No matter the time of day, Professor Binn's class was insufferably boring.
After lunch, his lectures were sheer torture. Oliver propped his head up
on his hand, fighting a losing battle with his eyelids. He held his quill
loosely in his left hand, occasionally writing down a date that meant
nothing to him. While he was staring out the window he felt a prickly
sensation down his spine, as if everyone was watching him, which was
absolutely the case. "Well, Mr. Wood?" Professor Binn asked.
Oliver floundered. He searched his brain for an answer, but couldn't ever remember the question. He was about to answer "Merlin's Mystical Shop of Wonders" when he heard a voice behind him. "1739," the girl whispered. "The Battle of Creamshanks was fought in 1739." Oliver nodded, then answered.
"Very good, Mr. Wood, but I think it would behoove you to start spending more time with us here in the classroom than out on the Quidditch pitch." Oliver's ears turned bright red, but he said nothing. For the rest of the class he sat in a miserable silence, bored out of his skull but not daring to look out the window. The seconds turned into minutes, the minutes into hours, the hours into years, and finally the class was over.
Coming out of that classroom was like breathing for the first time. Oliver took in a lungfull of the crisp October air and planned his next move. There was still some sunlight left; he could probably get in a good hour of flying in before it became too dark. He needed to work on a new blocking technique, and could probably get Alicia or Fred and George to help him. Oliver took a step towards the Gryffindor tower to get his broom when he noticed Angelina coming out of a classroom at the far end of the hall. She had her back to him, but he could tell that she was going to turn around any second.
Oliver froze like a squirrel. He wanted to scamper and hide, not feeling brave enough to stand up to one of Angelina's cutting remarks. There was nowhere to go and the hallway was empty; if he turned around and ran she would see him anyway. In desperation he noticed a door on the far side of the hallway. He made a dash for it and ran through the door without looking at where he was going.
The door led to the library. He moved through the rows of books, looking for a hidden corner he could stay in for a while. I probably should have come here in the first place, he thought. It's not like I don't have any studying to do. He headed for a table in the far corner, only to round a bookcase and discover it was occupied.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he said. The girl looked up, and he recognized her from his History of Magic class. Then he noticed the black thing in front of her. It had two sides like a folder, but was set up in a way so that one side was on the table and the other was propped up, facing the girl. It had a lot of silver things on the side, and a slit about three and a half inches long. The girl lowered the top of the black folder and looked at him expectantly. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I didn't mean to interrupt." The girl frowned and turned back to the thing on the table.
Oliver found a table and picked up a book about Arithmancy. He skimmed through it, but didn't pay much attention to it. His thoughts kept turning to the black thing, and it was driving him nuts. After thirty minutes he realized that he had only read two pages. Giving in to his curiosity, he put down the book and went back to the girl at the table.
"Excuse me," he said. "What exactly is that thing?"
The girl looked up again, startled. Then she smiled. "It's called a laptop," she said, obviously excited about her gadget. "It's a miniature computer." Oliver stared at her, completely lost. "I'm doing research for Advanced Muggle Studies," she explained. "Muggles use computers to help them do stuff, like write, talk to each other, or play cards." She turned the laptop around and Oliver could see a small set of Muggle playing cards on it. He reached out a finger to touch them, but only felt a flat screen. "They aren't real," she said. She moved her finger around a black square, and a white arrow moved on the screen. The cards moved when she clicked on them, and with a final click they all started to fly up towards the top of the screen. Oliver jumped back, then leaned closer for a better look.
"Wow," he said. This laptop thing was better than the Weasley twin's inventions. He moved his finger on the square and watched as the arrow swirled around the screen. He examined it closely, trying to figure out how it could be used for writing if there was no quill or scroll. Muggles, he thought. They always overlook the obvious. He heard the girl say something, but he was too distracted to make it out. "Huh?"
"I'm Morian Grey," she repeated. She hand was held out, and he shook it. Oliver looked at her again, and noticed her as a person for the first time instead of a piece of furniture or a body in the background. She had a forgettable face framed by thick glasses and brown hair, with pale eyes that matched her last name. Oliver smiled at her out of politeness, then turned back to the laptop. He was trying to figure out how to make the cards work when he noticed Magic and the History of Wizards stuck between Basic Potions, Level 5 and Arithmancy for the Modern Wizard in the pile of books on the table. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. Oliver knew how to improve his grades and get to play with the laptop some more at the same time.
"I was wondering," he said, "if you could help me with my homework sometime? I've been having such a problem lately, and Professor McGonagall's been getting on me to improve this term. I could really use the help of a tutor. Could you help me? I can pay you."
Morian narrowed her eyes. "You make is sound so indecent. Tell me, is it really that bad to have to hit the books after goofing off on your brooms for so long? You sports types are all the same. You come running to the smart people when you find out there's more to life than Quidditch." She packed up her books and got up from the table. Without a second glance, she stalked out of the library.
Now what did I do? Oliver thought.
Oliver floundered. He searched his brain for an answer, but couldn't ever remember the question. He was about to answer "Merlin's Mystical Shop of Wonders" when he heard a voice behind him. "1739," the girl whispered. "The Battle of Creamshanks was fought in 1739." Oliver nodded, then answered.
"Very good, Mr. Wood, but I think it would behoove you to start spending more time with us here in the classroom than out on the Quidditch pitch." Oliver's ears turned bright red, but he said nothing. For the rest of the class he sat in a miserable silence, bored out of his skull but not daring to look out the window. The seconds turned into minutes, the minutes into hours, the hours into years, and finally the class was over.
Coming out of that classroom was like breathing for the first time. Oliver took in a lungfull of the crisp October air and planned his next move. There was still some sunlight left; he could probably get in a good hour of flying in before it became too dark. He needed to work on a new blocking technique, and could probably get Alicia or Fred and George to help him. Oliver took a step towards the Gryffindor tower to get his broom when he noticed Angelina coming out of a classroom at the far end of the hall. She had her back to him, but he could tell that she was going to turn around any second.
Oliver froze like a squirrel. He wanted to scamper and hide, not feeling brave enough to stand up to one of Angelina's cutting remarks. There was nowhere to go and the hallway was empty; if he turned around and ran she would see him anyway. In desperation he noticed a door on the far side of the hallway. He made a dash for it and ran through the door without looking at where he was going.
The door led to the library. He moved through the rows of books, looking for a hidden corner he could stay in for a while. I probably should have come here in the first place, he thought. It's not like I don't have any studying to do. He headed for a table in the far corner, only to round a bookcase and discover it was occupied.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he said. The girl looked up, and he recognized her from his History of Magic class. Then he noticed the black thing in front of her. It had two sides like a folder, but was set up in a way so that one side was on the table and the other was propped up, facing the girl. It had a lot of silver things on the side, and a slit about three and a half inches long. The girl lowered the top of the black folder and looked at him expectantly. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I didn't mean to interrupt." The girl frowned and turned back to the thing on the table.
Oliver found a table and picked up a book about Arithmancy. He skimmed through it, but didn't pay much attention to it. His thoughts kept turning to the black thing, and it was driving him nuts. After thirty minutes he realized that he had only read two pages. Giving in to his curiosity, he put down the book and went back to the girl at the table.
"Excuse me," he said. "What exactly is that thing?"
The girl looked up again, startled. Then she smiled. "It's called a laptop," she said, obviously excited about her gadget. "It's a miniature computer." Oliver stared at her, completely lost. "I'm doing research for Advanced Muggle Studies," she explained. "Muggles use computers to help them do stuff, like write, talk to each other, or play cards." She turned the laptop around and Oliver could see a small set of Muggle playing cards on it. He reached out a finger to touch them, but only felt a flat screen. "They aren't real," she said. She moved her finger around a black square, and a white arrow moved on the screen. The cards moved when she clicked on them, and with a final click they all started to fly up towards the top of the screen. Oliver jumped back, then leaned closer for a better look.
"Wow," he said. This laptop thing was better than the Weasley twin's inventions. He moved his finger on the square and watched as the arrow swirled around the screen. He examined it closely, trying to figure out how it could be used for writing if there was no quill or scroll. Muggles, he thought. They always overlook the obvious. He heard the girl say something, but he was too distracted to make it out. "Huh?"
"I'm Morian Grey," she repeated. She hand was held out, and he shook it. Oliver looked at her again, and noticed her as a person for the first time instead of a piece of furniture or a body in the background. She had a forgettable face framed by thick glasses and brown hair, with pale eyes that matched her last name. Oliver smiled at her out of politeness, then turned back to the laptop. He was trying to figure out how to make the cards work when he noticed Magic and the History of Wizards stuck between Basic Potions, Level 5 and Arithmancy for the Modern Wizard in the pile of books on the table. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. Oliver knew how to improve his grades and get to play with the laptop some more at the same time.
"I was wondering," he said, "if you could help me with my homework sometime? I've been having such a problem lately, and Professor McGonagall's been getting on me to improve this term. I could really use the help of a tutor. Could you help me? I can pay you."
Morian narrowed her eyes. "You make is sound so indecent. Tell me, is it really that bad to have to hit the books after goofing off on your brooms for so long? You sports types are all the same. You come running to the smart people when you find out there's more to life than Quidditch." She packed up her books and got up from the table. Without a second glance, she stalked out of the library.
Now what did I do? Oliver thought.