Chapter 42: Chapter thirty nine

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The days had passed by in a haze, at least, for the most part. The Triwizard Tournament had everyone buzzing, but nothing exciting had actually happened yet.

Well, except for Draco's very public humiliation by the hands of professor Moody.

Moody had been demonstrating the Unforgivable Curses on a spider, throwing it at other students and creating a chaos. Draco had laughed, and the retired auror had flung the spider straight into his face.

Only Astoria had been there to witness it firsthand from Lyra's friendgroup, along side Crabbe and Goyle, but the story had spread like wildfire.

Daphne swore she'd never laughed harder. Theo had practically choked when Astoria first told them.

And now, three days later, he was still sulking about it.

"Moody's a lunatic," he grumbled at breakfast, stabbing aggressively at his eggs with his fork. "Shouldn't even be teaching here."

"Right," Theo drawled as he sipped on some ice tea. "Because throwing a spider in your face is the worst thing that's ever happened at Hogwarts."

Draco shot him a look. "He could've killed me!"

"Like how that hippogriff almost killed you?" Astoria teased with a sweet smile, sending him a quick wink.

"No, maybe not exactly like that, but he could've still hurt me." Draco defended with a grumpy face, looking down at his breakfast.

"With a spider?" Blaise snorted from across him, raising an eyebrow towards the blonde boy. "Tragic. Really. You're so brave for surviving."

Daphne chuckled by Blaise's comment, and smirked herself. "We should get you an order of merlin, first class."

"Go to hell, all of you," Draco muttered, shoving a piece of toast in his mouth, angrily chewing it.

Lyra grinned into her cup of tea. It was hilarious.

She wasn't particularly fond of the professor herself either, but seeing Draco being so dramatic about it made her tolerate the DADA teacher a bit more.

"Maybe you do deserve some kind of recognition. How did you make it through such a traumatic event?" She mused, smiling slyly at the blonde slytherin.

Draco scowled at her and rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up, Arakan." He scoffed as he took a bite out his eggs.

The group continued to eat in comfortable silence, exchanging a few words now and then. But as breakfast ended, it was time for her first period, which was potions.

Unlike everybody else it seemed, she actually liked Snape. The man wasn't nice, obviously, but he didn't bother her.

He knew about her parents of course, and never gave her extra trouble like other people did. Cough, cough, Fred Weasley.

Unfortunately though, she shared the class with Theo and the Weasley twins. She had nothing against Theo, but he'd always fall asleep during class, making him a kind of boring classmate.

The twins on the other hand, made everything the opposite of boring, but not in a good way. They always had some snarky, annoying comment towards Lyra up their sleeve.

'Let's just get this over with,'  Lyra thought to herself as she sighed and stood up, saying goodbye to all of her friends as she made her way down to the potions classroom.

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The hallways was already filled with the sharp scent of burnt something and crushed herbs and when Lyra entered.

And Theo who had entered before her, was half asleep at his desk as usual, resting his head on his arms, clearly uninterested in the world around him.

The Weasley twins, meanwhile, were seated at their table near the middle, already whispering about something that was bound to get them into trouble.

Lyra sighed, slipping into her seat next to Theo. "If you fall asleep like next time, and leave me to do all the work, I will hex you."

Theo didn't even bother to open his eyes as he responded. "Noted."

Lyra gave him a look as she sighed and sunk down in her seat, but before she could poke him further, the sound of heavy robes sweeping against the floor cut through the quiet hum of the dungeon.

Snape entered the room, dark eyes scanning over the students with his usual sharp, unimpressed expression.

"Today," he drawled, voice slow and measured, as he wrote on the blackboard, rather brutally, "we will be brewing Draught of Living Death."

Murmurs spread through the class. It was an intensely difficult potion, and even a minor mistake could ruin the entire thing.

This made Lyra smirked slightly from where she sat. 'Good' She thought. Something to keep her occupied.

Snape continued, voice low and commanding. "You will work in pairs. And if even one of you ruins your potion, I will not hesitate to give you both failing marks."

Lyra eyes immediately fell on Theo as Snape mentioned the words 'failing marks', and she nudged him roughly. "You hear that? Wake up."

Theo groaned but finally lifted his head, blinking sleepily up at her. "Yeah, yeah. We won't fail. You won't let us."

She rolled her eyes but didn't argue.

Around them, partners were forming, but Lyra was already set with Theo.

Until.

"Professor Snape," George Weasley's far too enthusiastic voice rang out, "I believe Theo's in no condition to brew a potion today, considering he just woke up and all." He snickered as he threw Lyra a small wink.

Lyra turned her head sharply towards the twins, who were sitting right beside her.

Fred and George were of course grinning, Fred a bit wider than the other. Snape took the bait, probably too tired to argue.

"Very well," he said smoothly. "Nott, partner with Abbot. Arakan, since you seem so determined to defend your friend's actions, you can work with Weasley."

Lyra's jaw clenched before the asked the questioned of the century.

"Which Weasley?" she asked slowly through gritted teeth, as if it made a difference to him.

Snape arched a brow, staring down at the girl with unpleasant eyes. "Does it matter?"

"Yeah," she answered instantly, nodding slightly.

He ignored her. "Fred."

Lyra shut her eyes for a brief second, inhaling sharply through her nose. Fred, meanwhile, looked far too amused as he watched Theo give her a sympathetic look as he got out of his seat.

Fred wasted no time when it came to sitting beside her. Lyra watched with annoyance as he slid down in Theo's previous seat.

"Chin up, Arakan," he said cheerfully. "We make a great team."

She scoffed loudly. "Do we?"

"Absolutely."

She exhaled sharply, flipping open her textbook. "Just.. Don't touch anything unless I say so."

Fred smirked. "Oh? Afraid I'll outshine you?"

"Afraid you'll kill us both," she muttered, scanning the instructions.

He chuckled, leaning back slightly. "Relax, I'll follow your lead. For now."

She shot him a look but said nothing.

For the next thirty minutes, they brewed in relative peace. Fred, surprisingly, didn't mess around too much, though he did hum annoyingly under his breath the entire time, which Lyra pointedly ignored.

Despite her clear and ongoing irritation at being paired with Fred Weasley, Lyra had to admit; they didn't work terribly together.

They worked in near-sync, though neither of them commented on it, and their brewing was surprisingly smooth.

She'd given him strict instructions; Don't touch anything unless I say so. And to her great surprise, Fred actually listened.

At first.

They had begun by preparing their ingredients. The Draught of Living Death was an incredibly complex potion, requiring absolute precision, and Lyra refused to be the idiot who melted a cauldron today.

Fred had been the one to collect the Valerian roots and sopophorous bean while she set up the cauldron and measured out the water.

She quickly ground her roots into a fine powder and poured it into a small cup, her movements fast and efficient from years of practice.

Meanwhile, Fred stared at the slimy sopophorous bean, which had already been soaked in one hour, like it had personally offended him.

"...And how exactly am I supposed to juice this thing?" he asked, holding it up between two fingers and showing it to her.

"Crush it with the flat side of the blade," Lyra said without even looking at him, already working on the next step.

Fred raised a brow, and chuckled lightly. "That's how you juice it? It specifically says cut."

"Yes, Weasley, unless you'd like to cut it and send it flying off somewhere. Just, trust me." She sighed, looking at him with a hint of defeat in her eyes.

Her father had learnt her this trick, and right now it came in quite handy.

Fred scoffed. "Alright, no need to insult my intelligence. I do brew things, you know."

Her eyes trailed the words of the book in front of her before she shot him a look. "You brew things that explode."

"Exactly. It takes skill."

"Recklessness," she corrected smoothly.

He smirked but said nothing, simply raising his knife before slamming it down onto the bean. A wet squish sounded as the juice oozed out.

"Like that?" he asked.

She glanced over, nodding slowly. "Yeah like that. Now measure it. Precisely five milliliters."

Fred rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. "Yes, Professor Arakan." He murmured as he got the measuring cup.

She ignored his remark and focused on heating the water to a simmer. Once it reached the correct temperature, she began adding the ingredients in a slow rhythm.

The essence of a wormtail, then the valerian root, followed by a slow pour of the sopophorous juice, which immediately darkened the mixture to a deep purple.

Fred watched, head tilted slightly. "How the hell do you do all this so quickly?"

Lyra didn't look up, but a small tug could be seen on the corner of her lips. "Practice."

He hummed, and even smiled some himself. "Snape's golden student, huh?" He teased as he leaned over the cauldron, watching it intensely.

She rolled her eyes. "You make that sound like an insult."

"It's a compliment actually. He doesn't quite get along with students well." He said with a teasing tone, but there was a hint of genuine in his voice.

She exhaled sharply, stirring the potion clockwise exactly seven times before motioning for him to pass her the powdered root of asphodel.

Just as Fred handed her the cup of the asphodel, their fingers brushed, only lighty. But before she could pull away, she felt it.

He wouldn't let go.

Lyra stilled, her grip tightening instinctively around the small cup. Her eyes flicked up, sharp and questioning, but Fred didn't release his hold.

Instead, he just looked at her.

Not with his usual smug amusement, not with his teasing grin, but with something quieter, something unreadable.

The moment stretched between them, suspended in the air like a delicate thread, ready to snap. Lyra's pulse quickened. Not out of nervousness, obviously. Out of irritation.

"Let go, Weasley," she said sternly, her bottom lip twitching slightly.

He tilted his head slightly, his grip remaining firm. "Why?" He asked with a small smirk, raising an expectant eyebrow at her.

Her brows furrowed in irritation. "Are you seriously trying to play some weird power game with me in the middle of brewing a deadly potion?"

His lips quirked up just slightly, but there was a flicker of something else in his expression. "Maybe I just like pissing you off."

"Well, congratulations, you're excellent at it," she deadpanned, giving the cup a sharp tug, but it was to no help.

His thumb shifted slightly over her knuckle, and her breath hitched, just barely, just enough for her to notice, but she knew he caught it too.

The smirk that followed made her want to break his stupid nose.

Instead, she successfully jerked the cup out of his grasp, shooting him a glare before immediately turning back to the cauldron.

"Focus, Weasley, before I accidentally throw you in the bloody potion."

"Relax, I was only messing with you, and besides."

Fred chuckled under his breath, leaning back in his chair lazily. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're flustered, Arakan."

She rolled her eyes by his accusation, but still she refused to look at him. "And if I didn't know any better, I'd say you have a death wish."

He laughed, but there was something softer in it now.

Still, Lyra forced her attention back to the potion, stirring precisely, ignoring the warmth lingering on her fingers.

Fred might play his little games, but she wasn't playing along.

She poured the root from the cup and into the pot,  watching as the mixture turned a ghostly silver, just as it should.

Fred let out a low, long whistle. "Damn. And here I thought Potions was just throwing things in a cauldron and hoping for the best. There's actually a strategy to this."

Lyra gave him a deadpan stare, but a faint tug on her lips made him tense up. "And that's why you need me to stop you from killing yourself."

Fred composed himself and grinned, resting his face against the palm of his hand as he stared at her with narrowed eyes. "Don't pretend you'd actually let me die, Arakan."

She scowled. "You're right, I'd make sure you lived just so you'd suffer longer, then let you die."

He chuckled sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Now that's the Slytherin spirit."

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They continued working in an oddly synchronised rhythm. Despite their constant back-and-forth, Fred actually followed her instructions without question, handing her the exact ingredients she needed before she even had to ask.

By the time they added the final component the potion had taken on the desired pearly, almost ethereal quality.

Lyra eyed it critically.

"Well?" Fred prompted. "Did we actually succeed?"

She exhaled slowly. "It's done."

Fred grinned. "And we didn't even melt the cauldron. A miracle, truly. Better than last time."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't entirely suppress the slight tug at the corner of her lips, and for a fleeting moment they weren't 'Slytherin and Gryffindor'.

They weren't rivals. They were just two sixteen year old students, working side by side.

Then Fred had to ruin it. Of course.

"You know," he mused, leaning back slightly, "we actually make a decent team."

Lyra scoffed, grabbing the cauldron. "Don't get used to it, Weasley."

Fred chuckled, clearly unbothered by her dismissal. "Oh, but I am getting used to it, Arakan," he said, watching as she carefully poured a sample of their potion into a glass vial.

"And I have to say, it's really growing on me." He said with a slow, smooth voice, nodding with each word.

Lyra didn't bother looking up at him as she answered, "Pity. It's not mutual."

"Now, there's no need to deny it," Fred teased, propping his chin on his hand as he studied her with that annoyingly easy smirk. "You enjoyed working with me."

"Enjoyed? No. Survived? Barely."

"Harsh."

"Accurate," she corrected smoothly, sealing the vial with a precise flick of her wand.

Fred just grinned. "You wound me, truly. I think I might sob."

"Well, try not to drown in your own tears, we still have to submit the potion," she said, placing the vial on their desk.

At that moment, Snape swept through the room like a dark shadow, robes billowing as he silently loomed over different cauldrons, evaluating the students' work with his usual disdainful expression.

As he reached their station, Lyra stepped back slightly, arms crossing over her chest as she waited for his verdict.

Snape peered into their cauldron, then lifted the vial she had prepared, turning it against the dim light.

His face, as always, was unreadable, but Lyra had spent enough time in his classes to catch the subtle shift in his expression.

Approval.

Not that he said it outright.

Instead, he simply nodded. "Satisfactory."

From Snape, that was practically a glowing review.

Fred, however, seemed determined to push his luck. "Satisfactory? Come on, Professor, I think we deserve a bit more than that."

Snape's gaze slowly lifted, dark and unimpressed. "Oh? And what, precisely, do you believe you deserve, Weasley?"

Fred remained quiet by the question, and accepted defeated. Nevertheless, they had done brilliant and the professor had no complaints.

"Good work, Arakan, Weasley." His smug voice called out, and they both received the highest grade, which was unusual for Fred.

Fred turned to Lyra with exaggerated shock. "Did you hear that? Weasley and good work in the same sentence? Snape must be dying inside."

Lyra rolled her eyes as she wiped her hands on a cloth. "More like he's trying to figure out how to take back the compliment without damaging his pride."

Fred grinned, watching Snape move on to another table where a cauldron was definitely melting. "Honestly, I think he's just relieved no one's exploded anything yet."

"Yet," she repeated, raising a brow. "You are in this class, after all."

"Well, that's rude. I'll have you know, I only sometimes cause explosions."

"Sure," Lyra deadpanned. "And Blaise only sometimes flirts with anything that breathes."

Fred snorted. "I like that you just compared me to Zabini."

"Fitting, isn't it? You're like the Gryffindor Blaise."

Before Fred could fire back a comeback, Snape's voice cut through the air.

"Since some of you have the bare minimum level of competence,"

His eyes flickered pointedly to the group beside them, who were currently trying to salvage their smoking cauldron. "you may bottle your potion and bring it to my desk before you leave."

Fred stretched his arms over his head, clearly satisfied. "Well, Arakan, much as I enjoy our banter, I'm afraid I have places to be."

She scoffed, carefully ladling their potion into a glass vial. "What, off to corrupt some first years?"

"Tempting," he said thoughtfully. "But no. This time, I think I'll just bother you instead."

She handed him the bottle with a deadpan stare. "Here. Deliver this to Snape's desk before I decide to dump it over your head."

Fred took without hesitation, leaning slightly over as he smiled. "Aye, aye, captain."

She rolled her eyes, gathering her things as he strolled off. Finally, she could have some peace.

Or so she thought.

Because just as she turned to grab her bag, George Weasley suddenly slid into the empty seat beside her, grinning like he'd just discovered the best joke in the world.

"So," George drawled. "What's this I hear about you and my dear brother making excellent partners?"

Lyra groaned. "You too?"

"You wound me, Arakan." He clutched his chest in mock offense. "I merely seek to understand why my usually competent brother looks so pleased over there. I was starting to get jealous."

She didn't have to look to know Fred was probably smirking like an idiot.

She sighed. "Because, shockingly, he actually managed to follow directions for once."

George hummed, unconvinced. "And yet, I sense something more."

"You sense wrong."

Before George could push further, Fred returned, sliding into his own seat like he had all the time in the world.

"Miss me?" he asked, looking far too smug.

"Like I'd miss a headache," Lyra muttered, grabbing her bag.

George grinned between them. "You know, I think I like this newfound dynamic."

"It's not a dynamic," Lyra snapped.

Fred shrugged. "Could've fooled me."

She gave him a withering look before slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Right. I'm leaving before I commit double homicide."

George chuckled as she stood. "We'll miss you, Arakan."

"Doubtful," she shot back, before heading towards the door.

But just before she left, she heard Fred call after her.

"Thanks fo the top grade!"

Damn him.

Lyra stormed out of the Potions classroom, still clutching her bag like it had personally wronged her. Fred Weasley was insufferable.

She barely made it past the dungeon corridor before she heard footsteps hurrying behind her. She groaned. He would not be this persistent.

But when she turned, it wasn't Fred, it was Theo.

"Hey, you left without me," he said lazily, falling into step beside her.

"You were busy sleeping through class," she retorted.

Theo smirked. "And yet, somehow, I still got a passing grade. What's your excuse for willingly partnering with him?"

"I didn't willingly do anything," she muttered, kicking a loose stone on the ground. "Snape assigned us together."

Theo shot her a sideways glance, clearly amused. "And yet, you two looked pretty synchronized back there. Almost friendly."

Lyra stopped in her tracks and turned to glare at him, to say some rude, snarky comment, but she didn't.

"Suddenly you're all awake and well.." She muttered.

Theo raised his hands in surrender, laughing. "Relax, Arakan. I'm just saying.I've never seen you work with someone so effortlessly."

She scoffed and started walking again. "It was one class. Don't make it weird."

Theo chuckled but didn't push further.

They made their way up from the dungeons, passing students loitering between classes. A few first years scrambled out of their way as they walked, but Lyra barely noticed.

She was still fuming about that damn Weasley.

By the time they reached the Great Hall for lunch, Lyra was already planning how to never be paired with Fred again.

Unfortunately, the universe seemed to have other plans.

Because there he was. Sitting directly across her, grinning like he'd been waiting for her to show up.

"What the hell? Why are you sitting here?" she hissed, glaring at him.

"It's lunch, am I not supposed to sit here?" He defended himself, looking at his brother like she was crazy.

Fred stole a piece of toast from George's plate and took a bite before answering. "Yeah, we get hungry too, believe it or not," he said casually, leaning forward on his elbows. "Besides, I wanted to see my brilliant partner again."

Lyra groaned and dropped her head onto the Slytherin table, which was right behind them. (I know they sit differently in the movies and the books, but just pretend the two tables are right across from each other.)

George snickered beside him. "It's so cute how he annoys you."

"Shut up, Weasley."

"I am a Weasley," Fred chimed in. "Which one were you talking to?"

"Both of you."

Astoria, who had been quietly listening from beside her, finally spoke up. "You do realise people are staring, right?"

Lyra looked up just in time to see half the Slytherin table watching them, some whispering, some smirking, even Adrian Pucey was eyeing her.

She scowled. "Fantastic."

One look from her was all it took for them to look away.

Fred only grinned wider. "Getting nervous, Arakan? Worried people will think you like me?"

Lyra stared at him with a cold stare. "If I ever like you, Weasley, assume I've been hit with a confundus Charm."

Fred chuckled, unbothered as always. "Duly noted."

Theo, who had been watching with a lazy smirk, finally leaned in. "Alright, Weasley. You've had your fun. Now, kindly get lost before Lyra actually commits murder."

Fred sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. I'll leave. But not before reminding dear Lyra that she owes me."

She narrowed her eyes. "For what?"

"For our perfect potion, of course," he said, flashing her a cheeky grin. "I think that means you owe me a favour."

"I carried you through that assignment!"

"Debatable."

"You absolute.."

"Alright, I'm going, I'm going," Fred laughed, standing up. "But don't worry, Arakan. I'll be seeing you real soon."

And with that, he winked and strolled off, leaving her sitting there, seething.

Theo bit into an apple and smirked. "You so like him."

Lyra threw a piece of bread at his head.

Damn both Weasleys.

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