Distractions

Distractions

Harry hums as he works on his homework in the library. He doesn´t know what he´s singing; he´s just stringing notes together. "La tee dah..." he murmurs aloud. He squints at the Astronomy chart. What the hell is it saying? He wishes vaguely that Hermione were here, but what with her Prefect meetings and the extra mounds of homework that come with Arithmancy, she barely has time to see her friends.

He sighs and looks closer at the chart. At this angle, Polaris would be in the perfect position for performing the Amadelius Charm... He jots that down in his notes; maybe it´ll be on the exam on Thursday.

"What´re you doing here without your legions of fangirls, Potter? And you can´t forget the co-presidents, Weasel and that Mudblood bint." Harry can feel exasperation coming on. God, why can´t Malfoy get a life and go annoy the hell out of someone else?

"Go away," Harry says, which is much shorter than what he had planned to say: "Bugger off, you evil bastard. I realize you have a crazed obsession with me and all that has to do with me, but I´m studying. Come back at a more convenient time."

"No." Malfoy sits down across from Harry and glares. "I´m going to sit right here and annoy you."

Harry gets a distinct impression that Malfoy is fighting the urge to say, "So there," but he decides not to comment on that. "Okay." Harry turns back to his book and various charts. He can still feel Malfoy glaring at him. Eh, he´ll get bored of that eventually.

Hmm. So, the conjunction that Orion´s Belt is making with the handle of the Big Dipper is interesting to observe because... Harry squints and then scribbles down more notes.

"That´s wrong." Harry looks up. Malfoy is looking disdainfully at Harry´s admittedly messy notes.

"What?"

"What you just wrote down. At that position in the sky, Altair is predicting the rise of famine, not drought specifically."

"Oh." Harry scribbles out his previous words and writes in what Malfoy said. "Thanks."

"Don´t thank me Potter." Malfoy glares at Harry with renewed strength.

"Er. Right. You´re horrible, Malfoy, and don´t you dare help me. Better?"

"Yes, quite."

Fifteen minutes pass in complete silence. Harry looks up at Malfoy. He has pulled out a book and is engrossed in its contents. Harry reads the golden title that is embossed across the front. Jinxes With Which to Annoy Your Mortal Enemy is what it said. Harry feels an urge to read that book and possibly try a few jinxes on Malfoy. He wonders if there is a jinx that stops blonds that can´t seem to get a clue from coming up to him at inopportune moments and distracting him from his schoolwork. Knowing the eccentricity of some wizards, there probably is one.

Harry cups his face in his hand. He feels his quill scratching against his cheek, and he looks in bemusement down at his calculations. Wait, no... He scribbles down another number. There. That´s better.

Harry feels a foot nudging at his under the table. Harry glares at the innocent-looking top of Malfoy´s fair haired head, which is the only part of him that is visible. "Stop," Harry says.

"Stop what?" Malfoy asks from behind the book. Nudge, nudge.

"Stop. Seriously. I´m trying to study you know."

Malfoy is silent. A page turns. Harry turns back to his charts. Almost done, just three more questions left to answer. He leans back and stretches a bit. Harry scratches his head with his quill. What in hell is the Latin name of The Big Dipper? Nudge, nudge.

"Stop it," Harry growls. He thinks in the back of his head for a moment that he sounded a bit like Sirius just then, with the gravelly voice. Quite amusing, really.

"No," says Malfoy calmly, nose still in his book.

"Why in hell not?" Harry´s voice rises and Madame Pince glares at them from where she is cataloguing books. Harry winces. "Sorry," he mouths at her.

He turns back to Malfoy, "Look," he whispers threateningly, "Just do what you came here to do and sod off."

Looking up, Malfoy blinks at Harry for a moment before he bursts out laughing. "Potter," he gasps, "you look so stupid."

Harry glares. "What?" he says.

Still laughing, Malfoy tucks his book under his arm and starts walking away, tossing back, "Go find a mirror."

Harry frowns at Malfoy´s retreating back. He sits and finishes the rest of his notes. As he walks out, he passes a gilded mirror near the entrance of the library. His right cheek is covered in ink from absent-minded marks he made with his quill while he was thinking. He shakes his head at the mirror and goes to wash his face off, thinking that for once, Malfoy is quite right; he does look rather stupid with a bunch of ink on his face.

Harry wanders off to the common room, mumbling under his breath that stupid blonds who annoy the hell out of him should all be tied down and tickled until they admitted that they were secretly stalking him. But then that gets him thinking about having Malfoy tied down, so he quickly starts thinking about the Astronomy exam instead.

***

End. Okay. `Tis over.