"Oh, yeah?" Harry quirked, eyes immediately drawn back up at Malfoy. There was no note of doubt in the question, only a sense of surprised admiration.<br/>Harry's eyes flickered between Malfoy's, though he wasn't looking for any signs that Malfoy might be pulling his leg; clearly not, for when Harry's eyes returned to the paper, he could easily recognize the French floruishes of the language.<br/>Trailining a finger beneat a sentence, Harry realized how unfamiliar a foreign language could look in script rather than in print. Malfoy's notes were neat and impecably cursive.<br/>"How posh," Harry commented, as he straightened his posture, fingers leaving the tabletop. When his eyes found Malfoy, the glint in his eye promised it was only a tease. "That's brilliant. Do you prefer French?"<br/>The question was accompanied by a nod in the general direction of the notes. Harry didn't think there was any probability that Malfoy was fearful of anybody peering over his shoulders, having on good authority that Malfoy had probably worked alone for the entirety of the past decade.