The Sun, Moon & Stars

33. Boggarts

'You are?' Draco blinked.

'No, that's disgusting. He's practically my brother. Same with Ron, before you insinuate something.' Ophelia said, as she continuously stirred the potion.

'It's obvious Weasley's into the mudblood anyway.' Draco added.

'You're a complete jerk, you know that right?' Ophelia accused, 'you have no business calling people that. It's a hateful and horrible word—and if you and your precious father didn't have everybody here wrapped around your finger you'd be expelled for saying that.'

'Like you actually care what I say.' Draco snorted.

'I care when it's about my friend, and especially if it's hateful.' Ophelia said firmly.

'You love me.' Draco mocked.

'I hate you.'

'Thought you said strongly dislike?' Draco teased sarcastically.

'Yeah well, you've just upgraded yourself to hate.' Ophelia responded coldly.

'As if I care.'

'If you don't care, why are you so insistent on talking to me? I didn't ask for any assistance from you, yet you keep nagging me.' Ophelia snapped.

Draco frowned.

'We're not so different, me and you.' Draco observed.

'We're polar opposites.' Ophelia said harshly.

'How so?'

'For one, I'm not spoiled, arrogant and self-absorbed. I care about people—not call them hateful names.'

'You care too much about people.' Draco said firmly.

'Maybe so, but it's better than not caring at all.' Ophelia noted.

With one last stir, Ophelia set the stirring stick down. 'There's a big between you and I, Malfoy. Everybody here might get along with you if you tried to be nice, but you don't. You don't put in the effort, you assume everybody will hate you and therefore you are mean and cruel to everybody around you.'

'And you call this being nice, Lupin?' Draco snorted.

'I am helping you with a potion because you're faking being in pain; despite you calling my friend a hateful slur and making Harry's life hell. Yeah, I'd call this being nice.' Ophelia said aggressively.

Draco didn't answer.

'The potions done. You can take all the credit, Snape will surely give it to you anyway.' And she left without another word

...

Their first Defence Against the Dark Arts class wasn't until later that afternoon. Ophelia was easily excited for this one the most—her Dad was teaching it of course. The third year Gryffindors were already at their seats; with books, parchment and quills out when Remus Lupin entered the classroom. He smiled vaguely at the sight of them all ready and eager; as he strode down the aisle silently to place his old leather briefcase on his desk.

He looked healthier than he had when Ophelia had saw him the day before. The effects of the full moon were beginning to wear off, and his scars didn't look so bad—his face had gained more colour, and his walk was more peppy than slouchy.

'Good afternoon.' He smiled, as he turned to face the class. 'If you would please put your equipment away, with the exception of your wand, that would be lovely. Today will be a practical lesson.' His eyes twinkled and lingered at Ophelia for a few extra moments.