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Chapter 6 : Potions Sucks
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Not mine =(
Problem fifteen: I might be making a deal with my enemy.
I look at him suspiciously. “What sort of deal?”
Marius looks uncomfortable. “Scorpius put a spell on you on the train—“
“Ha! I knew it! That barstard!” I thump a nearby desk in frustration.
“—and I didn’t know. I want to apologize, and I’d also like to ask something of you, Rose, my dear.”
“Don’t call me ‘my dear’. It’s irritating when you drop all those little lovey-dovey things.”
“And you know what’s really annoying? The way you’ve convinced yourself I love you. I don’t! I’ve got no idea where you get that from, but it’s bordering on stalker-ish, get-me-a-bloody-restraining-order behaviour. And if I pull out an order, you’ll have to go somewhere else to learn magic. Why can’t you learn, I drop every hint I don’t like you!”
Marius listens to my rant calmly. “You’re pretty. I like you. Why can’t it be like that?”
“Because you bloody over complicate it! All the following me around, and doing that ‘Rose, my love’ thing, that’s why it can’t be like that!” It hits me I’m ranting all my frustrations at him in one. “And while I’m here, stop slipping stuff into my bag.”
“You liar! I’ve had chocolates, roses, jewellery, cards, you name it, and I’ve had it!”
“I haven’t done that recently.”
“We haven’t been at school a week, yet.”
“This brings me nicely back to my deal.”
“What deal?” Damn, I’d forgotten that.
Say in love with me. Say in love with me. Please?
“—out of order, cursing you like that. I’d like to make it up to you.”
Damn, I was so sure he’d say Scorp loves me.
“How would you make his mistakes up to me?” I ask curiously.
“Rose, my—Rose... I thought that because his relationship was failing badly, and he’s taking out his annoyance on you—“
I knew it! He loves me!
“—if you would pretend to be in a happy, stable relationship, it would stop him being so mean.”
“Brilliant! Who with?”
Not a bad plan, from an idiot.
“Me, of course!”
Bad plan, bad plan!
“Why ever not? I’m perfect for it! I adore you, you know me—“
“As a bloody stalker!”
“—you still know me, and we’ll be convincing!”
I spot a loophole and dive at it madly. “But I don’t like you! He won’t be convinced!”
“But of course, I thought this through! I found the perfect story: you always loved me, you just didn’t want to admit it!”
“Alright, I’m leaving.”
“Wait, Rose, my love--!”
I slam the door behind me and walk quickly back to my breakfast. Livi and Caspar look at me expectantly as I slump in my chair.
“Bloody idiot thinks that I should go out with him to make Scorpius stop cursing me,” I cry, pulling some toast towards me. “I can’t stand either of them right now!”
“You mean you’ll finally give up on that idiot?” Caspar asks eagerly, “Because I know you love him, but he’s such a—“
“Shut up!” I growl, ripping my toast up before plonking it into my mouth.
“Alright...” Livi says slowly, “Quidditch trials are scheduled for Saturday.”
I sit up straighter at that one. “Really? I’m ready, and Rose Weasley is going to kick arse!”
“We’ve got Potions first,” Caspar says airily, waving her timetable around and bursting my bubble very effectively.
“I’m going to die,” I moan.
“It’s not that bad, Rose—“
“I told her I loved her! And may I remind you that I can’t do memory spells!”
“But Professor Irma didn’t mind!”
“That’s because her hair was on fire!”
“Enough on that, guys.” Livi takes another bite of her bagel. “It’s over. She knows it was a spell.”
The exact incident was a while ago: I was doing my potions work quietly; Scorpius hit me with a spell. It was supposed to make me stand up and tell Marius I loved him, but instead I stood up on my table, threw out my arms and declared my love for my flaming teacher. She was on fire because some idiots were duelling over their cauldron. It later turned out to be Albus and Matthew Grimsby, a muggle born with cute face and nice smile.
Resigned to my fate, I head to Potions miserably, lagging behind Caspar and Livi.
“Relax, Rose, it can’t get worse than being naked in front of the school!”
Potions was worse than ever. We were assigned seats, as per usual, but this time we sat boy-girl.
Fair enough, I hear you say.
Well, it was. I was sat next to one Matthew Grimsby, appreciating his cuteness and easy smile, and having a nice, civilised conversation, and then Scorpius happened.
He couldn’t get on with his partner – what a surprise – and so Professor Irma decided that I, being the only person who can sit next to him and simultaneously go mad, would have the pleasure of sitting by him.
What is his arsing problem?
“I’m not sitting next to the weasel,” he sneers as I watch Matthew go sadly. What, can't I look at a boy who treats me nicely for once?
“I’m not sitting next to the mouse,” I fire back.
“I’d rather not!”
“Children, can’t you just sit down and listen to me?” Professor pleads.
“I can’t sit near it!” I exclaim, “He’s unbearable!”
“Sorry, Rose, but you have to,” Professor says firmly.
So she does remember what I yelled last year. Damn. She doesn’t have to punish me this badly, though!
Scorp mimes retching.
“Sick of yourself already, Malfoy?” I ask sweetly, “I’d be sick too, if I were you.”
“Piss off,” he says bluntly.
Livi shoots me a sympathetic glance, and I grimace back.
I sit down stiffly, trying to concentrate on the effects of Felix Felicis. It doesn’t work. I can see Scorpius writing furiously fast out of the corner of my eye.
I am stuck next to Weaslet. This was not my choice at all! You’re friends with people in high places, get me moved immediately...
I frown. Is this his dad or his lackey he’s writing to? If I wrote to either of my parents like that they’d probably have steam coming out of their ears.
At the table in front of me, Livi’s scribbling away furiously. She stops, smirks, then folds her parchment up and chucks it at me. I catch it expertly between two fingers, and nonchalantly unfold it.
Hey Flower, good luck!
Hahahahaha! This is too funny... Ready to believe he’s an arsehole, and he’ll never be Scorp again? Call him Scorp, I dare you, and see how he responds. Go on, I DARE you.
What did he say back? I bet you did it.
Ah, crap. I can hear the sensible part of my brain telling me not to do it.
Don’t do it Rose! Don’t—
Hey Livi, he said ‘Piss off’. I’m gonna say its code for ‘I love you really’.
Don’t dare me, bitch! I dare you to respond. Ha!
I lob it at the back of her head, hitting her squarely on the piece of skull above her ponytail.
“Passing notes, Weasel?” Scorpius says casually.
Yes! He’s talking to me, and he didn’t swear once!
“Might have been,” I reply equally coolly.
Well, you killed that moment.
“—and class, I’d like you to write a two foot essay on the properties of Felix Felicis by next lesson.”
I swear under my breath. There is no way I have the slightest clue what she’d said about Liquid Luck. Scorpius looks just as put out by the idea of homework, but how’s he supposed to rant about me to his parents if he’s doing his studies?
“And now we begin. Today, we will be stewing the Jobber knoll feathers and the unicorn hair. This is a delicate process, so I recommend that those with shaky hands or quick tempers take a step back.”
I’m excellent at Potions. Honestly, I can whip up whatever you want. Scorpius has always sucked at Potions. His dad probably pulled a few strings to get him in this class.
“Stay still, Malfoy,” I sigh, “And don’t touch the cauldron.”
I quickly light the fire and get the water simmering nicely, then go fetch the feathers. Scanning the board, I realise this is the damn hardest thing I’ve ever been told to make. The feathers are to be the stupidest thing ever, light and fluffy, something I’d see and think looked cute but wouldn’t want to shred and then make into one centimetre square cubes, like I should be doing.
I point my wand at the damn things, and they shred themselves into pieces quite nicely. Jabbing my wand at them again, they make themselves into little boxes of fluff.
“Impressive, Weasel.” Dadgummit, couldn’t he keep his freaking mouth shut?
“No, really. I didn’t think you knew how to point a wand, but you truly have exceeded all of my expectations.”
That little arsehole!
Trying hard to keep myself under control, I plonk the cubes of fluff into the bubbling cauldron of water.
Leave be for five minutes, then prepare and add unicorn hair. Hair must be in inch long segments, added two at a time.
Caspar and Harry appear on the edge of my table.
“Hey, Rose,” Harry says in his gravelly voice. He’s a six foot black pot of gorgeous, and Caspar is head over heels for him. Opposites do attract. Caspar is five foot nothing of blonde, curly haired prettiness. “Hello, Scorpius.”
Scorpius grunts in reply.
“You’ll have to forgive darling Scorpius,” I simper, “He’s not quite over being a small rodent. We’ll change him back soon, though.” I beam at the couple.
“Fuck you, Weasley.” So Scorp is alive, then.
Caspar looks meaningfully at me. “Meet you at the spot, okay?”
Ah, crap. I bet I’m in trouble again.
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