Chapter 11

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The next day was unexciting. You went from class to class and did what you were told, and occasionally talked to Hannah or Ernie between. Umbridge was still a loser, and basically everyone fell asleep in her class. 

After classes you dragged yourself back to the common room and flopped down on a couch. 

"Hannah I don't want to go meet Malfoy." You complained. She laughed.

"I don't blame you. But do you want to be held back?" She reminded you. You groaned.

"Snape's a loser." You muttered. She laughed. 

"Agreed. I'm meeting Ernie in the library to work on homework, want to join us until you have to meet him?" She asked. 

"No thanks, I'd rather not be a third wheel." You tease. She rolled her eyes.

"Well good luck with Malfoy. Don't cut yourself again. Bye!" She left. You sighed and picked up your homework.

*.*.*.*.*

You had just finished your last assignment when you looked at the clock. 

"6:59? Merlin's Beard I'm dead!" You shriek, and grab your bag. You take off down the hallways and finally reach the potions room, breathing heavily.

"You're late mud blood." Draco sneers. You roll your eyes.

"I was doing homework and lost track of time. What's today's plan then?" You ask him. He hands you an open book. 

"Since you butchered it last year, you're going to make a Confusion Concoction. Do not inhale the fumes, or you'll be even less intelligent, if that's even possible." He smirks. 

"Malfoy, have you ever said anything nice to anyone?" You huff. He suddenly turns serious.

"Actually yes, if you don't remember I tried quite a few times with you last year." He says. You roll your eyes. 

"Giving me a love potion and flirting with me is not being nice." You correct. He smirks.

"Oh but it was so funny. Diggory's face-"

"Don't talk about him. Not if its going to be rude. Ever." You snap. His smile fades.

"Right. Sorry." He says shortly. You nod, and start the potion in silence. 

Five minutes later he already had a complaint.

"That's too much unicorn horn. You'll never get it to the right consistency. Here." He says, and takes the bottle of powdered unicorn horn out of your hands. He pours what you had in the spoon back in the bottle, then adds some other ingredients.

"Okay that should fix it. Continue from where you were." He said. You watched in surprise as he backed up. He actually helped you fix it for once instead of just blowing up!

"Thanks." You said awkwardly. You continued. 

Soon there was another complaint. 

"Stir faster, it's going to be a lumpy mess!" He cried. You quickly corrected your mistake and he stayed quiet. 

Ten minutes later, you were done. 

"Seems okay. I don't really feel like trying it though. How about you have a taste." He teased. 

"Hahah no thanks." You said. 

"Well it's only been a half hour. Let's bottle this and keep it." He smirks. You raise an eyebrow.

"Are you sure we're allowed to do that?" You ask him, knowing full well the answer is no.

"Sure why not. It's not like it will seriously injure anyone. And it won't last more than a day anyway." He answers, not looking you in the eye.

"You better not be planning to use this on me." You say sternly, grabbing his wrist to stop him from bottling it.

"Ah you're no fun. Anyway I plan on using it on Granger." He smirks evilly. 

"Malfoy, use it on someone that will find it funny, not make someone hate you even more." You suggest. He rolls his eyes.

"Who would find this funny?" He asks.

"Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle? One of your friends." You say. You were just hoping that this would save Granger a lot of trouble.

"Fine. It will be fun to mess with Zabini. He thinks he's so perfect." He snickers. You smile. This was the first somewhat civil conversation you've had with Malfoy. 

"So what do we do for the next half hour then?" You asked. He shrugged. 

"Have you finished your potions essay?" He asked. 

"Yeah. That's why I was late." You laugh.

"Let me read it." He demands. 

You sigh and hand over the essay, and sit in silence as he reads it.

"This is terrible. Give me a quill." He demands.

"Hey! I worked hard on that!" You argue, but hand over a quill. 

You watch in horror as he scribbles all over the paper, fixing errors throughout the essay.

After an eternity, he hands the paper back to you.

"Rewrite it and use my corrections, and you should pass." He says. You sigh.

"This class is actual trash." You laugh. 

"Aren't they all? Anyway its been an hour, so I'll see you tomorrow." He says. You nod and pack up, then walk back to the common room to spend hours rewriting your essay.

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