With hardly a backward glance at Blaise, feverishly toiling over Draco's potion and her own, Draco wandered across the room to where a clump of Gryffindor's had set up their cauldrons. He propped his elbow lightly on Hermione's shoulder, leaning over her and watching as she gently stirred her thick golden potion.
"Your potions will have turned a light golden brown and thickened to a consistency somewhat like a cream soup. That is, if you aren't a total fool..." Snape said with a touch of menace, glancing quickly at Neville, whose potion was a resolute shade of pale peach, and the consistency of a good banana pudding.
"Looks as though you're working on another zero in Potions, Longbottom," Draco said cheerfully.
"You needn't be so happy about it," snapped Hermione. She lowered her voice, "You're atrocious at Charms, would you like it if I announced that?"
She then turned to Neville, fixing a placid smile on her face. "Neville, have you thought of adding a bit of Murtlap essence to your potion? That should even out the consistency and darken the color. It won't help the potency at all, but at least Snape won't have anything to bother you about until he tests it."
Neville's face filled with relief as he measured out a few drops of the thin silvery fluid and stirred it slowly in. His potion was soon looking very similar to Hermione's, but Draco was sure it wouldn't stand the test if he had to use it.
"Oh!" Blaise said, startled. Her potion had begun to boil over while she'd been attending Draco's. He rushed over, forgetting the well-selected insults he'd intended to aim at Neville.
Blaise's hands were scalded from trying to keep her potion in the cauldron, and her wand was lost in the scuffle. She'd lowered the temperature of her fire, but without her wand she couldn't move the hot cauldron, so it continued to boil over. Draco took out his wand, moved Blaise's potion from the flame, and extinguished the fire.
"Zabini, I'd thought that was a feat only achievable by Longbottom, but you've surprised me once again. Detention, Ms. Zabini, to be served this evening at eight o'clock. You will be cleaning this classroom, which I hope will detour any more episodes like this," Snape scolded. His voice was venomous in a way that surprised Harry, Ron and Hermione. They'd never heard Snape use that tone with any member of his own house.
"And well done, Mr. Malfoy, you've helped prevent a catastrophe. If that cauldron hadn't been cooled, it would have certainly exploded," said Snape. Draco's eyes studied the tops of his own fine leather shoes.
"Thank you, sir," he answered quietly. He looked at Blaise, who's hands were being gently washed by another Slytherin girl, Fiona something-or-other. She had loosely curled dark hair, stuck carelessly behind her ears, and her bright, light grey eyes were darting between Blaise's wounded hands. She wasn't a fully pure-blooded witch, and Draco had never bothered to properly learn her name, but recognized her by sight. Blaise's face hid the pain she must have been suffering, her hands were very badly burned.
"Ms. Oliveraux, will you please take your cauldron off the flame and escort our clumsy Ms. Zabini to the hospital wing. I don't want her destroying anything else," Professor Snape ordered. Fiona nodded lightly, barely looking up. Her hands were busy wrapping Blaise's wounds. Fiona twisted her short dark hair up and away from her face, brushed thin red strands from Blaise's eyes, and led her quickly out of the classroom.
Draco milled around, watching Blaise and Fiona leave. He returned to his seat, put a bit of his potion in a flask, then flasked a bit of Blaise's ruined potion as well, labeled them and put them on Professor Snape's desk.
"Excuse me, Professor," he asked, "I'm not feeling well. I think the fumes from the burning potion's gotten to me. May I be excused from class early?"
"Of course, Mr. Malfoy. Don't forget to clean up your work space on the way out."
Draco walked back to his desk, set Crabbe and Goyle to cleaning up, and with a quick backward glance at Hermione, he walked out.
Hermione was righteously outraged. If Blaise hadn't been tending Draco's cauldron, she would have never been hurt in the first place. And Draco hadn't even said anything! Perhaps I've been wrong about him again.
"Your potions will have turned a light golden brown and thickened to a consistency somewhat like a cream soup. That is, if you aren't a total fool..." Snape said with a touch of menace, glancing quickly at Neville, whose potion was a resolute shade of pale peach, and the consistency of a good banana pudding.
"Looks as though you're working on another zero in Potions, Longbottom," Draco said cheerfully.
"You needn't be so happy about it," snapped Hermione. She lowered her voice, "You're atrocious at Charms, would you like it if I announced that?"
She then turned to Neville, fixing a placid smile on her face. "Neville, have you thought of adding a bit of Murtlap essence to your potion? That should even out the consistency and darken the color. It won't help the potency at all, but at least Snape won't have anything to bother you about until he tests it."
Neville's face filled with relief as he measured out a few drops of the thin silvery fluid and stirred it slowly in. His potion was soon looking very similar to Hermione's, but Draco was sure it wouldn't stand the test if he had to use it.
"Oh!" Blaise said, startled. Her potion had begun to boil over while she'd been attending Draco's. He rushed over, forgetting the well-selected insults he'd intended to aim at Neville.
Blaise's hands were scalded from trying to keep her potion in the cauldron, and her wand was lost in the scuffle. She'd lowered the temperature of her fire, but without her wand she couldn't move the hot cauldron, so it continued to boil over. Draco took out his wand, moved Blaise's potion from the flame, and extinguished the fire.
"Zabini, I'd thought that was a feat only achievable by Longbottom, but you've surprised me once again. Detention, Ms. Zabini, to be served this evening at eight o'clock. You will be cleaning this classroom, which I hope will detour any more episodes like this," Snape scolded. His voice was venomous in a way that surprised Harry, Ron and Hermione. They'd never heard Snape use that tone with any member of his own house.
"And well done, Mr. Malfoy, you've helped prevent a catastrophe. If that cauldron hadn't been cooled, it would have certainly exploded," said Snape. Draco's eyes studied the tops of his own fine leather shoes.
"Thank you, sir," he answered quietly. He looked at Blaise, who's hands were being gently washed by another Slytherin girl, Fiona something-or-other. She had loosely curled dark hair, stuck carelessly behind her ears, and her bright, light grey eyes were darting between Blaise's wounded hands. She wasn't a fully pure-blooded witch, and Draco had never bothered to properly learn her name, but recognized her by sight. Blaise's face hid the pain she must have been suffering, her hands were very badly burned.
"Ms. Oliveraux, will you please take your cauldron off the flame and escort our clumsy Ms. Zabini to the hospital wing. I don't want her destroying anything else," Professor Snape ordered. Fiona nodded lightly, barely looking up. Her hands were busy wrapping Blaise's wounds. Fiona twisted her short dark hair up and away from her face, brushed thin red strands from Blaise's eyes, and led her quickly out of the classroom.
Draco milled around, watching Blaise and Fiona leave. He returned to his seat, put a bit of his potion in a flask, then flasked a bit of Blaise's ruined potion as well, labeled them and put them on Professor Snape's desk.
"Excuse me, Professor," he asked, "I'm not feeling well. I think the fumes from the burning potion's gotten to me. May I be excused from class early?"
"Of course, Mr. Malfoy. Don't forget to clean up your work space on the way out."
Draco walked back to his desk, set Crabbe and Goyle to cleaning up, and with a quick backward glance at Hermione, he walked out.
Hermione was righteously outraged. If Blaise hadn't been tending Draco's cauldron, she would have never been hurt in the first place. And Draco hadn't even said anything! Perhaps I've been wrong about him again.