❝ MERLIN'S GHOST! ❞
❝ I MEAN, YOU'RE NOT WRONG. ❞
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Albany Bronwen was no Chosen One by any means, but being haunted by the ghosts of the greatest sorcerer of all time and a former king had to count for something, right?
❃ in which a lone...
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POTIONS WAS ONE OF ALBANY'S LEAST favourite subjects by a long shot. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the "exact science" and "refined art" of potion-brewing; it was more so to do with the fact that their professor was, as Merlin liked to describe people, a dollophead.
Snape might have been more biased towards her house, but that didn't mean he wasn't the most depressing person to sit in front of and listen to droning on. He was a greasy git in every meaning of the word; stern, harsh and cruel beyond what any other professor could manage, and to be quite frank, Albany wasn't sure why he was in a teaching career considering his intense dislike for children. Not to mention the fact that he'd only allowed those who received an O grade in their O.W.L.s to continue taking the class for their N.E.W.T.s. That alone had caused her more stress in fifth year than the class was worth, and if it weren't for her career aspirations, she would have dropped it in a heartbeat. She was grateful that the arrival of the delegates from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were due to arrive that evening, which meant that classes were ending earlier and her double Potions was cut in half.
Roger Davies was Albany's usual partner for the class, but he had failed to show up that afternoon. Instead, a third chair was dragged over to her table, and she found herself with a Weasley twin on either side of her, grinning like sharks. She could feel Snape's eyes burning into her skull as she pulled out her books, trying not to look suspicious.
"What are you doing?" she hissed under her breath to the pair, as soon as their slimeball of a professor had turned his back on them to write on the chalkboard.
"Obviously, we are sitting beside you, dear Albany," whispered George, a broad smile creasing his cheeks.
"I'm afraid Mr Davies has found himself in the Hospital Wing," Fred added quietly, though didn't look sympathetic in the slightest. On the contrary, his grin was rather like that of the Chesire cat. "He may have picked up and ate a custard cream-"
"-that may have actually been a Canary Cream-"
"-and for some bizarre reason-"
"-well, the product is still technically in the testing stage-"
"-he is taking an awful long time to turn back," Fred finished, looking remarkably pleased considering he'd just been an accomplice in trapping his classmate in the body of a large bird.
"Merlin's pants," Albany breathed, and buried her face in her hands for a moment, before sitting up to acknowledge each twin with a look of exasperation. "You turned Roger into a canary."
"He was always a bit of a quackhead anyway," Fred said, and had difficulty stifling his own laughter as Albany groaned.
"Pomfrey will sort him out," George assured her. "She has a tweetment for everything."
