Love Potion #9-3/4

Tongue in Cheek

The next Tuesday, I woke up in my four poster bed draped in red curtains that the sunlight was just peeking through. My cat, Carter, lay on my chest purring, his paws folded under him so that he looked like a fluffy grey loaf. I pulled back the curtain, careful not to disturb Carter, and glanced at the clock. Thirty minutes until my first class. I groaned.

My first class on Tuesdays was Dark Arts. It was the new version of Defense Against the Dark Arts under Snape's rule, and the lessons had been getting more intense through the year. But that was not the only thing my dread was originating from.

I rubbed my eyes, trying desperately not to picture Howell's grinning face. But somehow I couldn't get it out of my mind. Those warm brown eyes, like burning logs in a midsummer campfire. The dimples imprinted on his cheeks. It made my chest burn.

Without thinking I rolled over, much to Carter's dismay. His pale green eyes peaked at me as he readjusted, clearly offended at my lack of courtesy.

"Sorry bud," I whispered to him, scratching under his chin. He seemed to take this apology, and began purring again as he lay down by my side.

I lay in bed for as long as I could justify to myself, as if the sea of blankets would eventually cancel the class. When only ten minutes were left, I grumpily rolled out of bed, trying my best to leave Carter to sleep. After throwing on my robes and brushing my hair and teeth hastily, I started down through the common room to the hallways below. The corridors were bustling with sleepy students rushing from classroom to classroom, departing from their common rooms or the Great Hall if they woke up early enough for breakfast.

When at last I arrived at the dungeon where Dark Arts was held, I surveyed the room quickly. I spotted the corner that Howell was standing in with a cluster of friends, and waved politely as Heather looked up at me. But I was determined to otherwise ignore that half of the classroom.

Professor Carrow walked in, a nasty grin spreading across his ugly face. The sight sent a shudder down my spine.

"Good morning students," he started, in an uncharacteristically cheerful tone. "Today we're going to be practicing dueling."

Excited chattering broke out amongst some of the Slytherins, while the rest of the class sat in fearful silence. Although we had been through this subject before, and it was actually quite fun then, all bets were off with Carrow in charge. My breathing was shallow as I could only sit and hope for a kind dueling partner. One of the Gryffindors, or maybe Heather.

"I'll be assigning your partners," Carrow continued. "Once I call your names, take your places around the room and wait for my signal to begin."

Carrow started calling out names, starting, it seemed to me, by pairing his least favorite students with the particularly cruel ones. When Pansy Parkinson was placed with Neville Longbottom, I felt a mixture of relief for myself and fear for him. At least it couldn't get any worse than that.

"Miss Kingston," Carrow called, "You'll be partnering with Mr. Howell I think."

I closed my eyes and groaned before turning to see Dan. He beamed at me, his stupid eyes practically glowing with anticipation. With reluctance, I stood by him in an empty part of the room. At least I knew he wouldn't be brutal, no matter how obnoxious he was.

"Listen, I've been wanting to talk to you actually," Dan whispered to me as Carrow finished pairing the rest of the class off. Heather got partnered with Zacharias Smith. That was fine -- he was harmless enough. I turned back to Dan, who was staring at me intently. I rolled my eyes.

"What is it?" I asked him.

"I just think we should call a truce," he explained, "Seeing as we're going to be running in the same circles."