Note: Hiya, all, next chapter ready. And the party goes on... and on... and on. Because I have a whole bunch of characters who all demand some limelight, and a whole bunch of wonderful amazing fabulous readers who demand things like more romance, less romance, more Draco, less Draco... But I wouldn't want it any other way. :D So, feel free to demand all kinds of things from me, contradicting or not. ;)
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The Founding of Pigwarts III – Chaos Is Served
Chapter 2: Hurt, Heal, and Spike the Punch
"Aha!" Fred announced triumphantly.
"What? Where? Who?" George started, twirling around and whining much like a Sneakoscope.
"I found the kitchen," Fred declared proudly, pushing open the high double-doors and revealing to their sight the room behind, which was indeed a kitchen.
"You found the kitchen?" the other twin fixed him with a narrowed gaze. "For some reason I seem to recall it was I who pointed us in the right direction. You looked pretty determined that the kitchen was masked as a broom closet, and we should stay there and wait until it gets used to us and reverts back to its original shape."
"I still say that that broom closet was the shortcut into the kitchens."
"No, it wasn't, and you know it very well. You just wanted to continue admiring that Firebolt Gold."
"So? It's a very admirable broom. And it would have taken us to the kitchen faster."
"Hmm," said George, contemplating that. "Perhaps we should go back for it."
"Good idea! Then I can prove you we would have got here faster on it. Haa!"
"Actually, I was thinking we might need a quick way of escape."
Fred grinned, and rubbed his hands together, the words of his brother reminding him that this had been one of those rare cases when they had not been searching for the kitchen for food. Or perhaps not only for food, since he was not going to deny himself a bite or two now that they were already here.
"All right," he spoke, stepped into the room and pulled George with him, pushing the doors shut behind them. "We've got some spiking to do."
"You mean we've got some punching to do?" George corrected him.
"Perhaps later. As you idiotically dragged me away from that broom before I managed to grab it, we might need to fight our way out of here. I would have preferred a flight, but..."
"You had plenty of time to grab it," George scoffed. "By the look of it, you wanted to marry it."
"Of course, I could do some punching right now, as well. Oh, there you are, George."
"No, you moron, we have to make the punch first, remember? We went to spike the punch but came to the horrible conclusion that there was no punch, and then I suggested spiking the champagne instead, but you told me that we are punch-spikers, and I told you we are official punch-spikers but we could always spike the champagne quite unofficially, but you argued that it wouldn't do, and got the idea that when there was no punch, we could always make some, we only had to find the kitchens, and that wasn't too hard because no one can hide a kitchen from us because we have this special nose for the faintest hint of food, although now it seems that your nose is much more oriented to brooms."
"Mmm, you should try this pie, it's really good."
"Fred, are you listening to me?"
"And the waffles are rather delicious as well."
---
"I can't believe this!" Millicent fumed, staring at the back of a storming off Harry Potter. Against all the rules of nature which say that whenever you really have to find someone, especially when it's a person you normally wouldn't socialize with, they seem to have disappeared into thin air and you may go round and round and round but you will never find them, Blaise and Millicent had managed to locate Potter rather quickly by the flashes of light from Colin's camera, a benefit that comes with fame. Yet they were still in for a disappointment.
"Neither could he," Blaise marked sourly, the chances of him winning the bet dropping soundly.
"We save him from the reporters, and he calls us scheming manipulative prats!" she continued to seethe.
"Are you saying we are not?" Blaise raised his brow.
"Of course we are, but I didn't like the way he said it."
"You are just angry that he didn't believe us."
"Aren't you?" Millicent countered. "From the goodness of my heart I take pity on the poor sod kept in dark and lied to by his best friends, and he can't even believe the truth I'm telling him and go cause a scene."
"I think it's your fault," Blaise remarked after a while. "You just aren't trustworthy enough."
---
"Can you believe it?" the poor sod kept in dark was currently recounting the incident to his wife. "Zabini and Bulstrode came to me and told me that Hermione is dating Malfoy!"
Ginny gasped.
"Those little evil manipulative snakes!"
"Exactly!" Harry agreed, nodding vigorously. "I didn't believe them of course, but if they keep spreading this false rumour, it might ruin Hermione's reputation."
"I'll go tell them off," she promised, hurrying away to do exactly that. How dare they attempt to ruin the party by telling her husband the thing she had so carefully kept from him? Evil, evil Slytherins. Not very surprising, though.
Left alone, Harry looked around in the room, hoping to notice someone else he could rant about the evil manipulative Slytherins to, or get a glimpse of Parvati before she saw him and slip away to some better hiding place. Oh, those damn benefits of fame.
"Harry!"
Startled, he wheeled towards the sound, then heaved a sigh of relief as the person standing in front of him was not Parvati.
"Thank Merlin you're not Parvati," he voiced his thoughts.
"Thank Merlin indeed," Hermione snickered. "Is she giving you much trouble?"
"Enough," Harry cringed.
"Just remember to talk a lot about Pigwarts," she taught him. "You might throw in a couple of juicy facts of your honeymoon, as well, to keep her interested…"
"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed in shock and horror.
"… but whatever you tell her about your life, try to mention the school as much as possible," she finished, not letting him interrupt her.
"I'll do my best," Harry replied wryly, not very happy with getting such instructions from his friend, who apparently wanted him to spend the entire evening conversing with the reporters.
"I know you hate all this media attention," Hermione gave him an apologetic smile, noticing his sullen look, "but this school needs it, and we need it if we want to get it running smoothly. Just a few more hours, do you think you could do this, Harry?"
He smiled and gave her a nod, his bad mood starting to evaporate. After all, he was doing it for her, and for Ginny, and for all of them, and for the greater good of the wizarding world. It was something that would have made Dumbledore proud of him, and thinking about all this gave him strength and improved his spirits considerably. In fact, it heightened his mood so much that he was ready to tease his friend a bit.
"So," he winked at her, "what is this story I'm hearing about you and Malfoy?"
Hermione paled, and her mouth fell open, and he had to suppress his laughter.
"What? Who? When? What did they tell you?"
"For some reason, Zabini and Bulstrode were rather certain that you are not only dating Malfoy, but sharing a bed with him as well."
"Harry…" she almost pleaded, then halted her words and took a deep breath, preparing herself for what would come once she told him the truth. "Everything those two intriguers spoke of is absolutely…"
"Rubbish, I know," Harry cut her through, not able to contain his amusement any longer. "Don't worry, Hermione, I don't believe a word they say. I was just teasing you."
"Harry…"
"Sorry. Bad joke."
"Not that, Harry, it's just that…"
"There you are."
Harry wheeled around once more, eyes narrowing as he saw who was approaching them, but not all the humour had been lost, and he couldn't help a mental grin as he heard Hermione silently whisper, "Talk of the devil…"
"Potter," Malfoy snapped harshly, not too pleased about the fact that now that he had finally found Hermione, she just had to be with the hero-boy.
"Malfoy," Harry replied with equal coldness.
Draco glared at him for another moment, then decided to simply ignore his presence, and turned to Hermione, moving towards her.
Who, in turn, realizing at once what he intended to do and horrified at the prospect of Harry witnessing it, especially after he had discarded the very idea as utterly ridiculous, panicked and acted before thinking, taking a small but noticeable step backwards.
Oh, but a second too late did she realize her mistake. Draco's eyes flashed, first with surprise and then with pain, and the hand he had raised to softly brush against her cheek or hair, fell to his side as his expression turned icy.
In a new wave of panic that had absolutely nothing to do with the former one, Hermione opened her mouth to correct her mistake, but Harry was quicker. He, too, had noticed her backwards step, and he could also see the harsh look on Malfoy's face, and just like Ron a few months ago, he also jumped to the very wrong conclusion.
"Leave her alone, Malfoy," he threatened quietly. "It's enough that your little friends go around and tell everybody these terrible lies about you and Hermione, probably on your orders, but I will not let you hurt and harass her in front of me."
Hermione made a mental note to tear Blaise and Millicent into little pieces and feed them to Hippogriffs, or at least chain them to a dungeon wall and have Ron sing to them, when she realized that instead of planning revenge she should rather speak up and remedy what could be remedied.
"Parvati, here!" she shouted, then pushed Harry towards the girl rushing at them, and turned just in time to see Draco leaving the hall.
Harry was looking most surprised and shocked, and even a little doubtful, but at the moment she really couldn't have cared any less, and without even sparing his friend a glance, she ran after her beloved.
Harry watched her go, completely ignoring the string of inquiries directed at him, and after a moment of hesitation he hurried after Hermione, determined to get his questions answered and confusion sorted out, not even noticing that Parvati and Colin were still on his tail.
---
"Damn!" Hermione swore silently under her breath, running up the stairs taking two steps at the time, praying that she wouldn't trip over the hem of her robes. What a shame one couldn't fall up the stairs. She knew where he was going, though, and fortunately for her the balcony was not on the uppermost floor.
And they say I'm predictable, she thought, slipping through the half open doors and finding him by the railing, just like she had expected.
"It's not what it looked like," Hermione stated stubbornly, cringing at how awfully cliché it sounded. "I just didn't want him to make a scene."
"You haven't told him yet," he spoke coldly, not turning around to face her.
"I thought he knew," she shrugged, telling the truth. Harry's unawareness had come as a surprise to her, although it had come as a surprise to her a couple of weeks ago, a fact she left conveniently unmentioned.
"Or perhaps you thought it would all be over before he comes back from his honeymoon?" he suggested cruelly.
"What would all be over?" Hermione frowned.
"What do you think?"
"They way you said it indicates that you are talking about us, but surely..."
"Surely what?"
"Surely you aren't that stupid," she finished with a glare.
"Now I'm stupid as well, ah? I guess there's no reason to continue this. Have a nice life," he growled, whirled around, and would have swept out of the door rather dramatically, had she not been blocking his exit, and refusing to move.
"Have a nice life?" she repeated, her tone turning dark and eyes flashing dangerously. "My life is not going to get anywhere near nice without you, and let me tell you something – neither will yours."
"You're threatening me?" Draco asked, forgetting some of his anger in surprise.
"Damn right I'm threatening you," she assured, shaking her finger at him to prove her point.
"I can plead, too, you know," she added after a moment, scowling deeply.
"Hermione..."
She glared at him for a while longer, then sighed, her features relaxing and turning wistful.
"I love you, Draco. Please don't doubt me. It hurts."
"Hermione?" he asked, giving her a very intent look again.
"Yes?" she raised her gaze, preparing for the worst and hoping for the best.
"Will you marry me?"
Okay, now that clearly exceeded her wildest hopes. But for some reason the shock and bewilderment disappeared quicker than she would have guessed, and all that was left behind was total conviction. Sure about the answer she was about to give, Hermione opened her mouth.
"No!"
There was nothing unclear about this answer, and for one moment Draco felt like jumping off some tower, preferably a high one for he didn't want to keep on suffering after the fall with several broken bones in addition to his broken heart, before he realized that the answer hadn't come from Hermione at all.
"No! No! No! No!" Harry repeated, just in case he hadn't been heard before. "In no bloody way is she going to marry you. Not in my lifetime."
The idea of throwing Potter off some tower, preferably a high one, so that he wouldn't have to listen to his wailing afterwards, sounded much more appealing to Draco than jumping down himself, or perhaps it was because his girlfriend hadn't turned him down after all.
"Harry!" Hermione hissed, clearly upset. "Now is not the right time. Could you hold on for a second, please."
"Sure, Herm..." he began almost automatically, but checked himself and put on the darkest glare he could manage. "No, I can't hold on for a second. How long has this been going on?"
"Approximately twelve seconds," she replied. "Before that we were arguing, and before that I was running."
This wasn't quite the answer that Harry was expecting, but unfortunately his confusion only lasted another twelve seconds, and then he was back to all anger.
"How long have you two been dating?" he demanded.
"Three weeks, right?" Hermione turned to Draco, who nodded.
Three weeks, Harry thought, that's not too bad. Wait... he's proposing to her after ONLY three weeks?
"Year minus three weeks," Hermione replied with a smile.
"YEAR!!!" Harry exploded.
"I thought you knew," she used the same argument again, which also happened to be the truth. "It was in the papers after all."
"You told me it was all a scam!"
"You were yelling at me!" she defended herself. "I thought it might be better to let someone else tell you this."
"You wanted someone else to do your dirty job?"
"Basically, yes," Hermione replied, wondering why what had seemed like the most brilliant idea before, now felt like an evil sneaky Slytherinish thing to do. Then she wondered why none of those adjectives sounded negative any more.
"You mean like Zabini and Bulstrode?"
"Or Daphne. Or Ginny. Or Ron. Or someone else."
"Ron knows? Wait, Ginny knows?"
"Everybody knows," Hermione admitted. "Except you."
"Don't you just stand there like a moron!" Parvati snapped at her photographer, who was following the scene with open jaw and bulging eyes. "Use your camera, for Rita's sake."
"Oh, this is wonderful," she muttered to herself, turning back to the scene on the balcony. "This is better than Pigwarts. This might be even better than the Potters' honeymoon."
---
"No, Fred," George shook his head. "I don't think flour goes in a punch."
"Doesn't flour go everywhere?" Fred mused, staring at the jar filled with white powder he was currently holding over the bowl of punch.
"Not in punch," his twin seemed convinced.
"Perhaps we should ask the house-elves?" Fred suggested, refusing to put down the flour.
"I told you we should have asked the house-elves to make the punch in the first place," George insisted, giving the liquid a suspicious glare.
"It looks fine to me."
"It's blue," George pointed out.
"No, I think it's azure. It still looks pretty."
"It looks like it will jump out of the bowl any moment now and eat us alive."
"So?"
"It usually doesn't do it before the spiking."
Fred circled the bowl, staring at its content from every angle, until finding the one where the constantly moving swirls and bubbles reflected the light in the prettiest way, and came to a stop.
"It just needs some flour," he shrugged, and emptied the whole jar into it.
---
The universal laws worked for Ginny (in addition to her furious stomping and angry aura that announced her coming better than any amount of trumpets could), and she simply couldn't find Blaise and Millicent. But she managed to bump into Daphne, and for the moment, that was good enough.
"What are your housemates up do?" she demanded from her friend.
"No good, I'm sure," she winked. "What did they do?"
"Blaise and Millicent just told Harry that Hermione is sleeping with Malfoy!"
Daphne gasped.
"They told the truth! Now that must be a first."
"Yes, well," Ginny agreed, not able to argue with that. "But they are ruining the party."
"They are Slytherins," she replied, as if this explained everything. It sort of did, actually.
"But it's their school, too," the redhead protested.
"In a way. But they didn't steal the Forbidden Forest. They didn't go to a CIA meeting. They didn't hang from a fourth floor window sill. They didn't listen to a Giant singing. They didn't flirt with Eriksson and Nilsson and Persson, only to fall in love with a cow."
"What does that have to do with anything?" Ginny frowned.
"They didn't found the school."
"No, I meant the cow thing," she clarified.
"Oh," Daphne grinned. "It doesn't."
"But what am I going to do!" Ginny wailed.
"Weren't you planning to reveal the statue tonight?"
"What am I going to do with those evil scheming Slytherins!"
"Get everybody outside and reveal the statue."
"And how is that going to help?" the redhead snapped.
"Well, it's darker outside, isn't it? Garden lights aren't that bright as the chandeliers. And knowing Blaise and Millicent, they will certainly pick the gloomiest corner to watch the show."
"So?"
"So we sneak up on them, hex them from behind, and leave them there," Daphne suggested.
"That's cruel!" Ginny exclaimed.
"That's perfect!" she added with an evil smirk that she hadn't had the opportunity to use for a while now. Oh, how good it felt!
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Note: The flour idea comes from BlueSphinx's "Friends Forever?", and it's brilliant - both the idea and the story.
Was it a good idea to add flour to the punch? Is Harry ever going to stop yelling? What will the article in the Daily Prophet be about? Will Draco receive his answer? Does anyone get thrown off some tower, preferable a high one? How will Daphne's evil plan turn out? What is the statue like? Stay tuned to get these and perhaps some other questions answered next time on Pigwarts, the home of wicked scheming, devilish plotting, and general sneakiness!
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