"Oh. Huh."

Apparently, he in fact did not. He shrugs.

"Nobody tells me this stuff."

That response is odd but then, so is everything about Z. "You are not going to ask why a muggleborn is taking Muggle Studies?" 

"For the easy 'Outstanding'?"

Not quite, but Sasha isn't sure he wants to explain the real reason to a boy he met two days ago, however friendly. 

"Almost," he says, and turns to the board. 

Today they're talking about the barest basics: who's heard of electricity, telephones, television, movies, the atom bomb. None of these things are new to Sasha. He takes diligent notes anyway. 

Z has his hand up practically every minute, and the professor grows increasingly weary deflecting him. Half of the questions he asks are for another lesson, and half of them, it’s easy to guess, the professor doesn’t know the answer to.

His notes appear to be half-note, half-doodle, even so.

Aww. 

Sasha whispers the answers that he both knows and can explain in English, which is slightly less than half of them. 

Everything Sasha tells him makes it onto the paper, some with little arrows to indicate its particular importance.