unforeseen [h.p.]

THE BOGGART

Alex didn't like Potions as much as she thought she would.

It wasn't so much as the actual curriculum that bothered her, and neither the fact that she had to sit through the class with the Slytherins, but the Potions Master, Professor Snape, didn't seem too fond of her.

Alex had come to class Thursday morning prepared, well rested, and excited to learn yet another new subject. It was kind of a bummer when Snape regarded her as nothing more than, as Cat would say, dragon dung.

"He doesn't seem to like me very much," said Alex to Harry and Ron. After informing Snape that she was a new student and basically had no idea what she was to do, he merely blinked at her and then instructed Harry to show her what to do. Gemma tried to object, explaining that she was the one who was supposed to tutor Alex, but with a withering glare from Snape, she withdrew her argument.

"He hates everyone," said Ron, cutting up daisy roots for the Shrinking Solution they were supposed to be making.

"But I haven't done anything!" hissed Alex, a bit too loudly. The stares she received caused the tips of her ears to turn pink.

As if Alex's day couldn't get any worse, Malfoy decided to join them for class, swaggering into the dungeon, his right arm covered in bandages and bound up in a sling, acting as if he'd just saved the world and was lucky to only get away with an injury to his arm.

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

"Yeah," said Malfoy, putting on a brave sort of grimace. Alex saw him wink at his friends --Crabbe and Goyle, Alex had learned-- when Pansy looked away.

Malfoy, no doubt with troublesome intentions, decided to set up his cauldron right next to Alex, Harry, and Ron, so that they were preparing their ingredients on the same table. Alex could feel the irritation in her starting to rise.

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

"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him," said Snape without looking up.

Ron went brick red.

"There's nothing wrong with your arm," he hissed at Malfoy.

"Weasley, you heard Professor Snape; cut up these roots."

Ron seized his knife, pulled Malfoy's roots toward him, and began to chop them roughly, so that they were all different sizes.

"Professor," drawled Malfoy, "Weasley's mutilating my roots, sir."

Snape approached their table, stared down his hooked nose at the roots, then gave Ron an unpleasant smile that made Alex shiver.

"Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley."

"But, sir--!"

"Now," said Snape in a dangerous voice.

Ron shoved his own beautifully cut roots across the table at Malfoy, then took up the knife again.

"And, sir, I'll need this shrivelfig skinned," said Malfoy, his voice full of malicious laughter.

"Potter, you can skin Malfoy's shrivelfig," said Snape, giving Harry a look of loathing.

Alex waited for Snape to walk a good distance away before silently switching her roots with Ron's damaged ones. Ron gave her an appreciative grin.

"Got your girlfriend doing all the work, Weasley?"

Alex decided not to look up from repairing the roots. If she did she might accidentally stab Malfoy in the eye or something.

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