The Potions Mistress and the Sorcerer's Stone

Undilluted Bubotuber Pus

“Yeah, that would make sense. I think he hates you more than he hates Harry. No offense, mate.”

“None taken.” Harry said, helping me climb the staircase. I sighed.

“Well, obviously I’m going to be late for transfiguration, and that’s all that counts.” I had quickly discovered that my talents in transfiguration, history of magic, flying, and astronomy were not as profound as my talents in Defense against the Dark Arts, Charms, Herbology, and most notably, Potions. Although it was fascinating, transfiguration was incredibly hard for me to concentrate on. My wand movements were always too graceful. The grace helped me out a lot when I worked with Charms, but Transfiguration was more of a jabbing motion than a swish or flick. The fact that I would be missing quite a bit or all of McGonagall’s class frightened me; she gave out loads of homework and I had yet to fully turn my match into a needle.

“Harry and I will give you the notes if there are any, Aid.” I smiled weakly, the two now practically carrying me. “So what are you going to do tomorrow?” I grinned.

“Oh, who knows? Maybe I’ll slip a bit of undiluted bobotuber pus in his next brew; if it isn’t an Anti Acne potion, it will create a small explosion, or at least turn it the exact opposite color of what it should be.” Ron laughed as we finally made it to the hospital wing. I looked down, and most of my robes had been eaten away by the potions, as well as my socks. The potion had dripped off my skin, but it had left large, oozing sores that burned crimson red.

Yep, I was defiantly spending the next half of the day in the hospital wing.

~*~*~

“Snape found a firework in your cauldron.” Hermione said as I stiffly sat down at the dinner table. Not only had I missed transfiguration, I’d missed History of magic and Defense against the Dark Arts.

“So that’s why it exploded.” She nodded.

“Snape was furious, Adriana. You have no idea. He nearly gave both of our houses detention because of his favorite student.” Hermione said worriedly.

“How much did I miss?”

“It depends, what classes did you miss?”

“History, transfiguration, and defense.” She winced.

“See McGonagall first. She told me to tell you that you have to be able to change the match into a needle by next Monday or you’ll be failing her class.” I groaned, banging my head on the table. .

“Why me? I have to finish my essay for potions tonight, my essay for binns on Thursday, Friday I have set aside for my charm work, and on Saturday who knows what the hell I’ll be doing.”

“Language. And at least you can’t be tempted to dance right now, look at your legs!” my legs were bandaged from my big toe to mid-thigh, and although I was assured that the sores would get better, it was still extremely painful. And yes, I had told Hermione about my dancing after I’d been caught sneaking out of the common room.

“Oi, Campbell!” A voice sneered, and I turned around to glare at Malfoy. He laughed. “So you are alive? What a pity!”

“Shove off, Malfoy. That was your firework in my potion, wasn’t it?” he smirked.

“Of course.” I glared at him so hard he shrank back in his seat.

“You do realize I can barely walk, right? You could have disfigured me or worse, killed me!” I spat. “Do you have any idea what ingredients go into a filibuster firework? You were lucky that it turned to tar and exploded!” his smirk broadened.

“I’ll remember that for next time. But I doubt it will disfigure you. You couldn’t get any uglier if you tried.” Ouch.

“Go to hell, Malfoy.” I spat, my eyes filling with tears. I stood up.