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“…stuck to it, and so, class,” droned the nasally voice of Professor Snape as he wrote on the board. “I would like you to look on the board, gather all of the ingredient needed, and, if any of you have the mental capacity for it, produce the potion…”

Tuning out my malevolent Potions teacher, I couldn’t help agreeing that he was right. I didn’t have the mental capacity to achieve anything remotely productive. No today, at least.

It was shameful, but I couldn’t concentrate in class. Daydreaming was my main activity for the day, and that was a poor habit of a Ravenclaw to adapt. When had slacker become one of my attributes of the day? If they kicked me out of Ravenclaw, the best I could hope for was probably the house elves’ quarters.

Looking towards the left side near the window, I tried freeing my mind. Davies was piling up even more ludicrous jobs (escalating to the point where he ordered I brush his hair, which I refused), continuing to piss me off to no end. Jill was becoming even more impossible as well, but that was no surprise.

Her incessant sexual innuendos concerning Samuels and me were driving me off the wall, and she was sickly amused by it. As were the whole team. And surprisingly, as was Davies. Merlin, was anyone normal in this world today?

Suddenly, I felt a whip of air land on my desk, causing me to slightly jerk. When I looked down, I found that it was a note. Honestly, who passed notes these days? Sappy romantics?

After checking to make sure that Snape was in his own bitchy world paying no attention to me whatsoever, I quickly unfolded the note silently to see a boyish scrawl scribbled there:

You keep staring at me like that, and people might actually think that you have a crush on me.

A scowl deformed my face, and I instantly navigated around the room to see who sent me this outrageous note. My head frantically whipping itself to search the room must have been quite the sight to see, because I heard a low chuckle erupt from the left side.

His dark eyes were cruelly lit with amusement. Samuels…grrr. And he thought I was looking at him?! The window just happened to be in his direction! The last thing I wanted to view was him; I wouldn’t want any mental nightmares again.

With a quick eye roll, I flattened the paper and immaturely wrote:

Look who’s talking, He Who Passes Notes.

Crumpling it up into a tight ball, I lodged the note back to his desk and kept my head down, avoiding whatever parchment torpedoes he was plotting to whip my way. This reminded me of adolescent couples passing love notes to each other behind the teacher’s back. Yeah, as if Samuels and I fit into that stereotype. Over my dead body.

I heard the unfolding of the paper (damn boy couldn’t be quiet about it) and couldn’t resist but look back to see his reaction. He oddly had a wry smile on his face, and met my gaze with a condescending smirk as if that justified anything.

Bizarre. He was acting completely bizarre—

“Samuels! Dobbs!” Snape drawled from the board, his voice drained of life. It’s a wonder why he hasn’t found a mate yet. He just seems so charming and vivacious *gag*. “When you two are done playing patty cake together, I’ll see to it that you are partners. To make it all the more convenient.”

I nearly gagged, but it was quickly drowned out by the fit of laughter that erupted around the room. Snape knew we hated each other (actually, everyone did). There was even one incident where Samuels and I nearly threw toxic potions at each other’s direction…by accident.

And now he thinks we’re playing “patty cake”. What a sick man he is. Like I’d ever pat Samuels’s cake…oh gross. Not the mental image I needed right now.

“Silence!” Snape ordered his immature class, all throwing suggestive nods in my direction. “Who wants to be the next victim, then? Because I truly do have a knack for pairing up students of the compatible sort.”

Oh, now he was just toying with us. Cruel bastard. He probably thought that if Samuels and I murdered each other, it would only be two less students to keep track of.

“When you all are ready, you can get together with your partner and produce the potion.” Snape continued.

MORE LIKE RE-PRODUCE!” someone annoyingly voiced in the class, targeting Samuels and me. The students burst out laughing.

“Mr. Stretton, if you cannot contain yourself,” Snape’s hard voice killed the laughter. “I shall have to force you to work with me.”

Ha, I thought cruelly. How’s that for ‘reproducing’, Jeremy. Remind me to beat him severely when I have all my gear on during practice.

“Now class, get started.” He ordered, and I could have sworn he sent me a maliciously triumphant smirk. Stupid ponce. Whatever monsters raised him should be put in Azkaban.

The class burst into action before Snape could torment them any longer. From the opposite side of the classroom, Jill sent me a little wink, as if thanking the gods for this wonderful partner arrangement. Mental note: slap her when class was finished.

Shamefully, I rose from my desk to meet up with my…*gulp* partner.

Everywhere, I heard sniggers rise from the mouths of every entertained student. What nerve! Someone was even bold enough to call out a, “Bow chica wah wahhh”. Jeremy Stretton, you will die.

Why did I have to endure this walk of shame? Samuels was quite competent enough to walk over to my desk. Lazy ass. He observed me with a frown on his face, his dark eyes shaded with an ‘I-think-I-may-just-kill-myself/my partner’ tone. Likewise, buddy. Likewise.

“Look what the cat dragged in…” his eyes looked up, observing my figure as I reached his desk.

“Look what Satan popped out…” I countered, staring down at him in the same derogatory manner. Well, well, this should be interesting. I had my suspicions that Davies and Snape were in cahoots with each other.

“Did you understand the assignment,” he asked, blatantly looking away as if ashamed to be even near me. “Or were you too busy looking in my direction?”

I threw him a look of death. “Wait, wha—”

“My point exactly,” he murmured languidly, taking down notes from the board. “It has always astounded me why you were sorted into Ravenclaw.”

“For your information, I was not looking at you.” I gritted my teeth, the scowl remaining permanent. Students at their stations noticed my look of contempt, and stared at us with interest as if watching an enjoyable movie. What cads.

“I never said you were looking at me. I just said ‘in my direction’” He even used his fingers to emphasize his meaningless point. “But now that you’re fighting it, it’s blatantly obvious that the former is true.”

He rose up from his desk to gather supplies, as I just stood there, with my mouth hanging open in an idiotic manner. I couldn’t snap out of it. What pills did he take this morning? The severely obnoxious ones?

When I finally did snap out of it, I scampered over to the supplies table before Snape thought I was just dazing off again. Samuels was there, looking at a jar of something with scrutinizing eyes.

“Did you get everything?” I asked him, a sarcastic note biting my words. “Or are labels just too much for you to comprehend?”

His glare erupted in my direction as he slammed down the jar forcefully and extracted a certain amount of whatever was in there. “Go back to the table and wait like a good girl.”

My surly look reflected my tone. “Give me the list so I can do something.”

“You want to do something useful?” he asked, his tone acrid and bitter. “How about you shut your mouth.”

I rolled my eyes at how immature he was acting. If he didn’t grow up soon, we’d fail this assignment. We’re Ravenclaws, for heavens sake!

Intentionally, I bumped into him to get a better view of the chalkboard, to examine the materials needed for the potion. Touch potion, it was labeled on the board. I didn’t like the sound of it, but I prepared the ingredients regardless.

The last ingredient was a beautiful, delicate purple flower called a spryx. Its tiny unfurling petals were lined with dusted pink glitter, emitting a celestial magenta fog around it. It was nearly about the size of a half dollar, and I was reaching for it with my finge—

“Are you crazy!?”

A firm hand grabbed onto mine, forcing it away from the mesmerizing ingredient. Jets of heat flushed up my arm and my heart started beating with celerity. I looked longingly at the flower, and then at my trapped hand.

“You need tongs to carry a spryx, Dobbs!” Samuels whispered furiously at me, his eyes blazing. “Don’t you ever listen in class?”

“I do!” I stubbornly replied. “Your ego is just so large it’s hard to concentrate!”

“Fine, you want to get severe frostbite on your hands,” he said, explaining the consequence of touching a spryx. “Be my guest.”

“Then let go of me.”

Together, we stared shocked at the sight of our hands joined together. The heat continued to churn my insides. I wondered if anyone was noticing this display of PDA (gag me). Looking around the room, my eyes saw busy students working on the assignment with attentiveness. That was until I saw Jill.

From afar, she was curiously observing us, wondering why we had stopped arguing for that one moment. She didn’t see our hands, so I took that moment to block them from her.

I was expecting Samuels to throw my hand off as if it were mutated with an alien disease. But my suspicions grew higher as he lingered his hand tightly on mine longer than necessary. With a final tug, I wrenched my hand from his grasp.

“Control yourself, Samuels.” I retorted like a disappointed teacher to a bad pupil, walking back to the desk. He muttered something angrily under his breath, but I was too distracted to even hear it. The heat was still flushing my brain.

To distract myself, I lit up the cauldron, feeling heat from the flames. The right heat, caused by flames, not by a touch. I shook my head at my own irrationality.

In his own little world, my oh so delightful partner started to pour in the ingredients and mix them accordingly. He didn’t even spare a single glance at me, intentionally ignoring me. Oh, so that’s how you want to play it. Let’s hold hands then treat you like the pariah. Brilliant Samuels…you sodding nutcase.

After mixing for quite a while (silently, I might add), Samuels took a brief break to shake out a cramp in his hands…wimp. To give myself an occupation, I seized the spoon propped up against the edge and started mixing in the same manner as he did.

“Did I say you could touch anything?” his voice sounded more vicious than before.

“I don’t take orders from jackasses, bud.” I replied conversationally as I mixed, the potion sloshing a tad bit at the sides.

“Give it back here, Dobbs. Unless you want to fail us.”

“Just nurse your hand back to health,” I harshly recommended. “I think mixing was a little too much to handle for you.”

A growl was heard from him, before I saw him lunging for the spoon like a territorial cat. A splash of the blue potion splattered to the side, but I dodged it. Oh, wouldn’t that be convenient? Spraying me with some mysterious ‘Touch potion’, Samuels? Well, game on.

And so, the little spoon fight continued. He kept trying to retrieve the spoon back while I defended it stubbornly. Because of this little feud, the mixing became irrelevant. My mind was only set on dodging his grabby hands and also the random splash of potion hitting in my direction.

“Give it here!”


“Dobbs, I swear…”

“It’s just a spoon, you ponce!”

I was mixing it first!”

“You’re such a whiner!”

“And you’re a—”


Professor Snape was never able to finish his yell, because Samuels savagely lunged at me from his side, causing me to repel to the opposite, sending a humongous amount of potion flying out of the cauldron, triggering the pot to bounce off its stand, and then shaking the desk so that all the materials avalanched off the desk.

“YOU IDIOT!” we both shouted at each other.

“Samuels! Dobbs! Enough!” Snape roared angrily as he tore across the room to stand threateningly over us. The entire class watched us with amazement, anticipating what would happen next…sick, twisted classmates.

I scoffed at the gods for making Samuels my partner (thank you for such a pleasant surprise) and also at the fact that he had managed to splatter some of the dreaded potion onto my right hand. My hand didn’t burn into ashes as I had been predicting, but remained the same (just coated in some blue goo).

Snape finally arrived, his haughtiness ready to take flight. “You two have managed to cause complete chaos in just the course of one class. Clean up, and feel free to take a detention on the way out.”

I didn’t know who I wanted to smack more, Snape or Samuels. The sick, violent fantasies ensured in my head as I started to gather the materials fallen on the floor.

From above, I heard someone applauding.

Stretton! One more time, and you’ll be joining them!”

Applauding ceased.

Even if I was annoyed with him at the moment, I couldn’t help smirking at Jeremy’s antics. I started retrieving fallen materials from the ground with my right hand, holding them in my left. The blue liquid on my right hand was glaring at me, but I didn’t dare wipe it on anything.

If it was harmless until the end of class, I’ll just have to consult with Snape about carefully removing it from my hand. If he’d even. Maybe he’d think it amusing to just leave it be, thinking it would look quite comely with my skin color. The bastard.

These thoughts of randomness rushed through my mind as I reached for the fallen spoon, broken jars, a purple flow—

The same brawny hand snatched my right one in an instant before it touched the spryx. I would have said thank you, if the beholder of the hand weren’t such a bastard. Tugging hard, I tried my best to escape his tight grasp.

“If this is how you say thank you, then you’re doing a rather poor job at it.” Samuels tisked icily, his hand remaining on mine. Oh great, the heat was coming again.

“Honestly, I’d rather get frostbitten then have your smarmy germs all over my hand,” I stubbornly replied, yanking my hand like an idiot. Was I honestly this weak, or was he just abnormally strong? “Get off of me!”

“Don’t get too excited, Dobbs. I am merely just giving you a hand.” His face scrunched as if the idea sickened him. “Ugh, the visual of me on top of you is nauseating enough.”

I resisted the impulse to slap the back of his head, and concentrated more on trying to free my hand from him. Was he always this grabby, or did he just have a strange infatuation with holding hands? Either way, the heat the rushed through my veins did not alleviate the situation at all.

“Well, let go of me, then!” I shrieked, looking like an impatient toddler attempting to escape the clutches of an evil nanny. “People may start to get the impression that you might actually like me.”

He jerked at this idea, and immediately released me…only to find out….that he couldn’t.

“Samuels, I mean it!”

“I can’t!” he fiercely replied back. “My hand won’t let me.”

“What do you mean your hand won’t let you!?” I questioned furiously, thinking that he was acting like a ridiculous little child.

“Exactly what I said!” he said defiantly, tugging his left hand with as much force as I was using on my right. His hand moved just a half-inch away from mine, but that’s as far as it could go, no further. We were both unsuccessful, and that made me frightened.

We were going to be stuck together, forever. Gah, couldn’t I at least be stuck to a person with a better personality?!

“Did you get some potion on you?” Samuels asked out of the blue, giving up on trying to pull away like an idiot.

“Yeah, the stuff you nearly missile-fired at me!” I responded back with childish rage, remembering the blob of blue goo on my right—


“You bimbo!” he nearly shouted, his eyes blazing with even more fury. “You failed to tell me that there was Touch potion on your hand?!”

“I don’t know, what does Touch potion do?!?” I didn’t even know why I was yelling. “And I’m not a bimbo!”

“Oh that’s right. You’re a slacker,” he said, coming at me with anger. “The Touch potion acts as a sort of adhesive, like glue. So when slathered onto a surface, the next thing that comes into contact with it becomes—”

“Stuck to it.” I finished, remembered the only words that Snape had said in the very beginning. The first words that I actually caught during the entire lesson. There’s Ravenclaw pride, for you all.

“And because of you, we’re both one hand short!” he complained gruffly.

“I only need one hand to slap you.” I fought back with, my glare turning challenging. My free hand was ready to slap with as much force as possible.

“Why, you little—”

“Dobbs and Samuels!” Snape rounded back to us furiously, like a master returning back to his naughty dog. “I leave you alone for minutes and you’re already going to rip each other to shreds—”

His angry rant was interrupted as he saw our two hands joined together. A quizzical (and slightly disgusted) look took form on his face. “Why on earth are you two holding hands?”

After holding in during silent observation, the entire class erupted into large fits of hysteria. Oh, how nice of our classmates to enjoy my pain. Love them. Love them.

It took me a moment to find Jill and Jeremy together, partners on one desk. Of course, Jeremy was dying with laughter, supporting himself with the edge of his desk. But the worst of all was Jill, because she didn’t have a look of hilarity on her face, but one of consideration.

She took in the sight of Samuels and me together, holding hands, and actually tilted her head to the side in contemplation. As if sizing us up…to be a real couple.

God save us all.

“CLASS! Back to work!” Snape snarled at his students, who immediately returned to their mixtures while trying to hide their smirks and snickers. After, he finally turned to us and eyed us suspiciously. “Now, how in the world did you two end up playing hanky panky?”

Hanky panky? Was Snape intentionally being a creep today?

“She had some potion on her hand, sir,” Samuels answered, throwing me a pointed glare. Gee, thanks for throwing me to the sharks you ass!

“And you just felt the need to grab her hand, Samuels?” Snape questioned icily, although I could detect a hint of amusement. I could tell he was observing this situation with a little more interest than concern. “Very touching.”

“No, Professor, not what I meant!” Samuels tried to defend himself with, a tad bit flustered by how his words were being comprehended. “She was about to touch a spryx without tongs and I—”

“Grabbed her hand just in time.” The professor looked down at our hands as if it were a mutant baby. I doubted he ever saw such an extent of affection. Ughh, did I just call it affection? “How heroic, Samuels.”

Heroic my arse. “Professor, it’s all his fault becau—”

“All my fault?!” Samuels’ eyes flared. “It was you who—”

“Enough!” Snape ended our pointless argument before it could have escalated any further. “Now, this incident seems to have caused you both into such distress—”

More than anything.

“—and is also burdening you both at being in the mere distance of each other—”

Right as hell!

“—so to make your day run more smoothly,”


“You will no longer serve your detentions—”

Did I mention how much I love this man?

He had a nasty sneer on his face. “And instead, serve it by spending the entire day, stuck to each other.”

What?!” our shouts of disbelief were in unison.

Scratch that. Hate him even more than humanly possible. And the aware for Most Inhumane and Sadistic Adult Figure goes to…

“Professor Snape! You can’t be serious!” I pleaded, sounding a tad bit pathetic.

“Oh, I am serious.” He enunciated each word with bitterness. “It takes about 5 hours to brew the antidote potion, and I’ll have it for you by the end of the day.”

I could sense a flow of uneasiness, radiating off of both Samuels and me. The expression on his face looked as though he wanted to hurt something severely. Judging by our closeness, I could tell I would be his first test subject. Great.

“Enjoy your day.” Snape drawled with a false smile and sadistic black eyes.

Dear Wonderfully Patient Readers,
Thank you so much for all the feedback, I love it! Once again, I am immensely sorry for the long time in between updates. I beg for forgiveness, and hope that this preview will butter you guys up :) PREVEW:

“I’m Jacob Samuels,” the guy stepped up, shaking my hand within his warm one. His eyes gazed over to me. “Who knew my brother would end up with Miss Dobbs herself.”

Samuels took a reflexive step in front of me, and I think his fingers clamped tighter—protectively?— around mine. “We’re not together.”

Yup, there’s a brother in the mix. If you want more, all you have to do is ask;) well as tell me your thoughts, fave quotes, and all that stuff. Be sure to go to my Meet The Author page for questions of any sort!

Your Obedient Servant,
The Phantom

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