I Think I Like Him

17. Resplendent Gold & Shimmering Emerald

Word count: 2150

____________________________

Draco's quill tapped rhythmically against the smooth wood of his desk, professor Flitwik's lecture bleeding into white noise. He watched the clock intently, but the pace of which it ticked was so slow that he was sure it'd been jinxed. His neck ached from the unnatural angle at which his arm propped up his chin, but his staring contest with the clock kept him from moving.

He jumped slightly when those around him stood up, picking up their wands and waving them around while chanting in Latin. He had no clue what they were saying, but he was forced to scrap most of his guesses when a large grey cloud appeared in the middle of the lecture hall with a sharp crackle.

There was a short spell of silence, until the cloud rumbled so deeply that Draco could feel his bones vibrating under his skin. Then half a second later, a heavy load of rain hit the floor in buckets, flooding the room at an alarming rate.

Flitwick, drenched to his waist (to Draco's private amusement), waded through the water and banished the cloud and water, the grey wisps funnelling into his wand with a sharp gust of air, and the water rising from the floor like one large, see-through blanket, joining the cloud in the professors wand.

He threw around some drying charms, clearing the damp marks and any other evidence of the clouds conjuring.

He then looked up to his silent student's, most of which were still stood up, and applauded them, "Excellent, excellent!" Draco decidedly muffled him out when he began droning on about the various uses of the spell, and instead peered around the room.

Vincent and Gregory were sat on his left, and on his right, Blaise. It had previously been Pansy's seat, but recent events left it vacant, and Blaise's seat occupied by the girl a few rows back, specifically the one that just happened to be furthest from Draco. He wasn't quite sure what to do about Pansy. They had never fought before -well, not to this extent, anyway. He couldn't help but think that unless he did something soon, the fractured state of their friendship would be permanent.

Placing his focus back on the Professor, he half-heatedly took in the requirements for the homework, "I want a seven inch essay on the technique and history of the Tempestaso Nubello spell. Anyone who fails to place their's on my desk by next lesson, will be given a detention.

He began packing away his unused quills and blank parchment at the chorus of groans from his classmates.

One more lesson to go

He repeated the phrase to himself as he shuffled to potions. He picked up his pace, however, when he reminded himself that Harry was in that class. He new consciously that it wouldn't make a difference if Harry was there or not, as he would undoubtedly be surrounded by his insufferable friends. Nevertheless, he didn't slow down.

His speed walk halted at the corner. He stopped and adjusted his cloak before calmly rounding it, to meet the eyes of his classmates stood in line outside the door. He could see Harry's mop of hair peaking over a group of red-ties, but he kept his gaze forward, joining Theo in the line.

They all stood talking for a few consecutive minutes, before Snape appeared infront of them, speaking with his usual grunt-like tone that sounded like it was coming from somewhere in his nasal; "Come in, and hurry up Longbottom; I have no time for dawdling" the students, along with a skittish Longbottom, followed his instructions of routinely preparing their cauldron stations.

Once the desks were prepared, cauldrons were clean and mounted on an iron handle, Snape spoke again; "you will all work in pairs-" Draco glanced at Blaise, who was already looking at him. "-that I have chosen." There was a song of sighs and groans as he flicked his wand, causing glowing names to float above desks.