𝐀𝐈𝐌 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘┊ᴴᵃʳʳʸ ᴾᵒᵗᵗᵉʳ

39 ✥ 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝙱𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚝

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❝ I don't know why she tries to portray herself as a cold-hearted, business-minded freak ❞

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𝕸ALFOY 𝕯IDN’T 𝕽EAPPEAR in classes until late on Thursday morning, when the Slytherins and Gryffindors were halfway through double Potions.

He swaggered into the dungeon, his right arm covered in bandages and bound up in a sling, acting, in Harry’s opinion, as though he were the heroic survivor of some dreadful battle.

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

“Yeah,” said Malfoy, putting on a brave sort of grimace. But Crystal and Harry saw him wink at Crabbe and Goyle when Pansy had looked away.

"There's drama everywhere. . ." said Crystal slowly, "That's why I always say that this world is the biggest television of all time,"

"He just wanted to skip the lessons and create trouble for Hagrid," Harry whispered.

“Settle down, settle down,” said Professor Snape idly.

Harry and Ron scowled at each other; Snape wouldn’t have said “settle down” if they’d walked in late, he’d have given them detention. But Malfoy had always been able to get away with anything in Snape’s classes; Snape was head of Slytherin House, and generally favoured his own students above all others.

They were making a new potion today, a Shrinking Solution. Malfoy set up his cauldron right next to Harry, Crystal and Ron, 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 —”

“Calisto, cut up Malfoy’s roots for him,” said Snape without looking up.

"Cut up Malfoy's arm, copied, right away," said Crystal loudly with an evil glint in her eyes as she held the knife in her hand.

"Sir!" Malfoy squeaked out terrified. Harry and Ron snorted a quiet laugh, satisfied.

"I said the root," said Snape, now giving her full attention.

"Yes, arms, you don't have to repeat I heard it clearly once," said Crystal, sliding a finger on the edge of the knife which shined at the tip reflecting the light, giving off a very sinister-looking aura and grin. Snape gave her a long stare before peeling his eyes off.

"Five points from Gryffindor," Snape muttered under his breath and turned to Ron, “Weasley, cut up Malfoy’s roots for him,”

Ron went brick red.

“There’s nothing wrong with your arm,” he hissed at Malfoy.

Malfoy smirked across the table but instantly wiped off when he saw Crystal, mysteriously smiling while cutting her roots. “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 from beneath his long, greasy black hair.

“Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley.”