Harry looked down at himself. He hadn't bothered to clean himself up - hadn't even thought much beyond his sudden desperate need for caffeine. He had become so used to people staring at him that he hadn't even registered the funny looks he'd gotten in the break room. He sighed.
"No, I've got it," he said, setting his coffee down and retrieving his wand. He waved it. Most of the ink remained. He frowned and tried again. Nothing. He sighed. "All right. Maybe I don't. You were always better at these." Never mind that it was a simple cleaning spell that he should have no trouble casting. Obviously his nerves were affecting him.
He stole a chair from the unoccupied desk nearest Hermione's and sat down on it. "I am having a bad day," he admitted to her, sipping his coffee. "I hope you're having a better one."