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After I had finally made it back to my common room (with no further unpleasant interruptions), I got dressed as well as I could, though lifting my arms above my head was so painful Cho had to help me slip my fitted charcoal sweater over my head. I opted for a pair of well-loved, loose black jeans that my sweater tucked into at the waist and sturdy black boots that Cho also had to help me put on. After we were both dressed, we sat on the big couch in front of the fire in the common room.
"I'm so happy you're alright, Lainy. I don't know what I would do if--" Cho stopped, her throat thick with tears.
My eyes widened and I grabbed her hand. "Don't be silly. You can't get rid of me that easily," I joked, though I understood why she was upset. I hadn't let myself think about what the reality of the situation could've been, about the fact that I could've easily joined the growing numbers of Hogwarts students that lost their lives playing a school sport.
She smiled, though her eyes still held tears. "I know, I know. We just were all so scared. I'm sorry I didn't come visit you last night, too."
I didn't even need a reason from her as to why she stayed away. I knew if she had been able to, she would've come.
Wouldn't she?
I just waved my hand, as if to say it was alright, and she leaned her head on my shoulder.
"I love you, Lainy."
"I love you, too. Even though I can hear your stomach rumbling all the way up here."
Cho smacked my knee, and we made our way down to the Great Hall for breakfast.
I hadn't seen Harry since the night before, and though I would never admit it, as we entered the hall, I glanced around to see if I could see his mop of jet-black hair sitting anywhere. My shoulders slumped slightly when I didn't spot him, but I followed Cho to where she found an open spot. We ate, talking quietly, and once we were finished, we spent the rest of the day lounging around in the soft green grass of the grounds.
Monday marked the first full week of classes, and I was already dreading my Potions lesson later with Slytherin. Luckily, Hermione and Harry had it with me as well, as so few people actually passed that portion of their O.W.L.s last year. My first few classes passed with ease, the workload already piling high, but it was nice to get back into the swing of things. Ron and I spent nearly all of McGonagall's class messing around, giggling as we saw the other students attempt to turn their cups into a variety of poorly misshapen ravens. After lunch, I made my way through the crowded hallways down to the dungeon, my unbound hair bouncing around me as I walked. By the time I finally pushed through all the people and got to the classroom, the only open seat was next to Malfoy, that foul git.
Harry and Hermione both looked up as I walked in, and they mouthed that they were sorry as I made my way to the back of the class to sit by Malfoy. I made a disgusted face, and Harry let out a laugh he tried to cover with a loud cough.
He looked at me with disdain as I set my bag down. "Piss off, moron. I don't want to deal with you today," He grumbled, looking rather annoyed.
"Likewise Malfoy, but it's the only seat left, so I guess you'll just have to act like a big boy and deal with it." I responded.
"If I had known I'd be stuck with you all term, I wouldn't have bothered saving your fucking life," Malfoy muttered under his breath, angrily taking out his parchment and jet-black quill, slamming them on the table. "What a fucking waste of my time."
I winced slightly at the sound, his words sinking in my gut. "Maybe you shouldn't have then, Malfoy," I shot back. "Grow up."
Harry looked over from two tables up and gave me an apologetic face. My heart fluttered at his messy hair and slightly crooked tie, and I just shook my head and gave him a small smile in return.
Professor Slughorn clapped his hands at the front of the room, and began talking. "Sixth year Potions! This will be your most difficult year yet, but it will be filled with more peculiar things than you have ever encountered before! I hope you've chosen your seats wisely, because the student you are sitting next to will be your partner for the remainder of the term."
He couldn't actually mean...
"Sir," Malfoy's voice started next to me, "There is no way I can put up with Adler's sorry attempts at potion-making until Christmas."
A few snickers sounded around the room, and my cheeks flushed a bright red.
"Ah, Mr. Malfoy. So like your father...Perhaps, if you don't think Adler's skills are up to snuff, you would be inclined to tutor her." Slughorn suggested, turning his attention back to the class.
"I don't need a tutor," I ground out, my teeth clenched.
"Like I could get anything through that thick skull of yours." Malfoy retorted, earning a snort from Zabini, who sat at the table to our right.
I was so angry I was shaking with adrenaline, so angry I could barely hear Slughorn as he told us what page our recipe for the Draught of Living Death was on, and what the prize was for perfecting it. Everyone else began rustling through the pages of their textbooks, and I tried to look at the table next to me to see where they were, but I couldn't make it out. Something hit my book, and its pages spun til they landed on the one outlining how to make the potion. Surprise bounced in my chest, and I looked around to see the culprit, but everyone was already starting on their assignment.
We began making the concoction, everyone so focused there was almost complete silence, the ambient sounds of dicing and stirring and pouring filling the air. Everything was going relatively well, until the Sopophorous bean slicing, which seemed to be nearly impossible. Some even began flying through the air as they slipped out from under the knife they were being cut with. My own shot from my knife, earning a vicious snicker from Malfoy and making me crouch down under my table when I saw a strong hand pluck it off the cobblestone floor. My eyes traveled up the arm til my eyes met Harry's face, who was holding another ingredient he had just retrieved from the storage room, and my heart sped up.
"Thanks, Potter," I grinned. "What would I ever do without you?" I teased as I stood up.
My back was pressed lightly against the cold edge of the hip-high table, and Harry moved forward until he was a breath away, his nose nearly touching mine. He reached around to place the Sopophorous bean back on my cutting board, and as he did, he leaned forward to whisper in my ear.
"Crush, don't cut. Just trust me." Harry's voice was low, smooth, the clean, spiced scent of his shampoo greeting my nose. Panic filled my senses with him so close, my body freezing up.
I didn't trust my voice, so I just nodded softly, and he pulled back, a small grin teasing the corners of his mouth. "Good luck, Elaine." I watched him retreat to his table before unfreezing. Luckily, everyone was so preoccupied with their potions that no one had noticed our exchange. Besides, of course--
"I'm going to be sick," Malfoy deadpanned, still looking at his bubbling cauldron.
"Mind your business." I shot back, though my retort lost much of its fire due to the crimson coloring my face. I placed my knife back over the bean, but pressed down with the flat side of the blade instead. The juice instantly appeared, and I smiled proudly as I dropped it in, the liquid in my cauldron turning a lovely shade of purple.
"Three minutes, class!" Slughorn announced from behind his copy of the Daily Prophet . Low murmurs of complaints and swears danced around the class, but I felt calm. I began my seven counterclockwise stirs, and as I had almost finished the 7th rotation, Malfoy's sharp elbow bumped my arm, making my spoon return clockwise. Slughorn was making his way around to check everyone's progress, and just as I began to snap at Malfoy for once again being a bastard, Slughorn clapped his meaty hands in excitement.
"I don't believe it! Ms. Adler's done it!"
The class halted their movements as Slughorn dragged me to the front of the class. "As promised, here is one vial of Liquid Luck!"
I smiled nervously as he handed it to me, just as surprised as everyone else seemed to be. Hermione, her hair frizzy and her eyes still a bit wild, looked at me proudly and Harry gave me a small thumbs up.
Class ended, and everyone began packing their things, some of them throwing dirty glances my way, and I couldn't blame them. I didn't even know why mine had been the only successful one. Malfoy seemed to be in a mood even sourer than normal, his light brows furrowed with frustration as he stuffed his belongings in his pristine black bag. I was worried that this would make me an even bigger target for him as I walked out of the room, but soon my anxiety was erased as both Harry and Hermione greeted me outside the door.
Hermione had just started to congratulate me, but Harry swept me up in a giant hug, lifting me so the tips of my shoes barely brushed the stone floor. His hands gripped my lower back, the muscles in his arms shifting with every movement, and I could feel my entire body heating up with a mixture of panic and excitement and I couldn't tell which dominated. After a few moments, Harry let me down, my body sliding ever so lightly against his as he set me back on my feet. With his hands still at my lower back, our eyes met, and I could've sworn we were the only people in the room. His touch sent electricity up my spine, and I was suddenly incredibly aware of just exactly how my body had changed over the summer. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Hermione shifting uncomfortably, so I cleared my throat and quickly stepped back.
Harry scratched the back of his head nervously. "Well done, mate. I don't think anyone's ever seen Slughorn so excited."
Hermione nodded her agreement. "I'm incredibly impressed! Not that I didn't think you couldn't do it, but even Harry and I had issues and..."
Hermione continued rambling as we started our trek up from the dungeon, complaining that the book didn't give specific enough instructions about this, or that it didn't outline clearly how to do that. I glanced over at Harry to see him already looking at me, and I quickly looked away, but not before I noticed the soft smile in his green eyes.
We said goodbye to Hermione once we reached the ground floor of the castle as she wanted to go look something up in the library about the potion we had just made. She threw me a look that I couldn't really decipher as she left. Potions had been our last class of the day, so Harry and I made our way to dinner.
"You know, I wouldn't have won without your tip," I told Harry as we walked the empty corridors, the autumn sun casting an orange glow through the glass windows.
"It was mostly you, I just helped you out a bit," Harry shrugged. "Besides, seeing Malfoy lose in anything is my dream come true. Someone needs to knock him down a peg or two."
Snorting, I nodded my head. "What an entitled bastard," I agreed. "Hermione isn't going to let this go until she does it perfectly, is she?"
"No, no, she isn't." Harry stopped in a little alcove we had been walking by, sitting on the bench and patting the seat next to him.
I sat myself beside him, the cold of the bench seeping through my robes, and I began picking at my robes to release some of the nervous energy flooding my brain.
Harry looked at me intently. "Are you okay? I mean, after what happened on Saturday. That was..." he took a deep breath, as if to steady himself. "That was really scary."
Butterflies erupted in my stomach as the thought of him worrying about me hit me. Of course he worries about you, he's one of your closest friends, my mind fired back. I was foolish to hope, but maybe it had been in a not so friendly way.
You're delusional, Elaine.
I shrugged. "You know me, I always get up after getting knocked down. I'm used to it by now." My words were casual, but my tone was anything but as I glanced down at the pink line running down my forearm.
Harry noticed my gaze, and he reached out, swiping his thumb once, twice, over it before moving down to grab my hand in his. I was sure my hand was unpleasantly warm, possibly a bit sweaty, but Harry didn't seem to mind.
I fought the urge to pull away; not because I minded his touch, but because being so close with a boy sent signals firing in my brain saying, Run, run, get away.
"That's new, isn't it?" His voice was so soft I could barely hear him over the wind that had begun beating the castle walls.
Again I shrugged. "It's fine." I didn't trust myself to say anything beyond that, though I'm sure he already knew where it was from; that every time I looked at it I could smell the cheap whiskey, the even cheaper cigarettes.
Harry turned his body so he was facing me, his strong legs straddling the bench, and I turned as well, leaving my legs in front of me. I didn't even realize he had lifted his hand until I felt his finger brush my cheek, but instead of dropping his hand back down, Harry kept it splayed on my cheek and I felt like I could barely breathe. My heartbeat was drumming in my ears and I was positive Harry could hear it trying to escape my chest. He leaned forward, so close that I could see the small bits of stubble that were peaking out on his chin and his jaw. My eyes searched his, and now we were both leaning in and the wind was howling and my heart was racing and I could feel his breath and I sat there frozen, waiting, waiting, waiting.