𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐀𝐦𝐞 | 𝐇.𝐏.

𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝟐 - 𝟐

My first day of second year, I woke up much happier than I did at this time last year. This year, I had friends. But also this year, my brother was barely speaking to me.

After getting dressed and scarfing down a quick breakfast, I followed Hermione and the two boys out to the greenhouses. We entered the third one, and took our usual spots on the left side of the table. The Slytherins were on the right.

"Morning, everyone," the dumpy little woman known as Professor Sprout said, appearing through one of the glass side doors. She came to a stop at the end of the table farthest from us.

She banged a small metal shovel on the side of an empty pot to cease the talking.

"Good morning, Professor Sprout," everyone replied.

"Welcome to greenhouse three, second years," she continued. "Now take a step closer, everyone. Today we're going to re-pot Mandrakes. Who here can tell me the properties of the Mandrake root?" She asked, lifting a heavy plant onto the table.

As always, Hermione's hand raised high in the air.

"Yes, Mrs. Granger?"

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is used to return those who have been Petrified to their original state," she answered. Professor Sprout nodded her head in approval, so she kept going.

"It is also quite dangerous. The Mandrake's cry is fatal to anyone who hears it."

"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor," Professor Sprout praised. 

"Now, as our Mandrakes are still only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet. But they could knock you out for several hours, which is why I've given each of you a pair of earmuffs for auditory protection," she instructed us. "So could you please put them on right away? Quickly. Flaps tight down, and watch me closely."

Everyone made sure the dirty material was covering every part of their ear before looking back up to her.

"You grasp your mandrake firmly..." she said, shaking the leaves of her fully-grown one. "...you pull it sharply up out of the pot," she carried on, ripping the plant out of the original soil. A muffled cry came through my earmuffs, and I placed my hands over them.

"Got it? And now, you dunk it down into the other pot, and pour a little sprinkling of soil to keep him warm," she said, unfazed, as though she did this every day.

We looked on with horrified faces until a loud thunk was made. We all looked around to see Longbottom, on the ground and unconscious.

Professor Sprout only sighed. "Longbottom's been neglecting his earmuffs."

Draco chuckled, along with Blaise, and Theo.

"No, ma'am," Finnigan said. "He's just fainted."

"Yes, well, just leave him there," Professor Sprout replied. 

I raised my eyes at Potter, and we both turned away to control our laughter.

"Right, on we go."

And so for the next hour we were stuck tearing baby Mandrakes out of perfectly fine soil and re-potting them. It was dirty work, as well as extremely difficult and frustrating. 

Although, it was worth it to see Draco teasingly put his finger in front of the Mandrake's mouth, only for it to bite him. I tried to hide my snort with the back of my hand, but of course, Potter had to see that too. Soon we were both laughing quietly, tears streaming down our faces, and Hermione and Weasley couldn't for the life of them figure out what had happened.

It was times like these when I didn't really mind being friends with the Boy Who Lived.

By the end of class I was sweaty, tired, and annoyed. If Herbology went on like this all year, I might just leave.