Father's Little Deatheater

My Favourite Classes

The tables in Potions were long enough to fit six or so students, so the three of us sit together with Draco, Crabbe and Goyle on the other end. I grab my Potions book, and as I do Snape comes bursting into the classroom. I notice Atticus jump slightly at the sound of him coming through the door. "There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class," Snape demands as he bounds through the classroom to his desk. "As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion making. However, for those select few who possess the predisposition," Snape glances at Draco and I before continuing, "I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death," Snape glares down at Harry. "Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to not...pay...attention," I notice Hermione Granger nudge Harry, making him look up at the front. Snape then walks to where he can speak right in Harry's face."Mr. Potter. Our...new...celebrity. Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Hermione and Atticus both raise their hands. I obviously know the answer but I'm not raising my hand, I do not want to look like a know it all. Harry shrugs looking confused. "You don't know? well, let's try again. Where Mr. Potter would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?" "I don't know, sir," Harry said again. "What is the difference between monkshood and wolfbane?" continued Snape. Hermione and Atticus keep their hands raised. "I don't know, sir," replied Harry. "Pity, clearly fame isn't everything... Is it, Mr. Potter?"

Hermione slowly lowers her hand. "Clearly Atticus knows," Alexander speaks abruptly, "seems a pity not to ask him." "Silence!" Snape demands, turning to Alex, looking  insulted. "Put your hand down, you silly boy," Snape glares toward Atticus as he still had his hand up. He turns back his attention to Harry Potter and gets in his face again. "For your information... Asphodel and Wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful, it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A Bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for Monkshood and Wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of Aconite." I mouth all the answers as Snape is telling Harry. "Well? Why aren't you all copying this down?" he demands, as the class begins scrambling to take notes. I decide to write them down as well, even though I know most things about potions, taught by yours truly when I was younger. "And Gryffindor's, note that five points will be taken from your house... for your classmate's cheek."

After Potions was lunch time and I sit next to Draco and Blaise at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. "Have you sent the letter to Mother and Father yet?" Draco asks me with a mouthful of his lunch. "No Draco, I obviously haven't had the time yet, with all the classes this morning. I will send it tonight after I talk to Snape," I reply with a sigh. "Why do you have to talk to Snape?" Draco questions, staring blankly at me. "None of your business Draco," I retort. Suddenly we hear a loud bang come from the Gryffindor table. We all look around and notice some silly Gryffindor has blown himself up after some sort of failed spell. "Bloody Gryffindor," Draco grumbles as other students laugh. Then squawking and flapping of wings was heard above us. "Lucky!" Draco says happily, "Give him the letter!" Draco tells me. "Geez, he hasn't even landed yet Draco," I demand back. "Do you two always bicker like this?" Blaze questions. "Yes!" Draco and I mutter at the same time. Lucky drops a package in front of me from Mother. I open it immediately while Draco pats Lucky and gives him some food. Inside the package is three black leather journals. I smile knowing mother knows very well I like to write down my feelings and occasionally draw. I get out the the letter we wrote to mother and father and use my quill to write a quick thank you to mother for the journals. I then hand the letter to Lucky, placing it in his beak. "Take this to Malfoy Manor please." He then flies out of the Great Hall. "Happy!" I mutter, poking my tongue at Draco, as he watched me give Lucky the letter.

I walk with Draco and his minions to Flying class. As we get outside the castle, some students are already lined up in two rows with brooms by their sides. The teacher, Madam Hooch, comes down the line. She has short hair and hawk yellow eyes. "Good afternoon, class." "Good afternoon, Madam Hooch," the whole class says together. "Welcome to your first flying lesson. Well, what are you waiting for? Everyone step up to the left side of their broomstick. Come on now, hurry up. Stick your right hand over the broom and say, up!" Madam Hooch tells us. "Up!" Everyone says multiple times. Atticus's broom immediately flies into his hand, followed by Harry Potter then Alex. Hermione stares at him and continues calling her broom. "Up!" Draco and I say in unison and our broomsticks fly up in our hands. Draco and I smugly grin at each other. "With feeling!" Madam Hooch adds. "Up!!" Ron yells. His broom then immediately shoots up and whacks him on the nose, causing some students to laugh including Draco and I.

Now, once you've got hold of your broom I want you to mount it, and grip it tight, you don't want to be sliding off the end." Madam Hooch instructs. The class mounts their broomsticks. "When I blow my whistle, I want each of you to kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your broom steady, hover for a moment, and then lean forward slightly and touch back down. On my whistle...3...2..." Madam Hooch blows the whistle. However, Neville's broomstick somehow lifts him off the ground. Neville immediately lifts off. He looks very frightened. "Oh..." Neville mumbles.  "Mr. Longbottom." Madam Hooch calls. "Neville, what are you doing?" I ask him, concerned. "Neville...Neville..." multiple students yell, scared for the poor boy. "We're not supposed to take off, yet," I hear Atticus say with a worried tone. Neville begins soaring away uncontrollably. "M-M-Mr. Longbottom! Mr. Longbottom!" Madam Hooch stutters in a worried tone. "AHH! Down! Down! Ahhhh Help!!!" Neville screams as he's immediately skyrockets towards the sky. "Come back down this instant!" Madam Hooch demands.