FLIPPED - harry potter

• 5 - we fear whom we love most

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| WE FEAR WHOM WE LOVE MOST |

— "you mean the way harry
looks at you?" —

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MALFOY DIDNT SHOW UP TO CLASSES UNTIL LATE THURSDAY, when the Slytherins and Gryffindors were halfway through double Potions, his right arm in a bandage, acting as if he'd been in battle, Alora scoffed.

"How is it? Draco?" Pansy asked, with a sympathetic look on her face, "Does it hurt, much?"

"Yeah. ." he said, putting on some sort of brave grimace, Alora rolled her eyes from across the room, Harry saw him wink at Crabbe and Goyle when Pansy turned away.

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

The three Gryffindors gave one and other a look — would Snape said ' settle down ' to them, if they'd walk in late? No, they'd get a straight detention.

"Why does he get away with, everything?" Alora whispered over to Harry, who nodded in response — he managed to get away with all sorts of pondering and bullying he did, usually it was because Snape was near at the time.

They were making a new potion today, a Shrinking Solution, Malfoy set his cauldron right next to Alora, Harry and Ron who were preparing their ingredients on the same table.

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

"Black, cut up Malfoy's roots for him." Snape said without looking up, Alora looked at the blonde boy and sighed,

"You're arms fine — do it yourself, you lazy arse." she said hissed.

"Black, you heard Professor Snape, didn't you? Cut up these roots." he said with an smirk on his face, Alora grabbed his knife so hard she almost cut him, and began to sabotage the roots so they were all over the place.

"Professor," Malfoy cried, "Black's mutilating my roots, sir."

Snape approached their table, stared down his hooked nose at the roots, giving Alora an unpleasant smile from beneath his long, greasy black hair.

"Change roots with Malfoy, Black."

"Sir, that's not fair—"

Alora had spent the last fifteen minutes, carefully cutting up her roots so she would get the potion exactly perfect. They sat in neat, equal pieces.

"Now." Snape said in his most threatening voice.

Alora shoved her beautifully cut up roots onto Malfoy's side of the table, purposefully slamming it down so a few fell of the edge of the table. She took up the knife again,

"And, sir, I need this Shrivelfig skinned." Malfoy asked spoiltly, his voice full of malicious laughter, it boiled their blood.

"Potter, you can skin Malfoy's Shrivelfig," said Snape giving Harry a look of disgust, he always reserved, just for him.

Harry took the Shrivelfig and skinned it as fast as she could, then threw it across the table to Malfoy — meanwhile, Alora was trying to cut her roots back into neat and small chunks.