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Having History of Magic at the end of the day wasn’t an ideal situation for anyone. It was nearly the end of the first term and the Slytherins were positively restless. No one was taking notes anymore, and Professor Binns hardly noticed. He sat… or floated, rather, at his desk, lecturing on and on, reading off his first year lesson plans to his fourth years. No one dared say anything because no one wanted to pay attention to a new lesson anyway.

Lucius sat next to his friend Danford, who had fallen asleep against his textbook. Malfoy’s gray eyes remained transfixed on the window behind Professor Binns’ desk. His mouth was agape and his hand was starting to go numb from its constant stillness. A quill dropping a row across from him snapped him out of his reverie and back into the stuffy classroom.

Narcissa Black’s hand retrieved the dropped quill. Her nails were painted a fierce red, camouflaging with the red feather she picked up. Lucius watched her brush the dust off the quill and twirl it in her fingers idly. Every once in a while, she would pretend to write something down before returning to her pen twirling. She pulled out a small crimson compact and checked her reflection, pursing her lips and fluffing her hair. Satisfied, she put the mirror back in her school bag and sat, staring at the front of the classroom.

As if she felt eyes upon her, she looked in Lucius’ direction. Their eyes met for half a second before Lucius jerked away and nudged his friend awake again. Narcissa raised an eyebrow and faced front again, twirling the red quill between red fingernails.