Harry Potter Male Reader Insert - Book 3

Chapter 5.

potions - boggart - by the fire, I have love

1

With Thursday now–in the coldness of underground two hearts were accoutred in the layer of warmth about–in time of double Potions of Slytherin and Gryffindor Malfoy had appeared only then, stalking into the dungeon with an arm covered in bandages and bound up in a sling and was acting as if he were the only one of the company of survivors of some dreadful battle.

"How is it, Draco?" Pansy Parkinson said. "Does it hurt much?"

"Yeah," Malfoy said and put on a sort of brave face.

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

They were making a new decoction today, a Shrinking Solution. Malfoy set up his cauldron next to Harry and Ron, so they were working at the same table.

"Sir. I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots. My arm."

"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots," Snape said.

Ron flushed. "There's nothing wrong with your arm," he hissed to Malfoy.

Malfoy smirked and leaned closer. "You heard Professor Snape. Cut up these roots."

Ron seized his knife and cut the roots unevenly. They had all become different sizes.

"Professor," Malfoy said. "Weasley's mutilating my roots."

Snape approached the table and stared down at the roots and gave Ron an unpleasant smile.

"Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley."

"But . . ."

"Now."

Ron did so with a scowl.

"And I'll need this shrivelfig skinned," Malfoy said.

"Potter, you can skin Malfoy's shrivelfig," Snape said without looking.

Harry took Malfoy's shrivelfig as Ron tried to repair the damage to the roots he now had to use. Harry skinned the shrivelfig as fast as he could and flung it back across the table at Malfoy without speaking. Malfoy was smirking more broadly than ever.

"Seen your pal Hagrid lately?" he asked them quietly.

"None of your business," Ron said.

"I'm afraid he won't be a teacher much longer," Malfoy said, "Father's not very happy about my injury."

"Keep talking and I'll give you a real injury," Ron said.

"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. Who knows if my arm'll ever be the same again?"

"So that's why you're putting it on," Harry said, hand shaking in anger. "To try to get Hagrid fired."

"Well, partly, Potter. But there are other benefits too. Weasley, slice my caterpillars for me."

There was a weeping sound heard then. And Snape was standing over Neville.

"Orange, Longbottom. Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say quite clearly that only one rat spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?"

Neville had a flushed face and was trembling in fear or shame or sadness or all things mentioned. Hermione raised her chin to say but Y/N grabbed her arm and rubbed it, shaking his head slightly. She looked and didn't say anything after all, complying with his commanding as if she were in the same scheme bonded with an oath of which the leader had written on the paper, all ten–in stone they were before–you must follow.