The art of studying

Mikey moved into the study room with a quiet push on the door, the quiet click of it shutting softly behind him echoing far away in the largely deserted room. His arms were precariously full, between his books and a bundle wrapped in cloth that smelled of cinnamon, fresh bread, and perhaps even the very slightest hint of chocolate. The type of smell that made your belly realize it was hungry, even though it wasn't.

He looked around the room. Less than a half dozen students in the place, crouched over books or sleeping with smudges of ink on their faces. It was almost silent. Just the way he wanted it to be tonight. He saw Bree at the window, head on a mess of parchment, and seemed to be five minutes from an absolute meltdown. Quill dangling from one hand, the other tangled in her hair, she was the very picture of academic frustration. Mikey recognized the look. It was one he'd had himself a time or two this week.

He walked calmly walked over and placed his books on the table in front of her. A soft noise, but one that was noticeable enough to catch her attention. Then he sat down, carefully unwrapping the package, letting the fragrances of comfort and sweetness fill the air around them.

"I thought the Great Hall would be chaos," he said nonchalantly, unwrapping a steaming roll and tearing it in two with practiced ease. "So I went down to the kitchens instead. The elves were extra friendly, don't ask me why, I didn't want to risk spoiling it."

He presented the second half of the roll to her. And then he pointed to the little mountain he'd created: a piece of apple tart that still seemed warm, a couple of extra rolls, and something wrapped in wax paper which he'd circled around, like treasure. "There's fudge, too. Could be pumpkin. Could be possessed. No guarantees." He said trying to keep a straight face but knowing his eyes betrayed him.

He glanced at her after a moment, then aside to the paper on her desk. "So. what are you doing? Something exciting like, I don't know, secret love letters perhaps?" His lips curled into a mock smile, eyes glinting just hard enough to indicate he was joking. "Or writing an essay entitled 'Why Homework Is Gradually Consuming My Soul'?

Made by Ellie Randensmith


I was completely lost in thought when Mikey appears out of no where talking. I missed the first part of his sentence and only heard something about the kitchens and don’t ask about it. As he was talking he apparently also was unwrapping a roll and splitting it in two. Something I didn’t notice until he offered me a half.

“Thanks!” I say when he hands me the second roll. I take a nibble and listen to him talk. He points to the pile of food that he also brought with him. I laugh when he says the fudge could be possessed.

“Could the possessed fudge do my homework if I eat it? And thanks again for the roll. I was literally starving.” I smile at him and before I was about to say anything else he asks why I’m doing.

“Honestly right now I totally right an essay called ‘Why Homework Is Gradually Consuming My Soul'? And I have no clue why transfiguration is so hard right now. And this sucks bad. I have learned my lesson about not doing my homework in class because it was a terrible idea.” I smile at him, “So why are you here? Are you going to write secret love letters to someone? And if you are you have to tell me who it’s for.”

I laugh slightly as I look back at my homework. I’m so glad Mikey came in. I would’ve gone insane if he didn’t. I answer another question on my homework.

Mikey relaxed a little in his chair, arms crossed over his head as if he were in the common room instead of at a wobbly table in the study room. He laughed at what she said, that familiar flicker of friendship in his chest. Bree had a talent for wording things in just the manner Mikey wished he could word them.

"See, you're joking and like that, but if this fudge is actually haunted, It may have written your Transfiguration essay in Latin and jinx your quill for extra dramatic effect." He chewed on his share of roll before going on, "I don't even think Transfiguration's supposed to be understandable. It's like one minute it's, 'Just imagine the match into a needle,' and then the professor is questioning you because you imagined it into a spoon. Like sorry, I thought spoons were handy."

At her probe back regarding love letters, Mikey let out a snappy laugh, mock gasping and clapping a hand theatrically on his chest. "Me, writing love letters? What do you think I am a hopeless romantic? His smirk caught him. "Alright, maybe a little." But if I were to write one, it would be something like this, 'Dear Mystery Girl, Sorry for almost burning the table in Charms, but your laughter is worth all of that smoke and trouble."

He left the joke hanging for a second before shaking his head. "But seriously, no. I was in here to revise my History of Magic paper, which so far is just a one line summary that reads 'Wizards are weird.' Might actually use that and see how far I get with it." Then, quieter but earnest: "Happy I saw you, Bree. The whole room was beginning to feel like it needed… I don't know, oxygen or something." He pushed the fudge over toward her with a grin. "Your turn to take the risk."

Made by Ellie Randensmith


I laugh at his response. I talk while he eats his half of the roll, “Well maybe I’d get extra credit if my homework’s done in Latin. If the teachers feeling nice. And the jinxed quill? I’ll give it to someone I don’t like.”

He continues talking and I nod in agreement when he says transfiguration isn’t understandable.

“I know! Like could we transfigure it into something we want to? Or something useful?”

I laugh as he says his pretend love letter. “I hope she appreciates the smoke and trouble though.” He answers my question about why is he in here.

“History of magic? That comes easily to me. If ya want I could help you with it. And I don’t think the Professor would be very happy if you put ‘Wizards are weird’ they might be offended and fail you.”

I look down at my transfiguration homework. All of a sudden the questions that seemed like a jumbled mess became clear to me. I answer two more when Mikey speaks again.

I smile at him, “It’s good to see you again too. Sometimes we all just need a break from everything that’s important. Like homework. And we also need a break from being around a bunch of random people.”

He pushes the fudge over to me as his face breaks out into a smile. I smile brightly back at him as he says it’s time for me to risk it. I break a piece of and pop it into my mouth. I savor the taste before swallowing. Then I start acting as if it possessed me. I stop and burst out in laughter. “It’s possessed help!”

Mikey almost choked on the mouthful of roll he had still had in his mouth when Bree began her act. He snorted up his nose attempting to stifle it, then gave up entirely and let go with a full blown laugh. Oh no," he panted between laughs, sitting back in his chair like he might topple over. "I knew that fudge was good for something. Should have left it in its packaging and hidden it away in the Forbidden Forest or something".

He pressed a hand over his chest, dramatically. “Right. Don’t worry. If it starts talking in Latin or levitating your homework, I’ll tackle it. I’ve faced worse.” He glanced at her once more, smile still on his face. Her giggles filled the study room, and the darkness felt warm. The way it echoed off the shelves and rocks reminded him that Hogwarts wasn't just spells and rules and books it was people. It was times like this.

“You know”, he added "you've got good timing. I was beginning to think that I was the only person in here going crazy over homework and wondering why in the world we're even doing this. Less desperate with someone else sitting beside you laughing about it.".

He nudged her elbow gently with his. "And thank you for the offer to assist with History of Magic. I may take that one. Don't say it, though, I'm absolutely horrid at dates. Or names. Or being able to tell the goblin rebellions apart." He grinned self consciously. "They kind of blur together a bit."

He gazed at his blank parchment. Then at her, no longer worried. "So," he said, "what's your secret? You've got this relaxed but actually genius thing down pat. You're getting help from older students or naturally awesome at everything?" He rested his arm on the table, smiling.