A/N: This fic is very short because it was originally written as a drabble for another site. I considered expanding it, but I really can't see much else to add. Enjoy!

P.S: It's not supposed to make sense. Life doesn't, as a rule.

Harry sighed. Again. His lungs were beginning to hurt him by now.

"Look, if you don't want to learn this, then why are you forcing me to help you?" His voice rose hysterically as he spoke. He swallowed hard. I will not go insane. I will not go insane. I will not go insane. The mantra repeated itself over and over in his melting brain.

Dudley eyed him suspiciously. "I told you. If I don't pass this test, they'll kick me off all the sports teams and I'll have to take rem – redem – " his thick lips moved in the agony of semi-intelligence "– extra classes." He glared at Harry, his face scrunched up so that his eyes looked like crushed bluebottles. "And if you don't help me, I'll tell Dad that your owl ate his favourite pair of socks."

"That wasn't her fault!" Harry hissed. "From the air they looked just like pigeons."

Dudley grinned. The overall effect was too horrible to describe. Let's just say it involves gorillas, diamonds and a paper shredder. It was all too clear that Harry was at his mercy. By the time Hedwig was through with those socks, they were holier than St. Patrick's toenail.

"So tell me again."

I will not go insane.

"Okay. You see this number here?" Dudley peered to where his finger was pointing.

"The fat one?"

I will not go–

"No. The thin one. This is called the number one."

"Why?"

I will–

Harry gritted his teeth painfully. "It just is, okay?"

Dudley sat back in his chair. It creaked ominously. "I don't get it."

Insane.

He forced a bright smile onto his. "It's called the number one because ... well… it's got only one line. See?" Insane.

Dudley's brow furrowed, sending a tsunami of fat down his face. "But–"

"And this is the number two" Harry gabbled. The smile had made a few bad choices in life and now made a living as a manic grin. Seeing the next question coming, he continued. "And it's called that because–"

"Oh, I know!"

Relief nearly washed Harry away. Maybe soon this madness would end, before he was reduced to a gibbering mess. "Yes, Dudley?"

"It's because it's got two letters in it, right? Tuh and oh."

Harry'd brain hid in a corner and cried. "Very good, Dudley. Now, if I add two "– he held up two fingers – "and one" – he held up his thumb – "how much do I have?"

Dudley looked crushed by the weight of this extraordinarily convoluted mathematical equation. "Um … wait…" Suddenly, his face cracked into an evil grin. Picture two continents separating, and you get the general idea. "Hey, I know this one! You can't trick me! The answer is two, because your thumb isn't a finger! Hah! Harry?"

Harry had discovered it was indeed possible to knock yourself out by banging your head on a table.