"No charge, dear. Tab's already been paid for," said the barmaid. She took Harry's empty mug and started wiping at it with a damp rag.
"Really?" Harry and the Weasleys had been at the Three Broomsticks all night and had acquired quite a tab. In fact, Harry had drunk so much Butterbeer that, weak as it was, he thought it might be starting to affect him. The glasses hanging from the racks above the bar swam ever so slightly before his eyes. "By who?"
"Couldn't say. Didn't recognize him."
"What did he look like?" Harry pressed. The barmaid shrugged and gestured vaguely to her own head.
"Blonde." Harry narrowed his eyes. That was the second nice thing Malfoy had done for him this month. Really, it was making Harry a bit nervous, since the only reason Malfoy was ever nice was if he wanted something from someone. But if he was trying to get on Harry's good side, why anonymously pay a bar tab? It would be more like him to throw a handful of galleons on the table in front of Harry and show off his wealth the way he usually did. The cryptic nature of this favor had caught Harry completely off guard.
Just then, his thoughts were interrupted by two warbling, off-tune voices piercing the din of bar chatter. Fred and George were standing on two stools, giving a rousing rendition of God Save the Queen with a few nasty lyric changes. Ron, who appeared to have been trying to talk to a pretty waitress, was flushed with embarrassment. Half of the bar was letting out hollers of amusement, while the other half didn't seem so appreciative. In the end, the latter half won out and Harry, Ron, Fred and George found themselves on the dark streets of Hogsmede.
"No sense of humor these days," said Fred, somberly.
"That wasn't even the really nasty version either," said George, elbowing Harry in the side. "Hey, what did our drinks cost? We'll pay you back."
"I don't know," Harry admitted. "Someone got to the tab before I could."
"Someone paid for all our drinks?" said Ron. "Why the hell would anyone do that?"
"Someone liked our song after all!" said Fred gleefully. "Maybe if they're lucky, we'll perform an encore next time!" The twins laughed and began singing the nastier version of the lyrics, tromping through the street on the way back to the castle.
Harry and Ron lingered behind, talking about homework and Ravenclaw's new keeper and nothing of any real importance. Harry had been incredibly relieved that no one had asked him any further questions about who might have paid for their drinks. No one would have understood why he was so certain it was Malfoy, when the only thing he knew was that the man was blonde. No one else had witnessed the subtle change in Malfoy's attitude towards Harry during the past year or so, and he could not possibly explain how he felt it had started even before that. Third year, falling 50 feet off his broom and spending several days flickering in and out of conciseness in the hospital wing, waking up once to very blue eyes and drifting off again almost immediately. Fourth year, almost being caught in the restricted section of the library at 2 in the morning and hearing a very familiar voice yelling down the hall, distracting Filch and keeping Harry safe. Fifth year, walking out of the Room of Requirement and nearly into Snape, but watching Malfoy step out of the shadows and claim there was a brawl in the Slytherin common room, catching Harry's gaze and holding it for just a moment as he led Snape away down the hall. Little things like this had happened for several years but lately, Malfoy had been laying it on a little thick. Even Ron had noticed when yesterday in potions, Malfoy turned around in his chair and told Harry in a genuine tone that the reason his divinity serum wasn't purple like it should be was because he hadn't added enough mugwort.
"What the hell'd he say that for? He doesn't help people." Harry thought he could see the back of Malfoy's pale neck flush a bit.
"I dunnno…" Harry mumbled, skimming the ingredients page.
"Probly trying to get us to mess up even more than we already have…" But as Harry added one more teaspoon of mugwort to the caldron, it sizzled for a moment and then turned a brilliant shade of violet.
"Bloody…" whispered Ron, staring at the serum. After class, Hermione had caught up with them and asked what Malfoy had said. Ron could still hardly contain his disbelief, but Hermione was slightly less surprised. Harry had wondered if she noticed the change too.
Now, as he and Ron entered the Gryfindor common room, they saw Hermione sitting at a desk by the fireplace, pouring over a long scroll of parchment. She had elected to study instead of going to the Three Broomsticks with them.
"You know, N.E.W.T.s aren't until next year," said Ron as they approached her table.
"I know that," she said with a grimace. "But you do realize that whether or not you're even qualified to take the N.E.W.T.s is determined by how well you do in your last two years? And this essay that Mr. Slughorn assigned is worth 25% of your total grade?"
"Oh, come off it," said Ron, though he fidgeted nervously in a way that let Harry know he had forgotten about the essay entirely. "Hey, someone paid for all our drinks tonight at the Three Broomsticks!" Hermione cocked an eyebrow.
"Who?"
"No one knows. They just did it and left. Pretty cool." Hermione raised both eyebrows and looked at Harry. He looked away.
"Hmm. That's nice. And you must have drank a lot too," she said, sniffing the air. "I can smell it on both of you!" Everyone laughed and the subject was changed but Harry didn't want to talk about how much they couldn't believe that Snape was finally the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. All he wanted to do was go to sleep and forget about any weird happenings. He excused himself for the night and made his way to the boys' dormitory. He lay on his bed for a moment, watching the canopy above his head twist in front of his drunken eyes and before he could stop himself, he fell asleep with his clothes on.