Clarissa Snape [incomplete]

two

—ashamed—

"What is the difference between something venomous and something poisonous?" my father asked the class.

Hermione Granger's hand shot in the air whilst mine followed lazily.

"Miss Granger," father uttered in his usual monotone voice.

Hermione took down her hand excitedly and said, "They mean the same thing sir. Just like monkshood and wolfsbane. Same potion but two different names."

I held back a laugh. She actually got the answer wrong. For the first time in four years, this is the first time I've every heard Hermione get a question wrong.

"Incorrect. Any other answers?"

My hand raised again, only halfway, and I was called on.

"Miss Snape."

"Venomous is when something bites you and makes you ill or brings death. When something is poisonous, you have to ingest it in some way in order for it to have effect," I spoke, smirking as Hermione blushed and huffed angrily.

"Correct," he said. I sat back in my chair and played with the end of my sleeve on my robes. I zoned out for the longest time and only snapped back into reality when Draco, who sat beside me, started moving around and prepared for the potion we were supposedly making.

A Sleeping Draught.

I could literally brew that in my sleep: pun intended.

I paired with Draco before he could protest and find someone else. He's the only person in my class that I like. He will not escape me. I don't mean to sound possessive but I either work with Draco or alone; and alone wasn't an option. So, Draco it is. If only Pansy were in that class. I would have much preferred to pair with her.

Behind me, students gossiped quietly about the Triwizard Tournament and who they thought was going to be chosen.

Personally, I found the idea to be utterly stupid. Who would go into an arena and risk their life for entertainment? Not me.

One-thousand galleons is not enough money to be doing something so dangerous. Especially when you have a good chance of getting serious injured or killed.

As for our potion, we ended up finishing second after Hermione and Ron. As usual, we got a good grade and sat in the back of the classroom to chat till the end of class.

—

I walked along the book filled shelves, hoping to see the name 'Sherri' somewhere. There were too many Sh's in the Wizarding World of you ask me. I managed to find one and pulled it from its dusty shelf. I opened it only to be covered with more dust. I frantically waved my hand around as I tried to get it out of my face and not breathe any particle in.

Behind the bookshelf, that was also behind me, the Gryffindor trio was gossiping to each other in hushed voices.

"I mean, she obviously gets special treatment. She's his daughter after all," said Hermione Granger.

That was definitely untrue. She knew it too. I get treated like every other student.

"Oh Hermione," Ronald sighed, "Just because she corrected you doesn't mean you need to go accusing her of things."

"Are you defending her, Ron?"

"No, but you're being melo-dramatic."

"Am not."

"Are too!"

"I am not. I'm just speaking the truth about the greasy old git and his good for nothing daughter."