° His Sunshine °

- eight -

Since the Buckbeak accident, Draco had been seen laughing at meals, rough-housing on the grounds, and even juggling green apples with his mates in the corridors. But lessons? He hadn't been seen in a single class. Not until Thursday.

Quinn had entered her potions lesson that morning in a pretty good mood considering she had to be taught by Professor Snape for a hour. Her successful tutoring session with Hackett had boosted her confidence, and she was looking forward to next Wednesday already. Her bright smile, however, quickly dimmed as Draco sauntered into the room. 

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

"I hope it does." Ron muttered to Quinn.

"Yeah," said Draco, twisting his face into this 'pained grimace' that Quinn thought made him look constipated. 

Snape told Draco to settle, and then assigned the class their task; to make a Shrinking Solution potion. 

They hadn't been working for even five minutes before Draco began to whine he was unable to cut up his daisy roots because of his arm.

"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him," said Snape, not even lifting his head from his work.

"Uhh, which one?" asked Quinn, sharing a look with Ron.

"Mr Weasley." said Snape, shooting them a look of irritation. 

Harry patted Ron's back as the latter moved to Draco's desk, wincing as Ron harshly cut up his roots. Curious to see how far along Quinn is, Harry leaned over to her side. Her daisy roots sat neatly cut up by her cauldron, but instead of paying attention to her potion, Quinn was studying some thestral scales. "What are you doing?" he asked. 

"Look, the scales look black at first, but when you look closely you can see a bunch of pinks, purples, blues and greens!" said Quinn, passing Harry some. "I think I might make some gloves with a similar design for Ginny." 

Harry looked at the scales and nodded. "Could you make me some?" 

"Sure." grinned Quinn. 

A couple of tables away, Ron and Draco weren't having as nice a conversation. Draco had been riling Ron up since he came in, and Snape was having enough of Ron's 'incompetence' in helping Draco.

"Malfoy, go sit with Potter and other Weasley. Have them help you." instructed Snape. "Hopefully you could stop their nonsense chattering while you're there, otherwise Miss Weasley's potion will turn to ash."

With a frown Quinn looked at her potion, and sure enough it was smoking far more than it should have. She gave a panicked squeak and quickly turned down the heat. "Shit." she sighed, looking into her book to try and salvage her Shrinking Solution. 

Harry wasn't having a much better time. He was trying to skin Draco's shrivelfig as fast as he could, while trying to ignore Draco's broad smirk. 

"How's your arm been lately Malfoy?" asked Harry, mock sympathy dripping from his voice. "It's been looking a little... itchy."

Draco gave a him a suspicious glare, subconsciously rubbing his arm. 

"Seen your pal Hagrid lately?" Draco asked them quietly.

"No..." said Quinn, warily. "Why do you ask?"

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

"An injury that was all your fault-!" snapped Quinn, accidentally chopping her frogs leg in half. 

"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 so annoying it made Harry's eye twitch - "who knows if my arm'll ever be the same again?"