In Evidence Of Magical Theory

Chapter 6 ~ Perseverance

Over the next few weeks, Harry threw himself into his studies, much to Ron's consternation and Hermione's delight. It was something to do, to fill the extra time he found himself with. After having moved back into Gryffindor Tower, he was unable to sleep. He'd gotten so used to Draco's warm, lanky body pressed against him, wrapped around him, it felt wrong and off-putting to wake up alone, which made falling asleep hard.

Then there were the dreams in which he could feel the link flare to life, bombarding him with memories, wants, desires. Sometimes in them, he and Draco were in the shower and Draco was making snide remarks about how even magic wouldn't be able to fix Harry's hair. Sometimes they were sitting together quietly, reading. Most often, it was the single, shining moment of a kiss that lingered a moment too long in Harry's mind. He would wake up hard and aching and open up his side of the link to search for Draco, finding nothing but a void.

More disturbingly, he dreamed of Draco and Astoria, being walked down a white aisle by their parents, Draco struggling to get away while everyone smiled benignly at him. Once, he dreamt of Draco staring down at his face, a ribbon of blood dripping out of his mouth.

Better to stay awake, then.

He filled in the hole in his schedule left by Advanced Magical Theory - they wouldn't have a teacher to fill the position until after the winter hols - with Advanced Care For Magical Creatures so he could spend some time with Hagrid. With McGonagall's permission, he also added Advanced Muggle Studies. It wasn't a required course for him but the extra assignments kept his focus on schoolwork and he rather liked being able to tutor the students who'd been raised in wizarding homes.

The only downside was that Pansy was seated next to him in the class. so Harry had a running diatribe in his ear on her opinions of compulsory classes for Slytherins, of Muggles, of her new make-up charms, her wardrobe, whichever wizard she was seeing at the moment, and of course, on Draco.

"Draco's visiting his mother this weekend, again," she complained one day while Harry mixed some cookie dough for the cooking portion of their class and she stood by, refusing to help. "He visits her every weekend now, never spends any time with us anymore."

Harry tightened his mouth and told her to hand him a measuring cup.

They were budgeting for groceries using pounds instead of Galleons when she threw her hands up in exasperation. "I have lots of gold, why do I need to know this? It's not as if I'm going to run out of money - or have to buy my own supplies, I might add. We've all had house-elves since we were little. Draco used to make them pretend to be puppies."

Harry shook his head, pressing down too hard with his quill and watching helplessly as ink bled across the parchment.

They were cleaning the gloppy mess that the professor had conjured with rags and water and Muggle cleaning products - or, Harry was - when Pansy huffed, "I don't know why they don't just use cleaning charms."

"Muggles can't do magic, Pansy," Harry said, grinding his teeth.

"Well, they should hire people to do it for them." She paused to point her wand at a bit of goop on her skirt. It vanished. "Draco always says that the key to living a good life is having the sense to hire people to do the unpleasant things for you."

Harry slipped on a puddle of sludge at their feet and went down in a spectacular heap, banging his chin on the edge of the desk as he flailed and dropped to the floor.