Abby didn't like potions class on a good day. She was constantly forced to touch icky animal parts, gross bug pieces, and chop up any number of other things that may goop or glob or ooze. And then she had to measure and weigh the things, and if they weren't exactly perfect, your potion wouldn't turn out right. Potion making was so finicky, it requires exact everything, and any deviation could make an explosion, or just a complete failure. It didn't help any that, since the potions usually had to be boiling, and there was a fire under each cauldron, it made the room hot and stuffy, despite the many drafts to keep the nasty smelling fumes and smoke to choke and strangle all the students. And the vapors that poured out from their workstations always made her feel stick and in need of a bath and she could smell it on her clothes no matter how many times she had the school house elves wash them. And then, since it was so easy to spill, with all the liquid and squirting, disgusting things, there were stains on her clothes, even despite her precautions. She'd go in there, taking off her outer robes to protect them as best she could, and despite her care they'd still gain spots, and she'd roll up her sleeves and she even brought an apron to wear, but it didn't help any.

No, Abby did not like potions, not even a little. She didn't even like the teacher, a batty old woman who liked to make fun of her when she messed up and didn't always tell people when they were doing something wrong, even if she saw them going about it. Abby had once done something wrong, having caught the professor's eye. And she had just watched Abby do it. Of course, Abby hadn't known it was wrong at the time, but she also wasn't completely sure it was right. And she'd just given some old lady chuckle and told her how to correct her mistake, which she wouldn't have even made if it wasn't for the batty old woman. It was made worse by the fact that this woman was her head of house. How could she go to her head with problems if she could barely stand the woman, even though she seemed a bit more competent outside of potions class. But she was still a crazy, overly cheery old woman with a crackling laugh.

And now, she had some absurd idea to pair everyone up into groups. Couldn't let them choose for themselves! But then again, Abby wasn't really the best partner, and people tended to avoid sitting with her in this class, mostly because she was so terrible at it. Of course. Of course that was why no one ever wanted to pair with her. But still! She'd rather be alone then forced to be with some stranger. 'Or even worse,' she thought, looking to the blond boy beside her. 'Some Gryffindor' She snorted at him unhappily, and opened her book to the appropriated page.