𝑾𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒚

34. One and the same

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    Malfoy being absent for the last couple of classes was a blessing in disguise. She never realized how efficient she could be without the annoying boy blabbering in her ear and throwing insults at her. Those few days were relatively peaceful.

That was, of course, until Thursday morning when Malfoy returned halfway through double potions. His arm was bandaged and held up by a sling acting as though he had gone throw a troubling event.

"How is it, Draco?" simpered Pansy Parkinson. "Does it hurt much?" She asked once the boy passed her.

"Yeah," said Malfoy, wearing a sort of grimace.

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

Amelia returned to her potion, cutting up some daisy roots for her shrinking potion. Her table was occupied by the two Slytherin boys who can't seem to leave Amelia alone. Ever since their talk the two seemed more diligent in proving to her they were worthy of her trust. Something that Amelia noted they valued a little too much.

But those thoughts dwindled when the seat beside her, the only other empty seat in the classroom, was now taken by the dramatic boy himself. She exhaled deeply, preparing herself for the sly comments that will come from him.

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

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

"And, sir, I'll need this shrivelfig skinned," said Malfoy, his voice full of amusement.

" Weasley. Skin Malfoy's shrivelfig," Snape instructed.

Amelia gaped at his words. Face turning red. She grabbed her knife, eyes glaring at the boy, and began cutting the daisy roots in odd shapes.

" Could you do it properly, Weasley?" Malfoy interjected. Unpleased with the different shapes of his roots.

" Then cut them yourself," said Amelia sternly. Pushing the last couple of pieces toward him.

" My arm is broken—"

" Oh please, it's just a scratch." Amelia dismissed, looking back at her own Calderon.

" Easy for you to say," Draco mumbled, picking up the roots and flung them into his cauldron."You weren't the one being attacked."

Amelia scoffed loudly. Attracting wandering eyes toward them. Snape ignored the disruption.

" You wouldn't have been attacked if you didn't insult Buckbeak."

" That big chicken has a name?"

Amelia rolled her eyes. Wishing they could go back to twenty minutes ago when Draco was still stuck in the hospital wing. She didn't know if she is capable of reframing herself from grabbing the knife and using it in a very dangerous way. That could land Malfoy back in the hospital wing with an actual injury.