Magic? || Years 5-7

Playing the Victim: Year 5

Amisty stared down at her cauldron, faintly miserable. It wasn't horrible, but it was far from perfect either. This time last year she might've looked up for help from a certain blond Slytherin but... well... that wasn't going to happen.

"It's almost there, Am," Hermione reassured softly, discreetly slipping a tad bit more griffin claw to her cauldron. "You're getting distracted and making tiny mistakes."

"I wonder why?" Amisty muttered under her breath bitterly, her mind very firmly fixed on her knife as she rather violently chopped up her ingredients.

"Slices, not mutilated," Hermione placed a hand over hers gently, a trace of amusement in her voice.

"Oh, shush," Amisty managed a tiny grin.

A few moments later, Umbridge got up to speak to Snape, who was leaning down over Dean's potion.

"Well, the class seems fairly advanced for their level. Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer it if that was removed from the syllabus."

It took much of Amisty's self-control not to roll her eyes. Snape straightened, his eyes narrowed.

"Now... how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?"

"Fourteen years," Snape replied smoothly, eyes glittering dangerously.

"You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?" Umbridge asked, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

"Yes," Snape nodded curtly.

"But you were unsuccessful?"

Amisty almost snorted.

"Obviously."

Umbridge scribbled down a note, "And you have applied regularly for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?"

"I suggest you ask him."

"Oh I shall."

"I suppose this is relevant?"

"Oh yes. Yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers' -- er -- backgrounds..."

She flounced away to go interrogate Pansy.

-=+=-

Amisty was five steps outside the Potions classroom, headed toward the Great Hall for lunch, when an arm seized her around the waist and dragged her into an empty classroom.

"Eli what in Merlin's name are -- " She began, laughing slightly before her smile slipped right off her face. "No."

Draco was watching her, his mouth closed but eyes regarding and searching, "Eli? Eli Minton?"

"None of your business," Amisty almost spat. "I'm leaving -- "

"Amisty -- "

"I think I've made myself perfectly clear about how I feel about you."

"Your friend Eli seems to think otherwise, considering the conversation I had with him yesterday."

"You don't seem to be on the copse of an apology."

"Because, quite frankly, I don't believe you deserve one."

That was a bit of a shock.

"Excuse me?" Amisty spluttered, trying to wrap her mind around what she had done. "I didn't insult someone's family!"