"Potter, what is that blasted contraption in your possession?"

It's been, oh I don't know, a good hour and thirty-eight minutes I've been trying to ignore this... this... this constant noise-inducing concoction Potter loves to make! Yes, I pride myself lasting as long as I have lasted (this is Potter and I am reputed to have a short fuse), but one can have only so much patience doing paperwork on two hours of sleep (which equals an even shorter fuse so congrats to me).

"You mean this?" He leans his chair back to a dangerous slope, looking at me upside down and stretching his arm to shove in my face a colorful cube.

"A cube! Are you seriously telling me THAT'S what's been causing all the ruckus coming from your side of the room?" As if I haven't lost enough sleep.

"No need to yell. And yes, Hermione gave this Rubix to me just this morning." To my amazement, he is able to move the squares around. To my annoyance, I find that moving those squares sounded off the clitter-clatter I have endured for an hour and three-fourths.

"Well knock it off; it's been distracting me and I would like to get this damned paperwork out of my hair. And are you really having such a hard time solving a stupid cube?" Honestly, how much brain power is needed to do something so mundane?

"I'm not. I've solved this thing like fifty times." Fifty times! Then why the hell did you keep it up, YOU INSOLENT MORON!

"Lemme see that thing. If you can do it, I can do it twice as fast."

A rare sneer graces his lips. "Knock yourself out."

I don't think too much of that sneer; we've been enemies for the majority of our school years and only just begun to have a (rough) friendship. Proving ourselves to each other is nothing out of the ordinary.

But only twenty minutes pass and I can see why in Merlin's name he was so smug. This damn thing is not as easy as it looked. And I knew for a damn fact Potter was soaking up my misery as his pleasure;"Don't even think about it, Malfoy" left his mouth when I was about to cast a self-solve spell. Curse him and his ways of manipulating me into my own humiliation.

Better yet, curse this damn knick-knack of his for giving him the opportunity to do so! "You damn muggles have to make the most ridiculous thing seem difficult. It's like Longbottom boiling water."

"I remember that spectacular fiasco." Neither of us needed to be reminded the details how that particular memory came to be. "How did you know it was a muggle toy?"

"Again, Potter; you damn muggles have to make the most seemingly ridiculously simple thing impossibly difficult."

Click click click click.

Click click click.

Click click.

Click.

Click click click.

Click click click click.

clickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclick

"GODDAMMIT POTTER HOW THE BURNING CAULDRONS DO YOU WORK THIS CURSED THING!"

As I wait for a response, I realized he was being abnormally quiet. Turning around to question the delayed response, I see he is no longer there, but his chair is facing me with another muggle item he called a 'Post-It note'.

HA HA you beetle dung

-Potter

P.S. I'm not telling

Why that little---"Potter, you are a DEAD MAN!"

Now I'll never get any sleep!