Even the comfort of the common room did little to sooth Harry's anxiety. Potions class tomorrow was guaranteed to be particularly horrible; Snape had said they would be brewing Phasing Potions and then testing them at the end of class. It was now the night before class, and he still did not have the faintest idea on the many intricacies of the Phasing Potion. His potion's textbook didn't help his anxiety at all either, as it seemed to enjoy detailing the painful deaths that could occur in a misstep while brewing the potion.
Turning a page, Harry sighed. He thought about skipping class tomorrow, possibly feigning a sickness; but the potion counted for a large portion of his grade, and he doubted Snape would believe any excuse he could present. There seemed to be no possible escape, and was precisely the reason why he was pouring over his Potion's text at such a late hour. Suppressing a yawn, Harry turned another page; he wasn't really focusing on the words, however. His Potion's book wasn't exact the most interesting thing in the world.
Burning Bush
Please Comment!