Chapter One

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Bugger Off? Booger Off?



Séraphine scowled, picking the rounded leaves off the magical plant. If looks could kill, the plant would have withered into dust an hour ago.

"If you glare any harder, the bloody plant is going to catch fire." Sebastian griped, casting her a cold glance from atop his advanced potions book. She rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the Wizard seated across from her as she worked. It wasn't effective because he kept speaking, "That was a classic reference to the fact that Dittany is referred to as the 'Burning Bush' since it releases a flammable vapor."

She kept her focus on the task at hand: picking off the leaves to grind it down into a powder to use later. "There's a perfectly good library for you to bugger off in and leave me alone."

His lip curled up slightly, mirth pooling in his dark brown eyes, "Bugger off? Look at you, learning British swear words. What's the French equivalent?"

"Enculer, as in va te faire enculer, Sebastian." She snapped, ripping the last couple leaves from the plant before placing them in a stone mortar. He could fuck off for all she cared. He'd been an arsehole the last few months, making her feel guilty over what happened. As if she didn't blame herself enough.

Séraphine was perfectly suited to doing busy work alone. She thought that with the Sorting ceremony, he'd be busy thinking of new ways to bully the first years with Ominis. The Start of Term feast used to be his favorite time of the year. He used to find enjoyment in a lot of things before it happened. Now it seemed the only thing he found amusing was getting on her last nerve.

"Someone's in a bad mood." He quipped, licking the pad of his thumb before turning the page. "No one said you had to be grinding down Dittany during Supper. If you're hungry, eat."

He said that and yet the plate of steak and potatoes he'd brought her was half gone. It might have been a kind gesture except for the fact that he started eating it because he was bored and she was too busy preparing the Dittany for another healing potion.

In the dim lighting of the Potions classroom, Séraphine pursed her lips. She'd forgotten again to grab a ribbon to tie up her hair up. It was so blonde, it might as well have been white. It'd previously fell to her hips, but Anne convinced her to chop it during the summer, and now a few layers fell forward past her shoulders-getting into her face as she used the pestle to grind the magical leaves down.

Sebastian placed the book down, tugging his white sleeve back, and revealing his muscular forearm. Something shiny caught her eye that was wrapped around his wrist. "Missing something?"

She raised an eyebrow, watching as he untied the blue ribbon with gold lace accents. He held it out to her wordlessly. "Why were you carrying that around?"

"It fell out of your hair when you left in a hurry for Herbology earlier." He replied dryly as she took it from him. "Maybe if you paid more attention, you wouldn't have screwed up the last couple healing potions."

She gritted her teeth, feeling his eyes on her as she aggressively ran the pestle in a circular motion, turning the fresh leaves in more of a paste than powder. Once she realized what she forgot to do, Séraphine wanted to bang her head against the desk. A string of French curse words escaped her mouth crudely. She used to be polite.

"What?" He leaned on his forearms to take a closer peek at what was in the bowl, "I thought it was supposed to be a powder?" It clicked and he scoffed, "You used fresh leaves instead of dried ones. Aren't you Ravenclaw's supposed to be smart?"

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