After the events of the Care of Magical Creatures class, Draco hadn't returned to class until Thursday Since he was 'Mr. I-must-be-the-centre-of-everybody's-attention', he had been completely over exaggerating.
Even in Potions, he continued to whine and bathe in the sympathy he was receiving. Ariana and her friends occupied their usual table at the back of the dimly-lit, gloomy room. Each one of the four Gryffindors found Malfoy even more repugnant than usual, glaring daggers at the back of his irritating head.
"How is it, Draco?" simpered Pansy Parkinson. "Does it hurt much?"
"It comes and goes. Still, I consider myself lucky. According to Madam Pomfrey, another minute or two and I could've lost the arm," Draco recited dramatically, motioning to his right arm which was in a sling.
"The little git. He's really laying it on thick, isn't he?" Ron scoffed, turning back around to his friends.
"At least Hagrid didn't get acked," Harry favoureded, also turning back around to look at Hermione and Ariana, who were sat opposite him and Ron.
"Yes. But I hear Draco's father's furious. I don't think we've heard the end of this..." Hermione added.
"Where Draco and his father are concerned, we never hear the end of the situation," Ariana sighed.
"Settle down, settle down," said Professor Snape idly.
The white-haired witch spotted Harry and Ron scowled at each other, and she knew why: Snape wouldn't have said 'settle down' if they'd walked in late, he'd have given them detention. But Malfoy had always been able to get away with anything in Snape's classes; Snape was head of Slytherin House, and generally favored his own students above all others.
Much to Ariana's utter joy, they were making a new potion today, a Shrinking Solution. Malfoy set up his cauldron right next to Harry and Ron, so that they were preparing their ingredients on the same table as the quartet.
"Sir," Malfoy called, "Sir, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm -"
"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him," said Snape without looking up.
Ron went brick red. "There's nothing wrong with your arm," he hissed at Malfoy.
Malfoy smirked across the table. "Weasley, you heard Professor Snape; cut up these roots."
Ron grabbed his knife, slamming the blade into Malfoy's roots. By the time he was done, a pile of unequal, roughly chopped roots lay on the wooden board they had been placed on beforehand. His friends sympathise with him a great deal, though Ariana could of written what Malfoy was about to say before he said it.
"Professor," he drawled, "Weasley's mutilating my roots, sir."
At that point, the teenage witch felt the extreme urge to plant her fist in Malfoy's smug, annoying face. Unfortunately the repercussions weren't worth it... for now.
Snape approached their table, stared down his hooked nose at the roots, then gave Ron an unpleasant smile from beneath his long black hair. "Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley."
"But, sir -!"
Ron had spent the last quarter of an hour carefully slicing his own roots with care and precision, leaving a neat pile of roots lying on his spot on the desk. Apparently, all his work was about to pay off, but not for him.
"Now," said Snape in his most dangerous voice, which Ariana would of found amusing if she was in Ron's position, but clearly the redhead didn't feel the same way.
Ron frowned and shoved his own beautifully cut roots across the table at Malfoy, then took up the knife again.
"And, sir, I'll need this shrivelfig skinned," said Malfoy, his voice full of malicious laughter.
"Potter, you can skin Malfoy's shrivelfig," said Snape, giving Harry the look of loathing he always reserved just for him.
Ariana looked over at a furious Ron, who was trying his best to undo the damage he had done to the roots, then to Harry, who was viciously skinning a shrivelfig. Malfoy was truly a nasty piece of work, one she wanted to curse into oblivion most of the time. She took pity on Ron and helped him try to correct his roots, doing her best to make them somewhat better.
"Thanks," he said miserably, giving her an almost imperceivable smile.
"Seen your pal Hagrid lately?" Malfoy asked them quietly, smirking widely.
"None of your business," Ron growled jerkily, without looking up.
"I'm afraid he won't be a teacher much longer," said Malfoy in a tone of mock sorrow. "Father's not very happy about my injury -"
"Your pathetic 'injury' was healed by Madam Pomfrey within ten minutes of you receiving it," Ariana said in a low, threatening tone. "If you want, I can give you a real injury. One that won't be healed so quickly."
"You see, he's complained to the school governors. And to the Ministry of Magic. Father's got a lot of influence, you know. And a lasting injury like this -" he gave a huge, fake sigh "- who knows if my arm'll ever be the same again?"
"So that's why you're putting it on," said Harry, accidentally beheading a dead caterpillar because his hand was shaking with anger, "To try to get Hagrid fired."
"Well," said Malfoy, lowering his voice to a whisper, "partly, Potter. But there are other benefits too. Weasley, slice my caterpillars for me."
A few cauldrons away, 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 to splash back into the cauldron, so that everyone could see. Humiliating the Gruffindor students was something he done quite often, and it was usually Neville.
"Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one cat 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. "Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly."
Snape moved away, leaving Neville breathless with fear.
"Help me!" he moaned to Hermione, after seeing Ariana was preoccupied with a heated debate with Malfoy.
She turned around and saw Malfoy watching closely. "What is it now, Malfoy?" she said through gritted teeth.
But Malfoy's eyes were shining malevolently, and they were fixed Harry. He leaned across the table. "Thinking of trying to catch Black single-handed, Potter?"
"Yeah, that's right," said Harry offhandedly.
Malfoy's thin mouth was curving in a mean smile. "Of course, if it was me," he said quietly, "I'd have done something before now. I wouldn't be staying in school like a good boy, I'd be out there looking for him."
"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" said Ron roughly.
"Don't you know, Potter?" breathed Malfoy, his pale eyes narrowed.
"Know what?"
Malfoy let out a low, sneering laugh. "Maybe you'd rather not risk your neck," he said. "Want to leave it to the Dementors, do you? But if it was me, I'd want revenge. I'd hunt him down myself."
"What exactly are you talking about?" Ariana demanded lowly, her eyes flashing, which was always a bad sign for whoever was making her so pissed.
In the middle of their argument, Snape called, "You should have finished adding your ingredients by now; this potion needs to stew before it can be drunk, so clear away while it simmers and then we'll test Longbottom's..."
Crabbe and Goyle laughed openly, watching Neville sweat as he stirred his potion feverishly. Hermione was muttering instructions to him out of the corner of her mouth, so that Snape wouldn't see. Ariana, Harry and Ron packed away their unused ingredients and went to wash their hands and ladles in the stone basin in the corner.
"What did Malfoy mean?" Harry muttered to Ron as he stuck his hands under the icy jet that poured from the gargoyle's mouth "Why would I want revenge on Black? He hasn't done anything to me - yet."
"He's making it up," said Ron savagely. "He's trying to make you do something stupid..."
"What do you think, Ariana?" Harry asked.
Ariana paused, thinking for a moment. "I'm sure he's attempting to get your back up, Harry. We'll have to keep an eye the situation, I suppose," she said, though doubt was knawing at her; what if Malfoy did have more information on the subject?
The end of the lesson in sight, Snape strode over to Neville, who was cowering by his cauldron.
"Everyone gather 'round," said Snape, his black eyes glittering, "and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned."
The Gryffindors watched fearfully. Ariana studied the scene, watching everything that happened. The Slytherins looked excited. Snape picked up Trevor the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville's potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Trevor's throat. There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small pop, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape's palm.
The Gryffindors burst into applause. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown.
"Five points from Gryffindor," said Snape, which wiped the smiles from every face. "I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed."
~~~~~
"He's been sighted!" Seamus exclaimed, huddled over a copy of the Daily Prophet newspaper with other Gryffindors.
"Who?" Ron questioned.
"Look," Ariana whispered, pointing to the front page of the paper.
The chilling answer was displayed as a photograph: Sirius Black. He was in a cell at Azkaban, shouting madly as he gripped the bars. He had scraggy hair and beard, with horrid dark circles under his eyes. All in all, he looked completely deranged.
Hermione read over the others' shoulders and whispered to herself, "Achintee? That's not far from
here..."
"You don't think he'd come to Hogwarts, do you?" Neville enquired, his forehead creased with concern.
"With the Dementors at every
entrance?" Lavender asked, hoping someone was going to reassure her that it couldn't happen.
"Dementors? He's already slipped by them once, hasn't he? Who's to say he can't do it again?" Seamus pointed out, definitely not putting others at ease.
Ariana saw a flicker of fear pass through Harry's face and pity washed over her. She knew Harry was a good person with a caring heart; he did not deserve everything life threw at him.
Bem, a Nigerian boy, whom Ariana quite liked, spoke up next, "That's right. Black could be anywhere. It's like trying to catch smoke. Like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands," he stated grimly.
"We can't stop the inevitable," Ariana said. "If he does arrive, we will have to take it in our stride. Besides, Hogwarts is home to some of the most talented witches and wizards in the world, who are collectively well versed in all areas of magic."
This didn't seem to put many people at ease, but Ariana spoke her mind. It was true: the inevitable is unstoppable. She was also a big believer in fate, and knew that everything happened for a reason.
After dinner was over, everyone headed back to their respective common rooms. Harry, Ariana, Ron and Hermione sat on the sofa in front of the burning log fire. Ariana had her nose in a book about the theory of defensive magic; Ron was picking at a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans; Hermione also had her nose in a book, although hers was about Transfiguration and Harry was staring at the fire, watching the flames dance.
Ariana finished the two chapters she had been reading and closed the heavy book with a resounding SNAP. Harry's head snapped up when he head it, the loud noise pulling him from his previous thoughts.
"I think I'm going to go to bed," she sighed, standing up and spying that it was 23:47 and she usually awoke at 05:00.
"Yeah, me too," Ron grunted, standing up from his seated position.
Both Harry and Hermione got to their feet as well, stretching since they had been seated for quite a considerable length of time. They all bid each other goodnight and headed to their separate dormitories. Ariana set her book down on her bedside table, chatting to Hermione as she pulled out some nightclothes.
The dorms were lovely. Two large windows stretched from just above the floor to the ceiling, four-poster beds sat in the circular room with their headboards against the wall, and a reasonably sized furnace sat in the middle.
Ariana wore a black tank top and a grey pair of shorts, with her hair falling in an elegant white braid. The girls bid each other a goodnight and they slipped under their soft duvets. Ariana slipped her wand underneath her pillow, always keeping it there just in case she was to need it.
The girl soon fell into a torturous sleep, the horrors of her past replaying on loop as they did every other night.
~~~~~
Question:
Which of these subject would a first-year student NOT study?
A: Muggle Studies
B: Potions
C: Arithmancy