Draco didn't reappear in classes until late on Thursday morning, when the Slytherins and Gryffindors were halfway through double Potions. He swaggered into the dungeon, his right arm covered in bandages and bound up in a sling, acting, in my opinion, as though he was the heroic survivor of some dreadful battle.
"How is it, Draco?" simpered Pansy Parkinson. "Does it hurt much?"
"Yeah," said Draco, putting on a brave sort of grimace. But he winked at me. I could barely suppress a smirk. He was faking the most of it for attention and his advantage.
"Settle down, settle down," said Professor Snape idly. Draco had always been able to get away with anything in Snape's classes; Snape was Head of Slytherin house, and generally favoured his own students before all others. They were making a new potion today, a Shrinking Solution. Draco set up his cauldron right next to Harry and Ron, so that they were preparing their ingredients on the same table. Which also sadly including me. I gave me seat to Lucille so she could sit next Astoria since we had more classes together.
"Sir," Draco 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. Ron went brick red. I let out a laugh at this and contained to work.
"There's nothing wrong with your arm," Harry hissed at Draco. Draco smirked across the table. I also looked up to see Ron glare ing at me. I smirked and shrugged in response.
"Weasley, you heard Professor Snape, cut up these roots." I say in a low voice. Ron seized his knife, pulled Draco's roots towards him and began to chop them roughly, so that they were all different sizes.
"Professor," drawled Malfoy, "Weasley's mutilating my roots, sir." Snape approached our table, stared down his hooked nose at the roots, then gave Ron an unpleasant smile from beneath his long, greasy black hair. "Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley."
"But sir –!" Ronald protested. Ron had spent the last quarter of an hour carefully shredding his own roots into exactly equal pieces.
"Now," said Snape in his most dangerous voice. Ron shoved his own beautifully cut roots across the table at Draco, then took up the knife again. '
"And, sir, I'll need this Shrivelfig skinned," said Draco, his voice full of malicious laughter.
"Potter, you can skin Malfoy's Shrivelfig," said Snape, giving Harry the look of loathing he always reserved just for him. Harry took Malfoy's Shrivelfig as Ron set about trying to repair the damage to the roots he now had to use.
"Yeah Potty better get skinning." I say my voice filled with laughter. Harry skinned the Shrivelfig as fast as he could and flung it back across the table at Draco without speaking. Draco was smirking more broadly than ever.
"Seen your pal Hagrid lately?" he asked Potter and Weasley quietly.
"None of your business," said Ron jerkily, without looking up.
"Oh not to happy are we?" I ask mockingly he glares at me once more.
"I'm afraid he won't be a teacher much longer,"said Malfoy, in a tone of mock sorrow. "Father's not very happy about my injury –"
"Keep talking, Malfoy, and I'll give you a real injury," snarled Ron. "– 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, "who knows if my arm'll ever be the same again?"
"So that's why you're putting it on," said Harry, accidentally beheading a dead caterpillar because his hand was shaking in anger. "To try and get Hagrid sacked."
