Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. They belong, as you very well know, to JKR.
A/N: Well, enjoy!
***
The Waking-UpWhen the sun rose above the ancient walls of Hogwarts Castle late in the month of May on Harry Potter's third year, it appeared to be the beginning of another ordinarily out-of-ordinary day for the students of the renowned School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There would be a reluctant, always-too-early waking-up, the usual rush to the Great Hall for breakfast, classes, students running late down the long corridors, classes again, lunch, first years getting lost, -and yes, you guessed it!- more classes, notes slipped under the nose of the -hopefully- unaware teacher, points taken and points awarded, dinner at last –thank Merlin the day is over!- quarrels, laughter, jokes, mischief, rule-breaking and, of course, plenty of magic.
When the sun rose above the ancient walls of Hogwarts Castle late in the month of May on Harry Potter's third year, the hero of this story (who is, well, Harry Potter) was just being woken up, much too early and much to his displeasure, by a loud thud, that seemed to have been caused by a heavy body collapsing on the boys' dorm floor.
Harry grabbed his wand and jumped out of his bed, accompanied in doing so by the displeased murmurs of a not-yet-fully-awaken-and-consequently-somewhat-incoherent Ron. Dean and Seamus were already on their feet, looking a bit ruffled in their matching yellow pajamas and staring with sleepy eyes at their fifth and final room mate, who was sprawled on the floor.
"I'm… so… sorry…" Neville sobbed, looking distractedly up to the other boys, while energetically rubbing the top of his head. "I… must've… bad dream… slipped out of bed. Didn't mean it… wake you up! …really sorry!"
"It's okay, Neville," Harry tried to reassure him, lowering his wand with a sigh, but the boy continued to look miserable with the thought of disturbing his roommates' morning sleep. Harry felt sorry for him, sure, but... Neville was rather clumsy, which earned him a fair share of jokes and mockery, mostly from Slytherins, which held no surprise, as a matter of fact. So Harry felt sorry, but he also felt really sleepy.
"We'd have woken up eventually, you know…" Harry continued, doing his best to sound convincing and shooting a glance into Ron's direction, asking his friend for help.
"Yeah," the redhead spoke, between two very heartily, one might even say, passionate yawns. "Like, in a couple of ages…ouch…hours… Ow-ouch!" Ron scowled as Harry had stepped on his left foot. Twice. Completely unintentionally… of course.
"'Cause, I mean, who cares for another two or three more hours of sleep, right? Feel as fresh as a freshly picked Aphodelya flower!" Ron quickly corrected himself, turning slightly green as he realized what he had just said.
"Ugh, did I just mention potion ingredients? Bloody Merlin beard, I think… might… been… dreaming… of… S…Snape! Thank… you… Neville… for ending… whatever nightmare… I was having!" Ron had sounded both utterly disgusted and positively sincere this time.
"Ron, stop making rhymes, you scare me!" Harry said, a bit alarmed, while checking his friend's forehead for temperature. After all, Ron was the last person he expected to have a dream (well, nightmare) involving their potion teacher and confess it so unperturbed to his roommates and then start making rhymes, all of that on the same morning.
In the meanwhile, Dean and Seamus had caught the message and were doing their best to cheer Neville up. Eventually, the boy rose from the floor in better spirits.
"Hey, since we're all up, I say get dressed and go play Exploding Snap into the common room!" Dean had a sudden enlightenment.
"Brilliant idea, mate!" Seamus approved with a rather mischievous grin.
"But wouldn't we wake up, like, everybody else…" Harry started.
"So shouldn't Gryffindors be supportive and loyal?" Ron interrupted. "And patiently support us- ugh, the others through times of trials and ordeal?"
Count on Ron to qualify being woken up earlier as an 'ordeal', Harry thought, but conveniently refrained from mentioning it to his friend.
"Uh, technically that sounds more like Hufflepuff, Ron, my man," Dean felt inclined to point out. "We, Gryffindors, are all about bravery and recklessness, remember?" He shook his head mockingly before solemnly proclaiming: "I'll blame this little slip on the lack of proper rest and pretend to never have heard such blasphemy!"
Everybody in the room was now laughing, except Ron, who looked a bit peevish, but recovered quickly and joined them. And it was thus mutually agreed to have some games of Exploding Snap in the common room before going to breakfast.
Dumbledore's AnnouncementThat was the reason why, at the previously-mentioned breakfast, the Gryffindor table was a lot less cheerful and noisy than usually and its occupants shot alarmingly murderous looks towards the infamous five that had so disregadly disrupted their sweet sleep earlier that morning.
"Honestly now!" Hermione, looking like someone would get hurt, was pointing her fork at Ron, along with a piece of a perfectly delicious and otherwise innocent pumpkin pie. The boy found it safer to pull his chair some inches away from his over-excited and (what was more to it) dangerously armed friend.
"What were you thinking? I had expected better from you, well, maybe not from you, Ron, but at least from Harry!" Hermione continued unperturbed.
"Hey!" Ron jumped to defend himself and his best friend. "As I recall things, a certain bushy haired someone, with dominating tendencies and an unhealthy passion for reading over-sized books, was more than eager to join us!"
"You've already woken me up and I couldn't do any studying with all the tantrum you were making, you big, thick, red skull!" The fork was making quite an alarming advance towards Ron's person. The boy consequently retreated further, right into Seamus' arms, causing the latter to grant him a look that suddenly made death by Hermione's fork appear a lot more appealing.
"Yeah, well, you just hate admitting that you had as much fun as the rest of us, miss Know-It-All!" Ron threw at his friend in response.
"Yo, George, if these two don't get separated urgently, I fear dreadful, bloody deeds will happen!" shouted Fred, from one end of the table, to his twin, which was seated, for an obscure reason, precisely at the opposite end.
"Ay, but I approve of Hermione's words, what were these youngsters thinking? If there were anyone to make tantrum in the common room at five o'clock in the morning, it should've been us!" George shouted back.
"There is no respect left for Veterans nowadays!" Fred responded before accusatively turning to Ron, Harry and the other three culprits. "I wonder what will be left of this world with people like you? You should be ashamed of yourself, young delinquents!" he ended, in what Ron unmistakably recognized as his mother's half-severe, half-worried tone when giving the twins a lecture.
The pleased expression, which was beginning to form on Hermione's face as George began to speak, was wiped away as his brother concluded the matter, but she didn't have time to reply because the Headmaster rose to his feet and demanded the students' attention, by tapping his glass with a bizarrely large silver spoon.
"Living so many years, I've come to discover that aging has a lot of side effects!" The students, mostly the first years, who weren't yet accustomed with the peculiarities of their Headmaster, were rather taken aback by this statement, not knowing if they could laugh or should remain serious. The Headmaster, however, continued, unperturbed by the wave of random giggles that spread nonetheless across the hall. Harry, Ron and Hermione, the latter two having renounced 'discussing in contradictory' (as Hermione had once put it), were all eyes and ears.
"Experience! I'm talking about experience! It comes to you after the first five or six decades of your life and has the generally annoying habit of sticking around. Well, experience tells me that people with their stomachs full take news more lightly than hungry people." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled joyously.
"Therefore, as our breakfast has almost come to its end, I shall no longer postpone this little announcement I plan to make!"
Predictably, the Hall echoed with rumor.
"So, with no further ado and digressions, I am proud to announce you that I have decided to proclaim the day of today, the twenty-ninth of May, the Official Hogwarts' Day Of Compliments!"
The puzzled look on both Ron's and Hermione's faces convinced Harry that the Headmasters' saying was indeed unheard of.
"What's that?" Harry heard one of the first-years asking. However, no one seemed to know the answer. At the teachers' table, things weren't much different. The staff looked just as surprised as the students, though they generally did a better job at hiding it. Luckily, the Headmaster was more than eager to enlighten everybody.
"I can see your puzzled faces... Well, it's precisely what the name says. Today we're paying compliments one to another!" he announced with the beaming face of a child in a candy store. Some students were still in that much of a shock, they were staring at their Headmaster mouth-opened.
"Isn't that great?" the Headmaster meanwhile continued unperturbed. "I was sitting in my office, the other day, chatting with Fawkes about the superiority of Lemon Sherbet over Raspberry Jelly, though he seemed to disagree… when suddenly… Bang!" Dumbledore clapped his hands, making almost every body in the Great Hall start.
"It hit me!" the Headmaster announced in very high spirit. And most of the students encountered little troubles at believing that something, not very unlike insanity, had indeed hit the old man. At this point Harry thought he saw Snape scowl and mutter to himself something like "Slytherin help us!"
"I saw everything so clearly! Relationship between Houses, between teachers and students, even between us teachers, had grown cold over time because we don't know any more to appreciate the others, to see not only their flaws, but also their qualities! So that's what this day is all about! Seeing the nice part in other people and telling them so! Besides, I felt that, considering the present circumstances, we could all do with a little amusement! So today, and every twenty-ninth of May starting from now, is going to be a day when everyone inside these walls shall enjoy the pleasure of paying and being paid compliments!"
Students, bizarrely enough, didn't seem particularly enthusiastic about the perspective.
"Uh, right, that's precisely how I'm gonna spend my day! Like it wasn't bad enough that we've got Potions today!" Ron scowled. "Nice coif, Professor Snape! Lovely smile, Millicent! Not bloody going to happen!" The redhead was a bit unnerved by the news.
"Ron!" Hermione frowned. "I think it a very nice idea that Headmaster had for us! Don't be such a baby!"
"I won't bloody do it! It's silly!" And to prove his point, Ron stuck out his tongue out at his friend.
"Oh, and that was so mature!" Hermione frowned.
"What d'you expect, I'm only thirteen! I say it's silly and I say the hell with it!"
"Ronald Weasley!"
However, Dumbledore wasn't done with his speech. "Of course, I didn't expected you to be as enthusiastic as me about my plan in the beginning. And the point of this day is not to compliment only the persons you know and like. So I've devised a little system!" The Headmaster sounded so happy and proud with himself that Harry found it hard not to smile.
"Today," Dumbledore continued, "the castle is under a spell that I had worked out myself. And its pretty effective, I might add: when you pass by someone you haven't yet complimented, the two of you won't be able to separate until he or she has paid you a sincere compliment and you have done the same in return. This arrangement, however, will not excuse you for being late in classes!" This being said, Dumbledore prepared to sit down, when he seemed to remember something.
"Oh, I almost forgot the essential!" he uttered in a very lively voice. The students leaned forward, anxious to hear 'the essential' and Professor Dumbledore didn't let them wait.
"I want to dedicate this day to our beloved Potion Master, Severus Snape, who also celebrates his birthday today. I won't divulge his age, however!" Dumbledore winked at everyone and no one in particular. "Consider this my gift, Severus! Happy birthday!" The Headmaster clapped his hands, and the other teachers, as well as the students, eventually stood up and followed his example, although only the Slytherins put some real enthusiasm in it.
Professor Snape, looking like a very pained man and dangerously close to redirecting his breakfast inside his stomach back to the plates from which it came, stood up and slightly bowed, muttering something like "Thank you, Headmaster!", while he would have more obviously enjoyed throwing a few well-chosen curses at the old man.
Ron, in the meanwhile, was experiencing difficulties at breathing. A worried Harry and a surprisingly wordless Hermione were trying to help him.
"Ron, Ron, come on, you've got to let air into your lungs!" Harry was presently shaking his friend, whose face, twisted in combination of horror and disgust for quite some time now, was beginning to match the color of his hair.
"That's it, you know how to do it! You've done it before!" Harry uttered feeling rather stupid, as his friend was still unable to inhale and exhale.
"Snape… birthday… compliments… bloody noooo!" the redhead managed to let out, while finally remembering how to breathe. His friends took him by the hands and together they headed for their first class that day, as they figured that, under the circumstances, it would take longer than usual to arrive.
Some Quiet Moments
People to avoid today…
It was during the History of Magic class and Harry Potter was scribbling, very absorbed in the process, onto a piece of parchment, although what he was writing had nothing to do with the Tenth Century Gnomes' Enslavement Issue, about which Professor Binns had been going on and on for a quarter of an hour that seemed like three. No, Harry was actually making a list.
People to avoid today:
1. Malfoy
2. Malfoy (just to be sure)
3. Snape
Avoiding Malfoy should be fairly easy, Harry reckoned, as the smug bastard was surely as not eager to compliment his enemy, as was Harry to compliment the insufferable Slytherin. Although he wasn't sure about being able to avoid Snape, as they would be having Potions later that day... Cursed ill-luck! What was the use of escaping Voldemort if he would be forced to find something nice to say about the person, who, after the Dark Lord, seemed to loathe him the most in the world? Harry sighed, thinking that he would have taken another encounter with the Basilisk instead of that, had he be given the choice.
4. Crabbe
5. Goyle
6. …
Reaching number six, Harry paused to think for an instant, before carefully writing down...
6. Slytherins in general
That should do it! Harry was satisfied with the list so far. The first six numbers covered quite well the persons whom he hated and who hated him in return. (Well, except Voldemort, but he wasn't exactly expected at tea!) Time to turn to another category! The persons who annoyed him, or made him feel awkward for various reasons. And it had to be, of course…
7. Colin Creevey and his camera
Okay, he wasn't sure that could be done either –avoiding his over-enthusiastic fellow Gryffindor, that was- after all, Harry had unsuccessfully been trying to do that since the beginning of his second year.
8. Professor Trelawney
9. Filch
10. Peeves (is the spell working for poltergeists and ghosts as well?)
11. The Bloody Baron (see above)
Very pleased with himself, Harry tore the page and folded it neatly, before placing it in the pocket of his robes.
So far, the whole Experiment –as Hermione was getting used to refer to the Headmaster's idea- had gone reasonably well. Harry had had to compliment a few Hufflepuffs, several Ravenclaws, a lot of Gryffindors and no Slytherins. Of course, he had begun with Ron and Hermione, who had been closest to him after the Headmaster had made the announcement. It had been easier with Ron – "You're an excellent chess player, Ron Weasley!" – "Thank you, Harry Potter, you're a bloody brilliant seeker yourself!" They had bowed ceremoniously to each other, holding their laughter and causing Hermione to snort in a manner that said "Oh, you're so predictable!" but Harry had guessed it had been only because she had wanted to pay them the same compliments and had been forced to find something else instead.
It had been slightly awkward to compliment Hermione, but Harry had managed to beat Ron at telling her that she was the smartest witch he would ever know (predictable, so what?), and being told, with a smile from her part, that he had the most beautiful pair of green eyes she'd ever seen. At which point, Ron had given both of them a very strange look and said something about Hermione spending too much time with Ginny, thus forcing Harry to throw some very fierce glances in his direction. (Speaking of Ginny, now those had been some truly awkward moments! Anyone more vane would have probably been thrilled at hearing how he is the greatest, bravest, most intelligent and most handsome wizard in the world, but Harry only managed to let out a very unconvinced 'Thanks, you're… you're nice!' before turning on his heels and running like hell and a hoard of Death Eaters were on his tail.)
The boy, however, had received his share of amusement in watching his two best friends trying to compliment each other and failing at it gloriously. Because of Dumbledore's spell, they had been forced to walk very close together all the way to the History of Magic class, none of them deciding to say the words first. Furthermore, they had been compelled to sit together for the lesson because they still hadn't been able to formulate something as simple as a compliment. Which had left Harry sit with Neville, and he suddenly hadn't found the whole situation so funny.
Harry missed Ron's company and jokes, the only things that usually made History of Magic tolerable. Figuring there would still be half an hour to spend without dying of boredom and that the fore-mentioned goal was not to be achieved by listening Professor Binns' dull speech, Harry began to mentally sort through the compliments he had received so far. It was quite a long, though not so creative, list – well, it was certainly longer than Ron's or Hermione's who were still stuck on their first compliment – and Harry imagined that it was his so-called celebrity which made people come to praise his real or imaginary qualities and receive in return a compliment from The-Boy-Who-lived, to brag about later. Disturbing as that might be… Harry frowned. Getting even more unwanted attention that day was simply unavoidable.
He resolved to make a top five of his favorite compliments so far, as a means to kill time. Of course, Ron's and Hermione's would occupy the first place. He decided that second place should go to George's (or Fred's, one could never be a hundred percent sure with the twins) "Oh, mighty Harry, we bow to your talent of bringing that lovely jaundiced shade into Professor Snape's adorable cheeks by your mere presence in his classroom!"
Third place next. Definitely had to go to Professor McGonagall who said, trying and failing to sound authoritarian, that he was drawn to mischief like his father, but was better at getting away with it than him. Harry certainly didn't expected being complimented on how well he got away with rule-breaking by the very Head of his house.
Fourth place… that had to be Dean, who told him trying to keep his face straight, but unable to suppress a playful glitter in his eyes: "Now, Harry, my man, as much as I don't want to give you further reason to believe that you are a Living Model of Perfection, I must admit you're the best roommate one could have – don't make a mess of the room like Seamus, don't snore like Ron and don't fall out of your bed at night like Neville!" Luckily Ron was too occupied with finding a compliment for Hermione to hear that!
Fifth place – a Ravenclaw girl he hadn't spoken to before (and looked very pretty, by the way, but, of course, that was not why he had included her in his top five, how could you say that!?). She told him that he had done a great job in the Transfiguration class the day before. And, the truth was that Harry had, in fact, been very proud of the little fluffy bunny he had produced out of a round, green, very dull watermelon…
Harry hadn't realised he had fallen asleep for the reminder of the class until Neville patted him on the back at the end of it.
Divine Divination
"Ron Weasley, you are being immature again!"
"Why do I have to be the first? You have to do it as well!"
"Okay, okay I'll do it! But you must promise me you'll do it as well! I can't drag you along to Arithmacy with me, you have to go to Divination with Harry!"
"Fine. Say yours and I'll say mine!"
"Promise?"
"Bloody hell, Hermione!"
Harry stretched his arms, as he watched his friends fighting on who to say the compliment first. He was still amazed they hadn't worked it out during History of Magic. However, he and Ron were having Divination right now and Hermione was supposed to be on her way to Arithmacy. So they had to have it worked out. Hermione seemed to have come back to her senses and was preparing to perform her part of the deal. Her face was flushed, just as it was during a very important exam. Come to think about it, every exam was important to Hermione! Harry shrugged and continued to wait patiently.
"Ron Weasley, though you act on your impulses most of the time, and though you are too lazy to use your full intellectual capacities…"
"Hermione!"
"…and you are obsessed with Quidditch and you have the impression that if you open a book it will byte you and you are stubborn like a…"
"Hermione! Stop it!"
"What?"
"You are supposed to compliment me, no deliver insults. That's Malfoy's business!"
"Oh, sorry…! Ah, what I meant was… that… well… you are not perfect… but… you… you…" Hermione seemed to be desperately searching for a thing to say and not at all succeeding, which was a first-ever in her relatively brief existence. Never before, as long as Harry could remember, had words failed his bushy-haired friend.
"You… you look great in school robes! There!" she finally managed to utter with a victorious spark in her eyes.
"I. Look. Great. In. School. Robes? Harry gets an 'You have the most beautiful pair of green eyes' and I just 'look great in school robes'?" Ron appeared to hesitate between hopeless laughter and demented anger.
"Yes, just that. You look great in school robes!" Hermione stood boldly, as if defying anyone –anyone, as in Ron Weasley- who would dare question the value of her compliment.
"Well... Hermione… I … reallythinkyou'reprettywhenyougetsoangry!"
With that, Ron turned on his heels, grabbing Harry by his wrist and mumbling something about being late for Divination, and consequently missing the chance of seeing Hermione blushing in a quite uncharacteristic manner.
"Not a word on it!" Ron warned Harry, with a fierce glare, on the way to Professor's Trelawney's classroom, so his friend had to comply.
Even if Harry hadn't been rather preoccupied at the moment with the possibility of him –Merlin forbid!- getting close enough to Professor Trelawney to have to compliment her, he wouldn't have had the chance to say a word to Ron.
The flash of a camera nearly blinded him and Harry knew who to expect, which was why he suddenly looked like someone with a deep need to flee. However, Colin Creevey was too enraptured to notice.
"Harry, I've been looking all over for you!"
Harry produced a miserable smile.
"I just wanted to say that you are the greatest wizard of all the times and you are my personal hero!" Colin looked at him expectantly.
Harry realized, after some awkward moments, that the boy was expecting his compliment.
"Aaa, right… Colin, you're… definitely… the most… enthusiastic fellow I know." Harry uttered with half his mouth. Colin, however, was radiating.
"A compliment from the great Harry Potter! Wait 'til I tell the guys from the fan club!"
And with that, he disappeared, almost jumping with excitement, on a corridor to the left, leaving Harry staring at him in shock. Luckily, Ron was there to drag him to the Divination class. Speaking of which… Well, they don't say one's worst fears always come true for nothing…
"Mr. Potter, I have foreseen this day in which we are to exchange compliments!" Professor Trelawney had extended her hand towards him in a highly theatrical gesture, as soon as he had entered the classroom. "The stars revealed that you would say an absolutely wonderful thing to me and raise my spirits for the whole day!"
Harry could hardly imagine himself doing that. "Um, Professor, what am I to say to you, more precisely?" He gave her a look full of hope. Perhaps the old fraud would tell him just what she wanted to hear from him, making things a lot deal easier.
"That, my dear boy, I could not see! However, as I want to return your compliment in a proper manner, I suggest we keep our courtesies for the end of this class. I want to have the proper time to think about it accordingly."
Had Harry been blown in full force by the mighty wing of a dragon, had he been mercilessly stomped under the feet of a very upset Hippogriff, he wouldn't have been more in a state of a shock.
"Given the circumstances, you can come and sit by my side, Mr. Potter," Professor Trelawney whispered in her characteristic tone. "In truth," Harry thought he saw her giggle at this point and was utterly horrified, "you have no choice, my dear boy!"
Bearing the face of a convict to a faith worse than death, Harry Potter, the boy who defeated Voldemort and slaughtered the Basilisk, sat down next to his Divination teacher with a murderous, very murderous look on his face.
How the time had passed by so quickly, Harry couldn't have told. Out of the sudden, Professor Trelawney was giving him a piercing, expecting gaze. Dazzled, realizing that he didn't even hear the compliment she had paid him only moments ago –though for that, some part of him was grateful – Harry threw a miserable and rather desperate look in Ron's direction. His friend, much to Harry's surprise, was waving his wand in the air, as if writing. And, in fact, words began to form into the air. Mechanically, Harry grasped the words and uttered them to the Professor.
"I, Harry Potter… The-Boy-Who-Lived…ah, solemnly declare… that you… Professor Trelawney… are, ah, not only a very gifted Seer…"
Harry's mouth twitched into something that was dangerously close to laughter.
"…an incredibly talented teacher… very kind person… exquisite (since when did Ron use such words?!) counselor of those… in need of a… sound advice…"
At this point, the boy was beginning to experience the compulsive need to strangle Ron, but the Professor, who looked simply enraptured, had caught his hand and didn't seem eager to let him go until he would finish.
"…but also a, ah, very beautiful woman! Ron, you…" Harry almost jumped at his friend when he realized what he had just made him say, but Professor Trelawney was now close to tears and wouldn't let him go. Ron was literally rolling with laughter on one of the many cushions in the classroom.
"Oh, Mr. Potter, you are such a charmer! Telling those things to an old woman like me! You should be ashamed of yourself!" Harry had to admit to himself that, for the very first time since he was taking Divination, he would actually have agree with his teacher upon this point. Right then, he felt he would rather have the earth opening, dragging him inside and close above his head. But then again, performing a very painful curse to melt Ron's internal organs was just as appealing.
Having finally managed to extract himself from Professor Trelawney's shaking hands –she had only released him to grab a handkerchief, which she was now holding pressed upon the corner of her left eye, sobbing slightly- Harry wasted no seconds in rushing to the exit. Ron followed with some difficulty, not surprisingly, as his body was still shaking with waves of laughter.
Snapeciousness…
Later on that day, some time after lunch, it was time for Potions and Harry was still internally debating just how long he should continue to act upset for Ron's little (little!? LITTLE!!!?) joke in the Divination class. When Professor Snape came in, the boy didn't even blink at the sight of his least favorite teacher. After all, things couldn't get any worse than they already had, could they?
Malfoy had been carefully preserving distance, and so did the other Slytherins, who appeared to know their best interest in this peculiar complimenting affair. The Potion class announced itself to be relatively eventless and Harry sighed with relief. But sometimes, some things simply aren't meant to be…
Professor Snape was in a very bad temper.
Professor Snape would have sliced Professor Dumbledore at breakfast, but with that not being really an option, he was determined to get his revenge in the appealing form of torturing the Gryffindors beyond the limits of a madman's wildest nightmares.
Professor Snape had many other reasons to be utterly out of his minds. Like, for example (although Harry would find out about that only later and the twins would swear, with perfectly innocent eyes, they had nothing to do with it) the enchanted birthday cake that had been singing incessantly a very catchy tune entitled 'You Are The Champion, Professor Snape', before landing right in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, consequence of a Transportation spell performed by a very angry Potion Master.
Well, Professor Snape simply didn't have the required sense of humor
But right then –which was worse- Professor Snape did have a Vicious Plan.
"Today," Professor Snape spat, his voice reaching levels of loathing yet unheard of, "you are going to brew the Skin Color Changing Potion."
"But that's, like, at the end of the book! We aren't prepared!" Harry heard Hermione whispering, though he didn't find her voice particularly concerned with the fact.
"This is a very difficult potion!" Snape meanwhile continued. "Anyway, as I don't expect any of you worthless Gryffindors to have actually read about it, and, in order to avoid unpleasant incidents," the left corner of his mouth twitched frightfully at this point, "I have decided to pair you up with Slytherins today!"
"Oh, noo!" the Gryffindors cried in horror.
"Oh, noo!" the Slytherins uttered in disgust.
"Oh, yes!" every inch on Snape's demented mien was stating with indescribable malice.
So, in no time, a very distressed Harry was sitting next to a completely disoriented Crabbe; a green-faced Ron was sharing his desk with a disturbingly scowling Goyle; and a pale, but trying to keep her dignity, Hermione was sited next to no other than a still smirking –which was unsettling enough- Draco Malfoy. If Harry was to find any consolation in the fore-mentioned arrangement, weak as it might have been, it was that, at least, it was Hermione who had been paired up with Malfoy, and not him. And that, at least, it was Hermione who had to come up with a compliment for the smug bastard and not him. Poor Hermione!
"Good, I see you are at your places now. Open your books at page-"
Professor Snape, however, never finished that sentence because something happened right then. Something unexpected. Something unimaginable. Something which convinced Harry that divine justice and mercy might exist after all.
The door of the classroom opened.
"Professor Snape, may I have a word with you?" Remus Lupin had just entered and was dangerously advancing towards Snape's desk.
What is he doing? Harry thought in amazement. Several more inches and he would have to make a compliment to less complimentable person in the world! What is Professor Lupin doing?! And then Harry remembered. Professor Lupin, strangely enough, hadn't been at the breakfast that morning, when Dumbledore had made the announcement about the whole complimenting business. Which meant… Oh, no!
"Professor, don't take any more steps!" Harry found himself shouting. This courageous act of insubordination resulted in several simultaneous actions. Professor Lupin stopped quite abruptly and eyed Harry like the boy was loosing his mind. Harry realized what he had done and began to feel awkward, very awkward indeed. Professor Snape raised his eyes from the book he was studying and finally noticed the Defence Against Dark Arts teacher standing dangerously close to him. And, to everybody's surprise, Professor Snape uttered not the familiar '20 points from Gryffindor for disrupting class', but he repeated, eyes widened in horror, Harry's words:
"Don't take any more steps!" But it was too late.
"You idiot, now I'll have to make you a compliment!" Snape shot at Professor Lupin, who was taken quite aback by his colleague's sudden outburst.
Harry grinned. Now, that, for sure, was a good start!
"What?!" Professor Lupin got even more confused, as the meaning of the Potion Master's words struck him.
But Professor Snape didn't waste any time explaining. He simply stood up and headed for the door, dragging poor Professor Lupin along the way. Before existing, he turned to the students with a very gloomy countenance.
"Begin the work on your potion! No moves, no talk, no nothing beside your assignment, if you know what's good for you!" And the door was shut close with a loud thud.
Of course, the temptation was too big to resist. In no time, Seamus had his ear glued onto the door and a complaining Pansy Parkinson glued to him, the latter being just the result of Snape's rather perverted pairing system. However, it seemed that Gryffindors and Slytherins alike were getting their revenge at that precise moment.
"What are they saying?" Ron voiced the question in everybody's minds.
"Shh. I can't hear if you all whisper!" The class went silent in an instant. "Professor Lupin …you are… the best… looking… Defence Against Dark Arts teacher… ever in this school… Professor Snape, thank you… you… have… such… a lovely… long… black hair yourself!"
"WHAT?!!!" twenty voices screamed as one.
"Just kidding, just kidding! What they really said-"
Unfortunately for Seamus, the door opened before he could satisfy the curiosity of the others. He was thrust on the floor and Professor Snape was glaring at him.
"Mr. Finnigan, would you mind collecting your pity self from top of Miss Parkinson, so that both of you could resume your seats?"
The now red-faced Gryffindor tried to utter an excuse, but no words came out of his mouth, which was probably for the better, considering Snape's present state of mind. So Seamus simply did what he had been told to do.
"Now," Snape's voice was unnervingly cool, "I believe it won't come much of a surprise for any of you, Gryffindors, that young Finnigan here has just lost your house fifty points for not obeying a teacher's command and acting very disrespectfully in his attempt to spy a private conversation, of no interest to him. Two points will be further deducted for every Gryffindor in this classroom that hadn't done anything to stop him. Oh, and Finnigan! Dungeons, tonight, detention! With me!"
If looks had worked like poisonous arrows, no doubt that Professor Snape would have been reduced in no time to the highly undesirable state of a human pin-cushion. But that not being the case, the Gryffindors simply glared at the Potion Master with their most passionate hatred and contempt, before being forced to resume their work on the Skin Color Changing Potion.
Evening Quietness
It had been a long, tormenting, unspeakably horrible day and no one could have ever convinced Harry Potter of the contrary. It was some time after dinner and Harry lay, quite exhausted, in a large armchair, back into the Gryffindor common room. Hermione was passionately studying her copy of 'Hogwarts: A History' at a table nearby, although why exactly the girl was performing this action was beyond Harry's understanding. He thought that, by the time being, Hermione could recite the whole book by heart without even stopping to breathe.
Harry sighed. The armchair next to him, usually occupied by Ron, was empty. His friend had been unlucky enough to stand in the range of Neville's exploding potion earlier that day. Madam Pomfrey had assured Harry and Hermione that their friend would be just as good as new the next day, but a few hours earlier at the Infirmary he still looked like a giant tomato who had grown hands and legs and developed a –well– a slight paranoia issue...
"I saw THAT, you know! You were staring at my-"
Luckily Harry silenced his friend with a well-aimed spell before he had been able to finish the sentence and Hermione never found out at precisely what part of Ron she had been, supposedly, staring. It became worst when Ron discovered Goyle on the bed next to him. Miraculously, Goyle hadn't been splashed in the explosion, but had been brought nonetheless to the Infirmary because of Dumbledore's spell. (Both Harry and Hermione had managed to shake off Crabbe, respectively Malfoy, although none of them wanted to actually remember the experience.) Ron almost blacked out in shock when the Slytherin boy approached his bed and-
"So, you… you… Gryffindor!" For Goyle, that was, unarguably, the ultimate insult. "Pay me a compliment, cuz I have classes, you know!"
At first, Ron simply stared, mouth-opened, at the miserable, despicable, insolent Slytherin that dared to make such an outrageous request.
"Ron, honestly now, he paid you a compliment earlier!"
"What?!" Ron grabbed Harry's sleeve and wouldn't let go. "Tell me what he said, Harry!"
Retrospectively, Harry knew it hadn't been a good idea. "Well, Ron, Goyle here said… that… well… um… red is really your color!"
"THAT SLYTHERIN BASTARD! HOW DARE HE-"
"What is the meaning of this?" Madam Pomfrey, standing at the door, wasn't looking very happy at that moment. "All of you, out! This is the Infirmary, not the Quidditch pitch. Quietness is required!"
"He has to pay me a compliment! I can't leave!" Goyle pointed his finger accusatively at Ron.
"Go ahead, Mr. Weasley, pay Mr. Goyle here a compliment!" Madam Pomfrey commanded in a tone that admitted no refusal. Looking back at the scene, Harry was more and more certain that he had also heard her muttering something like 'nonsense rubbish', 'unnecessary agitation' and 'old fool', but, then again, it might have been just his imagination.
Anyway, by the look on Ron's face back at that moment, Harry could see that his friend wasn't going to comply with the request any time in the near future. Luckily, Hermione was there to save the day. She approached Ron's bed and whispered something in his ear. Ron granted Hermione a look which plainly stated that the girl had lost her sanity, but he proceeded voicing her suggestion nonetheless:
"Uh, Goyle, you are definitely a wonderful all-round person, too bad the act of walking round you always tired me!"
At that point Harry wasn't able to suppress a giggle, which caused Hermione to punch him in the ribs (and with much more strength than a girl should be allowed to possess, Harry thought in retrospective). Anyway, the so-called compliment had done the job. Hermione later explained, managing to make Harry's head spin, that Goyle was, after all, too dense to perceive the irony, so he had genuinely believed it to be a compliment, so that was why it had worked in the first place, because, in this case, it was the result that mattered, not the intention.
Back at the Infirmary, Madam Pomfrey asked the 'intruders' to leave once more, before turning all her attention to the unlucky Ron.
"Now, Mr. Weasley, drink this!" She was holding a goblet with green, smoking liquid. "Now, don't be such a child, Mr. Weasley! It doesn't taste as foul as it looks!"
Madam Pomfrey had in fact been right. By the pained look on Ron's face, it tasted at least ten times fouler…
Back to present, Harry sighed again. "I'm going to see Ron!" he suddenly announced, making Hermione lift her head from her book looking horrified.
"But it's not… safe, Harry!"
Harry knew that his friend meant Sirius Black, but he wasn't to change his mind.
"I'll be okay!"
"And it's against school rules!" That was so much like Hermione, to bring up the rules on every opportunity. However, she didn't seem as convinced as before. After being a friend of Harry Potter for more than two years and a half, even Hermione had to learn that rules are meant mostly to be broken.
"Don't worry, Hermione, I'm taking the Cloak." Harry reassured his friend. "No one will ever know I left the common room. Wanna come?"
"Well, I've seen him only a couple of hours ago and probably he's already asleep and I have this extra work for Muggle Studies to finish by tomorrow and it really is against…"
"Okay, okay, got the message!" Harry smiled at his friend's excuses. "I'll go grab the Cloak then! See you in an hour or so!" he waved his hand in her direction, rushing up the stairs and to the boy's dorm but, suddenly, he seemed to have remembered something.
"Uh, Hermione," he asked, trying to sound perfectly casual, "so what was, again, the compliment Malfoy paid you?"
"Nice try, Harry! I'm not telling you, I believe we had this conversation before! It's something between him and me, that was the deal. So that we won't be more humiliated than we already were."
Harry shrugged. "I still say it's weird. A deal with Malfoy, I mean. So you're not going to tell what was your compliment either, then?"
Hermione shook her had.
"Okay, so I guess I'll go, then!"
"Just take care, Harry!"
A few moments later the portrait door was opened and then closed, without any visible signs of someone performing the fore-mentioned actions. Hermione sighed, wondering why she could never convince her friend to stay out of trouble, which was precisely what he would most likely get for sneaking out tonight.
Barely had Harry exited through the portrait hole, that he heard footsteps coming in his direction. He quickly withdrew behind a nearby pillar and waited silently. Professor McGonagall, accompanied by the twins, was heading for the Gryffindor common room.
"Really, Professor, we weren't sneaking to the kitchens…" Fred, or maybe George, was pleading the case.
"…although appearances may be incriminating…" George, or maybe Fred, took over.
"…the truth is that we were quietly sitting by the fireplace…"
"…enjoying the quiet blessings…"
"…of a perfectly quiet evening…"
"…in our perfectly quiet common room…"
"…when we realized…"
"…in amazement…"
"…and awe…"
"…that we…"
"…ungrateful and miserable beings…"
"…not deserving to be called…"
"…honorable wizards…"
"…failed to pay you…"
"…our favorite teacher…"
"…the compliments you deserve…"
"…because you are..."
"…our favorite teacher…"
"…of course!"
"So we were just wandering around…"
"…secretly hoping…"
"…that we would find you, Professor…"
"…and our prayers…"
"…had been heard…"
"…thank Merlin for that!"
Harry was really sorry he couldn't stick around any longer to hear the conclusion of this fairly amusing episode, but he was already running late. So he folded the cloak even closely around him and slid, unheard and unseen, right under Professor's McGonagall scrutinizing eyes.
The rest of Harry's trip to the Infirmary was surprisingly eventless. No Filch, no Snape. Probably both hiding so they won't have to compliment any unlucky victims, Harry reckoned with a grin, which served them just fine. And it also served him in a very nice way.
Reaching Ron's bed, Harry had to give Hermione credit for her foresight. The redhead was sleeping soundly and like there was nothing in the world to worry about. Not even Snape and his dreaded Potion classes.
Harry, of course, couldn't bring himself to wake Ron up, so he had no other option but to leave the Infirmary, somewhat disturbed by the perspective of Hermione greeting him with an all-knowingly "Told you so!" at his return in the common room.
It might have been this thought that distracted Harry, or the whole tiresome experience of that day, but he didn't hear the footsteps until it was to late. How he wished he had the Map with him right now! He was at the end of a long, narrow, badly lit, corridor. Which in itself wouldn't have been a problem, except for the fact that Draco Malfoy had somehow managed to appear in the precisely same place. The Slytherin had stopped near a heavy arm suit, as if trying to decide which way to go. Harry blinked, starting to believe he was hallucinating. Draco Malfoy… in pajamas?
Retreating back to the safety of the corridor, Harry couldn't suppress a short, evil chuckle. Malfoy's pajamas were definitely not something that he, Harry, would have worn so unperturbed around the castle! They were made of a fluffy, light green material, upon which there had been embroidered a variety of baby dragons, with cute, plump little faces, playing around or trying to breath fire. It made Malfoy look almost inoffensive. Wait 'til I tell Ron about this! Harry thought, still fighting to suppress the maddening urge to roll on the floor laughing like a maniac.
However, his amusement dropped considerably as Malfoy turned on his heels and stepped into the corridor occupied by Harry. Of course, Malfoy couldn't see him. Harry became horrified as realization hit him. The corridor was so narrow that Malfoy would pass close enough to get stuck to him until they had complimented each other. Which was utterly unimaginable, indescribable and unheard of.
Harry began to retreat slowly, taking care not to make any sound that might raise Malfoy's suspicions. Towards the middle of the corridor, the Slytherin stopped abruptly. Harry's heart sank. Did Malfoy hear him? Was he discovered? But no, the other boy simply turned around and scrutinized the darkness. Maybe he will leave, maybe he will leave. It was all that Harry could think. But Malfoy had apparently heard something behind him and was simply checking.
The black silhouette flew through the air so unexpectedly that Malfoy stumbled and landed at Harry's feet. Mrs. Norris stood there, starting at the Slytherin laying on the floor.
"Stupid cat!" Harry thought with a gloomy countenance, feeling the deep need to grab the animal and hang it by the tail from the highest tower in the castle.
"Stupid cat!" Malfoy muttered, while collecting himself from the floor and rubbing his injured parts. But when he tried to walk away, he discovered he couldn't take a single step. Well, at least, the startled expression on the Slytherin's usually smug face was priceless, Harry thought with a grin.
Under normal circumstances, watching Malfoy glued to the spot and failing to understand why he couldn't move would have been a perpetual source of amusement for Harry. But if Mrs. Norris was there, Harry knew it only meant that Filch was near and would soon make an appearance. Malfoy would be discovered and, in no time, so would he.
It seemed that Harry hadn't been much mistaken. Barely a minute had passed and both boys could hear footsteps at the end of the corridor. Malfoy froze. Filch was coming their way. Harry sighed, still not believing what he was about to do. But there was no other way. He took his wand from his pocket, muttered a quick silencing spell, extended a hand out of the Cloak and grabbed Malfoy, dragging him under the protection of invisibility.
And, To Conclude
At first, Malfoy was too shocked to put up a struggle, a fact for which Harry was thankful. Filch was approaching and had Malfoy still been visible, he would have been spotted by now.
"Come, come, my dear, there is no one on this deserted corridor!" Filch addressed Mrs. Norris, who reluctantly followed him. As Filch passed near the two boys, almost touching them, Harry found himself thinking that, there he was, almost embracing Draco Malfoy of all the people (mind you, wearing only his silly green pajamas), under the Invisibility Cloak, while being nailed on a cold wall, in a very uncomfortable position. It had to be a nightmare! By the look on the Slytherin's face, as much as Harry could distinguish in the semi-darkness, he was to expect no more and no less than a practical demonstration of the Cruciatus Curse as soon as Filch would be out of sight.
He hadn't been much mistaken. Barely had the sound of the caretaker's steps faded away in the distance that Malfoy jumped from under the Cloak as bitten by a poisonous viper. Luckily, the Silencing Charm was still working or else, Harry thought, Malfoy would have brought up the whole castle with his yelling. Really, where was the famous Slytherin self-control now?
"Malfoy! Malfoy! MALFOY!" Harry almost shouted, himself, at the other boy. "Stop trying to yell at me, it's pointless!"
Malfoy stopped and glared.
"I'll take the Silencing Charm off but you must keep your voice down or we'll both get detention!" Harry whispered, not forgetting to glare in return. He muttered the counter spell and… there it went. Malfoy exploded like a blowing cauldron.
"Just what do you think you're doing, Potter? Take your filthy hands off me!"
"You're delusional, Malfoy, I do not have my hands on you!"
"You did a few moments ago!" Malfoy pointed out with a disgusted grimace.
"Show some gratitude, will you, Malfoy! I just saved you from detention!" Harry was beginning to loose his patience.
"Oh, how noble of you, saintly Potter! From where I stood, it looked more like you were saving yourself, Wonder Boy!" Malfoy had recovered his usual sneer.
"Well, if you hadn't been wandering through the castle after bedtime like that, I wouldn't have been forced to 'save' myself in the first place!"
"Is it only you, Potter, or faulty logic is a Gryffindor common trait? You were out of bed as well!"
"Yeah, well, I had the Invisibility Cloak!" As much as Harry hated it, there was no use pretending. Malfoy knew about his Cloak now.
Recollection hit Malfoy out of the sudden.
"I knew it! I knew it was you that day in Hogsmeade! I told Professor Snape so! Oh, you're going to be in so much trouble, Potter!" Malfoy looked incredibly pleased with himself.
Harry felt he was loosing control. All he wanted now was to wipe that smug expression off Malfoy's face and in a very painful manner, if possible. In no time, he had drawn his wand and was pointing it at the smirking Slytherin. Unfortunately, Malfoy had done the same and was pointing his wand at Harry.
"You wouldn't dare, you slimy face of a slug!" Harry threatened, his cheeks flushed with anger.
"Language, Potter! What, you're going to duel with me here?"
But what Harry might have done to Malfoy right then and there was to remain forever obscured in the fog of time, for, no sooner had the Slytherin's drawled words faded, that the two boys could hear, very distinctly, another set of steps approaching. They both stared at each other in panic, and then Malfoy let out a very impressive collection of rude invectives, which would have caused Harry to spat "Language, Malfoy!", hadn't he felt actually very inclined to follow the Slytherin's example.
"Damn, Potter, we have to hide again under that thing of yours!" Malfoy whispered, worried to some extent.
"It's called an Invisibility Cloak and I thought you weren't so eager to get anyway near my 'filthy' person again! Why would I share my Cloak with some ungrateful bastard like you?"
For a moment, the sound of footsteps stopped, as if the person who had produced it had come to a sudden halt.
"Oh, don't be such a whining baby, Potty!" Malfoy said in a low, hissing voice. "Choose another moment to act offended!" The footsteps could be heard again now. They were running out of time.
Without any further thinking, which would have caused him to do something completely unwise at the moment (transfiguring Malfoy's head into a potato was remarkably appealing), Harry grabbed the Cloak and threw it over himself and the Slytherin just in time to avoid Professor's Snape piercing gaze.
"Potter, is that you? Are you sneaking out of bed again? You are going to be very sorry, Potter, if I get my hands on you! Dumbledore won't be able to save you this time! Do you hear me, Potter? You'll get a lifetime of detentions!" Snape's voice's was so full of venom that it caused Harry to shudder.
Next to him, however, Malfoy was shaking with laughter. Harry was indignant. What was that idiot doing, trying to get them discovered? Knowing Malfoy, it wouldn't have been so unimaginable, but, surely, the smug git was more preoccupied to save his own skin right now! "Malfoy, you idiot," Harry hissed, "stop it! We'll get caught because of you!" but it didn't have the expected effect. Harry found it thus necessary to take some more concrete measures, so he punched the other boy in the ribs as hard as he could, and with no little satisfaction he did so.
Malfoy stopped moving and it was only fortunate, because Snape was right in front of them, almost touching Harry's right leg. For the second time that evening, Harry couldn't chase away the particularly annoying thought that he and Malfoy were sharing a very limited amount of space and the only way to be closer would be actually holding each other. Someone out there had a very perverted sense of humor! Harry wasn't sure for how long he would be able to keep his dinner inside his stomach if things continued this way.
Eventually, Professor Snape retreated back to the shadows and, again, the boys jumped from under the Cloak, looking positively sickened. And the next moment, Harry was sprawled on the floor.
"Malfoy, you bastard, what was that for?"
"Just call it getting even!" the other boy sneered.
"This cannot go on like this any longer, Malfoy!" Harry announced in a very sullen voice, standing up with some difficulty.
"Oh, really, Potter? And I was beginning to think that you enjoyed my company!" Malfoy retorted ironically. Harry scowled.
"You're such a genius, Potter! Of course it can't go on like this! So, any bright ideas, Wonder Boy?"
Harry looked even more morose before voicing the solution. "Well, Malfoy, you'll hate it as much as me… We could pay each other a compliment, then go our way!"
"I don't think so, Potter! I've paid your Mudblood friend a compliment today and it was enough to disturb my lunch. I don't have the slightest intention of praising the Boy-Who-Lived, too! However," and Malfoy looked particularly annoying at this point of his speech, "if you feel like telling me how I make a much better Seeker than you, by all means, don't hold back!"
"Dream on, Malfoy, dream on! You're the one who should be telling me that!"
"Do I have to spell it for you, Potty? NOT GOING TO HAPPEN!"
"Then what, you have a better plan?"
"As a matter of fact, I do!" Malfoy grinned.
"Well, are you going to share it in the near future?"
"Stop it, Potter! The mere thought of sharing something with you unsettles my stomach! Anyway, there it is: we go find a place where neither Filch nor any of the Professors can find us and wait for midnight."
"And then you'll hopefully turn back into a rodent or what? Lost me, Malfoy!"
"Slytherin help us! You are dense, Potter! The whole complimenting nonsense is suppose work only for a day, more precisely this day! As soon as it's midnight, it will be over and I can walk away from you as easily as before!"
As much as Harry hated to admit it, Malfoy made sense. So they needed a safe place to hide. (Merlin's beard, he, Harry Potter, was actually looking for a place, a safe place, to hide together with Draco Malfoy! Was that the end of the world?)
"Do you have any suggestions for a hideout, Malfoy?"
"What, Potter, I thought you knew all of them by now! If I had an Invisibility Cloak, I wouldn't waste it on trips to the kitchens solely! But then again, Gryffindors do think with their stomachs!"
"Shut your stupid mouth, Malfoy! I happen to know that the old Arithmacy classroom is around that corner." Harry pointed to the right. "We could go there, but-" Harry went suddenly silent.
"What's wrong, Potter? Too much eloquence for you tonight?"
Damn Malfoy and his annoying choice of words! He was only thirteen, he wasn't supposed to use words like 'eloquence' in a normal conversation. Not that him and Malfoy were actually having a normal conversation, Gryffindor forbid!
"No, Malfoy, I just realized that in order to get there we must use the Cloak again." Harry responded, with certain satisfaction at seeing the effect of his words on the other boy, but otherwise reluctant.
"Fine," Malfoy drawled. "Fine, Potter, but it will be the last time ever when I get that close to you!"
"Don't need to say that twice, Malfoy!"
And so, glaring at each other, the two boys wrapped the Cloak around them for the third and final time that evening and proceeded to the old Arithmacy classroom. Fortunately, it wasn't very far and soon, Harry was as far away as he could get from Draco Malfoy. Which was merely fifteen inches, but still.
"How long do you reckon we'll have to stay here?" Harry asked.
"It's as unpleasant for me as it is for you, Potter, so stop complaining!" Malfoy jumped.
"I was only asking a question. You're being paranoid, Malfoy!"
"Do I look like a bloody Oracle to you, Wonder Boy?"
"No, in fact, you look like a complete asshole with a bad hair day! And stop calling me that!" Harry was aware he was beginning to yell.
"Then stop picking on my hair!" the Slytherin retorted, in pretty much the same style.
"Hurt your pride, Malfoy? For someone who has pajamas like those you're wearing, you seem to have a lot of it!"
That had done it. Both boys had drawn their wands simultaneously and were pointing them at each other for the second time that night.
"Scared, Potter?"
"Scared, Malfoy?"
They stared at each other intensely for about a minute, without any of them taking action, but following very attentively their opponent's face and gestures. After the fore-mentioned lapse of time, it began to dawn to Harry that he couldn't remain in the same position forever. His right hand was already starting to feel numb.
"We're not getting anywhere like this, Malfoy!"
"Oh, you amaze me Potter! Didn't think you'd notice!"
"I'll put down my wand if you put down yours!"
By the quickness with which Malfoy agreed, Harry imagined his wand hand, too, was numb and painful. They counted to three and, next moment, both wands dropped on the floor. Then, for the next hour or so, they managed to stay perfectly silent, seated in one of the desks that looked less damaged, each ignoring the other as if he was alone in the room.
Harry's thoughts weren't particularly light at the time being. He felt miserable, which was not at all surprising, given the day he had had. And Malfoy knew about the Cloak. That alone was a disaster of apocalyptic dimensions!
"Malfoy!" Harry finally broke the silence. "Malfoy, are you asleep or are you dead already?"
"What do you want, Potter?"
"Guess you're not! Too bad though… Listen, Malfoy, you can't tell anyone about anything that happened here tonight!"
"Oh, and why would that be, Wonder Boy?"
"Because…" Harry did his best to sound menacing. "Because if you do, tomorrow the whole school will know that your pajamas have cute, little baby dragons on them!"
"You wouldn't, Potter!" Malfoy had sounded truly appalled this time.
"Oh, yes, I will!" Harry grinned.
"And, besides, this aren't my regular pajamas! I only had to wear those because Goyle spilled ink on my other pair! Just to clear things out!"
"Yeah, whatever, don't need to go into details! My point, Malfoy, is that, well… Do you want everybody to find out about this… this thing?" Somehow, Harry could see that Malfoy knew what he meant.
"Are you crazy, Potter? I'll do my best to forget about it as soon as I get out of this room!"
"Well, me too, but if you tell about it, everybody will talk, like, for ages! So I guess it's in your interest too, to hold your tongue!"
"Fine, Golden Boy! We'll make a pact! You don't tell, I don't tell. As soon as we leave this classroom, every memory of this cursed evening will be dead and buried for both of us!"
"I believe it's the first time we agree on something, Malfoy!" Hesitantly, Harry extended his hand to the Slytherin.
"Don't make it a habit, Potter!" Equally hesitant, Malfoy took the hand presented to him and thus the most improbable of the agreements was sealed.
Having nothing more to say to each other, the two boys resumed their former silence and places. Harry was beginning to feel truly tired. Half expecting to hear one of Malfoy's sneering comments, half not caring at all, he allowed his head to slip onto the desk in front of him. The Slytherin, however, didn't bother to notice and Harry only assumed that the boy next to him was just as exhausted as he felt.
Harry couldn't suppress a yawn. It had been the worst day in his life. First, Neville had had that stupid nightmare and woken them up much earlier than usual. Then everybody had been mad at them for that game of Exploding Snap, which hadn't even been his idea in the first place! Harry's eyelids dropped slowly. Then it had been the announcement… Harry could almost see Dumbledore's glowing face at breakfast. And the next thing he knew was that the madness had ensued. Funny at the beginning, he had to admit! Vaguely, he remembered a list… Professor Trelawney, checked. Harry shifted his head. That desk was so uncomfortable! Colin Creevey, checked. Yawn. Crabbe, checked. Double yawn. Malfoy, checked! Oh, wait, he was suppose to avoid the people on the list! Which explained why he felt so miserable right now. He had done a lousy job at it. Yawn. And the encounter with Malfoy had been the perfect horrible ending of a perfectly horrible day. The whole episode had been… Well, a-fully-awake-Harry would have said, absolutely horrid, but the currently-half-asleep-Harry thought about it as merely weird…
A voice drew him back from the dream state he was beginning to experience. A familiar, sneering voice.
"Sweet dreams then, Potter! Hope you get a sore neck in the morning!" Then he heard the door of the classroom being opened and then shut close, Malfoy's steps slowly fading away and it was music to Harry's ears...
Because it was official now. The worst day in Harry Potter's life was finally over.
~The End~