He had sort of hoped there would be more yelling. He couldn’t stand how unflappable Gogoladze was -- even now, repeating his last year of school -- so it would have made Conrad feel better to see him taken to task. As it was, he just slouched back in his seat, now thoroughly disappointed in this lecture.
When Conrad glanced up, the professor was looking at him -- he glanced straight back down, cheeks reddening. He hunched his shoulders and curved one arm around his parchment -- it wouldn’t do much if Galina Viktorovna came over to look at it, but it would at least hide it from anybody sitting around him -- and was busily shading a checkered grid on the bottom corner when
Justýna spoke to him again, barely above a whisper.
He sat up again and looked at his instructions, grateful he hadn’t written over any of the words, and frowned. It used the same alphabet as German, and thus easier to read than Russian had been, but he still couldn’t recognise many of the words. Curse Galina Viktorovna for doing their first lesson on something this irrelevant. He glanced back at the professor -- she was looking but no way could she read lips, right? -- and leaned closer to Justýna under the guise of looking at her instructions.
She’d addressed him in Russian, so he responded in kind, quietly and quickly. “Only some of it. I think you need the alcohol --†He looked over his instructions again and added, pointing with his little finger, “and I think these are percentages -- twenty, fifty, thirty -- but I don’t know for what.†He felt roundly horrible not being able to explain; here he had this girl’s last year and N.E.W.T.s in his hands and he would ruin them for her. He threw out an excuse -- “I don’t know anything about perfumes. I don’t even know what these smells are.†He gave his phial an ill-tempered prod with one finger -- it tilted so threateningly that he jerked to grab it before it could topple.
Fortunately, Galina Viktorovna seemed to be wrapping things up --
ugh -- he wasn’t going to do well on the homework, either, if he didn’t know what his perfume smelled of, and there was probably no hope for this perfume, even if he had taken the easy route. He glanced at his partner, to confirm silently that she was about finishing too, then got to his feet, crammed his vandalised instructions into his pocket, and deposited his stupid perfume on the table on his way out.
[out]