In Continuation Part 8 - Humour

The following day, late afternoon.

Harry scribbled madly, copying notes off the board. He studiously did not look at the empty place previously occupied by Draco Malfoy.

"Harry? You all right?" Hermione asked, peering anxiously over the top of her cauldron at him.

"Yeah," muttered Harry listlessly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

In answer, she pointed at his parchment. Harry looked down blankly and read,

Simmer the potion at the temperature of a medium red fire, ensuring that why won't Draco admit he likes me too the powdered herbs do not evaporate, as this will cause I wonder where he is now the potion to have an adverse effect when consumed. I'm so confused, After one and a half hours it should have gained the colour and consistency of Stop. Thinking. About. Him!!

"Ah," he said.

"I don't want to know, Harry," Hermione was saying, "But you'd better sort this problem out yourself. We can't help you here."

"Granger!" Snape hissed. "You're talking when you should be writing. Five points from Gryffindor."

Hermione bit her lip and bent her head over her work.

"Potter, you're writing when you should be preparing the ingredients," Snape continued, maliciously. "Ten points will be taken from Gryffindor."

Harry took no notice. He was thinking of someone else.

* * * * * * *

Draco lay on his back in the room he'd been allocated. Technically, he wasn't a Hogwarts pupil anymore, and so was not allowed to sleep in the dorms with the others. He watched a moth flutter, trapped in the lantern.

He got up abruptly, walked out and slammed the door shut. Behind him, the moth flew into the flame and burnt itself to a crisp.

* * * * * * *

"Well done, Goyle. Ten points to Slytherin," Snape looked smug. "Weasley, tell me, what are two of the uses of the blood of a Kneazle?"

Ron said, "Um… cleaning, and…"

"It is evident you did not do the reading I assigned last night. Twenty points from Gryffindor."

"That's not very fair, is it?"

The entire class turned to face the voice speaking from the doorway. Draco was, astoundingly, smirking.

"And what would you know about fair, Master Malfoy?" Snape growled, outraged. "Remove yourself before I have you thrown out."

"Oh, but that would be endangering my safety. And that's the precise reason I'm still at Hogwarts, even though you were so kind as to expel me, Professor," Draco countered, wide eyed, dripping sarcasm.

"Get out," Snape yelled, losing his temper.

Draco wagged his finger and tutted, "I won't not go if you don't say please," he imitated Peeves' accent.

"Get OUT!" Snape bellowed, whipping out his wand and pointing it at Draco.

By now the whole class was rapt. They'd never seen Snape lose control so totally before, unless he was chewing out Harry, but that was different. Snape slowly became aware of the eyes focused on his person. He unabashedly tucked his wand back into the folds of his robes.

"Malfoy, why are you here?" he grated. It sounded like he was forcing the words out past a boulder of rage in his throat.

"I was bored," drawled Draco. "Thought I'd mosey on over here and spice things up a little."

"I can't believe you just said 'mosey'." Ron blurted out. "Wouldn't have thought it of you, Malfoy."

"Times change," Draco replied cooly. He waved his hand regally at Snape. "Do go on with your lesson, Professor, it's most interesting." He gazed around the class, aloof, before seating himself down in his usual place. "You all know that Potions is my favourite subject."

Laughter swelled up before Snape shot the class a look. "Unless you all want to end up like Malfoy here, banished from Hogwarts in disgrace, you'll do well to remember that I am in charge here."

Into the sudden silence Draco said, "I don't feel very banished. I'm still here, aren't I?"

Snape went purple with the effort of not cursing Draco to hell.

The bell rang at that moment. "Saved by the bell," Hermione commented as she packed her bags and swept out of the classroom."

The students rushed out, chattering eagerly, until Snape was the only person left in the room. With a scowl of hatred, he snatched up a delicate vial on his desk, and hurled it to the floor.

"Aargh!" he yelled, for lack of a better expression.

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