Hey! This is for a challenge! I won't bore you, so enjoy!:)


Snape hurried in, robes billowing behing him. He fell to the floor, leaning over Malfoy and muttering incantations. The crimson blood seeped back towards his shirt, receding back to his body. Harry would have done something, to help, but what could he do? He didn't dare ask Snape, he'd probably get a cutting remark about how he'd done enough already. He stood, rooted to the spot, not knowing what had just happened. One minute, he and Malfoy were exchanging hexes, the next, Malfoy was bleeding all over the previously pristine white tiled floor. Moaning Myrtle was still sobbing and wailing overhead. Eventually, after what seened like a lifetime to a guilt-ridden Harry, Snape heaved Malfoy up from the floor, panting at the mere energy taken by the counter curses.
"You need the hosital wing. There may be a certain amount of scarring, but if you take dittany immediately we might avoid that even that... come..." He then attempted to haul the blonde across the bathroom, pausing at the door to glare at Harry, saying, "And you, Potter... you wait here for me." Harry just looked to the wet floor, and up to Moaning Mrytle. It did not occur to Harry for a single second to disobey Snape.
When Snape returned, he sneered at the raven-haired boy. He told Mrytle to go. She did, probably hopefully thinking that there was about to be a murder. Then again, she probably wouldn't mind, thinking she'd be able to share a bathroom with Harry for the rest of eternity, she had offered it during second year, after all.
"I didn't mean it to happen." Harry tried to defend himself to Snape, but it was to no avail. Snape was never going to believe him. "I didn't know what the spell did." Snape merely raised an eyebrow at the boy.
"Apparently I underestimated you, Potter." He said quietly. "Who would have thought you knew such dark magic? Who taught you that spell?"
"I - read about it somewhere." It wasn't technically a lie, if you thought about it. He had read about it. In a textbook from the potions classroom.
"Where?" What did he say? He couldn't tell him about the book, he would take it.
"It was- A library book." He started. Damn. Snape would ask what it was called next. "I don't remember what it was call-"
"Liar." Snape knew. Harry knew that Snape knew. Snape knew that Harry knew he knew. Yet he still went ahead and invaded his mind. Harry stumbled back as Snape rooted through his thoughts violently. The image of the potions book appeared, with "Property of the Half-Blood Prince" scrawled inside.
"Bring me your schoolbag, and all of your school books. All of them. Bring them to me here. Now!" Harry left in a hurry, not wanting to face Snape's wrath any more than he already was. He planned on getting there and back as fast as he possibly could. Unfortunately, Ron was at the top of the stairs. He gaped at Harry.
" Where've you -? Why are you soaking -? Is that blood?" That was it, he could take Ron's potions book. He was saved!
"I need your book. Your potions book. Quick... Give it to me..." He panted, only just stopping to relax.

"This is your copy of Advanced Potion-Making, is it, Potter?" Merlin, how did he know?
"Yes." He lied, still panting from the run earlier.
"You're quite sure of that, are you, Potter?"
"Yes." Harry repeated, getting annoyed. If the bat knew he was lying, he might as well save them both time and tell him now.
"This is the copy of Advanced Potion-Making that you purchased from Flourish and Blotts?" Not that Harry had actually bought a copy this year, seeing as how he'd been forced into taking potions this year.
"Yes." Harry was a fool to think this would ever work. Hermione would kill him when she found out.
"Then why, does it have the name Roonil Wazlib written inside the front cover?"
"That's my nickname." Great going, thought Harry, like he's going to believe that. Why the bloody hell would his nickname (not that he had one) be Roonil Wazlib? The idea was completely rediculous.
"Your nickname?" Wonderful. Now, not only did Snape not believe him, he thought he was a freak too.
"Yeah... that's what my friends call me," said Harry, willing Snape to believe him.
"I understand what a nickname is," said Snape. Well, it came as a surprise to Harry, it wasn't like Snape ever had friends. Though he should probably spend more time thinking about a better cover stories, than thinking about Snape's social life.
"Do you know what I think, Potter?" said Snape, very quietly. "I think that you are a liar and a cheat and that you deserve detention with me every Saturday until the end of term. What do you think, Potter?"

"I-I don't agree, sir," said Harry.

"A month? Well, honestly mate, I can't say I'm surprised he didn't believe you." Said Ron later, as they talked from bed to bed.
"Well what would you have done?"
"Accidentally bumped my head so I didn't have to go back?" They both laughed, and settled down. Harry thought about Ginny. She seemed to like him, and what would she say if he didn't ask her out? What if she kissed him? It wasn't that he didn't like her, per se. He just thought of her more like... a sister. Like him and Hermione.
"Ron, do you think I should ask Ginny out?" Nothing was thrown at him, so that was definately a good thing.
"Why?" That wasn't a yes, or a no.
"I think she likes me."
"'Course she does, idiot." Ron yawned, seemingly unconcerned. "But, do you like her?" Harry thought on this before making an uncommitted sound. "If you like her, then sure. Just don't mess her round okay?" Harry nodded, before turning over and welcoming the sleep that came so easily to him.