PRECEDENT : Draco Malfoy II

06

The first Triwizard task was amusing, but here we are during the second, staring at the lake and the other Ravenclaws are getting bored from the lack of action. I don't quite mind, because I enjoy that we are at the Great Lake. The spectators have formed a circle around the lake, watching on, but there is little action besides the occasional ripple from the lake. We Ravenclaws have found our own spot, toward the edge of the lake. The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs manage to find enjoyment in waiting for their champions to come back, but we have not.

I love it. Most of the Ravenclaws have decided to chat or play idle word games to keep themselves occupied. I brought my oil pastels, and I am practicing sketching the water. The colour feels all wrong. People may call it the Black Lake, but it isn't quite that dark. In parts, the green algae below tinge the surface of the water, but in most spots, it is some midnight blue, the colour of the ceiling of the Great Hall at night. When the dark shadows of creatures move below, it almost seems a deep violet. My best efforts cannot get the colour right.

A different shadow hangs over me, and when I peer up, Terry stares down at me. I offer him the smallest of nods. He doesn't speak but instead sits down beside me.

"New book this week?" I ask, returning my gaze back to my oil pastels.

"No," Terry shrugs, "Mum says I've been going through them too quickly this year. She bought me the entire history of the Triwizard tournament. It's actually dreadful, but I'm not allowed to buy anything else until it's done."

Only not do I dare look over. The book on his lap is the size of his torso, and twice as thick. I can feel myself smiling. His bookmark is only a quarter of the way through.

"Got it today?" I ask.

He smiles, his dark eyes peering at me, "yesterday actually. I'm trying to prove a point."

"You're going to fail every class but a history of magic," I turn back to my page, trying my best to move on to the clouds. My clouds are nearly as bad as my sky. "And muggle studies I suppose."

"That'll teach Mum for sure," Terry leans in closer. His shadows are making it harder to colour, but I pay it little if any mind.

We haven't really spoken since I last ran into Malfoy at the library, and it's been the better part of a month. He always has his head in a book, or he's dealing with whatever Anthony and Michael have roped him into. Sometimes, he'll show up in the library and sit across from me. At least Mandy has been giving me distance as well. The quiet is somewhat peaceful. Only Hermione and I really talk, and we usually exchange no more than ten words while giving each other directions to a book's title.

The chamipons only have an hour, and I don't know how long they've been gone, but my best guess, based on my progression through this piece, is thirty minutes. I am hoping to stay once the task is complete. I was late to the first task and I got an earful from Mandy about it. Now, she'll have less to bother me about later. If I'm lucky, I'll avoid her altogether.

"Who are you rooting for, based on the historical context?" I ask, nodding my head toward his book.

"I'm still in the 1300s," he says, shaking his head. "Durmstrang's never won though, in all its history. Hogwarts has a slight edge on Beauxbatons, so I'd have to go with one of ours. Besides, Delacour's performance has been... lacklustre."

He only barely looks up from my book, and I mostly try to keep my eyes on the paper in front of me. I'm not very good, and usually, I wouldn't let someone get close enough to see. With Terry, I suppose that I don't mind. He knows how to keep to himself in a proper way. When I'm with him, it's sometimes like being alone, although in a good way.