Wish Upon A Star

Boggart

The next day at breakfast, Dawn delivered a note to her. It was from Dumbledore. She left breakfast early. She was keeping the time turner today, which meant that she would have to be on time and she can't afford to be late. She ran up to Dumbledore's office, knocked.

"Enter"

"Good Morning, Headmaster"

"Good Morning," Dumbledore said as he gestured to the seat in front of him, the seat Ashlyn usually sits in every time she visited the office.

"Professor McGonagall mentioned that you are interested in taking the animagus course?" Dumbledore said in his calm voice. Ashlyn nodded.

"I hope you learn well"

"Does that mean that you are giving me permission?" Ashlyn asked, her eyes widening. Dumbledore smiled.

"I have already discussed with Professor McGonagall. But I want you to do me a favour. You must keep this a secret from everyone. You are not going to be registered. I hope you understand. "

"Including my friends?" she asked uncertainly. Dumbledore nodded somberly. Ashlyn inhaled deeply. Then nodded. She didn't like it, she was already keeping a lot of secrets.

"What if they find out by accident?" she asked hopefully.

"In that case, it can't be helped," Dumbledore said smiling.

"Is it being kept a secret because of Voldemort?"

Dumbledore nodded. "It could be an advantage"

Ashlyn nodded.

Malfoy didn't come to class until Thursday. The git was doing too much, Ashlyn thought. They were halfway through double Potions when Malfoy entered the dungeons. His right arm resting in a sling, wrapped up in bandages, even more than Ashlyn remembered Madam Pomfrey had tied. 

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

"Yeah," said Malfoy, putting on a brave sort of grimace. Ashlyn scoffed.

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

Ashlyn was preparing her ingredients for the Shrinking Solution carefully when she saw Malfoy take the seat nearest to Harry and Ron's table. Great, she thought sarcastically.

"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 own 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.