𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝; 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡.𝐩

𝓨𝓮𝓪𝓻 3, 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 7: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓸𝓰𝓰𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓻𝓸𝓫𝓮

~ chapter seven: the boggart in the wardrobe ~

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 Y/N's opinion, he were the heroic survivor of some dreadful battle.

"How is it, Draco?" simpered Pansy Parkinson. "Does it hurt much?"

'No,' Y/N replied scornfully in her mind.

"Yeah," said Malfoy, putting on a brave sort of grimace. But Y/N saw him wink as Crabbe and Goyle when Pansy had looked away.

"Settle down, settle down," said Professor Snape idly.

Y/N, Harry, and Ron scowled at each other. 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 favored 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, Ron, and Y/N, 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—"

"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him," said Snape without looking up.

Ron went brick red.

"There's nothing wrong with your arm," he hissed at Malfoy.

Malfoy smirked across the table.

"Weasley, you heard Professor Snape; cut up these roots."

Ron seized his knife, pulled Malfoy's roots toward him, and began to chop them roughly, so that they were all different sizes.

"Professor," drawled Malfoy, "Weasley's mutilating my roots, sir."

Snape approached their table, stared down his hooked nose at the roots, then gave Ron an unpleasant smile from beneath his long, greasy black hair.

"Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley."

"But, sir—!"

Ron had spent the last quarter of an hour carefully shredding his on roots into exactly equal pieces.

"Now," said Snape in his most dangerous voice.

Ron shoved his own beautifully cut roots across the table at Malfoy then took up the knife again.

"And, sir, I'll need this shrivelfig skinned," said Malfoy, his voice full of malicious laughter.

"Black, you can skin Malfoy's shrivelfig," said Snape, giving Y/N and Harry the look of loathing he always reserved just for Y/N and Harry.

Y/N took Malfoy's shrivelfig as Ron began trying to repair the damage to the roots he now had to use. Y/N skinned the shrivelfig as fast as she could and flung it back across the table at Malfoy without speaking, not noticing the wink and red that dusted the blonde's cheeks. He was smirking more broadly than ever.