𝐼𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝐶𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑊𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠

𝘖𝘯𝘦

     𝐃uring potions, Potter was yet again writing on a piece of parchment rather than working on his potion. He grinned as he scribbled with his quill, and quickly shuffled the note under his potion's book. Snape walked by with prying eyes, narrowing on Harry's cauldron.

"Tell me why, Potter," the professor asked spitefully, "your cauldron has yet to be brewing when class started half an hour ago?"

"I was, erm, just prepping ingredients, sir," the fifth year lied.

"Prepping?" Snaps repeated with a raised eyebrow. "Yes, I'm sure you're prepping with a bunch of nonexistent ingredients on an empty cutting board. Five points off Gryffindor." He said. "If I catch you slipping up again, Potter, I have no problem settling for detention. Am I clear?"

"Yes professor." Harry answered.

As Snape walked away, a snicker was heard nearby. The boy turned to see Draco sneering at him.

"Grinding unicorn hair in your head, Potter?"

Crabbe and Goyle chortled as if they got the joke. Draco smirked approvingly before resting his eyes on the girl next to him. He frowned a bit when she didn't bother giving the "conversation" another glance.

She had sleek black hair that trailed all the way to her lower back. Her dark chocolate eyes focused in on crushing moonstone for the Draught of Peace. Immersed in potion making, she didn't realize how she bit her bottom lip, akin to the color of peaches. Cassiopeia was in her own little bubble.

"Cass, you're ripping your bottom lip again." Malfoy frowned, and he nudged her and pointed to his lips. The girl's eyes widened and her mouth went agape, as she touched her wound.

Harry blinked. Since when was she in this class? He took notice of her emerald green tie. She's a Slytherin. If there's anything Hogwarts taught him, it was that Slytherins and Gryffindors will never get along.

He turned away from the group and began making his potion. The quicker he finished, the sooner he could continue writing.

Once his potion turned white, Harry sighed in relief and leaned back on his chair. He finished. He picked up his quill and immediately continued writing. Hermione noticed the habitual routine and slipped into the seat next to him.

"Who are you writing to?" She asked.

"Huh- who?" Harry abruptly covered the parchment with his arm and tried to act nonchalant, but Hermione was smarter than that. She wasn't called the smartest witch of the year for nothing.

"That note," she jut her chin to his sleeve, "who's it for?"

"No one," Harry slipped out. His eyes widened. "I mean- I'm not writing a letter. Who said I was writing a letter?" he fumbled. Hermione raised an eyebrow. He wasn't very good at hiding things.

"Whatever," Hermione conceded. She stood up. "Just know that I'll find out whatever it is your hiding. One way or another."

.