My mind was racing. Today was merely the first day back, yet so much had already happened that I couldn't think straight. It had only been half an hour since Zabini and I left Malfoy in the infirmary with Madam Pomfrey. I still couldn't shake the ringing in my ears that Malfoy's screams had left…
I rested my forehead in the palm of my hand as I slouched over my book in the library. I had a free period and I desperately needed something to take my mind off of classes and Death Omens.
No more negativity.
I slammed my book shut and heaved myself out of my spot. I brushed my fingers along the spines of books in a random aisle of the library. Hardcover, softcover, excellent-condition, worn, the shelves didn't discriminate. I, however, was on a seemingly endless search for a perfect book. I knew if I decided on a novel that it needed to have a nice plot or good resources if not. The book needed to be light, but not so light that it had no wisdom to give. I paced throughout the library, opening countless books, only to find that they didn't fit my sub-conscience requirements. Perhaps the perfect book was just hiding somewhere and I couldn't find it.
Having been fed up with such ill-luck, I snatched a random, dark red book that had been lousily placed back on the shelf by the previous reader. I gingerly rubbed my hand upon the cover, feeling all the weathered imperfections that made the book look abused and neglected. Its cover was soft and worn to the point I could feel a slight shift in its placement as my fingers grazed back and forth again.
I shifted my grip on the book so my hands held on the spine and lip alike. I glanced down at the cover, marvelling over its tattered beauty. There were slight snags in the dirt-imbued fabric, and a ring of dark brown at the bottom right-hand corner where I can only assume the book fell victim to being a coffee coaster. I smiled softly to myself as the pad of my right-thumb traced over the lining of the mug-ring. The title was embossed with gold plating; its shine was a stark difference from the rest of the book's aged condition. 'The Master Book of Herbalism'.
Perfect!
If it's worn and overused state was any indication of the quality of the book, I had found something quite promising. I began to move back to my table again, the book clenched to my chest. Eager to begin reading, I sat down at the first chair just at the corner of the long dark oak table.
I flipped through a few pages of my text and from my peripheral I noticed three sets of legs had stopped abruptly. Deep-red inlays were stitched inside their robes: Gryffindors. I tried to ignore them and proceeded on with my desperate attempt to read. This proved difficult since the three started to murmur. I gathered they were two boys and a girl; they were quite loud. The girl and one of the boys seemed particularly unhappy, but the second boy sounded almost apologetic.
I had an inkling of who those three were.
I tightly gripped onto my book and tried to hide my face with the hand I was still resting on. My knuckles cramped at how tight I clenched my fist around my book. I was trying to clear my head, yet those three disrupted that tremendously. With purpose, I searched for a random spell in the book I had. The pages occasionally tugged against my robe's sleeve, making a heart-dropping tearing sound, but no damage was actually done.
I peeked to see if the trio had left since silence had fallen once again. Only two feet remained. They, then, walked away, too. I closed my eyes to reclaim some sense of peace, but the scraping sound of heavy wood acting against wooden flooring startled me. I groaned and felt a person sit across from me; they weren't very discrete in their arrival either. They hopped forward in their chair to tuck under the table and drew many eyes, including the librarian, Madam Pince, who shushed them loudly.
I continued to flip rigorously through my book, searching for the first type of spell I thought of. I hoped that if I ignored whoever it was for a good while, they'd catch the memo that I wanted to be left alone. They; however, did not. They sat silently, and it was nerve-wracking; it felt as if they were staring at me, waiting - begging - to be acknowledged. I let out a groan and glanced up from my reading. I was greeted by the soft gaze of none other than Harry Potter. His bright green eyes looked at me almost as if in wonder.
My body didn't know whether to be flustered or annoyed; My cheeks grew warm, but my brows knitted together.
"Protection Spells?" The dark-haired boy broke the silence, glancing down at my book.
I noticed where my hands had led me, and indeed, I have been flipping through the protection spell chapter. "May I help you?" I asked him, my voice was a bit cold, which I immediately regretted.
"I'm Harry Potter," he introduced himself, reaching out his hand.
"I know who you are."
Harry slowly took his hand back and stifled an awkward laugh. "Of course," there was a slight pause. "It was impressive what you did back there," he stated.
I hummed in return, flipping back through the book still.
"Are you searching up something for Malfoy?" He asked, eyeing my book again. His voice gave off a noticeable hatred for the blond, but there was something more — a tinge of jealousy?
"No," I said sternly, flipping the next page over harsher than intended. "Seeking something for myself."
Harry hummed, discomfort filled the air. I glanced to my left, and I saw Harry's two friends sitting in the next table over, whispering to each other quite aggressively. I made eye contact with the Granger girl, but I immediately looked away.
"Why are you sitting here and not with your friends?" I asked. "I've noticed they're not too fond of me, so why are you here?"
Harry peered at the two, then back at me. "Forget them," he said simply. "As I mentioned, I think it's really impressive what you did back there… with the Hippogriff. I'd never imagine a Slytherin doing something that'd put their own neck on the line. I wouldn't have done it myself… especially for—," he trailed.
I felt the same stabbing pain in my chest just as I did back in Divination. I faced Harry, a trace of resentment in my eyes, and I gave my book a firm shut.
"You wouldn't have done it yourself? Especially for Malfoy?" I practically shouted. "Is that what you're suggesting?"
Madam Pince shushed from afar. I narrowed my eyes at Potter, lowering my voice. "So, you would have just let him die? And just because I'm a Slytherin, you assume I'm incapable of performing good deeds?"
Potter stared at me in shock. "Well, no… I didn't mean—"
I roughly stood up from my seat, brimming with irritation, and glared down at him. "Good day to you, Mr Potter." I huffed and walked off, leaving the book behind.
As I fast-paced my way down the opened corridors of the ground-floor, the late summer wind blew past me. Everything was frustrating me beyond understanding.
You're actually kinda nice for a Slytherin.
I wouldn't have done it myself.
I'd never imagine a Slytherin doing something that'd put their own neck on the line.
Especially for Malfoy.
What in the bloody hell was wrong with the people in this cursed castle? It had been an entire day and yet I was still on edge with all the words rushing through my mind.
It was lunchtime and Malfoy was nowhere to be seen on the Slytherin table. I sat myself down at the end and grabbed a few things to put on my plate.
Pansy was still wailing over Malfoy. There was no point in her looking like a shrivelled up pug all day and all night. She acted as if he had died a tragic death… well, I suppose he almost had. Pansy exploited that to her advantage, convincing some professors that she was in too much emotional distress to do any of her assignments. Crabbe and Goyle, on the other hand, just seemed more lost than usual. Man, if Malfoy had indeed gone missing or died, what would these three do with themselves? They were utterly pathetic.
I felt a tall, dark figure sit beside me as the wooden bench bowed at the person's weight.
"How are you holding up?" the figure asked in a sincere yet serious tone.
I glimpsed over my shoulder; it was Blaise Zabini.
"Are you doing okay?" He glanced at the tear-stained Pansy, then back to me.
I nodded, noticing his gesture towards Pansy, "Yeah. I'm fine."
"You don't look like it. You've been hollowed-faced since the incident."
I looked at him questionably and gently touched my cheeks. "You've been watching me? You creep."
"No. I'm just observant," he replied dully, resting his chin on the palm of his hand.
I hummed in a sarcastic response. "Pay no mind to Pansy, she's just playing it up. She didn't even see what happened or even how awful it actually was," I grumbled, noticing Zabini was looking back at Pansy.
His dark brown eyes switched back to me. His eyes narrowed and it appeared as if he was struggling to examine me for something.
"What?" I huffed, growing a bit uneasy. I hugged myself as if it'd make me invisible.
"Are you done already? You barely touched your food."
"I had a snack earlier," I lied. "I'm going down to the dungeons to get my textbook," I said. I grabbed a green apple from the golden ornate fruit bowl and stuffed it into my robe pocket.
"So, what class do you have after lunch?" he said as he eyed my hand as I let the apple drop into place.
"Herbology. Why?"
"Wanna walk down to the greenhouses together?"
I sighed, "If you're going that way, then I don't see why not."
He grinned.
The conversation ended, but Zabini stayed where he sat and helped himself to a plate to eat. I had only eaten half the food I gave myself, and there wasn't a lot to begin with. My appetite was shot and I recognised that it upset me, but maybe it went a lot deeper than I thought. Zabini seemed to notice.
I turned on my heel to exit The Great Hall, but Potter stood in front of me. I sighed and rolled my eyes. Since the exit was behind him, I walked to him. "What do you want, Potter?"
He turned to walk after me. "I just wanted to say that I was sorry for yesterday. I didn't mean for it to come off—"
I abruptly stopped. We were now outside in the corridor. I swung to look at Potter in the eyes. "You what? Didn't mean to sound like a bloody bigot?" I spun back around and started walking again, but a bit faster.
Potter jogged after me. "Yeah! I didn't mean to sound like a 'bloody bigot', it wasn't intentional," he claimed. "I just honestly thought that you were brilliant yesterday. I think that only a skilled witch or wizard could pull something off like that in an instant."
"It was merely a simple blocking spell. No need to fuss over it, I'm no Harry Potter," I said, my tone becoming less apprehensive as my pace slowed.
Potter chuckled to himself, his steps falling in line with mine. "No, of course not. I suspect you're much better than he is. Harry Potter's too much of a 'bloody bigot' to do what you did," he grinned, having a jab at himself.
I noticed a small smile creep onto my lips. "If you say so, Potter."
"So, where are you headed to so early?" he asked, sounding like he was trying to keep the conversation alive.
"Slytherin Common Room to get my Herbology book," I simply stated.
"You have Herbology next?" he chirped.
I nodded.
"If you like, you could walk down with me, Hermione, and Ron," he offered. I cut him off with a piercing glare.
"No offense, but I don't enjoy being around them. They lump me in with the likes of Malfoy when they don't even know me!" I retorted.
"But, aren't you friends with Malfoy and Parkinson?" he asked rather confusedly.
"No. No, I am not friends with Pansy, nor am I friends with Malfoy. I simply share a dorm with Pansy, and I've only just officially met Malfoy yesterday. We are not friends," I ranted on. "Besides, I already told Zabini I'd walk down with him."
"Isn't Zabini also a part of Malfoy's goon squad?"
I stopped just before descending down the stairs to the dungeons and looked at Potter sternly. "And what if he is, Potter? Why does that matter if I, or him, or anyone, for that matter, are in Malfoy's foolish little 'goon squad'," I lashed out, my voice echoing down the steps.
"Because Malfoy isn't a good person, nor are his goons. You're not like that," he responded quietly.
I let out a soft and low sigh. "Look, I'm tired. I just want to get my book and get on with my day. So, if you'll excuse me," I said, struggling to calm my fragile temper. I turned and started jogging down the stairs. Silence fell behind me as Potter never responded.
I quickly made my way down to the dungeons, ran past Snape's empty potions classroom, and took a couple turns before I reached the secret entrance to the Slytherin common room. I uttered the password, though I hated it, and made my way inside as the opening was just big enough for me to squeeze through.
With my books, I hurried my way back up to the ground-floor; it was nearing the end of lunch and I still needed to meet Zabini at the gates. The corridors quickly filled with the sound of bustling students, gossiping and laughing, on their way to their next class. Finally, after some running, I made it to the front gates and Zabini stood leaning against the stone megalith with his books in one hand and his other stroking the top of his head.
"Zabini!" I called out, running up to him then stopping to catch a breather. I bent over, placing my free hand on my knee and took deep breaths.
"Tired already, Y/L/N?" he laughed.
"Oh — shut — up," I heaved, standing back up straight.
"Come, let's go." Zabini pushed himself off the wall and started down the hill.
"Hey!" I called to him, jogging to catch up with him. "Are you tryna make me die from an asthma attack?" I huffed, punching him in the arm.
He chuckled, rubbing his arm slightly, though it didn't hurt. "No, why? Do you have asthma?" he quizzed.
"No, but right now it sure feels like it," I panted, falling in line with his footsteps.
Minutes later, we made it down to the east side of the hill. Slytherins, Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors, and Ravenclaws alike, stood waiting outside the greenhouses waiting for Professor Sprout to appear and start class. The doors magically swung open and all the students filed in, each taking a spot at the table.
The large spacious green-tinted glass building was covered in plants of all sizes, types, and sentients. There were magically enchanted watering cans that floated over the most demanding of plants, raining down on them to their delight. In newer potted plants, enchanted hand-held shovels and rakes prepped pots for mulching. The humming of small pixie-like birds dashed over my head and a few others as we entered to welcome us in, and they swiftly darted off to pollinate some more flowers.
"Good Afternoon, students," Professor Sprout greeted with a pleasant smile. She was a rather short and plump older woman, her face was pudgy with blotchy red cheeks, and her salt-and-pepper hair was ever so short and coily under her pointed witches' hat. "Today, we will be studying a new plant, Valerian," she started. "Who here kn—"
Instantly my hand shot up, but mine wasn't the only one. A few spots ahead of me on the other side of the table stood Granger. Her light brown eyes grew dark as she peered at me and waved her hand to gain the attention of Professor Sprout.
"Miss Y/L/N, would you, please?" the professor picked.
A shameful smirk grew on my face, and I put my hand down. "There is Valerian the plant and Valerian root and sprigs. The former is used as a common cooking ingredient for chocolates whereas the latter is applied for potion-making," I began, eyeing Granger, who looked very bothered. "It also was known in medieval times as 'All Heal'. It was recognised for its sedative and antispasmodic properties, and so was utilised as a sleep and nerve remedy making it a fundamental element to Draught of Living Death, Sleeping Draught, a weaker variant of Living Death, and also, Draught of Peace."
"Why, yes! That's completely right! Wonderfully said Miss Y/L/N!" beamed Professor Sprout. "Five points to Slytherin!"
Zabini, who stood behind me, placed a hand on my shoulder and leaned over to my ear. "Good job, I never would have guessed such a bitter-looking individual as yourself had such a soft spot for plants," he whispered, ending in a small snicker.
I rolled my eyes and glanced at him. "I'm not bitter," I tried to say, but he just wiggled his index finger at me and put it to his closed lips to tell me to be quiet. I furrowed my brows at him in annoyance.
"Now class, in front of each and every one of you, there's a small bundle of Valerian." Professor Sprout held up her very own bundle of the plant. "What I would like you to do for this class is to create a mixture of herbs - of your liking - that nicely compliments the provided plant. You must work alone. I am only here today to observe and to see what you can recall from the past two years. My greenhouses are at your disposal; however, do not take more than you need. You have until the end of class." With the end of her speech, she clapped her hands twice and everyone went instantly to work.
This should be easy. Valerian has sleeping and soothing properties, so I just need to find other herbs that will complement it and not counteract it…
I started to gently pull apart the bundle of Valerian. Tearing off the blossoms, I put them in a discard pile, and broke the sprigs, purposefully leaving them large and uneven sizes. I carefully thought about what further herbs I should add; I was going for a drinkable remedy, such as tea. I circled in my spot and scanned over all the possible plants I could choose from, then I located it — Mint for clarity of mind. I stepped over to the potted mint, careful not to hit my head on the watering can that hovered above it, and tore off two leaves and laid them in the same pile as the Valerian sprigs.
And Lavender to alleviate grief and guilt…
I left to go outside where a few other students were already scavenging for items to use. Just a few plant boxes away, I found the Lavenders and climbed my way through the students to get them. I plucked off about ten of the flower's tiny petals and headed back inside. I placed the light purple petals down into the pile of the other herbs and I collected them in a mortar bowl and tossed them gently with my fingertips, mindful to not crush any of the petals.
After tossing, I poured the herbs into a small sheer white baggie and pulled the drawstring on either side to close it.
"Professor," I started, as I walked over to Professor Sprout. Her smiling face turned to me.
"Finished already, dear?" she asked, taking the small bag from me to study it. "Spell bag or herbal remedy?"
"Remedy, Professor," I answered promptly.
"Very well done, Miss Y/L/N. Very simple, yet practical. Would you like me to dry these for you?"
"If you could, please," I smiled as Professor Sprout rushed off with my undried tea bag to pin it against the north window. I turned to return to my place to conjure up a list of needed ingredients for a little personal project of mine. Zabini stood there, still staring at his untouched Valerian.
"Now, how in the bloody hell did you manage to come up with something in only ten minutes?" he demanded, throwing me a sideways glance.
I looked up from my rolled out parchment, grabbing my quill. "Herbology is quite simple, that's why," I said as if it was obvious.
His eyes grew wide, though his eyebrows were knitted and raised. His head took a quick double-take from me to his workplace then back to me. "Excuse me? Simple? I haven't the slightest idea what I'm supposed to be doing."
I gave him a dull expression. "And what do you expect me to do about that?"
"Help me?" he pleaded, putting his palms together.
"Are you… pouting?" I asked, raising a single brow.
"If it works," he said, keeping a smirk from developing.
I rolled my eyes. "Okay, fine. What exactly do you need? It better be quick, because I'm tryna work on something," I gave in.
A huge grin grew across Zabini's face. "Wicked! Just give me a couple herbs and what the end result would be used for."
"So, do your entire assignment for you?" I signed.
"Well, yeah. How else would you help?"
"You know what?" I started, shifting myself in my spot, and opening my herbology textbook, "How 'bout you just use that handy book of yours, and I not help you. I prefer that idea more."
Zabini's head dropped in defeat. "You're joking, right?"
"Nope," I answered simply, letting the P pop. I flipped through the pages going to the appendix of the book and ran my index finger down the list of herbs mentioned.
Zabini let out a heavy huff and opened his own textbook and started browsing himself, thoroughly saturated in his loss.
With only five minutes left in class, most students were done with the assignment and were tidying up their workspaces, unless of course if their name rhymes with Useless Tortellini. I was finishing up writing down the list of herbs I required and what each was used for.
Zabini, on the other hand, was beating his fist against the table in frustration; he had only found a single herb. Although two herbs could theoretically work, they would never do as well as a mixture of three or more. I snickered at the sight of how baffled he was.
"Shut up Y/L/N!" he sneered, causing multiple people to glance up at him from their packed bags. He shot a death glare at everyone. "Oh, shove off!"
I plucked some cypress cuttings out of a jar on the shelf and tossed it on the table in front of Zabini. "Here, you giant baby. With these three ingredients, you should be able to make a nice incense jar."
Zabini gave me a keen glimmer, completely speechless.
I rolled my eyes once more. "Take it or fail, see if I care."
And with that, he hastily jammed the herbs into a small empty glass jar and handed it to Professor Sprout. She eyed it skeptically, but accepted it, anyway.
"Now, before you go, children. I want you to write a two-foot-long scroll on what you made here today and what its use is. Due by next class. Dismissed!"
Students groaned aloud and quickly flooded out the greenhouse doors and dashed up the hill. Zabini started packing his bag.
"Thank you," he said in a soft voice, not daring to face me.
I smiled and patted him on the back. "Make sure you read the texts, we have them for a reason," I encouraged and walked off towards Professor Sprout, the greenhouse now practically empty.
"Professor," I started, getting her attention once more. "I was wondering if I could collect some of your herbs for personal use? I seemed to have forgotten to replenish my supply while I was at Diagon Alley before term," I asked, hoping greatly she'd approve.
"Of course! Just this one time, Miss Y/L/N. I cannot in good conscience deny one of my top students the means to improve her studies!" she glowed, patting me on the arm gently. I mentally high-fived myself, unfolding the piece of parchment I was writing on just not too long ago, and read it over. Then I turned on my heel to grab the herbs listed, making sure I put them in a small bag of their own so they wouldn't mix.
I was about to leave the greenhouse when Professor Sprout walked over to me, smiling. "Oh, before I forget, dear. There's an apothecary down in Hogsmeade, she's a dear friend. If you ever find yourself in her shoppe, do be sure to tell her I sent you," she said brightly. I smiled back, nodding, and left for the last ingredient, a very significant and troublesome one to obtain.
Bark of a Whomping Willow.
I knew this was the sole ingredient I'd be rejected. Professor Sprout rarely dared to collect much herself, but I wanted all the herbs I could get my hands on. I casually walked out the greenhouse so as to not raise the professor's awareness to my sudden uneasiness. As I got just a few metres from the greenhouse acting as if I were about to climb the hill to the castle, I stopped, looked around to see if anyone was around, then quickly sprinted for the hill where The Whomping Willow lived.
Upon reaching the hilltop, I stood still, staring at the resting tree. A small red cardinal flew right over me. At first I smiled at its song as he flew, but to the bird's mistake, he flew right into the Whomping Willow. He combusted into a cluster of feathers. Silence settled upon the bluff again. I stared at the red feathers on the grass and took a gulp. I hoped to not be the next victim to the temperamental tree.
I took a few soft steps forward, but the Whomping Willow immediately sensed my presence and whipped one of its long and thin branches towards me. My eyes widened, and I quickly jumped backwards, stumbling onto my back. The thin branch's reach met my cheek, cutting through it swiftly. I winced in pain and felt the long cut; it stung to the touch. My fingertips reddened with a small bit of blood.
I stood to my feet again and analysed the tree, trying to best figure out how I'd make my way to its trunk. I scanned the base of the tree and I saw it: the knot. Unknowingly to myself, I ran for it. Suddenly, a hard-hitting branch slung me to the side a few meters. I grunted, holding my torso. I rolled over unto my back and saw the tree bending down to flatten me like a bug.
I instinctively drew out my wand and pointed it up at the diving tree. "IMMOBULUS!" I shrieked. A shot of silver came from my wand striking the Willow and it froze just a few feet from me. I let out a relieved sigh and rolled out the way and jogged toward the knot on the tree.
I've read that these neutralise the Whomping Willow, forcing it to be docile.
I pressed on the knot, the charm I had cast shattered and the tree slowly reverted to its normal resting position. It was as if it were breathing as the branches gently swayed in the wind.
I opened my bag and seized my shrunken athame. It was smaller than its typical length, but for what I needed it for right now, it would do just fine as it was. I stabbed the trunk of the Whomping Willow and tugged at it downwards, slicing into its thick bark. Peeling it off, I placed them within a medium-sized pouch, then packed my bag. I placed my hand over the spot I carved into and closed my eyes.
Thank you.
I was broken from my thoughts when I overheard a group of students walk out onto the courtyard not too far from me. I heard someone scream. Out of curiosity, I rushed to the arched wall and looked out onto the lawn to see a red-headed student rolling around in the plush green grass in front of some others.
"It's killed meh, it's killed meh, I say!" they yelled out, mocking what happened to Malfoy just yesterday. Another was acting out Buckbeak, treating it as if the creature was completely innocent. Their friends all held their stomachs from their painful laughter.
I hopped onto the ledge on the wall with my bag on my shoulder and stepped off onto the lawn. I glared at the group.
"Oi!" I called, making myself known. The group stopped their laughter to look at me. "What's so funny here?" I demanded with venom in my voice.
The jokester sat up from his place on the grass and grinned. "Malfoy, of course," he responded. The second boy leaned down to the other on the ground, reaching his hand out for the other to take it and helped him up. They were identical.
I eyed the two. "Neither of you were there. I haven't seen your pale faces in a single class of ours. How do you know it's even a matter to joke about?" I inspected their appearances. "Pale freckled faces, red hair, and free of all care? You must be the Weasley Twins," I pointed out.
The two boys grinned widely, hugging each other by the sides. "The two and only!" They saluted. "And we don't need to be there to know he bloody deserved it and is playing up the whole thing," they laughed.
"You're two dim-witted gits, you know that don't you! Obviously, seeing as your robes are tainted with that disgusting hue of red, you're both Gryffindors. Your foul hatred for Malfoy is blinding you," I exclaimed. Their smiles dropped, and they looked at each other, then shook their heads. My anger subsided seeing this.
"You're the one that's blinded," they said in unison.
"I beg your pardon?"
"You're a Slytherin." They pointed at my robes.
I glanced down at my uniform and peered back up at them. "And? How does that make me the one who's blind?"
"You Slytherins know nothing but to follow your Slytherin Prince unto the ends of the Earth," one sneered, the group behind them nodding in agreement.
I was seething with anger once again. "Your stupid prejudice against Slytherins is sickening," I huffed, turning on my heels and stormed off.
I made my way to a small enclosed part of the courtyard, which offered some reprieve from all the commotion — outside and inside my head. The area was beautiful and calm, precisely what I needed. The section had no roof or complete walls, allowing the sun to shine strongly through the creeping vines and cracked stonework.
I wandered into the middle of the space, set my bag down, and sat cross-legged on the cold stone-flooring. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and straightened my back. My exhale was low and slow, dropping my shoulders in tune. I leaned to the side, and with my eyes still closed, reached into my bag. I grabbed a pouch with a singular herb inside and repeated my slow, thoughtful breathing-pattern.
I set the pouch in front of me. I concentrated all my energy into feeling every inch of my body with my mind. Slowly, I visualised my entire entity from head to toe, reconstructing myself in a form without negative toxicities flowing through me. Echoing the process, I reached for another pouch. I went through six herbs. I felt calmed, nearly numb to all around me, all troubling me, yet still. A slight smile crept onto my lips. I felt at peace. All my worries left me in this sobering moment of meditation. I opened my eyes and looked down at the small pouch in my hands.
Bark of a Whomping Willow?
I pulled my herbology book out of my bag and opened it up on my lap. I flipped through the pages to discover more about the qualities of the Whomping Willow:
Willow Bark comes from Salix offensatio, more commonly known as The Whomping Willow. It has been utilised for centuries as a pain reliever in Herbology and is most commonly used to reduce pain and fever. Willow bark does not present to have negative side effects if used in moderation. Some Herbologists debate on whether or not it is gentler on a patient's stomach than other herbs. Too much willow bark; however, can cause stomach cramping and bleeding.
I tapped my page in thought as to why willow bark would be the ingredient I would end on during meditation.
Pain? Pain? Pain…
Then it struck me! I hopped up from my spot and picked up my belongings, swinging my bag onto my back.
I entered the main corridor and took a turn for the dungeons. I shook my head, wondering if I should drop off my things in my dorm or not. Second-guessing myself, I stopped, turned, took a step, stopped, and turned again. Grunted and turned once more and stormed off in the opposite direction of the common room.
A way into my walk, I calmed into a normal walking pace, which was better for me in the long run. A few people along the way kept giving me odd looks, not that I could blame them, but it made me a touch insecure. Finally, I made it to my destination. I placed my hands on the rough wood of the large doors and gently pushed them open. I stuck my head into the room and caught the eye of Madam Pomfrey. She hurried over to me. Curiosity was plastered all over her face.
"Why are you here, Miss Y/L/N? Are you ill?" she inquired in a hushed tone.
"No, I—," I started, but Madam Pomfrey hushed me. Nodding, I mouthed, "Sorry. I was wondering if I could speak with Malfoy?" still keeping my soft tone.
Madam Pomfrey gave me an odd expression. She turned her crane-like neck to look at the boy, but turned back to me with a look of disapproval. "He's resting, can you come back later?"
I glanced down with a bit of disappointment filling me. Then a thought hit me. "I only need to give him a small little thing. I'll be quick." I assured her, looking her in the eyes.
"I'll give it to him, hand it over," she stated, outstretching her hand.
I shook my head. "You misunderstand, Madam. I have yet to get it ready."
She let out a small sigh. "Very well, Miss Y/L/N, be quick." She then moved out the way of the door.
With a quick smile, I nodded and made my way to the resting boy, which I swear I caught him moving. I ignored it and softly walked around to the other side of his cot and sat down in the visitor's seat. Slipping off my bag, I placed it on my lap and opened it. Out of my peripheral, I saw movement again as I looked down inside my bag to fish for what I was going to give him. I shot my head up to look at Malfoy, but he still laid asleep. I narrowed my eyes at the boy and tested a theory. Sitting very still and silent, I pulled out my wand and flicked it towards the door, softly closing them. I sat and watched the boy.
Not much as fifteen seconds later, Malfoy slowly opened up a single eye, as if it were a way to be inconspicuous. I dropped my head, eyeing him in disapproval.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're just bloody awful at being sneaky?" I laughed.
Malfoy quickly closed his eye and didn't respond.
"You're dead from the neck up, aren't you? Don't act like you're asleep, you ligger!" I huffed, crossing my arms.
Malfoy opened his eyes and looked at me extremely annoyed. "I'm no ligger, you're the cow that came stomping in here waking me up!" he retorted, but not in his usual healthy tone. He sounded terribly tired. He looked terribly tired, but not in a sleepy sort of way.
"Whatever, you weren't asleep to begin with, I saw you shuffling. You're not as slick as you think you are," I poked.
Malfoy rolled his eyes and let out a hoarse sigh. "What are you doing here? Don't you have class?"
"Actually, no. I have a free period right now. I've been thinking about filling it with Arithmancy, though. Also, I came to see how you were doing," I answered, sitting up in my chair to study him a bit. "How are you doing?" My brows knitted, examining his sickly pale green face.
Malfoy placed his uninjured hand at his side and attempted to push himself up into a sitting position. I watched him, debating if I should help. He didn't get very far, but he was no longer laying flat, and that seemed to be enough for him.
He glanced at me. "So," he began, using his free hand to adjust the sling digging into his thin neck. "Decided to take Arithmancy with me?" He asked, his signature smirk struggling to show itself.
I shook my head at him. "No. Not for you. And you're ignoring my question."
Malfoy's face dropped, if that was even possible in his present state. "I didn't know you were blind, Y/L/N. I would think it should go without saying," he sneered, his voice cracking every few words.
My neutral expression became one that could show a bit of worry. "How bad is it?" I asked, moving to sit at the edge of my seat.
Malfoy looked away from me. "Why do you care? I'm sure you'll just think I'm showing it up," he growled.
"Malfoy, have you forgotten? I was there. I know how badly you were hurt," I reminded him.
"Then if you know, why are you asking?"
I sighed. "Because, I would have thought Pomfrey would be able to do more for you. You look… awful," I stated, my voice going low at the end.
Malfoy stayed silent.
"So please, tell me how bad it is."
He groaned and waited a few seconds before he spoke. "The cut deeper further than just a flesh wound. It—," a cough interrupted him, "It lacerated the muscles. She was able to heal it… physically. Pathologically, however, the pain is still there." His long bony fingers playing with the sling band as he spoke. "Apparently, that bloody chicken is filthy too! Wretched creature's claws gave me a damned—" he coughed again, "a damned infection!" He dropped his head backwards in exhaustion.
I stood up and took a step towards the sickly boy. He flinched at my movement.
"What do you think you're doing, Y/L/N?" he asked.
"Oh, hold still," I demanded and gently placed the back of my hand on his clammy forehead. Malfoy's dull grey eyes were staring up at me. "You have a fever," I stated and turned around to pick up my bag, and rummaged through it.
"Okay? I have a fever. What are you doing? If it's such a problem, go tell the matron."
"If she hasn't done anything for you yet, then she has nothing more she can give. Magically, of course. However…" I trailed, finally grabbing onto the pouch I was looking for. "Ah-ha!" I cheered, holding up the bag.
"'However' what?" Malfoy quizzed, looking at me oddly.
"'However' I've recently come upon a certain ingredient that the professors themselves find to be too troublesome to keep in their stock," I answered, grinning as I opened the pouch and pulled out a strip of bark from the Whomping Willow. I put my hand out, showing it off with a lot of pride.
However, Malfoy eyed it as if it weren't that special. "And, what's that supposed to be? It doesn't seem the slightest bit extraordinary," he groaned.
I rolled my eyes and leaned towards him to whisper, "This," I shook the piece of husk, "Is the bark of a Whomping Willow!"
Malfoy's eyes were wide. "Whomping Willow? How in the—"
"It's a secret!" I cut him off and stood back up straight, with my finger on my lips. "Now, Malfoy, all you need to do is simply chew on it," I instructed, handing it to him.
"I'm not doing that! Knowing that cursed tree it might stab me in the tongue!"
"It won't hurt you! Just chew on it. It'll help, trust me."
Malfoy eyed the bit of bark and hesitantly took it in his hand. "And how do you know it'll help?"
"I'm quite knowledgeable in Herbology," I beamed. "I think it's exactly what you need. So, go on. Chew it."
Malfoy stuck it in his mouth reluctantly and chewed on it like a hay strand. "For how long?"
Before I could answer, Madam Pomfrey came rushing over to me and Malfoy. "Miss Y/L/N! You said quick. It's been ten minutes!" She huffed and turned to see her patient awake. She wasn't overly thrilled. "Miss—"
"It's fine," Malfoy chimed in. "I woke up when she sat down."
Madam Pomfrey eyed him disapprovingly. "Very well, Mr Malfoy, but—" she stopped, scuttling closer to him and saw the bark. "What is this? Is this… Willow Bark?" she questioned, furrowing her thin grey brows at the boy. "How did you obtain this?"
Malfoy was becoming annoyed and pointed at me with his thumb.
Madam Pomfrey turned to me in an urgent manner. "Miss Y/L/N! How in Godric's name did you get this?"
I got very tense, but being quick on my feet, I lied. "I brought it from my Auntie's."
Her stern eyes peered through mine. She most definitely saw straight through me. "Very well. Good thinking Miss Y/L/N. Very good." She turned back to look at Malfoy. "Chew on that until the pain subsides," she instructed and walked away to her desk.
I let out a heavy sigh of relief.
"That was a lie," Malfoy said bluntly. "Pretty sure she didn't believe it, but I'm still impressed by how quick your response was."
I shook my head and sat back down in the visitor's chair and put my bag in my lap.
"What are you possibly rummaging for now in that filthy bag of yours? You should really wash that rubbish. How'd you get branches and mud all in it?" Malfoy questioned as he watched me dig in my bag once again.
I peeked up from my bag, turning my head to the right and pointed to my cut cheek. "Unlike you, I didn't have a bit of a lie-in today. Had to leg it a bit earlier," I groaned, returning to my bag.
Malfoy stayed quiet.
I grabbed a small empty jar out of my bag and placed it on the bedside table, then pulled out a couple herbs and other ingredients.
"What on earth are you doing? This isn't potions class," Malfoy groaned.
"Oh, hush up will you. This isn't for a potion. Besides, I'm terrible at potions," I grumbled, popping the cork off the small vile. I shredded a couple flowers and broke some sprigs, placing them into the bottle and pushed the cork back in, giving it a shake. "Here," I said, tying a hemp cord around the neck of the vial and making the strands long enough to wear as a necklace if so desired. "This is also for you. It's a mixture of chamomile, passionflower, and rose petals. It'll help with whatever stresses you may encounter when you get back to classes. I'm sure you'll be behind, so just a precaution."
Malfoy took the bottle and looked at its contents. "How in the world is this supposed to work?" he questioned its potency.
"With faith and intention, of course. Not everything has to sparkle and fume."
"It's a lot cooler," he grumbled, gnawing down on the bark; I chose to ignore it. I closed my bag and stood up from my seat.
"Leaving?" Malfoy asked.
"Yes, I have to go talk to Professor Snape about joining Arithmancy," I answered. I smiled at the ailing boy in his cot and left his side.
