PRECEDENT : Draco Malfoy II

05

By the end of January, I have managed to slowly speak with Anthony in class again. In charms, he sits in front of me, so I leave my quill in my dorm twice so that I can ask him for an extra. He always has many, since whenever we have a spare moment he likes to practice calligraphy.

Most other professors will tell Anthony to stop. Snape is particularly brutal, and McGonagall demands the utmost respect. There isn't much opportunity for writing in other subjects, since they often tend to be more practical. It is only under Flitwick's watchful eye and in the history of magic that he doodles.

It shouldn't matter. He has the highest grades of the Ravenclaws in our grade, and I've never seen him put in more effort than the bare minimum. Actually, as far as I know, he's second only to Hermione Granger, and she tries harder than anyone else. I don't think I've ever seen him in the library.

At least these extra quills give me a reason to talk to him. At least he answers with a quiet whisper, but not one that is impatient.

Every year in advance of my birthday, my parents give me a couple hundred pounds so that I can buy myself some nice things before returning to school. It's a pain to convert the pounds to galleons at Gringotts, but regardless, I have money to spend at Hogsmeade. I use some of the galleons I brought with to grab some nice stationery for Anthony. From there, I sneak into the boys' dormitory when they are all in the Great Hall and leave it on his bed. If he doesn't figure out it's from me, that's fine. It will have been something though.

I spend the rest of the weekend studying in the library. Hermione isn't here, so I feel somewhat accomplished even if I don't feel like I'm digesting much of the information. My efforts would be better spent doing practical magic, but I don't know where I could find a private area to try. Perhaps like Michael, I need to win a professor's favour.

"Hey," Terry says.

When my eyes flicker up from the textbook, he is sitting down across from me, already unloading his stuff.

"Where's your best friend?" I ask, looking up at him.

He cocks his head, "Anthony? He's with Michael, workshopping music. Michael's held him hostage all morning. He's more on edge than usual."

"I meant Mandy," I smile.

"You mean your best friend?" he asks.

When I try to catch his eye, he is digging through his bag, pulling out three different books. Hopefully, he is joking. I hate Mandy, certainly as much as she hates me.

I go back to my book, reading more about the most mysterious areas of magic in the wizarding world. This book covers time, death and love, and how as concepts, they are sort of interrelated. Next year we will have our first career meetings. Mine will be with Flitwick, and hopefully, he will know what careers there are in complex magical theory. My grades have improved drastically in the last few months since I kind of gave up on a social life.

"Are you looking to become some sort of magical innovator?" Terry asks across from me.

I don't put my book down, "you think?"

"Just a guess. I've only noticed you read books about complex areas of magic for the past few years," there is a hint of a joke in Terry's voice. "You also helped Michael make a music box in just a few hours."

"So, you notice me?" I grin.

I hear Terry shut his book. My eyes don't go up to look at him though. I try to play coy, flipping through the pages still, fingers moving slowly, eyes focused in even if I'm not actually reading.