Lecture? Try Textbook PV Wes Hart Closed

Wesley was really trying his hardest to concentrate on the Transfiguration professor. But it was actually rather difficult to, especially since there were pupils not paying attention - you know - some were whispering or passing silly notes, and others were staring absent-mindedly at the country around Hogwarts outside. He glanced at a girl who was sat next to him; not surprisingly, she was not properly paying attention either. Instead of really looking at the Professor’s markings on the board, she seemed to be lost in a textbook - or a normal book - of some sort that was kept in her lap.
He stretched his back up, into a perfect posture, from being slunched (and it felt satisfying but ached), and diverted his eyes to focus completely on the book that girl was reading. Wes didn’t want to seem too obvious, so he hunched his back once again, and looped his fingers into eachother.
The Transfiguration Professor - Professor Yornikovych - turned back around to look (and glare) among his classroom full of students. He didn’t seem to spot the girl, though. Wes once again diverted his eyes, to Mr Yornikovych’s chalk board, and Yornikovych himself. Quickly, the professor turned around, his robe nearly knocking a student sat a the front’s quill onto the cobble floor of Hogwarts. Wesley glanced back at the girl, before silently tearing a large corner off his parchment notebook and scribbling down something on it. What are you reading? he had written. Wes nudged the girl with the back of his hand and lay the note in front of her on her desk, eyes not leaving the professor.
Personally, Wes did not want to turn into one of those unintelligent students who gossiped and passed notes in class; but why else should some pupil not want to focus in class unless whatever they were doing was really, certainly interesting (and perhaps important).

Aha. The girl grinned a little as she smoothed down the page, pulling it taut as she flipped just one more sheet of paper, pulling it taut as she turned it to avoid the noise of it crinkling. She jumped slightly as something came in contact with her shoulder, the chair whining slightly against the hard ground, looked up from her craned to find a tiny ripped corner of some parchment or another set on the wooden desk in front of her.

Cel shifted, stifling a yawn as she felt her bones crackled. One of these days Parker is going to kill you for your bad posture. In no hurry, she reached forward to palm the slip off the surface of the desk, her other hand keeping her place in the book, then squinted at the handwriting in still-drying ink.
What are you reading?

Hmph. A note-passer. Probably not one of those note-passers, due to the nature of the question, but still... a note-passer.

The girl extended a hand to snatch her quill of the desk with both fingers, grimacing as a dot of ink dripped onto her parchment, and pulled her sleeve up with her other hand to avoid it dipping into the wet ink. A torrent of frustration ran over her mind as she saw that she had lost her page yet again-- but she scribbled down, Our textbook. It's interesting.

Cel passed it back, then nudged the other boy on the arm.

Wes put on the act that he was paying attention and was concentrating (what he wanted to be doing in the first place). He was awaiting a tap on his shoulder, or the sound of another piece of parchment (or other paper type) sliding onto or being dropped quietly on his desk. On his arm, he felt a nudge or tap and he looked to the girl, expecting the reply on paper. The girl, who had dark brown hair and pinkish skin, dropped the reply note into Wesley’s hands, and he looked down at it.
In black, slightly blotchy letters, on the paper it read: Our Textbook. It’s Interesting.
He looked at the girl, nodded, and then smiled. He mouthed to her, how so?, hoping she was paying attention to him - in a way - how she was not paying attention to Yornikovych.
Wes turned back to the teacher, playing an act once more.
The professor began slowly erasing all of his diagrams and jottings off of the board. He walked to his desk and gathered a pile of papers. He was about to explain the wonderful, brilliant, amazing Homework. He explained how, for this certain task, his students would be paired up.
Different students handed out the sheets of paper to their class mates, and, afterwards, sat down to listen to Professor Yornikovych pair up the students

Out of the corner of her eye, Cel found the boy mouthing something at her. She shifted her gaze slightly to the side to focus on his lips. Loud oh? it seemed he was trying to say before turning back to Professor Yornikovych. She narrowed her eyes, quite unsure that she had comprehended the words correctly, then widened them as she laughed at herself inwardly. How so. How in the world had she seen loud oh?

The girl merely gave a shrug. It was a book-- bound to be interesting. A book about Transfiguration, no less. Casting her differently colored eyes toward the boy to look for a response, she sighed as she realized he had his gaze pointed straight ahead at the chalked diagrams scribbled on the blackboard. It was likely he hadn't even noticed the small movement of her shoulders-- quite honestly, Cel suspected that even if he had been looking, he might not have seen the shift among her constant shifting. The chairs at this school were so hard and square and antique; she could never find a comfortable position.

Perhaps Cel could respond on paper like she had before? As long as the scratching of her quill on paper wasn't noticed, it would work; she knew that several other students passed notes, though she never commented on it. She herself rarely did; either she would be reading or actually listening, as everyone should be, anyway. Cel looked around, realizing that the scrap of paper was now in the other boy's possession and beyond her reach. Perhaps if she reached over to take it... but no, if she did that, she might be noticed by the professor pacing in the front of the classroom. Not to mention that was strange. Who would reach over and just pluck a random piece of paper from someone's fingers? If Professor Yornikovych didn't notice, one of her classmates might, and who knew what they might do? And what if the boy reacted while she tried to take the parchment and caused their note-passing to be noticed? Such embarrassment!

Instead, the girl took a corner of her own parchment, laid out on her desk for notetaking but generally untouched. Only a couple of sentences had been printed at the top, the last one unfinished-- she had begun taking notes before realizing that she had already read the material before in the textbook. Cel had considered taking the notes anyway, but seeing as the Professors never exactly checked whether or not the notes were actually taken-- they were probably just for completing homework or something--she neglected to write anything down. So she had set her quill down, hoping that the Transfiguration professor wouldn't comment on the stagnancy of her inkwell.

Turning her hand so the corner was folded, she pinched the parchment hard as she turned it, wincing as the sound of tearing paper seemed all too loud in her ears. Cel continued the tear, bit by bit until at last the corner came free, and she placed it down on the desk. After dipping her quill lightly in her inkwell, sending a progression of undulation rippling in the tiny pool of black liquid, she scribbled down in slightly messier handwriting than before: Well, it's the same thing as what Professor Yornikovichych is or will be teaching. I find it interesting, at least.

Attempting to further dry the ink so it wouldn't smudge as much, Cel blew on its surface, causing the ink to run upward slightly, then dropped it in front of the other boy's desk. Hopefully, he would notice it, though with his rigid stare forward it didn't seem like that might happen... the girl nudged him on the arm, cutting her eyes toward the paper.

As Cel turned her gaze back toward the front, she noticed the student ahead of her tossing back a sheet of paper. Shooting a dirty look at his back as it flew past her desk and landed on the ground beside it, she leaned down to pick it up. Hmm... a project, describing the Branches of Transfigurations.