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—THE SLYTHERINS AND GRYFFINDORS WERE NOW IN POTIONS CLASS. Halfway through double Potions, Malfoy finally appeared in class.
He swaggered into the dungeon, his right arm covered in bandages and bound up in a sling, acting, in Alexandria's opinion, as though he was the heroic survivor of some dreadful battle.
"How is it, Draco?" simpered Pansy immediately. "Does it hurt much?'
"Yeah," said Draco, putting on a brave sort of grimace, but winked at Alexandria when Pansy had looked away.
She rolled her eyes and went back to her potion, not wanting to deal with her partner.
"Settle down, settle down," said Professor Snape idly.
On the other side of the classroom, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley scowled at each other; Snape wouldn't have said 'settle down' if they'd walked in late, he'd have given them detention. But the Slytherins had always been able to get away with anything in Snape's classes.
They were making a new potion today, a Shrinking Solution.
Draco set up his cauldron right next to Alexandria's, so that they were preparing their ingredients on the same table.
"Sir," Malfoy called, "sir, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm—"
"Slytherin, cut up Malfoy roots—"
"Excuse me?" The Slytherin heiress cut him off coldly.
Snape finally looked up from the parchments in front of him, only now realizing what he had gotten himself into.
"I'd rather die." snarled the girl.
"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him," said Snape.
Ron Weasley went brick red.
Draco took his cauldron and walked up to Ron and Harry's table with a smirk.
"There's nothing wrong with your arm," Weasley hissed at Draco.
Draco's smirk didn't falter. "Weasley, you heard Professor Snape, cut up these roots."
Weasley seized his knife, pulled Draco's roots towards 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 Weasley an unpleasant smile from beneath his long, greasy black hair. "Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley."
"But sir—!"
Weasley had spent the last quarter of an hour carefully shredding his own roots into exactly equal pieces.
