It was a word Harry Potter hated.
It even sounded awful.
In between having potions poured down his throat, he discovered that he didn't really have anything to do.
So, it was like a breath of fresh air when Hermione Granger rushed in, moments before end-of-breakfast, and hurriedly shoved some notes at him. "These are the notes from yesterday. I tried to-"
Harry just beamed at her, "Thanks! I'd take anything over just laying about like a layabout." The words were out of his mouth before he realized they sounded more like Petunia than Harry. "Can you ask Ron to bring my textbooks before lunch? I'm likely to be done with the notes by then."
Hermione had smiled, and nodded, and flown out of the room in a breeze of curls.
Studying, Harry was learning, was different for him, than it was for Hermione Granger. Maybe it was more like Neville, Harry might ask sometime, if it came up. Harry wanted to pace, to feel his legs moving as things slotted into his head. Hermione was perfectly capable of studying straight, spending an entire afternoon sitting. Harry should know, he'd watched - and helped, being the runner into the stacks, pulling books as she requested.
He worked better with breaks, with air, with sunshine. Or darkness, but at least stretching his legs.
He hadn't really realized this before. Why? Well, he didn't really like studying - most children didn't.
By lunchtime, he was still struggling through Transfiguration. (Defense, predictably, did not have the type of homework you filled out.)
Ron lumbered in with not just Harry and his own books, but also carrying Lavender's on his back. It was... hilarious.
"How many copies is that?" Harry said with a wide grin.
"I dunno, at least three. Sometimes Parvati forgets a book, and Lav gets it for her." Ron said, then shuffled awkwardly, "I need to get some food in me so I don't act like a nancy in Charms."
"Later!" Harry said, not so upset about Ron's ever-hungry stomach (truth be told, Harry's was often hungry, he just ate less. He figured he might have a 'naturally smaller stomach' on account of food being withheld from him for days at the Dursleys).
Harry dove into the Potions book - it seemed like he never had enough time for studying. Maybe that was on account of running every morning, but... there were things more important than studying. Like practicing, Harry thought with a twinge from his leg. He really ought to read up on "how to detect muggle traps" - if there was a magical way, he wanted it. If there wasn't, he wanted the Muggle Way. Of course, if there really wasn't any Magical way, what reason would Snape possibly have for including such in his class.
Well, there was no earthly way to defend yourself from the Avada Kedavra either, and that got taught...
Maybe Harry should just ask. If he dared. Snape seemed more talkative about defense than about Potions. Harry couldn't decide if that was because Snape liked teaching it more, or because more of the students tried in Defense.
Nothing like a war on the stove about to whistle, to make everyone Wake Up in DADA.
[a/n: I dislike the abbreviation DADA. It makes me think of paintings, and that's disjointed from the class, entirely.
Harry might also take it that Snape's more likely to talk to him because he's putting more effort in.
Self-awareness is not your strong point, Potter.]