you raise me up || harry potter (revamped)

Chapter 6: Grinches and Grindylows

Professor Snape' classes as usual were a miserable affair, made more so by the extreme chill down in the dungeous. As the weather grew frostier, so did he.

"Figures that Snape is a real Grinch," Harry commented to Draco as they hurried to Potions, blowing on their hands to keep them warm. Neither of them had quite gotten the hang of the hand-warming charm Flitwick had taught them the day prior.

"What in the world is a Grinch?" Draco asked.

Harry opened his mouth to tell him, but he could already feel Snape's glower from down the hallway. "Er... I'll tell you after class."

Draco's elation over Slytherin's win manifested itself in interesting ways. "Make way for the Slytherin Seeker," he announced as he ushered Harry through the door of the classroom. Harry furtively shushed him, but it was too late; Snape's glower intensified two-fold. Harry usually didn't mind Draco's antics as long as the spotlight stayed on him—Draco did enough swaggering for the both of them—but all the attention Draco was directing toward Harry seemed to make Snape crankier and reinforce his already firmly-held believe that Harry was some huge egomaniac. If it kept Draco's jealousy over Harry being the Slytherin Seeker at bay, though, maybe it was worth it.

Eventually, Draco got tired of telling anyone who would listen about how prodigious and unprecedented Harry's catch was and how impressive it was how he had stayed on his bucking broomstick, and instead turned his efforts to making snide remarks about various Gryffindors. Harry tried his best to tune it out, measuring out powdered spine of lionfish as he squinted at the board, not quite able to discern whether Snape had written three teaspoons or eight.

But the final straw came soon enough.

"I do feel so sorry," Draco said, not at all paying attention to the cauldron bubbling in front of him, "for all those people who wake up on Christmas morning to find no presents under their tree."

To his credit, Ron Weasley reddened, but said nothing as he continued to stir his potion.

"I mean, of course Father Christmas brings presents... I suppose babies still believe in him. I guess it's better to be under the impression that you've been bad than to realize your family is too poor to afford a single gift—"

"Draco!" Harry hissed in horror, nearly dropping the lionfish spine powder at the same time that Ron snatched up a container of pickled slugs. "What is wrong with you?"

Draco turned to Harry, chuckling. "Relax, Harry, loosen up."

Behind him, Hermione Granger was gripping Ron's wrist as he strained to chuck it at Draco's head.

"Can you stop being a total scumbag and help me with this potion?" Harry snapped.

Draco shrugged. "Fine. Merlin, why is there so much lionfish spine powder? You do realize we're only supposed to add three teaspoons?"

"Oh, I—"

"Are you so incapable of following directions?" came a sinister voice from above.

Harry gulped.

"Because even though you are, the homework I assigned a week ago should have enlightened you to the fact that anything greater than a one to five ratio of lionfish spine powder to crushed eye of newt would render your potion unstable and useless. Does that look like a one to five ratio to you, Potter?"

"No sir," Harry mumbled. Draco quietly measured out the correct amount, hurriedly dumping it into the cauldron without looking at Snape.

"Furthermore, I was considerate enough to not make you calculate what a one to five ratio is when fifteen teaspoons of eye of newt is required, given that you dunderheads are hopeless at basic arithmetic. And you still find a way to blunder your way into a mistake."