Chapter 13 Defense Against Dark Arts Lesson
Della admitted that she was a little obsessed with reading and she arrived in the classroom almost on time.
As soon as she arrived at the classroom door, the strong smell of garlic rushed into her nostrils, making her almost nauseous. She subconsciously covered her mouth and nose. Fortunately, Professor Quirrell was leaning against the podium with his back to them, flipping through a book, and did not notice her movements.
The smell of garlic made even the most studious Ravenclaws retreat. In the entire classroom, only the first two tables in the middle row were empty. Della couldn't help but admire the people at the other two tables who were willing to sit in the first row.
Although there might not be much difference, Della still pinched her nose and sat at the table in the second row. She spread out the Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook and tried to ignore the unpleasant smell of garlic by concentrating on studying.
She had just read two lines when a ball of paper passed over her head and landed on her book in a graceful arc. Della looked up cautiously at first, but Professor Quirrell still had his back to him. She then turned around and found Ron holding Harry in the last row, smiling and waving at her.
Della raised an eyebrow and opened the small ball of paper.
"It seems that you are the one who should be careful not to be late. Maggie will be in the last row with us to enjoy the peace and quiet of her nose."
Well, it was too early for me to brag.
Throwing the paper ball aside, Della decided to ignore the childish guy. At this time, there was another sound of footsteps, and then a figure sat down heavily next to her. Looking at the other two fat people sitting reluctantly at the table in front of her, Della immediately guessed who was sitting next to her.
Are you so nauseous that you don’t see yourself?
There was also the sound of a boy breathing beside me. Maybe he was really anxious and didn't care. Well, of course I had to annoy him.
"Malfoy?" Della pretended to be very confused and turned her head to call him softly.
Draco's panting stopped suddenly. He opened his eyes wide and turned his head in slow motion to meet Della's gaze. The expression on his face was as if he had seen a ghost. The blush that had appeared due to running disappeared instantly when he saw that familiar pale face.
"Why did you think of sitting with a Mudblood like me?" A mocking expression immediately appeared on Della's face, and she spoke softly but with malice.
“You…you!”
"Ding!"
The bell that Quirrell had placed on the podium moved by itself and made a sharp sound. This sound frightened Draco from all his actions and words. The blood in his body seemed to freeze. He looked at Della's small face which was only fifteen centimeters away from him. He didn't know if it was because she was startled by the sudden sound, but he felt that the malicious arc at the corner of Della's mouth was approaching his heart.
"Now, let's start the class."
Professor Quirrell finally turned around, and the familiar stuttering tone was still in her ears. Della was silent for a moment, and the happiness that had just annoyed the young master disappeared instantly. She knew that the next class would be very difficult.
Forget it, just read a book and get through it.
After making up her mind, Della took a pen and pressed the book, writing and drawing from time to time, pretending to be listening carefully, but the page she turned to was completely different from the one Professor Quirrell was talking about.
On the other side, Draco took a long time to recover from the palpitation. When he came to his senses, Professor Quirrell's garlic smell rushed into his nose. Although he didn't vomit after staying there for so long, it did make him feel dizzy. Moreover, the professor's stuttering and weird tone of voice really made him impatient to continue listening.
Crabbe and Goyle in front of him had already fallen down. Draco quickly looked back twice and saw that most of them had fallen asleep. There were still a few who seemed to be fighting sleepiness stubbornly, with their heads nodding. Only a few of them looked not sleepy at all.
Among them was the Mudblood sitting next to him.
Draco felt a little frustrated. He couldn't deny that the mudblood had performed very well in the Transfiguration class that morning. After all, he had added a lot of points to Slytherin. Even he himself...
No, stop it, no matter what, a Mudblood can't possibly get along with a pureblood, humph.
Since he couldn't stand the garlic-smelling teacher's class anyway, Draco simply looked at Della beside him critically.
She was indeed pretty, Draco had to admit. He realized this when he first saw Della in the robe shop. She also seemed very polite, but had a bit of a bad taste.
Della's malicious smile flashed through Draco's mind, and he shuddered a little. What followed was a huge sense of dissatisfaction. He was a Malfoy, but he was actually frightened by a Mudblood. It was a great shame!
Draco gnashed his teeth again, his mind racing with plans to play a trick on her.
Glancing at Della, Draco saw her turn the page again. Only then did he notice that the textbook in Della's hand was not on the page it should be on. This Muggle-born was not listening at all!
Draco looked up at Professor Quirrell, who seemed to be concentrating on writing on the blackboard at the podium, and wrote a line in his notebook as if taking notes. Then he gently bumped into Della's arm and pushed the notebook over.
'What are you doing?'
Della, who was interrupted, pouted slightly in dissatisfaction and glanced at the young master who didn't know what to do, then moved her eyes to look at the words on the notebook.
Della did not take the notebook. Instead, she looked at Professor Quirrell in front of Draco and pointed at her own book, indicating that she was listening to the class.
Draco pouted, pulled back the notebook, and quickly pushed it away.
'Come on, that stutterer can't speak as fast as you.'
Della raised an eyebrow and finally took the notebook and started writing.
"I am making good use of my time." After writing it, he put it back.
'You are looking down on the professor. I will tell the professor!'
This insidious guy, Della complained in her heart, and she didn't write anything about Slytherin's point deduction. She just circled the word "stutter" and pushed it back.
Della felt that the person next to her seemed to pause and stopped writing. She chuckled in her heart, ignored him, and buried her head in her preparations to continue reading.
"What are you guys discussing?"
Della and Draco looked up at the same time and looked at Quirrell, who had walked up to Draco at some point. He squinted his eyes on his always timid face and reached out as if he wanted to pick up the notebook with a few lines of words written on it.
In the corner of his eye, the young master’s face suddenly turned pale.
……
Forget it, it will save me some trouble.
As Quirrell stretched his hand into the air and Draco's face turned paler and paler, Della stood up with a slightly embarrassed smile.
"I'm sorry, Professor. I just had a question that I didn't quite understand, but I didn't want to disturb your class, so I went to ask Malfoy."
The hand in front of Draco paused and slowly retracted, his inner panic dissipated as the hand moved away. He looked up in surprise at the girl who had rescued him. The yellowish afternoon sun cast a soft warm light on her face, and spots of light danced on her trembling long eyelashes, which made him hold his breath.
"Oh, yes, what's the problem?"
"Just like what you wrote on the blackboard, some black magic can cause irreversible scars and damage to people's bodies, but this characteristic is obviously not only possessed by black magic, so why wouldn't others be classified as black magic?"
"That's a very good question." Quirrell looked at Della and nodded, then continued, "However, this question is too complicated for you. It is not suitable to be discussed in class."
"Miss Riddle, you may come to me after class, and I can answer your other questions."
Della paused and subconsciously looked at Quirrell. The other had a forced smile on his face, which made Della feel a little uncomfortable, but she still smiled and nodded in cooperation.
"Very good, I like thinking students, Slytherin, ten points."
Della had a bad feeling, she felt like she was being watched. Professor Quirrell was really weird, but she had no idea what was wrong.
Della raised her eyebrows, and no longer paid attention to the notebooks that kept coming back and forth beside her, and listened to the class with difficulty.
Draco changed the wording on his notebook several times, wanting to have another conversation with Della, but all his attempts to express his gratitude were ignored. He didn't even get a glance. He could only read the book with a flushed face.
After finally getting through the class, Draco just reached out to tug on Della's clothes, but Quirrell walked down with a fake smile. He saw Della also fakely smiled, and the two walked out in silence.
Draco rarely felt a little guilty.