"Malfoy give me back my notebook, now!" growled an annoyed raven, with just an under tone of nervousness as he reached for the leather bond journal with alarming hast.

Emerald orbs reflected more emotions then in that one moment, then they had every shown before.

"What's wrong Potter? I was under the impression Gryffindor's were all about the sharing business. I guess you one of the selfish ones…or perhaps, there's some mammoth secret that you don't want me to read?" the blond feigned a tone of mocking hurt, and seriousness.

He held the tattered notebook in and out of range of the shorter male, with the goal to irritate him until he gave up, negotiates a price, or asked sweetly enough …which didn't seem as though it would be happening any time soon.

Come on Malfoy, I'm ganna be late, and I'm not in the mood to get detention just because of you", Harry tried hard not to sound whiny, but he was going to be beyond late for potions.

Meaning every 10 seconds he was late, would be 5 house points and every 30 seconds a detention. 'No! This just isn't fair… I just can't get one bloody break' he thought, with a sense dark humor.

"Hmm, I think I should just read it now. Since your so determined to get it back and all", the silver eyes shone with a glee of unquenched thirst, wanting nothing more at that moment but to guzzle down the secrets held within the leather bond pages.

Still his frown stood on his face contemplating, and a luminous went off in his head with the perfect scenario. If he played his chess pieces just right, he would have Potter corned.

The boy-who-lived knew that unless some natural disaster happened within the next minuet causing the blond to A) be blown away B) need to fix his hair back to being impeccable, or C) burning the book which he seriously considering acendo-ing himself if the git didn't hand it over. However as quick as that thought had come it was vanquished into a black hole of 'Don't You Ever Think About That Again'. As the notebook was an heirloom that his godfather had passed down to him as a gift that held a promise of always being connected.

It was a book that worked 2 ways, to communicate between two or more people who held a copy of the book. He knew almost every pure blooded family had 5 to start out with, but his godfather had told him most pure bloods didn't use them anymore after the fire calling was discovered. Most families sold their journal or lost them, so now nine centuries later only 17 are left scattered about still in use.