Lion in the Snake Hole

Chapter 3: Draught of Peace...More Like Draught of Piss-Off

CHAPTER 3: DRAUGHT OF PEACE...MORE LIKE DRAUGHT OF PISS OFF

As Snape carried on teaching the effects of a certain potion his class were going to brew, he noticed two students trying to sneak in discretely.

“I want two flasks of it on my desk by the end of class and how kind it is of both of you to join us Miss Frost and Miss Farrow.” Snape sneered. “20 points from Gryffindor.” Groans sounded across the room as other Gryffindors turned to glare at Ariella and Devon.

They slunk down into some seats that happened to be available.

“Now that these ladies have kindly decided to make time for this class in their busy schedules, we can get on.” Snape derided in their direction. They ducked their heads lower, cheeks flaming in embarrassment.

“Now, I’ll assign partners and you’ll remain like that for the whole year.” Then Snape started calling out pairs. Of course, Gryffindors just had to be partnered with Slytherins, didn’t they?

“…Parkinson, Potter. Farrow, Bulstrode…”  

Oh, this can’t be good.

Devon and Bulstrode were completely opposite. Bulstrode was ugly, heavy and brutal. Devon was gorgeous and funny, if only slightly mean to whomever she didn’t like. If it came down to it, Devon could swing a bloody good fist and so could Natalie, though hers would be a little more shaky and hesitant, not to mention the guilt that would be swirling around in her. Ariella however, was much too quiet and shy and couldn’t possibly hit someone who insulted her viciously. The only thing she would to was to cast the Tarantellegra Jinx (which she had picked up from Malfoy firing it at her at some point).

“Ugh! No way!” Devon groaned. “I’m stuck with that hag all year?!”

Ariella’s heart went out to her, the poor thing. “Well, good luck.” She sympathized.

Whipping her head around, Devon looked at Ariella, bewildered. “Good luck? Good luck? This is not good luck. I may as well have been bitten by a Mackled Malaclaw! Now I’ll have to do all the bloody work while she just cracks her knuckles at me if I don’t.”

Ariella felt a tiny bit guilty for her ‘good-luck’ comment. “I’m sorry, Dev. But you know what I mean, don’t you?”

Devon rolled her eyes, a bit spiffed. “Yeah, I ‘spose.” Devon waved at her and grudgingly rose to her feet, shuffling her feet to where Bulstrode sat.

“…Frost, Malfoy…”

Oh no.

This is going to end in a disaster! Ariella thought frantically as she met the cool gaze of none other than Draco Malfoy. Her heart that had stopped beating for a minute now started up again only a gazillion times faster.

Why? WHY? Ariella internally cried. Pair us up for Care of Magical Creatures or Divination but not for Potions!!

Ariella knew she was going to make a fool of herself. Her worst class was Potion, among other things, and all she managed was to do was blow it all up. Draco had not even shown up to class most of the week Ariella accidentally made him grow a French moustache. She was like a female Seamus Finnigan!

Ariella tentatively walked to where he sat. Her stomach fluttered and went topsy-turvy when he smirked at her. Stop it! He’s a Slytherin. Remember what Devon said: he doesn’t deserve you if he fancies Parkinson.

She slid into the seat next to him, aware that if she only just leaned to the left she would brush his arm but she kept her mind firmly on those thoughts, thinking them over and over again.