I felt my eyes grow heavy as I rested my head on Harry's shoulder as we all watched for Lupin to join us for class.
"Blimey, why are you so tired?" Ron turned from the empty table before us, his stuff thrown to the other side where no one sat.
"Reading," I yawned out the words, leaving out the fact that I still knew nothing about my wand core after three years of having the thing.
Suddenly the door slammed to the wall, my body jumped in my seat and I sat up completely. I watched black robes glide across the floor and I felt my shoulders fall.
"What's Snape doing here?" Harry leaned over to whisper in my ear.
"I-" My words were cut off as Snape turned and gave each student a death glare before a projection of a creature appeared before us.
"Turn to page 394."
His monotone voice bought shivers up my spine, my hand gripping the book as I quickly searched for the page.
"Excuse me, where is Professor Lupin," Harry said beside me, most likely giving Snape a nasty glare as he always did. I turned slightly to Hannah who was whispering with Dean Thomas as they flipped to the said page number.
"That's not really your concern is it Mr. Potter," I looked to my left, watching as Snape looked to Harry with a nasty glare before he continued his walk to the back of the class. I looked back to the book and finally landed on page 394.
"Professor Lupin is incapable of teaching today," I let his words drown out as I looked at the page.
Werewolves?
"Well doesn't help me much," I heard Harry mutter to himself as he finally found the page of the book.
Ron looked back to us two, giving a slight glance at Hannah who was just as confused before his pages magically flipped to 394. I looked over my shoulder to see Snape lowering his wand for where he held it to Ron's book.
"Werewolves!" Ron yelped out as he turned to his book.
"Sir, we've just begun learning about red caps and hinkypunks," a familiar voice echoed off the walls of the class.
Hermione sat in the seat beside Ron, turning to look at Snape while most eyes sat on her with confusion.
"Where'd she come from?" Ron looked wide eyed at the once empty space, his eyes rolling when he heard Hannah laugh at him.
"We're not meant to start this section for weeks," Hermione continued on without worrying about Ron's comment.
"Quiet."
Hermione gave the professor one last glare before turning back to her own book and flipping to the page. Ron gave a gentle poke to her side which ended in a flick to the forehead.
"When did you last speak to Lupin?"
I looked at Harry, his face inches from mine as he whispered so softly I don't think Snape couldn't even hear.
"Last class, obviously."
Harry deflated, sinking into his seat and looking back to Snape who started across the floor.
"Now, who can tell me the difference between an animagus and a werewolf?"
Hermione hand shot up as normal, but Snape paid no mind to it and I suddenly felt my blood boil.
"Anyone? No?"
Hermione let her hand fall, giving the answer with a proud head held high.
"Sir, an animagus can shift at will but a werewolf has no control. A werewolf could kill his best friends under the right circumstances. To add the werewolf only responds to the call of it's own kind" Hermione finished, Ron watched the side of her face closely as she spoke.
Malfoy gave a loud howled that echoed off the walls, but no one paid much mind as Snape turned to look at Hermione with a cold glare.
"This is the second time you have spoken out of term Granger, are you incapable of restraining yourself or you enjoy being an insufferable little know-it-all," Snape snapped back and I watched Hannah jump in her seat beside me but Dean held her robes now. I felt my finger dig into the wood of the desk, my knuckles white as I looked at the black haired man.
"Hey," Ron yelped out, ready to jump at Snape before Hermione gave him a pleading look.
"Five points from Gryffindor," he spoke calmly as he walked back to the front of the class.
"I want two rolls of parchment on werewolves-" Snape's voice drowned out as a small paper bird flew past my nose, brushing it lightly before it landed before Harry. Harry slowly grabbed the paper before he looked over my shoulder. I followed his eyes, looking at a smirking Malfoy as he gave a dramatic wave.
I looked back to Harry, leaning close enough to see the paper. Un-wrapping the paper was a moving drawing of what to be a game of Quidditch with Harry on his broom and Malfoy seemed to be hitting him.
"He's a horrible artist," I muttered abesntmidly while I looked at the stick figure drawing. Harry held back a small laugh and looked at me.
"He really is."