"I dunno who I'd choose," Harry said, stretching his arms up over his head. "Divine Right of Kings was Hobbes, yeah? I dunno. He believed that humans by nature are wicked, evil, and selfish."

Hermione bit her bottom lip, tapping her quill against her right cheek. "John Locke believed humans weren't born with inborn ideas, Harry. He believed that they got their ideas from the experiences they've had during life. Like they had a blank slate, and as time passed that slate filled with both good and bad experiences," she paused, sucking on the feather tip of her quill. "Well, then there's Rousseau. He believed that reason and science were used to make humans good and follow laws made by monarchs. He also believed that humans, by nature, are good."

Harry took off his glasses, set them on the table, and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. "I don't get it though. Hobbes believed that because humans were apparently wicked by nature we can't trust them to govern themselves. So, the Divine Right of Kings was set up. An absolute monarchy, which accordingly was the best form of government. Long live the queen," he said, unenthusiastically raising one hand over his head before putting his glasses back on. "So far I'm liking Locke best. Civil liberties and the separation of church and state, whatever that means."

"It means that the church and the government aren't working together," Hermione sighed. "The church doesn't run the government," she added, before scribbling that down on to her paper. "All right so, you're going with Locke then? Right. I'll go with Rousseau, and that leaves Ron with Hobbes. Brilliant, and our papers are due Thursday next week - so we have little less than a week to finish. Should be enough time."

He nodded his head before leaning back in his chair. This may have been a university for magic, but something had compelled him to take government. True, it was magical government, but that didn't stop their professor from having them write a three page paper on one of three social contract theorists. He wasn't to thrilled to have to do this, he'd already done it once before in the States in the university he'd been attending, but only because Draco forced him into taking the class because he had sort of dragged the other boy with him to the states. Well, not even dragged. They sort of agreed.

However, now that he sat there in the university's library across from Hermione he had trouble keeping his head from dropping onto the table. He just continued to stare at his blank scroll of parchment, fumbling his quill in his hands. In five more days he knew that he would be even more tired than this, and that was what bothered him so much. For a good amount of time he had plenty of energy, some would even consider calling him hyper, but in the days leading up to a full moon he was completely drained and his attention somewhere else. He was always too busy worrying that something might happen during the night not to mention there was the little issue of avoiding being caught. That would make the perfect picture; Harry Potter the Boy Who Lived found out to be a werewolf. He would be in for hell if that happened.

When Hermione shifted in her seat across from him Harry looked up, boggling at her paper. She already had one page down. "You're fast like a freak, Hermione," he commented, nodding his head to her paper. "Just thought you'd like to know.

Blinking, Hermione rolled her eyes. "We had a whole lecture on them, Harry," she pointed out. "It really was enough information to get at least a page written. Sadly, the rest I'll have to look up. You should be doing the same. Why haven't you started yet?

Harry flushed, biting down on the inside of his cheek. "I guess I'm just a bit tired," he said, running his hands through his hair, as though it would wake him up some. "Malfoy's been trying to keep up with the going ons at the Ministry because of the way they're coming down with new laws restricting vampires and werewolves even more. I think he just wants a job in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. He thinks he may be able to make a change in getting the minister to veto these new laws or something."

"It's not likely that he will be able to, Harry," said Hermione, leaning forward on her elbows. "The Pest Advisory Board, which people go to report vampires who are causing problems, is teaming up with the Werewolf Capture and Registry unit. There's been talk, of course, of the Pest Advisory Board using vampires to capture and kill out of hand werewolves and possibly unregistered werewolves. It's absolutely absurd ."

"But why would they use vampires of all creatures?"

"Harry, a vampires blood can kill a werewolf if their blood gets into the werewolf's system." Hermione bit her lip. "They've already tested it in the past. Three months ago to be exact. Remus was furious when he heard, saying that all werewolves wanted was to be considered normal people despite their infection. Which, of course, they are. If taking the Wolfsbane Potion they're harmless, you've seen for yourself just before you left."

Harry wasn't sure what he wanted to do more, yell about the rights that werewolves deserved or hand himself over to Werewolf Registry and see what they would do when they found out he was a werewolf. It really wasn't himself he was worried about though. He knew what the punishment was for infecting a human being, and Harry remembered very clearly who had infected him. But it had been an accident, however, the ministry wouldn't see it as such - they wouldn't care.

He glared down at his parchment angrily, unawares that he was doing it. Why didn't people see that all werewolves wanted were too be looked at like they were normal people? It wasn't fair. There was no cure to the infection, and none of them had actually asked to be infected. During the full moon was when the wolf mind took over, the human mind was at a loss to do anything unless there was Wolfsbane involved. His quill snapped, covering his fingers in thick, sticky black ink. It took him a minute or two before he finally realized that he had been gripping his quill to tightly, and his thumb snapped it.

"Sorry, Hermione," Harry said quickly. He stood up, all but throwing his things back into his bag. "I'll work on the paper later, but right now I've got to talk with someone," he finished, quickly darting out of the library in which they had been discussing social contract theorists and the latest happenings at the Ministry of Magic.

Harry didn't quite know why, but as he sped up on the way back to the loft, his eyes began to burn with tears that wouldn't shed. He knew he wasn't supposed to be this upset, but he was. He wanted to be angry at Hermione, but he couldn't. It wasn't because of her this was happening, but she was the one who had told him. He needed to see Remus, but he couldn't, not just now. It was too early. Harry squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, willing the burning sensation of tears refusing to fall to go away, and clenched his hands into balled fists around the strap of his book bag. He finally reached the loft.

For a moment the nineteen year old fumbled with the key, and pounded on the door once before finally getting the key into the hole. With a soft click, the door unlocked and he threw it open, slamming it closed behind him.

"Malfoy!" He called, dropping his bag to the floor. "C'mon, c'mon - be home, please be home," he pleaded quietly, looking around franticly. He could feel his fingernails digging into his palm, and he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. "Malfoy! Malfoy!"

He paced back and forth uneasily, digging his nails deeper into the flesh of his palm until it was painful, but he didn't stop. He couldn't.

"Holy Merlin, Potter, calm down!" Came Draco's voice from his bedroom door.

Harry swallowed thickly. "I'm going mad," Harry said, in a moment of clarity. "I swear, I'm going bonkers. The things the Ministry is doing to and about werewolves! Bleeding hell, Malfoy, have you heard? They're killing unregistered werewolves for Merlin's sake! We should have stayed in the states. I should have stayed in the states-"

Suddenly there was a strong hand gripping the back of Harry's throat and something inside Harry broke through his daze of panic and recognized that hand for what it was. Harry dropped to the carpet of the loft, his body still as he stared up at Draco's gray eyes.

"Your little wolf still knows when to calm," Draco said, his hand tightening around Harry's throat. "You won't be able to solve anything if all you can do is throw a tantrum, Potter."

Harry swallowed and unconsciously leaned his head back, baring his throat, wincing inwardly. He truly hated when Draco would do this to him, but it did calm him down even if all it did was to prove that in some way that Draco was in charge.

When the older boy released Harry's throat slowly, Harry just stared down at the floor, breathing in and out slowly. "It's not right," he said hoarsely, looking up half way, not able to meet his roomies eyes again. "We were better off in the states."

Draco sighed and moved to the couch, and sat down. "You've got to face your problems as they come, Potter. You've run from them once already, you can't do it a second time."

Defeated and still on his knees, Harry tilted his head back once more, this time to stare up at the ceiling. "Can't I though?" He asked, standing up. He moved to sit beside Draco on the couch, curled up, and rested his head on his lap, staring down at the carpet before them. He didn't know why he did just that, but he did.

Draco turned slightly, looking down at the younger boy, both eyebrows raised. "What are you doing?"

Harry closed his eyes. "I don't know, trying to rest. What does it look like?"

"Like you're using my lap as a pillow, puppy."

"Bugger off."