𝐀 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 ( harry potter au )

x. malfoy the ferret

    The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy; heavy clouds of grey swirled overhead while Euphemia examined her timetables and Fred, George, and Lee discussed the methods of ageing themselves and bluffing their way into the tournament.

Euphemia hid her smile behind her goblet of warm milk while they plotted their way into the tournament. "A aging spell?" Fred suggested. She took a sip and placed her goblet down.

"That only changes your appearance not your age," Euphemia countered.

"Then, what about a poly juice potion," This time Lee suggested. Euphemia shakes her head no, "Why not?"

"It would take far to much time to make and whose hair could you possibly use to make the potion?" Euphemia said crossing her arm. The three boys shared a look before turning their faces to her with a sweet smile on each of their faces. Realization hit her. "No, absolutely not! Do you know how much hair you need in a poly juice potion for one person let alone three?"

"Oh, come on, Phemie! It's for a good cause!" George said.

"For what? Getting you lot into a tournament that might as well be the last thing you'll ever be doing!" Euphemia snapped, she was already far too worried about Harry attempting to get in and actually getting in. Before the three could respond back to her remark hundreds of owls aired through the great hall through the open windows carrying the morning mall.

The conversation was soon forgotten as they each took the steps down to their first class of the year. NEWT Level Potions with Snape. Potions had always been a weird affair. Snape did not outright dislike her like with Harry and the other Gryffindor but he never outright liked her. It depended on the day sometimes he would quiz her about every single potion and its ingredients and others he would ignore her raised hand.

Today had seemed to be a day where he ignored her and her answers to the questions instead directing his questions to the other Gryffindors. She didn't particularly like him or his class but potions was a requirement to become a healer. So there she was. Classes were so dreadfully slow as they always were in the first day back from the holiday. The only exciting thing that happened was Dark Arts, Professor Moody had been amazing.

Another thing that occurred to make the day interesting was the crowd in front of the entrance hall. "—you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter?" A familiar nasally voice sneered, that Euphemia indentified as Malfoy, Harry's rival since his first year, "So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?" Euphemia almost drew her wand right then and there, he was talking about Mrs Weasley.

"You know your mother, Malfoy?" Harry voice spoke up, "That expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?" Euphemia snorted at she came up closer to the scuffle to separate them and give Malfoy detention.

"Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter,"

"Keep your fat mouth shut, then," Harry said and turned away, it happened really fast, Malfoy brought out his wand. A bang erupted from his wand.

"Stop!" Euphemia shouted, attempting to bring her wand out, and get closer, to block the spell from hitting her brother. Thankfully the spell only grazed past his face and did not hit him. And there was a second bang, this time it did not come from Malfoy but rather behind her.

"Oh! No you don't, Laddie!" Professor Moody shouted, she turned around, he was limping down the staircase, wand out pointing at a now ferret that was shivering on the stone floor exactly where Malfoy was standing. Euphemia stood silently in shock, it would be funny, if she was not sure this was likely not allowed. Many of the others were also silent.

"Did he get you?" Moody growled, one eye focused on Harry, the other and the back of his head.

"No," Harry said, "Missed,"

"Leave it!" Moody shouted, it? Surely, he was not talking about Malfoy.

"Leave – what?" Harry said, bewildered.

"Not you – him!. Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. He was, Euphemia sighed. Moody started to limp towards Crabbe, Goyle and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking towards the dungeons.

"I don't think so!" Moody roared, pointing his wand at the ferret again – it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upwards once more. "I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned," Moody growled, as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. Euphemia stared in horror, she get punishing a student but he was in pain. The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly.

"Professor," Euphemia started before stopping as Moody's movements became more aggressive.

"Never – do – that – again –" Moody said, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upwards again.

"Professor Moody!" Professor McGonagall's voice shouted, sounding surprised. Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," Moody said calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.

"What – what are you doing?" Professor McGonagall said, her eyes following the bouncing ferret's progress through the air.

"Teaching," Moody said.

"Teach  —   Moody, is that a student?" Professor McGonagall shrieked, the books spilling out of her arms.

"Yep," Moody said.

"No!" Professor McGonagall cried, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing. "Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!" Professor McGonagall said weakly. "Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"

"He might've mentioned it, yeah," Moody said, scratching his chin unconcernedly, "but I thought a good sharp shock—" Euphemia stared unabashedly.

"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of house!"

"I'll do that, then," Moody said, staring at Malfoy with great dislike. Malfoy, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Moody and muttered something in which the words 'my father' were distinguishable. Euphemia sighed, she did her one good deed of the day, she did not attack Malfoy and loose her badge, she went into the Great Hall and took a seat.