[hp] stellarum miniscule


Hermione is very good at Charms in a coolly efficient, I've-read-the-textbook-and-practiced kind of way. Ron gets some first time, but some require a bit of coaching. Harry thinks Charms are so easy it's pointless. You learn the words, the intonation, and the motivation. That's it.

Even hexes don't require too much effort. Simple charms Harry can do without his wand now, although he makes sure that not many people know that. Flitwick, obviously catering to the late-afternoon-Friday mood, is teaching the class an assortment of pointless Appearance Charms. Hair colour, freckles, that sort of thing. Seamus is entertaining himself by colouring Neville's fingernails all shades of pink. Lavender, in a rare display of a sense of humour, is giving all the Slytherins mustaches and beards as quickly as she can before they charm them off again.

The only charm that Harry has bothered with is the Glitter spell. He's sitting up in the back row behind Hermione and Ron, who are painstakingly changing each other's eye colour - so they say. Requires a lot of gazing, by the look of it. Harry is lying on the desk, his head resting on his wrist, looking along the length of his wand. It's pointed along the back row to where Draco is sitting, trying to teach Crabbe how to get rid of his sideburns.

Stellarum miniscule, Harry murmurs, and a cloud of tiny points of light swarm towards Draco's head. Harry moves his wand slightly, shuts one eye and aims the charm again. And again. Waits.

Draco inclines his head to glance at the glittery specks flittering all around him. He reaches up and runs his hands through his hair. Stares at the gleaming sparkles, turning his palms over to watch the light flecks skitter like miniscule moths. Harry whispers the charm once more so Draco can see where it's coming from and when the flickering cloud shoots across the back row Draco snaps around to stare hard at Harry.

Harry presses his lips together to stop from smiling, but can't help it. He winks at Draco, who is gaping openmouthed, his hands fluttering questioningly in the air.

The class ends. Draco stays seated, looks askew at Harry, and shies back in his chair when Harry saunters over.

"What..."

Harry perches on the desk in front of Draco, and for a moment Draco thinks Harry is going to slap him. Or pet him. Harry's hand swooshes through the air, catching the sparkles, holding them between cupped hands. "Fairy dust." He grins.