When Hogwarts reopened its gates after the war, Draconia returned with silence as her only companion.
As she tries to gain his footing in the midst of the aftermath of war, with memories haunting her every step, and the Potter's obsession. She had t...
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Chapter 2
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Monday came quickly and it meant Potions practical and a due-in homework assignments. Draconia took the farther bench in the back, as usual, away from any Gryffindors or Slytherins alike. Slughorn rarely approached Draconia's table at the back of the Potion classroom. It suited Draconia fine, having suspected that Slughorn was more of a hindrance than a help. It was another thing; Slughorn won't even look at her anymore or any Slytherin, really. He thought they obviously weren't worth his time.
At these times, Draconia would miss Severus more than ever. Her godfather wouldn't have put up with this. He would have stood tall and proud by his students, supporting them any way he could. He would have never discarded a student, no matter what others thought. He would have protected her, scolding those of his house to stick together and be united in the face of people's anger.
But well, everything was different then.
Draconia sniffed quietly and took note to visit Snape's portrait to have a one-sided tea party before the Halloween's feast.
"Alright, alright. Settle down, everyone." Horace Slughorn's voice broke the tumult among the students gathered in the dungeons with a clap only for Potter to prust in, panting and flushed.
"Harry! A bit late, aren't we? Choose a potion partner for this brewing session, come on, come on! This applies to the rest of you people!" Slughorn paused, letting the students groan and complain for a few seconds before he clapped again, gaining their attention. "Dear students," The robust man begins, clasping pudgy hands together, "Today you will be paired to brew a Draught of Living Death! Yes, the success of this potion will in fact count towards your final!"
Well, that was easy; knowing she was the odd number left to finish the potion alone. Draconia shrugged mentally and toned the rest of the class out the moment she saw Granger's hand up in the air, asking useless questions about the history of some ingredients.
Draconia busied herself trying to light the cauldron only to jump half-foot in fright when someone dumped their bag loudly on the bench next to her. Draconia's face blanked fast when Potter's face was a few inches away from her own. He caught her eye and Draconia held her breath, absently relieved when the emotions from the last encounter were nowhere to be seen. Potter gave her a scowl and backed away slowly, however; his eyebrows were brought together unpleasantly and kept that way for most of their shared class. She bit her lip and fought the urge to wipe the expression from his face by doing something very immature, like kissing it away, instead; Draconia ignored his presence altogether and went to collect the necessary ingredients once she noticed that Slughorn had finished writing the usual instructions by a charmed white shulk.
When she came back, she found that Potter had cleared the table and purified the water inside the cauldron. Draconia merely sniffed at him and started working in silence, measuring out the exact amount of ingredients with a level of precision that would make her godfather proud. After putting all the ingredients in the cauldron, Draconia stirred the potions seven times clockwise and then anticlockwise. She allowed the potion to simmer until it turned purple while she diced the slug root instead of chopping it. 'If you can't be consistent with your sizing, then you're going to have an uneven brew.' Severus had said, when they used to spend summer holidays together before the war, holed up in his lab.
