"Just this and one more period and then you get your potion. Are you going to want to try it with me around right then to see if it helps?" Bella asks him as she sets up her cauldron.
"Okay, can do." Today they are making shampoo. Literally. Shampoo. A fair number of the sixth grade potion curriculum appears to be toiletries. There's a footnote in the recipe about customization options; Bella looks at them and decides to try one. The teacher tells her that she wasn't supposed to do that, but it's too late to change; she is permitted to go on with her variant that will cause her shampoo to double as conditioner.
Magical social studies passes without event, although Bella is now attempting to judge the teacher's receptiveness to questions like "is it true that magical law enforcement, as a system, doesn't care if Muggles or Muggleborns get killed as long as it's not inconvenient to cover up". Her initial impressions are tentatively favorable, but not enough that she ventures inquiries today.
She heads for the healer's next, attempting to meet Sherlock there.
"Did you get your potion already?" she asks him, inspecting him for evidence of potion possession.
Off they go.
Bella sits in her desk chair and is present, as is necessary for this experiment.
Well, okay then! That seems useful. Bella does some homework. She's supposed to write two pages for Magic Theory.
But he left a note on her desk that says, Slept well.
Is it Feral? Why yes! Bella goes and sits there. She's pretty sure he's not going to murder her.
"You know, I was wondering about that, I just woke up this morning and was not at all sure if I had been murdered," she says.
"How did you survive being, well, a feral orphan, for - you said years, right? Before magic people found you and put you in school?"
"I want to know. I don't know how I'd do it, especially if I was littler than I am now and didn't have my library of doggerel poems."