Good Enough | hp

38| A Conversation With A Friend

He looked around at Hermione and Ron.

"Harry?"

"Nothing," he said quickly. "He's probably just worried about us."

Estella peered at him through the gloom. "He only spoke to you."

"It doesn't matter Estie," Hermione cut in. "We just won't be able to visit Hagrid anytime soon."

Estella pursed her lips into a thin line. "So we're doing this again, are we? The 'let's not tell Estella anything because she doesn't deserve or need to know'."

They all avoided her eyes.

Estella squeezed her eyes shut for a brief second and clenched and unclenched her fists. Her voice came out steely, yet she could feel herself shake as she spoke. "Fine. I see. Just don't do anything stupid. We don't want a repeat of last year."

✰♪

Malfoy didn't reappear in classes until late on Thursday morning when the Slytherins and Gryffindors were halfway through double Potions.

He swaggered into the dungeon, his right arm covered in bandages and bound up in a sling, acting as though he was the heroic survivor of some kind of dreadful battle.

"How is it, Draco?" simpered Pansy. "Does it hurt much?"

"Yeah," said Malfoy, putting on a brave sort of grimace. But Estella saw him wink at Crabbe and Goyle when Pansy had looked away.

"So dramatic," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Settle down, settle down," said Professor Snape idly.

They were making a new potion today, a Shrinking Solution. Amelia, as usual, was successfully following the instructions scribbled on the board; Larissa was struggling to sort out the Shrivelfig.

Estella tried to concentrate on her potion; Godric knew she didn't want to be the subject of another of Snape's judgemental glares or worse- his critisms.

It was very difficult though. Malfoy kept calling on Professor Snape, asking for help with cutting his daisy roots and such, and Snape kept appointing the tasks to Harry and Ron.

She sliced her caterpillars, trying not to grimace. She didn't know if she could ever get used to using bugs in her classes.

A few cauldrons down from her, Neville was in trouble. Neville regularly went to pieces in Potions lessons; it was his worst subject, and his great fear of Professor Snape made things ten times worse. 

His potion, which was supposed to be a bright, acid green, had turned-

"Orange, Longbottom?" said Snape, ladling some up and allowing it to splash back into the cauldron, so that everyone could see. "Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one rat spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?"

Neville was pink and trembling. He looked as though he was on the verge of tears.

"Please, sir," said Hermione, "please, I could help Neville put it right-"

"I don't remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger," said Snape coldly, and Hermione went as pink as Neville.

"She was only offering to help him learn which, you might recall is your job as the actual teacher here." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

Estella's eyes widened but it was too late.

"Five points from Gryffindor for talking back," Snape said.