"Malfoy?! Really?" Hermione stared at me in disbelief, her voice carrying that perfect blend of academic outrage and personal concern.
I had caught her just as she was leaving the Great Hall after dinner. Harry and Ron were still hunched over their food, engaged in a competition to see who could shovel more shepherd's pie into their mouths in a single minute. I doubted either of them even noticed she had left.
"Well, if that's the case," Hermione said, mockingly waving her Potions book at me, "I better start this essay right away before you lot blow up the classroom."
I nodded, amused but grateful. Even if I didn't know her long, it was obvious Hermione had a soft spot for excellence. She lived for it. As she darted off toward the library, I could already tell she was mentally halfway through the homework Snape had just assigned us.
Me? I had other plans.
Instead of burying myself in parchment and cauldrons, I was currently sprawled across the grass in one of the castle courtyards with Silvy Ikwood, plotting my escape from the hellish tutoring arrangement Snape had so kindly thrust me into. "You could always ask the Weasley twins for some puking pastilles," she offered. "Works for the first few weeks. After that, it might get suspicious."
It wasn't a bad idea, but I shook my head. "I've had enough of Weasleys for now," I muttered.
Silvy looked puzzled. "What happened?"
I hesitated for a beat, then sighed. "It's Ron. Said something about how there's never been a dark witch or wizard who wasn't in Slytherin."
Her face twisted into a mix of confusion and annoyance. "Oh, come on. That's stupid. If it helps, you're one of the nicest Slytherins I've met."
"One of the?" I gasped in mock offense. "I'd argue I'm the nicest."
She laughed, giving me a playful shove. "Sure you are, Potter."
"But yeah," she continued more seriously, "is that why you haven't really talked to them lately?"
"Mostly. That and the fact that they've been missing from dinner a couple of times. Probably busy saving the world or uncovering a troll in the basement or something."
Silvy smirked. "I wonder what they're up to."
So did I.
Before we could go further down that rabbit hole, a cheerful voice called my name. "Peter!"
I turned to find River Talpin—Ravenclaw robes crisp, blond curls bouncing—walking toward us. "River!" I stood and greeted her with a grin. "It's been a whole week! How've you been?"
"Just fine!" She smiled, glancing over at Silvy. "And who's this?"
"This is Silvy Ikwood. Silvy—River Talpin."
"Nice to meet you!" River beamed. "Will I see you both at Hogsmeade tomorrow?"
"Most likely," Silvy replied.
River gave us a wave before vanishing down the corridor, as quick as she had come.
Silvy's smile faded the moment she was gone. "Wait—you're coming to Hogsmeade, right?"
I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly. "Probably not. I don't have parental permission. Kinda hard to get that signed when your guardian's an emotionally constipated owl and the Ministry doesn't recognize your signature."
Her face fell. "Seriously?"
"I would've loved to go. Honest."
Silvy groaned, then gave me a side-eye and smirked. "Well, I suppose that means I won't have to deal with your constant sarcasm all day."
We both laughed. The moment lightened again.
But the real mission of the evening was still in front of us: Operation Deter Malfoy. Our plan was devilishly simple.
If Malfoy thought she was going to enjoy tormenting me through these tutoring sessions, then I'd just have to flip the script. I'd be so annoying, so inept at potions, and so relentlessly irritating that he'd dread every second of it. And when it came time for actual brewing? I'd be so hopeless he'd consider putting me in detention himself.
"He'll drop this within a week," Silvy said confidently as we headed toward our dormitories.
"You're a genius, Ikwood," I said.
She grinned. "I know. And what would you do without me, Potter?"
"Probably explode a cauldron and take the entire Slytherin common room with me."
"Exactly," she said, laughing. "Exactly."