Once curfew arrived, we wrapped up our studying and went to sleep, preparing for the next day of classes.
"Lucas! Breakfast time!!"
I awoke to Val's yelling and felt him nudging me to get up so he could eat. I sighed and sat up as Val coiled around my arm. I went through my morning routine, appreciating the fact that each room had its own personal bathroom. 'A part of me was worried I might have to use communal bathing.'
After getting dressed and checking my schedule along with the map, I left my room. Taking my seat in the Great Hall, I watched as food appeared before my eyes. I dug in quickly, only glancing up when Pansy sat down beside me.
"Good morning."
"Morning."
We exchanged brief greetings and ate in comfortable silence until Draco joined us.
"I heard we have Herbology today," he said, watching my expression carefully, clearly hoping for a reaction.
I simply nodded, already aware of the class schedule, and placed my fork down before responding.
"Indeed. An interesting field of study. Very useful for potion-making."
Pansy added her own comment, piquing my interest.
"I've already done some reading on magical plants. It's a small hobby of mine."
That part caught me by surprise. I hadn't imagined Pansy would have an interest in something so similar to mine. 'I did notice she understood potion ingredients much faster than I grasped the properties of creature-based ones.'
Without realizing it, a small smile grew on my face as Draco and Pansy discussed what the class might entail.
When we arrived at Herbology, all the Slytherins sat on one side of the greenhouse while the Gryffindors sat on the other. Unfortunately for me, I ended up in the middle, with Pansy on one side and the untamable, brown-haired Gryffindor girl on the other. The only reason for this was my struggle to find a pair of gardening gloves and an apron, which made Pansy and me late to claim better seats. Thus, the only remaining spot for us was inconveniently near Hermione.
She frowned slightly at my arrival but remained silent, unwilling to cause a disruption in class.
At the front of the room, an older lady—the same one who had instructed us to retrieve our own apparel—waved her wand, levitating potted plants onto each table as she spoke.
"Now! Welcome to Herbology! My name is Professor Sprout!"
We all greeted her in unison as the plants settled onto our tables. However, one glance at the specimens before us made my stomach twist in disgust.
The plants had healthy green leaves near the soil, but the upper portion was ghastly. The main stalk was brown and covered in yellowish boils, reminiscent of severe acne.
Pansy let out a small chuckle as she tightened her dragon leather gloves.
"Too much for you?" she asked with a teasing smirk.
Her tone made Hermione glance at us sharply, misinterpreting Pansy's comment as an insult directed at her. However, her scowl quickly shifted to confusion when she caught sight of my slightly queasy expression.
I coughed and shook my head, frowning slightly.
"Of course not. I'm just unsure of what we need to do with these."
Just then, Professor Sprout announced the task, making my stomach twist further.
"Today, we will be collecting pus from these Bubotubers."
I bit my lower lip and exhaled slowly, trying to mask my revulsion, while Pansy clutched her stomach, barely suppressing her laughter at my expense.
"I'm sorry, the what?" a student asked hesitantly, raising his hand.
"Pus, Mr. Finnigan! Pus! It's extremely valuable, so don't waste it! It works wonders for even the worst acne when used properly!" Sprout bellowed, pointing to the plants and demonstrating the correct extraction technique.
A sudden realization struck me—I recognized this ingredient. It was in one of the potions my mother made me drink before I left for school. I even had a few vials of it tucked away in my trunk. A chill of revulsion washed over me at the thought of having consumed it. Yet, considering my clear skin, I couldn't deny its effectiveness.
We took glass vials and began following Sprout's instructions. I glanced at Pansy, noting her swift, confident movements as she expertly extracted the pus. When I turned to Hermione, I saw her working at a slower but steady pace, her determined expression revealing her focus.
I let out a quiet sigh before lowering my vial beneath one of the larger boils on the plant.
I tried not to dwell on the grotesque sight before me. Growing up in a privileged home, I had been spared such revolting experiences until now.
Once we finished, Sprout instructed us to remove our aprons and gloves and wash our hands. I scrubbed mine thoroughly, as did Draco. When our eyes met, we shared a brief nod of mutual understanding, silently acknowledging our shared misery.
Since I took longer than the others at the sink, the area was briefly unattended. Taking advantage of the moment, Val slithered out for a quick drink.
"This water tastes good!" he chirped, his tongue flicking happily.
I chuckled softly, grateful Pansy couldn't understand Parseltongue. After turning off the tap, my momentary good mood was dampened when Sprout handed us our vials of pus.
"You'll be keeping these, even if you don't want to!" she declared sternly. "People who discard them always come crawling back once they see how effective they are, and I don't like wasting time or resources!"
Despite my distaste, I had to concede her logic.
As Hermione walked to her next class, she smirked to herself, recalling the queasy expression on my face. My discomfort had spurred her on, motivating her to work faster and more efficiently. When she noticed me glancing in her direction, she saw the brief flicker of frustration in my eyes—a moment of perceived inferiority.
Just as she had hoped.
'You think you're above everyone because you're a "pureblood," but I'll prove I'm better than you. Starting here.'
With a subtle nod of determination, Hermione made a vow to herself, one she was determined to uphold.
Shaking off a small shiver, I turned to Pansy as we discussed the possibility of brewing potions together after obtaining ingredients from Professor Snape.
"Have you made potions before?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
I shook my head.
"No, but my father spends hours of his free time making and testing potions. I have a good understanding of how to mix ingredients."
'As well as the only magical beast books my father left behind after his culling were the ones that described using them for potion ingredients.'
Pansy nodded thoughtfully, then smiled coyly.
"Very well. But we'll use your ingredients first."
I scoffed in mock annoyance.
"Of course. Also, in my room so—"
I suddenly faltered, a memory flashing through my mind.
'No. It's not tonight. I have one more day.'
Pansy arched a curious brow, waiting for me to finish. I shook my head slightly, forcing the intrusive thoughts away.
"Sorry, I just remembered I have something tomorrow. I can help you with studies tonight, but I'll be busy tomorrow."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, suspicious.
"Please explain further."
I hesitated. My parents had always instructed me never to speak of my magical issues. Dumbledore was aware, of course, but only because my parents had informed him. If I told Pansy, I could be expelled.
"It's nothing important," I lied smoothly. "Just helping out around the school grounds for Dumbledore. Earning some house points."
Pansy hummed, unconvinced but not pushing further.
"That wasn't it! We got a special room to sleep in! I wonder if it has a pool I can use!" Val blurted out, making me inwardly curse his timing.
I sighed, shooting a glance at my sleeve, thankful once again that Pansy couldn't understand him. She snickered, amused by my exasperation.
By then, we had reached our next class. It was as dull as the previous history lesson—devoid of any magic whatsoever.
After the lecture, we headed to lunch. I quickly devoured my food, grabbed some extra for Val, and left the Great Hall.