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The boy who lived... and The most powerful witch...
Stella Black is the daughter of a Mass Murderer....
After the murder of Lily and James Potter and Ava Black (her mother) and the imprisonment of her father Stella is sent to live with...
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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 Stella and 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 Harry and Stella saw him wink at Crabbe and Goyle when Pansy had looked away.
"Settle down, settle down," said Professor Snape idly.
Harry and Ron scowled at each other while Stella rolled her eyes; 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, Stella 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-"
"Black, cut up Malfoy's roots for him," said Snape without looking up.
Stella glared at Draco in annoyance.
"There's nothing wrong with your arm you liar." She hissed at Draco.
Malfoy smirked across the table.
"Black, you heard Professor Snape; cut up these roots."
"Fine."
Stella seized her knife, pulled Malfoy's roots toward her, and began to chop them roughly, so that they were all different shapes and sizes.
"Professor," drawled Malfoy, "Black's mutilating my roots, sir."
Snape approached their table, stared down his hooked nose at the roots, then gave Stella an unpleasant smile from beneath his long, greasy black hair.
"Change roots with Malfoy, Black."
"But sir-!"
Harry knew Stella had spent nearly quarter of an hour carefully shredding her own roots into exactly equal pieces.
"Now," said Snape in his most dangerous voice.
Stella shoved her own beautifully cut roots across the table at Malfoy, then took up the knife again muttering curse words under her breath.
"And, sir, I'll need this shrivelfig skinned," said Malfoy, his voice full of malicious laughter.
"Potter, you can skin Malfoy's shrivelfig," said Snape, giving Harry the look of loathing he always reserved just for him and Stella.
