Sapphire Owls. House for academics. You were subconsciously surprised. You spent your entire life being top of your classes, but always wondered why. You studied, but it must have been natural genius. You had one fatal flaw. Procrastination. And yet, you were in the top two of your all your classes. You would forever be below Lawrence Bluer, and for a good reason. He was a prefect. The best in the entire school for his own house's speciality.
What surprised you though, was that on the day before a written essay was due, Lawrence was in the library. That alone did not alert you, no, it was rather natural. In fact, the Sapphire Owls had their own library, with almost just as many books as the school's official library. What had you alerted was simply deduction. The books you required for information on this specific essay were on Bluer's table. All of them.
There was only one solution, and you hoped it wouldn't be considered rude. You slipped into the seat across from him, pulling out some paper and a pen from your bag. Since he didn't speak to you, you didn't speak back. Once you had put the words such as your name and date on, you motioned towards one of the books Bluer had.
The prefect looked up at you before adjusting his glasses. He then nodded, lightly pushing the books to the centre of the table. Upon any other day, he would have scolded you for waiting until last minute. But how could he when he was in the same problem as you?
You both worked silently for a few hours, and you rewrote a final copy. Once you did you closed up you books and looked up at your prefect. He was still engrossed in writing, and had two pages less than you. He was still writing though, speed meant nothing.
You picked up your bag and without a goodbye left, not wanting to disturb. When you were gone he gave a light frown though. How did you finish your work so quickly? You must have simply had a lesser quality of work then. But most of himself just scolded himself like a mantra. He should have done this essay sooner. It would be a long night.
Bluer got his essay back with a 94% on top of it. He felt content with it and wondered briefly how you did. Surely you had gotten less then him. After all, you would always be second to him.
"And you got perfect, then only one."
Professor Michaelis placed a your essay in front of you and you beamed. Finally you had risen upwards to be top of the class. Bluer refused to look at you and you looked over his shoulder to see his mark.
"That's what you get for procrastination."
"You finished your own essay last minute, that is not the problem."
"No, then what is?"
Bluer stopped his words before they came out. 'I was too distracted by you sitting across from me'. You smiled at the fact he, for once, did not have the answer. You then focused back on your work as the professor began teaching another course in Latin. Bluer merely hid his head behind his book, but still kept glancing over at you. For him, the problem was not procrastination. It was the distractions which caused that procrastination.