𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

Infatuation

"Good afternoon students," Slughorn calls out into the full classroom. As the year continued on, my class grew overall more and more tired. I could see in everyone's eyes how the work pilling up affected them. To be completely honest, I found Hogwarts classes to be easier than Beauxbatons. "Go ahead and get out your books if you haven't already. We're trying a new potion today."
Beside me, Draco already had his book out in front of him. Not being as quick, I reached into my bag and lifted mine to the table. In front of us sat a chocolate skinned boy, who like me, reached down into his bag for his book. I had come to the conclusion over the last couple weeks that they boys were friends, Draco and the one who sat in front of me. And if I wasn't mistaken, the girl sitting beside the other boy wanted to pursue Draco.
"Turn to page 305, at the top you should see the name Befuddlement Draught," Slughorn reached his desk, turning towards his students, "today you'll be on your own. I want you to make the potion and write a paper on its effects as well as how it is made. You'll use your textbook as research." The class didn't have any verbal reaction but I caught a few eye rolls.
"You may begin, don't forget you must work with a partner. You all know by now that I feel it is best to have someone check over your work, potion dealing could is very risky and potentially dangerous shall you make a mistake." With his last word most of the class stood to retrieve the items necessary for the potion.
Draco stood, so I stayed at the table reviewing the text. The potion didn't seem impossible to make, but it had its difficulties. By the time I had finished reading the general information Draco was back with the items.
"We first need to start by cutting the scurvy grass, and from what I can tell, I think it needs to be diced." I reach for the sharp cutting knife in front of me.
"Are you sure? I don't feel like messing the first step up." He reaches for my open book and reads over the instructions.
"Yes I'm sure, I'm not illiterate." I pull the cutting board closer to me and place the grass layer out on top. I begin to cut it while adding on, "I've already read the instructions. It states you must add the scrapes, which eludes to them being chopped first."
"Fine," he pushes back the book. In the corner of my eyes I notice him rolling up his sleeves, his robes have already been taken off. He grabs the lavage, a green leafy plant and begins picking it apart. The instructions states a specific amount of leaves so head have to pull the leaves apart first.
Once I had finished chopping the grass I put it in the boiling water brewing in front of us. I reached for the long spoon sitting in the cauldron to stir it but Draco called out, stopping me.
"It doesn't instruct you to stir the potion until all the items have been added."
I sigh, grabbing the book. He was right. Another sigh falls from my lips, this one heavy. I hated how he corrected me, and was right. I hated being wrong or being instructed as if I'm not capable of doing something correctly.
"What's your problem?"
Before my hands could reach for the last ingredient I paused at the sound of his voice, "I don't have a problem." My hands dropped to the table. I looked up and over my shoulder to look at him, only he still looked down at the leaves he was pulling.
"Doesn't seem that way." His nonchalantness started to make my head pound.
"What makes you think I have a problem?" I ask. I return his tone and pick up the oddly named flower which was the only other ingredient. I began counting them as well as pulling them apart.
"I guess you could call it my intuition." He then picks up a small pile of leaves and drops them into the cauldron.
"Well I think you should mind your business," my voice resembled mocking but also had some depth to it. I tried not to overreact to his words, I don't want him to think he has an effect on me. I pick up the flowers and add them to the potion. I stir it once clockwise.
"You are my—" he was cut off.
"Class is almost over students, pour your potion into a vial. I expect your papers by tomorrow." Slughorn's voice ended our conversation.
I should be pleased that our childish argument was interrupted but I was left with a curious mind. Was he about to say that I was his business? How could that be?