𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼𝗰𝗸, harry potter

˗ˋ 35

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
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-: fifth year :-

── IN WHICH SHE ALMOST BURNS HER HAND

. . .

History of Magic was as mind numbingly boring as ever - really, how excited could a class be if it was taught by a ghost. The majority of it she spent writing out the basic idea of a response to Sirius, hiding the parchment under her book whenever Pansy peered over just a little too close for comfort.

The writing was the only thing stopping her from falling asleep right there at her desk, often pushing away from note-taking and convincing Pansy to help get Blaise to smile. Which mostly consisted of them taking turns to try and tickle him with the end of their quills. It didn't work, the Zabini boy keeping a set jaw and gritted teeth, but it passed their time.

"I'm so going to fail that stupid class." Aviana droned as they made their way out of the classroom, stolling along the corridors on their way to their second lesson of Potions. 

"How can they expect a ghost to teach us it. His voice is like.. I don't even know what. But it makes you sleepy right? It's not just me who was almost falling asleep." Pansy whined, linking her arm with the Rosier girl's, leaning her head against her shoulder. "All you were doing was writing a letter Avi, so I can't even copy your notes."

"A letter?" Blaise questioned, peering over at his dark haired friend.

"To my mum. She's in France. Wants an update on everything she missed. Which isn't exactly a lot." Aviana shrugged, lying through her teeth. "I just Snape isn't in too bad of a mood and I'll be able to finish it off before lunch." 

They arrived outside of the dungeons first, standing outside of Snape's classroom door, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle joining them after apparently been busy bullying a second year over something.

The group filed into the classroom one by one as soon as the door opened, Aviana settling besides Pansy at their usual table. Snape had his usual look of pure distaste on his face as he asked them all to settle down. 

"Before we begin today's lesson." Snape began, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at them all, "I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an 'Acceptable' in your O.W.L., or suffer my... displeasure."

"How utterly terrifying." Aviana mumbled to Pansy, taking Snape's harsh look at Neville as a chance to make a comment of some sort, to try and help dispel some of what she had been feeling since the night before when she first saw Umbridge, and what she had felt because of the letter.

"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studyingwith me." Snape continued on. "I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T. Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying good-bye. But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell." He added softly, "So whether you are intending to attempt N.E.W.T. or not, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high-pass level I have come to expect from my O.W.L. students." 

He paused once more, taking another sweeping look across the classroom before walking over to the chalkboard. "Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: If you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing."

"The ingredients and method" - Snapeflicked his wand and words appeared there- "are on the blackboard. You will find everything you need-" he flicked his wand again and the cupboard door prang open, "in the store cupboard. You have an hour and a half... Start."

The Draught of Peace was a fiddly potion. And although it required so much attention and concentration it meant that Aviana couldn't write her letter. But it was perfect for her current mindset, and took her mind off of things for a while.

"Miss Rosier you are about to burn your hand." The drawl came from above her, and a gasp came from Pansy as Aviana quickly retracted her hand. It seemed that she didn't have enough concentration. "Miss Parkinson, help Miss Rosier finish the potion."

"Yes sir." Pansy nodded, as Snape turned to the rest of the class.

"A light silver vapor should now be rising from your potion." The Potions master called, with ten minutes to go. Despite the almost injury, Aviana had managed it. The ten minutes passed quickly, and now Snape moved aroundd the room, examining the cauldrons.

At the Potter boy's cauldron, however,Snape stopped, looking down at Harry with a horrible smirk on his face. "Potter, what is this supposed to be?" Along with several others, Aviana's head shot upwards, eyes drifting over the scene. 

"The Draught of Peace." Harry replied tensely. 

"Tell me, Potter," asked Snape softly, "can you read?" Draco laughed and Aviana resisted the urge to hit him. Despite her being a Slytherin, if there wasn't a definition of unfair treatment, one would just have to look at the interactions between Snape and Potter to get one. 

"Yes, I can," said Harry, his fingers clenched tightly around his wand. 

"Read the third line of the instructions for me, Potter."

 He squinted at the blackboard; it was not easy to make out the instructions through the haze of multicolored steam now filling the dungeon. "'Add powdered moonstone, stir three times counterclockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes, then add two drops of syrup of hellebore.'" His shoulders deflated visibly, giving the impression of realisation. 

"Did you do everything on the third line, Potter?"

"No." Harry replied very quietly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"No," Harry repeated, more loudly. "I forgot the hellebore..."

"I know you did, Potter, which means that this mess is utterly worthless. Evanesco." The contents of Harry's potion vanished; he was left standing beside an empty cauldron. "Those of you who have managed to read the instructions,fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name, and bring it up to my desk for testing." Snape instructed. "Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday."

And feeling much more awake than she had when she walked into the classroom, Aviana began to bottle up her potion, ready for lunch.

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