As he lifted his quill from the page, he felt a sharp pain spear through his head. Somehow he knew it wasn't related to Voldemort, instead it was due to his last addition to the rule book.
A flood of memories surfacing, Harry awkwardly squirmed in his seat. A recollection of his first potions class, and the cold fury of Professor Snape. He'd been the first to be punished, obviously unfair, and from muggle origins unsure how things worked. His protests and apologies fell on deaf ears, as Snape had taken a cauldron from behind his desk, and landed it with a resounding thump directly in front of Harry.
Too small to see the contents, Snape growled for Harry to reach inside. The cauldron was silent, with nothing to suggest any bubbling or brewing contents. Perhaps it was a psychological test, Harry wondered, unsettled but sure it wasn't truly dangerous Harry reached in.
Pulling out a scrap of cloth, he wasn't sure what to make of the thing. It was only as he unfurled it, that it became clear what he'd pulled out.
His cheeks flushed as red as Ron's hair, as he realised he was holding ...
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