Harry Potter hated having to wait for things. And he wasn't allowed to throw Draco Malfoy at a wall and demand answers. Any answers at all, and Harry had a lot of questions. He wanted to know... well, everything. Why, how - Malfoy'd known, and despite Snape saying that it 'most likely' wasn't Harry's fault, Harry still wanted to dissect what was going on.

And, shite, Curt began to mentally review in his head his conversation with Snape. "Don't approach Malfoy. Let him come to you." Shite. That sounded like it was an invitation for 'never happening.' And not because Malfoy had simply decided to give up, either. Harry'd learnt that Snape didn't believe in rules, so much as he believed bending them was preferable to breaking them. And so, Snape might have simply decided to obliviate Malfoy, and to hell with subtlety.

It had certainly seemed like Malfoy hadn't told a single soul, and really - wasn't that the perfect setup for Obliviate?

Curt was not Harry Potter, and so wasn't allowed to aggressively stare at Malfoy until Malfoy felt like doing anything to stop the green-eyed menace. Nor was he allowed to start a pointless argument, or a fight, or even to yank Malfoy into the nearest broomcloset (not that Curt wanted to be doing that... with anyone, really.).

It was infuriating. Harry'd have to find something to do, even if it meant going to the library. Going to the library (as he well knew), was almost heartbreaking. He couldn't go over to speak with Hermione or even Ron - and they looked so... broken. Hermione struggling vainly to hold herself together just long enough to do her homework, and Ron, well, too listless to even resist when Hermione insisted that he work right alongside her.

Harry just felt pathetic, and he hated this helpless feeling. He idly pulled out a supplemental book to second year Transfiguration (he'd never gotten the theory quite right), and sat down to start studying. He sat openly, at one of the long line of tables in the center of the room. He liked the space - the stacks always felt a lot like his old cupboard under the stairs, and made him feel claustrophobic. Mostly. He didn't like to think about what they made him feel like otherwise.

[a/n: Snape didn't really think very hard about telling Harry to sit tight. Harry's not so good at sitting tight.]