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Eleanor's pov
I hate Mondays. Especially when I have potions first period.
But Eleanor you are the daughter of a potion master and a complete genius in the subject.
So? The class is full of amateurs who think they're better than everyone else and have no idea how to brew a simple potion.
Is it so hard to keep up with my expertise?
"Can you please pass me that thing when it cools my back," Lezabel sits on her bed as she stares into the mirror as she touches her burnt shoulders.
"Aloe Vera lotion?"
"Yeah..." She doesn't take any notice of me as she still stares into the mirror.
I toss the glass jar of cream that my mother made onto her bed, "Thank you," Lezabel says as she twists the wooden lid off the jar, "What time do we have to be in the lesson?"
"Nine o'clock," I answer as I button up my shirt.
I pull up my skirt and fasten the back of it and I do the same with my socks until they meet the bottom of my knee.
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"You excited for our first potions class of the year?" Enzo slings his arm around me and Lezabel as we leave the hall, walking towards the potions classroom.
I scoff, "No, the class is full of amateurs,"
"Not everyone can be as smart as you, El," Enzo said before I replied, "It's not that hard if you actually tried,"
"Whatever you say,"
"So who is this Professor Snape?" Lezabel questioned as we weaved in and out of little children. I hate the first years.
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"Miss Slytherin please sit next to Mr Malfoy," the stupid brute commanded for the 100th time.
Who does he think he is?! Telling me what to do! The audacity.
I saved his pathetic half-blood life and this is how he repays me? I mean I didn't have to kill a psychopath that was going to murder all purebloods and half-bloods.
"No," The sternness in my voice was inevitable. I look towards my designated seat and the people who shared the same table as me.
