered in bandages and bound up in a sling, acting, in Harry's opinion, as though he was the heroic survivor of some dreadful battle.

"How is it, Draco?" simpered Pansy Parkinson. "Does it hurt much?"

"Yeah," said Malfoy, putting on a brave sort of grimace. But Harry saw him wink at Crabbe and Goyle when Pansy had looked away.

"Settle down, settle down," said Professor Snape idly.

Harry and Ron scowled at each other; Snape wouldn't have said "settle down" if they'd walked in late, he'd have given them detention. But Malfoy had always been able to get away with anything in Snape's classes.

They were making a new potion today, a Shrinking Solution. Malfoy had set up his cauldron on the same table  as Harry, (Y/N) and Ron. Harry gave Malfoy a glare, Ron's brow furrowed as Malfoy set up his things; (Y/N) barely glanced away from his cauldron, seemingly uninterested that Malfoy was near him.

"Sir," Malfoy called, "sir, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm --"

"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots up for him," said Snape, without looking up.

Ron went brick red.

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

Malfoy smirked across the table. "Weasley, you heard Professor Snape, cut up these roots."

Ron seized his knife, pulled Malfoy's roots towards him and began to chop them roughly, so that they were all different sizes.

"Professor," drawled Malfoy, "Weasley's mutilating my roots, sir."

After a malicious order from Snape, Ron was forced to give over his carefully chopped up roots and change them with Malfoy's almost destroyed ones.

"And, sir, I'll need this Shrivelfig skinned," siad Malfoy, his voice full of malicious laughter.

After Snape had given Harry the same treatment as Ron, he was forced to skin the Shrivelfig as fast as he could before he tossed it back to Malfoy.

Malfoy smirked more broadly than ever as he spoke his next few words, "Seen your pal Hagrid lately?"

"Shut your mouth, Malfoy," said (Y/N), his words were laced with venom but he didn't even bother to look Malfoy in the eyes and still continued to focus on his own potion.

"I'm afraid he won't be a teacher much longer," said Malfoy, in a tone of mock sorrow. "Father's not very happy about my injury —"

"All three of us couldn't give a toss about your father," said (Y/N), a clear strain in his voice caused by anger.

" — he's complained to the school governors. And to the Ministry of Magic. Father's got a lot of influence, you know. And a lasting injury like this —" he gave a huge, fake sigh, "who knows if my arm'll ever be the same again?"

"So that's why you're putting it on," said Harry, accidently beheading a dead caterpillar because his hand was shaking in anger. "To try and get Hagrid sacked."

"Well," said Malfoy, lowering his voice to a whisper, "partly, Potter. But there are other benefits, too. (L/N) . . . slice up my caterpillars for me."

Harry's fist clenched at the sight of Malfoy's smug face as he smirked at (Y/N), who still wasn't giving him the time of day.

"Come on," Malfoy drawled, "I do believe I gave you an order . . ."