Albus Potters rather odd behavior didn't end with the one History of Magic lesson where he had shocked Scorpius, along with the other Gryffindors to be sure, by taking the perpetually vacant seat to Scorpius' left. To his absolute horror, Potter continued to silently occupy the seat beside Scorpius in every lesson excepting the ones they had with the Ravenclaws, where Potter was quite friendly with a red headed Ravenclaw that he thought was called Weasley. One might think that Scorpius would be grateful for the companionship, no matter how silent, but they would be quite wrong in that belief for a couple of reasons. Scorpius couldn't be sure what Potter meant by it all – they weren't mates; they weren't even really acquaintances. That left it open to the possibility that there was some kind of harm meant that he had yet to foresee. At the very least, it was most definitely distracting his studies. It wasn't as though Potter was loud while going about his business, in fact quite the opposite. The dark haired boy gave Scorpius the impression that he had never even raised his voice in all his life. It was more the strangeness of it all. If Potter had spoken to him even once, then Scorpius could assume that he either wanted to be friends – or wanted to look like he wanted to be friends at the very least. Then maybe there was some kind of practical joke coming his way, or possibly Potter would be getting an early run at becoming a prefect. Befriending the class outcast would look good in any teacher's book, Scorpius thought to himself touchily.
On more than one occasion Scorpius had decided he would just out Potter and make him answer for his actions, but every time the chair next to him scraped back, Scorpius kept his eyes on his desk and listened to the rustling of his neighbor pulling out parchment, quill, and textbook. It wasn't until double potions on Friday that any new developments occurred. The Gryffindor and Slytherin first years waited outside the large wooden door that would open up to their first ever potions lesson with an atmosphere of nervousness and tension hanging in the air, alongside the ever present chill of the dungeons. The nervousness mostly arose from the Gryffindor students, who had heard that the potions professor was the cruelest of all the professors at Hogwarts. She also acted as the Slytherin head of house, making things doubly bad for the young Gryffindors. She had been late to return for the new term for "unspecified reasons", but it seemed nobody around Hogwarts had really minded except for the Slytherins. The tension was semi-constant between the two opposing houses - no fights had yet broken out between the first years this term, but Scorpius doubted it would be much longer until someone snapped.
The large group of first years was completely silent, so it was easy to pick up the clicking of an approaching someone's shoes coming from deeper inside the bowls of the dungeons.
"I think she's coming!" Stacey Midgens, a Gryffindor girl, whispered to her blonde haired friend unnecessarily. A somewhat short woman that Scorpius recognized from the meals in the Great Hall was walking swiftly towards them, her eyes focused dispassionately somewhere over their heads. Robes rustled uneasily all around him as students seemed to move away from the approaching woman.
"If I ever arrive at this classroom again to find a crowd of foolish Gryffindors blocking the corridor, every single one of you will receive a detention. Form a line." The group of first years stared at her, a few of the Gryffindors looking affronted while most of the kids in the corridor just looked frightened. "A line! Now!" She snapped impatiently, and they all scrambled to line up against the somewhat damp stone wall. One of the Slytherin boys who's name Scorpius didn't know moved so fast to get in line that his head bounced hard against the corridor wall. The professor shot an annoyed glance at the boy before unlocking the door and striding into the potions classroom, heels still clicking. The students followed hesitantly, filing through the door one by one and settling themselves at tables together. Too late Scorpius realized his great misfortune. As he rounded the doorway and scanned the room he saw that as one of the last people to come through the door, there were only tables available in the very front of the room directly facing the fear-provoking witch they would call Professor. He was pausing a moment, attempting to ready himself for the guaranteed misery that awaited any Gryffindor that found themselves in front of Professor whoever, when someone called his name from the far end of the room. It was a quiet, purposeful voice that he'd scarcely heard before, but he knew to whom it would belong. Potter was sitting alone in the back corner, the only person who would have possibly called out to him. They looked at each other just for a moment and then Potter began to unpack his rucksack, letting Scorpius decide alone whether or not he would take the hand extended to him.
"Sit quickly, no dawdling!" The professor snapped, and Malfoy decided quickly not to look a gift horse in the mouth. He slid into the seat next to Potter, putting his bag and cauldron down a little too violently in his haste. Potter looked up, his startlingly green eyes wide with surprise.
"I uh… sorry." Malfoy mumbled embarrassedly, quickly unpacking his things and settling into his chair. Potter didn't respond, and they fell into their familiar silence. There were a few moments of parchment whispering against tables and chairs creaking as their hosts became comfortable – or as comfortable as anyone could be in the tense, damp atmosphere of the potions dungeon. The professor, her back towards the silent students, flicked her wand at the chalkboard situated at the front of the dungeon and almost immediately a chalk began to squeakily write out "Professor Parkinson". Professor Parkinson turned to glare at the class, her arms folded tightly across her chest.
"There will be no speaking out of turn. There will be no wasting my time with stupid questions. Everything you need will be here." she flicked her wand at a brown cabinet that swung open to show a plethora of different pieces of animals, as well as bugs, fungi, vials of a strange liquid that looked suspiciously like blood, and much more than Scorpius could spy from his table across the room.
"Here." At this flick, the chalk began to write furiously upon the board.
"And here." The last flick flipped all of their textbooks open at the same time to Chapter 1, on which there were detailed instructions on drafting a cure for boils. "Begin."
For once, the silence between Scorpius and Potter didn't stand out since nobody in the class dared even to breathe too loudly. After a trip to the ingredient cabinet, Scorpius started on his potion, trying to move carefully and slowly as to not make any mistakes. After close to an hour of work, while waiting for his potion to come to a boil, Scorpius noticed that Potter had already taken his cauldron off the fire and was adding his porcupine quills. Panicking for a moment that he had been too slow, Scorpius eyed the other students work and saw many were on the same step or hadn't even gotten so far as he had. He looked back at Potter, who was stirring his potion now while it turned a deep red. Potter was quite good at potions, Scorpius noted, glancing over at his tablemates work every couple of minutes. He was about to add his own porcupine quills when a hand shot out, blocking his cauldrons opening. He couldn't catch the confused noise that escaped him due to Potters sudden and surprising move.
"Take it off the fire, first." Potter said quietly, continuing with his almost completed potion. Scorpius looked back down at his instructions and saw that Potter was right, quickly taking his cauldron off the fire with a mixture of annoyance and gratitude. Before he could utter his thanks, the *click, click, click* of heeled shoes on the stone floor rang across the room and Professor Parkinson was in front of their table in an instant.
"What is your name." She questioned Potter sharply, but cut him off before he could respond. "Potter." Parkinson muttered darkly, her rather squashed nose wrinkling with distaste.
"Yes." Potter responded uneasily, looking up at her with apprehensive eyes. She glared down at him for a couple long moments before speaking.
"Do you think you are the professor, Potter?" She asked him disdainfully, laying a stubby, manicured hand on their table.
"No."
"And who is the professor, Potter?" She questioned.
"You are, professor." He responded impassively. Parkinson's dark eyes glittered with pleasure at her little game.
"That's correct, Potter. 10 points will be taken from Gryffindor house for hindering the education of a fellow student." There were some quiet gasps from the Gryffindor's around the room, and Scorpius could feel himself becoming somehow even more despised by his classmates. "And you will receive Saturday detention."
"He shouldn't get a detention for my mistake!" Scorpius insisted loudly, surprising both Potter and Scorpius himself. Professor Parkinson revolved slowly on the spot to look at him for the first time. Her eyes searched his face and seemed to find something that she despised.
"What was that you were saying?" There was something poisonous in her words, a slight hiss in her diction. Scorpius faltered, feeling very small all of the sudden. He could see some of the Slytherins leering at each other, clearly excited to witness firsthand the abuse that Parkinson was famous for. Scorpius took in a deep breath and steeled himself.
"It was my fault. Don't punish Potter, he was only trying to help." Parkinson's eyes bore into his but he refused to break contact with them. Scorpius refused to back down after already digging himself so deep a hole. Finally, she smirked rather horribly and tossed her dark hair back.
"Potter and Malfoy. A little dream team, to be sure." Parkinson laughed derisively at her words, then waved her wand over the boys and their table. Scorpius' potion that he had spent the better part of an hour and a half on disappeared, along with Potter's perfect concoction. Mouths agape, the two boys stared up at their professor with disbelief. "And that's a detention for you too, Mr. Malfoy." She practically spat his name out onto the floor. With a sweeping of her long purple robes, Professor Parkinson clicked back to her desk to ignore them once more.
Scorpius and Potter didn't dare speak for the rest of the class, and packed up quickly while the other students were corking their boil cures and bringing them nervously to the front. They left hastily, worried that Professor Parkinson might want to come back for a second round. Neither said a word until they were safely out of the dungeons and back in the sunlight filtering from the high arched windows of the first floor.
"That woman is an absolute nightmare." Potter said finally, breaking the long silence. For whatever reason, though the points were lost and the grade failed, at this Scorpius could not contain the grin that began to split his face. Potter glanced at him as Scorpius attempted to regain his composure, and a small smile flitted across his lips. He shrugged unapologetically. "Well she is."
The boys burst into laughter, giddy after escaping the fear that choked them while in the dungeon with Parkinson. They joked and complained all the way to the common room, eventually tiring of the subject and deciding to play a couple rounds of exploding snap.