Malfoy doesn't reappear in classes until late on Thursday morning, when the Slytherins and Gryffindors are halfway through double Potions.
He swaggers into the dungeon, his right arm covered in bandages and bound up in a sling, acting, in Harry's opinion, as though he is the heroic survivor of some dreadful battle.
"How is it, Draco?" Simpers Pansy Parkinson. "Does it hurt much?"
"Yeah," says Malfoy, putting on a brave sort of grimace. But Harry sees him wink at Crabbe and Goyle when Pansy looks away.
"Settle down, settle down," says Professor Snape idly.
Harry and Ron scowl at each other; Snape wouldn't say 'settle down' if they walked in late, he'd have given them detention.
But Malfoy has always been able to get away with anything in Snape's classes; Snape is Head of Slytherin house, and generally favoured his own students before all others.
They are making a new potion today, a Shrinking Solution. Malfoy sets up his cauldron right next to Harry and Ron, so that they are preparing their ingredients on the same table.
"Sir," Malfoy calls, "sir, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm -"
"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him," says Snape, without looking up.
Ron goes brick red.
"There's nothing wrong with your arm," he hisses at Malfoy.
Malfoy smirks across the table.
"Weasley, you heard Professor Snape, cut up these roots."
Ron seizes his knife, pulls Malfoy's roots towards him and begins to chop them roughly, so that they are all different sizes.
"Professor," drawls Malfoy, "Weasley's mutilating my roots, sir."
Snape approaches their table, stares down his hooked nose at the roots, then gives Ron an unpleasant smile from beneath his long, greasy black hair.
"Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley."
"But sir -!"
Ron has spent the last quarter of an hour carefully shredding his own roots into exactly equal pieces.
"Now," says Snape in his most dangerous voice.
Ron shoves his own beautifully cut roots across the table at Malfoy, then takes up the knife again.
"And, sir, I'll need this Shrivelfig skinned," says Malfoy, his voice full of malicious laughter.
"Potter, you can skin Malfoy's Shrivelfig," says Snape, giving Harry the look of loathing he always reserves just for him.
Harry takes Malfoy's Shrivelfig as Ron sets about trying to repair the damage to the roots he now has to use.
Harry skins the Shrivelfig as fast as he can and fling it back across the table at Malfoy without speaking.
Malfoy is smirking more broadly than ever.
YOU ARE READING
The Mysterious Heir
Fanfiction2 Years before Harry Potter is born, Voldemort conceives a son to take his place if he died before he reached immortality. After he is born, Voldemort enchants him to be more powerful than himself. This is the story of Polaris Cygnus Lestrange, The...
