Third person
The storm had blown itself out by the following morning though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy heavy clouds of pewter gray swirled overhead as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and y/n looks at their new course schedules at breakfast. A few seats along, Fred, George, and Lee Jordan are discussing magical methods of aging themselves and bluffing their way into the Triwizard Tournament.
"Today's not bad...outside all morning," says Ron who was running his finger down the Monday column of his schedule. "Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures...damn it, we're still with the Slytherins...."
"Double Divination this afternoon," Harry groans looking down. Divination was his least favorite subject, apart from Potions. Professor Trelawney kept predicting Harry's death, which he found extremely annoying.
"You should have given it up like me and y/n shouldn't you?" says Hermione briskly, buttering herself some toast.
"Then you'd be doing something sensible like Arithmancy." Y/n says
"You're eating again, I notice," says Ron, watching Hermione adding liberal amounts of jam to her toast too.
"I've decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights," says Hermione haughtily.
"Yeah...and you were hungry," says Ron, grinning.
"Oh shut up Ron." Y/n says glaring at the red head.
There was a sudden rustling noise above them, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows carrying the morning mail.
A large tawny owl soared down to Neville and deposited a parcel into his lap. Neville almost always forgot to pack something. On the other side of the Hall Draco Malfoy's eagle owl had landed on his shoulder, carrying what looked like his usual supply of sweets and cakes from home.
The four Gryffindors head to the green house together. Professor Sprout shows the class the ugliest plant. Indeed, they looked less like plants than thick, black, giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid.
"Bubotubers," Professor Sprout tells them briskly. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus -"
"The what?" says Seamus sounding revolted.
"Pus, Finnigan, pus," says Professor Sprout, "and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus."
Squeezing the bubotubers was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick yellowish-green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol. They caught it in the bottles as Professor Sprout had indicated, and by the end of the lesson had collected several pints.
"This'll keep Madam Pomfrey happy," says Professor Sprout, stoppering the last bottle with a cork. "An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, bubotuber pus. Should stop students resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of pimples."
"Like poor Eloise Midgen," says Hannah, A Hufflepuff, in a hushed voice. "She tried to curse hers off."
"Silly girl," says Professor Sprout, shaking her head. "But Madam Pomfrey fixed her nose back on in the end."
A booming bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signaling the end of the lesson, and the class separated the Gryffindors heads down the sloping lawn toward Hagrid's small wooden cabin, which stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
YOU ARE READING
A Proper lady ( Harry Potter X Reader female)
Fanfictiony/n McGonagall is Minnie McGonagall's granddaughter. She is expelled from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic for something. She comes back to Hogwarts and becomes friends with the golden trio. She starts catching feelings for the chosen one. " YOU HAVE TO...
