Disclaimer: The wonderful and talented J.K. Rowling has dibs on the characters and the majority of everything else. I do however own this particular variation so if you'd kindly not steal and claim as your own, I'd be grateful.

Part 2

"Psst, 'mione?" Harry hissed, as he prodded her again while watching Professor Johnston sit at her desk scrawling on a piece of parchment, clearly occupied enough not to hear him, or at least tolerant enough to just ignore him.

"What?" Hermione muttered back, her voice just reaching him from the way she only just inclined her head to the side to regard him in a tone that was neither approving nor happy.

"I need to ask you something," Harry whispered, and he noticed Ron look up from next to him, out the corner of his eye, he was clearly curious why he didn't ask him. Harry ignored him however and waited on Hermione's response. This was not something he could talk to Ron about

That however was drowned out by the new voice that he had forgotten to look out for, for just a second, "Mr Potter, I do hope that you realise I am not hard of hearing and am very much aware of you bothering Miss Granger. Do I need to move you away from the temptation of your friends to stop you from disrupting the peaceful silence?" Professor Johnston asked suddenly in her uptight voice, making Harry jerk into a straight sitting position as a blush crept up the back of his neck.

"Er, no Professor, sorry Professor," Harry said, sliding down in his seat as a few fellow students turned back to look at him, some amused, others annoyed for the disruption from their work. Professor Johnston nodded sharply and tilted her head back down to her parchment.

Harry's eyes caught a pair of grey ones that were turned to look at him and found himself unable to look away. Malfoy's face was blank; an expression he always used towards Harry, which confused the later to no end. Why couldn't he just snarl or scowl like he used to? If he did that, maybe, just maybe Harry could go back to that bubbling frustration and anger he used to feel while just looking at the Blond, before the end of the war. Malfoy blinked, once, twice before he turned back and continued to scribble on his parchment leaving Harry to stare at the back of the golden head.

Harry looked down at his own parchment and saw it was completely blank, he had expected at least some words to be written there but, obviously he had been too pre-occupied and really he couldn't have seriously thought that they'd magically appear if he just looked at the paper did he? An idea struck him and he quickly dipped his quill into his ink before scribbling out a short note on the end of his parchment.

'Mione,

Is there a spell or a charm or a potion even, to stop someone thinking?

He slipped out his wand from his pocket and slowly levitated the folded piece of parchment with one careful eye on Professor Johnston to make sure she didn't notice. He made sure it hovered over the top of Hermione's hand, that had froze in scribbling as soon as she saw it out the corner of her eye showing him that his attempt to attract only her attention had worked. Her head inclined to him again, but didn't lift up enough for Professor Johnston to notice. He watched anxious, as Hermione plucked the paper out of the spell and read the note, then scribbled back in response.

You've quite clearly found it if there is, what are you thinking? You're going to get caught again.

Harry gritted his teeth. It wasn't the answer he was looking for. He scowled and poked Hermione in the back again, harder this time, right between the shoulder blades, to show that he was looking for a better answer. He slouched back into his seat when he felt Professor Johnston's eyes on him again. He sighed and pulled his transfiguration book back to him, to read it for real this time.

He had to have read the same line five times before he gave up and let his head fall onto his desk. To say he was glad this was just a revision class would be an understatement. He just couldn't focus, and it didn't even have anything to do with his lack of sleep. Well it did, but only in a round about way.

Even though Harry had spent the best part of seven years obsessing, for the lack of a better word, over Malfoy, it was now different. For one, he had no reason to think about him and what he could possibly be doing, for he had publically declared to have converted over to the good side, cut all ties with his father and any other Death Eater he had previously had contact with. And finally it was different now. His curiosity wasn't to the goal of getting Malfoy into trouble or beating him at a challenge anymore. It was a strange warm kind of obsession; it was more than just a habit, it had only just dawned on him moments before that it was an obsession.

This was why he was asking Hermione about the spell, he needed to stop thinking about this, it was both worrying and he was sure it was probably unhealthy on some level too. Who really wanted to think about Malfoy? He either found magic to help him or a distraction. He was hoping his friends would help him with either.

He pulled his head back up when he felt something brush his arm, he looked to find a new piece of parchment and Hermione's head inclined to him and her hand stilled. He quickly unfolded it.

There isn't anything like that apart from Obliviate, and even then that's only a memory charm not to do with thoughts so to speak, as far as I know anyway. Why are you so interested in this?

He sighed. So much for magic being the answer to everything, if Hermione didn't know about it then it wasn't worth knowing. He would have to rely on a distraction, which he had been hoping he wouldn't have to think about either, for he wouldn't know where to start. He scrunched up the piece of parchment, not bothering to respond, for he really didn't want to open that can of worms, especially not with Hermione.

He rested his head in his hand, supported by the elbow on his desk and picked his quill up again, finally deciding to do something. And that was when the thought struck him, he'd focus on his work. NEWTs were this year and he really needed to buckle down. Even though his future was set out for him, he still wanted to have options. Hermione always managed to be distracted by school work so why couldn't he?

Just as he put the quill tip to his parchment Professor Johnston stood and announced that it was the end of the lesson and they could pack their things away. He groaned and cursed to himself as he did as he was told and the rest of the class rippled into conversation, a harsh contrast to the silence it had been only seconds before hand. He had finally been motivated to work and was interrupted. He needed to hold onto that motivation or he'd loose it and be unable to concentrate on anything, it would be sixth year all over again, only with no speculation behind his motives of being interested in Malfoy.

Hermione turned after packing her things away but Harry dodged her by mumbling something about a forgotten potions book and hightailed it out of the class as quickly as he could. He had a free space in his timetable now and he planned to use it wisely and for once he was glad he had it on his own, away from his two best friends.