Thanks guys for the favourites and follows! They're much appreciated, as are the lovey and constructive reviews. This chapter is even shorter but more seems to happen…let's call it a more condensed form of writing.
Chapter 4
"….to conclude, no one really does know the function of a rubber duck." finishes Charity Burbage and with a flourish of her wand, the rubber duck floating in the bathtub she has set up in the middle of the classroom multiplies into 30 more. "Your task," she says, "is to write a 30-inch essay on the history of flotation, to be handed in to me next lesson. Class dismissed."
Malfoy is out of his seat before I can even begin packing my own bag, and he swipes a duck from the bathtub as he storms from the room. His chair has been pushed as far away from my own as the table will let him all throughout the lesson, as if putting physical distance between us will cause our predicament to no longer exist. It's a futile effort, as our timetables are identical and he knows as well as I that Dumbledore might dole out more punishment if we choose to disobey him. I rush out of the classroom to ensure Malfoy doesn't put his short term hate over the long term punishment but as I rush from the door I collide with Ginny, who appears to have glued herself to a certain Seamus Finnigan. I feel the monster that seems to now permanently reside in my stomach growl, and after the mess of the last two days I feel I'd like nothing more than to punch him in the face. My hand inches towards my wand, but before I can do anything Seamus coughs, and from his mouth comes a tiny rubber duck. He coughs again, almost choking as another forces his way from his throat. It hits the floor with a squeak. His face reddens, and with a cough he races down the corridor, ducks falling from his mouth more and more frequently as he careens in the general direction of the hospital wing. When I look around to see who cast the spell, I spot Malfoy very surreptitiously slipping something small and yellow into his pocket. "Harry-" starts Ginny, but I'm already pushing past her, burning with curiosity as to why Malfoy would do such a thing for me.
I finally catch up to him, as his long legs seem to carry him down the hallway with much less effort than my own shorter ones. "Why?" is all I have to ask.
"Because," he starts, "there were Gryffindors kissing in my line of sight and I'd rather keep my breakfast." His tone seems to warn of no more conversation so for once I steer clear of the topic I'd most like to discuss.
"What have we got next, do you know?" I ask.
"Potions, with Slughorn." he replies.
Great. My first Potions class of the year without the help of The Half Blood Prince. This will be fun.