Azkaban

Professor Wyylt

A little more than halfway through being done, Amarea had been called by Dumbledore to attend Care of Magical Creatures. She reluctantly left after Dobby promised her he would take good care of the room while she was gone, that he would have the room finished in no time, and to only come back when her class was starting. Amarea kicked rocks as she walked, carefully choosing her footing. Her slippers had only failed her once on the trek to the class; she was thankful no one had been around to see her fall.

"Everyone here?" Walking over to Professor Grubbly-Plank, she nods at the professor, sitting on a rock beside the table that had been set up. "Ah, Miss Wyylt, thank you for joining us today. Let's crack on then - who can tell me what these things are called?"

No one responds, looking over at Amarea with curiosity in their eyes. Feeling their stares, she snaps her gaze to them and they look away hurriedly, the Golden Trio being the only students to hold her gaze. Harry smiles at her but she looks away, thinking about her lesson. A shriek makes her grimace, and she searches the crowd, finding the noise to be a girl she had briefly heard of, Pansy Parkinson. Two other girls from the front of the crowd make a noise, making Amarea furrow her brows. Small, twiglike creatures had lept into the air, revealing themselves. They looked like tiny pixieish creatures made of wood, each with knobbly brown arms and legs, two twiglike fingers at the end of each hand, and a funny, flat, barklike face that hosted a pair of beetle-brown eyes. 

"Kindly keep your voices down, girls," the professor says sharply, scattering a handful of food among the creatures. "So - anyone knows the names of these creatures? Miss Granger?"

"Bowtruckles," Hermione says. "They're tree guardians, usually live in wand-trees."

"Five points for Gryffindor," Professor Grubbly Plank says. "Yes, these are bowtruckles and, as Miss Granger rightly says, they generally live in trees whose wood is of wand quality. Does anybody know what they eat?"

"Woodlice. But fairy eggs if they can get them." Amarea raises her brows in surprise at Hermione's answer. She hadn't taken her for someone with an interest in Magical Creatures, although now that Amarea thought about it, Hermione was interested in any topic she could get her hands on. 

"Good girl, take another five points. So whenever you find leaves or wood from a tree in which a bowtruckle lodges, it is wise to have a gift of woodlice ready to distract or placate it. They may not look dangerous, but if angered they will gouge out human eyes with their fingers, which, as you can see, are very sharp and not at all desirable near the eyeballs. So if you'd like to gather closer, take a few woodlice and a bowtruckle - I have enough here for one between three - you can study them more closely. I want a sketch from each of you with all body parts labeled by the end of the lesson."

Watching the class come closer to the table, Amarea moves the rock she was sitting on with her wand, placing it next to a tree. Sitting down, she watches Harry talk to the Professor, keeping an eye on him. Harry and Draco exchanged pointed glances, talking quietly before the blond-haired boy walked off, smirking over his shoulder. 

It's not long before an accident strikes. Amarea gets up quickly at the sound of Harry's yell. Walking quickly over to him, she looks between him and the bowtruckle in his hand. "Squeeze a little hard, did you?"

Harry nods. She reaches to grab his hand, hesitating slightly. Taking a breath, she grabs him, looking at the two cuts on his hand. They were long and deep, making Amarea frown. Running a gloved finger a few inches away from it, she starts to question him. "How far away does it hurt from the cut?" Harry shrugs, making her eyes roll. "You are no help at all, Harry."

"Sorry," he responds. Harry glares at Crabbe and Goyle, who start to laugh harder as the bowtruckle jumps off him. Moving fast, Amarea picks it up gently.