"Were you left out too?" I peered around my book to see a Gryffindor boy looking back at me.
"Excuse me?" I asked, confused. I often zoned out during potions since it was my worst subject and bore me.
"You don't have a partner," the boy said slowly, articulating every word as if I were a little kid, "right?"
"Oh," I glanced around to find everyone in the class paired up around their cauldrons. "I guess so."
I put the book down on my desk and picked up my quill.
The boy plucked it from my grasp with a tis. "We're making a potion, so you won't need this."
"Uh… yeah, I know that," I lied, looking down at the floor.
He stuck his hand out to me. "I'm Naveen. But my friends call me Eight."
"That's a weird nickname." I said as I shook his hand.
"It's a long story." He shrugged, pausing, then, "and you are…?"
"Oh," I smiled shyly, slightly embarrassed, "I'm Marina. But myfriends just call me Marina."
Eight laughed. "Okay then, Marina, shall we make a potion?"
"We shall," I obliged, "or fail trying."
"So optimistic for a Hufflepuff," he joked.
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Are we going to stereotype or make a potion?"
"Hmm…" he concentrated in mock thought.
"I'll answer that for you," I said as grabbed my potions book and flipped it open to the page on the board. The top read in bold black ink 'Polyjuice potion'.
I stared at the page. "Are you kidding me? This stuff takes forever to make!"
"Not," Eight carefully plucked some ingredients from the Gryffindor pair beside us, "if you know how to improve the recipe."
"But we're not supposed to—"
He leaned over and laid a finger on my mouth. "Trust me. I know all about Polyjuice potion and how to speed up the month-long process."
Eight released me.
"If we get in trouble—"
"Its fiiine," he reassured, "and where's your sense of adventure anyway? The thought of risking a grade just to save time should have a smarty like you excited!"
My posture sank a little. "I am not smart."
"Sure you are," Eight said as he started dumping stuff in the cauldron, "You made the highest grade on that last transfiguration's essay, didn't you?"
My face felt flushed. "Yeah, but why do you care?"
It seemed like his cheeks turned red against his tanned skin. "I just have a good memory," he said slowly. He looked back down at his work and continued in silence.
After a moment, I said, "Shouldn't I help you with something?"
Eight waved my offer away. "No no, its good. I'm almost done for now."
He stirred twice more before he said, "Done."
"Is it finished completely?" I asked as I peeked into the cauldron. The contents looked a disgusting gray color.
"Of course not," Eight said, picking up the cauldron and putting it under the table to store until next class. "It'll take a few more days of ingredient-adding."
I felt guilty I hadn't done anything. "Sorry you did all the work," I said.
"Perfectly alright." He picked up his books and quill as Snape dismissed us.
"Hey, wait," I said, rushing to catch up to him. "I want to know."
"Want to know what?" Eight asked.
"Why they call you Eight."
"Oh," his face lit up and I had to admit it was kind of adorable. "Well, the short story is that during first year some older students snuck a bunch of firewhiskey into Gryffindor Tower, and I broke the record by chugging eight glasses of the stuff."
He seemed rather proud of himself for this accomplishment.
"Impressive," I nodded.
"Yeah,-"
He was cut off when a fellow Gryffindor jogged up beside Eight, ignoring me. "Sorry for skipping Potions on you, man. I hope you didn't get stuck with anyone lame."
I didn't hear Eight's reply, but he turned back to me and said, "See you around, Marina."
It seemed like the smile he gave me melted my heart just the tiniest bit.