The Wizarding Award Scheme Programme (or W.A.S.P. for short)

2. In a very Severus kind of way...

'Professor Potter, Blake's fallen in the stream...'

Draco watched as Potter ambled off towards the water that followed the edge of the field amongst the trees. He rolled his eyes.

He knew it was a bad idea picking a location near running water, but no, Potter insisted, something about teaching the imps basic survival, four necessities of camp: you need fresh running water, you need fire, you need a shelter, you need food. Though apparently the fourth necessity wasn't actually an immediate concern because, according to Kyle Prichard, a fifteen-year-old font-of-all-knowledge, 'a human can survive for thirty to forty days without food so long as they're properly hydrated'. Blah! Blah! Blah! Draco had childishly added in his own head. He certainly didn't want to test that theory and advised the rest of the group the same, for health and safety reasons and the sake of the school's risk assessments, naturally. Someone had to have an ounce of wisdom amongst this group. He still didn't understand why Headmistress McGonagall had sent him into the extreme wilderness with Potter; he was distinctly out of his comfort zone but at least he could bring common sense and a feeling of discipline to the party.

He supposed he'd better follow Potter, seeing as the rest of the young rascals had scarpered off to spectate young Blake's misfortune.

At least the stream was actually more of a babbling brook than a ravenous river so the boy-child was highly unlikely to have drowned himself, unless, of course, he'd slipped and banged his head open on a rock and knocked himself unconscious as he fell head first into one of the deeper parts of the stream. Oh Merlin! Draco broke into a sprint across the field.

He arrived rather red-faced and out of breath to find Blake was cheerfully telling anyone in earshot that he'd been positive he'd seen some Gillyweed and tried to reach it by stepping on what turned out to be a very wobbly rock. He's sat down rather unexpectantly but 'look, Professor Malfoy!' The boy was waving around a wet fistful of the targeted plant. Potter had already cast a drying spell on his clothes and at least the mid-May weather was unseasonably warm so there was no risk of hyperthermia setting in. Though now the entire group were paddling barefoot in the water, getting the bottoms of their trousers wet and practicing drying and warming spells on each other. Draco hoped Potter had the foresight to check the riverbed for sharp objects.

In fact, the infuriating man was currently not supervising them at all. He was casting a wandless diagnostic spell to check for injuries despite the fact that the little monster obviously couldn't stand still in his impatience and was hopping from one foot to another in desperation to join his friends. Draco grimaced and suggested that he took the precious Gillyweed from Blake despite not wanting to go any closer to Potter's wandless magic because he really didn't want a bunch of fifteen-year-old little horrors cottoning on to what it did to him. Merlin, that would spread around the school quicker than a new addition to Weasleys' Skiving Snacks range. Draco withdrew an empty vial from one of his pockets (an absolute must to carry at all times for any potions master, he reminded any children who were near enough to hear because there was no harm in using the opportunity for a spot of practical teaching), transfigured it into a larger jar and held it out for Blake to drop the weed into.

'Thank you, Blake,' Draco said rather stiffly. Only because he couldn't remember the boy's surname at that particular point in time.

Blake, and Potter (for some reason), looked very pleased with themselves.

He took a deep breath. At least he knew the water was clean, that had been the first task Potter had set him, to take the team and test along the waterway to make sure it wasn't contaminated. They then decided the best place to collect drinking water. Then Potter had set the rule that all washing up was to be done downstream of the designated watering hole but, more importantly, no one, NO ONE, was to carry out any ablutions near the water because it could be conceived highly offensive to any water-sprites inhabiting in the vicinity.