I really don't know where I was going with this chapter. It just happened and I couldn't stop it. Anyway I see that a lot of people are reading this, and I would greatly appreciate it if you'd leave a review. I'm happy to receive any constructive criticism or even suggestions, and getting reviews motivates me to write more often. So whether you're enjoying this story or hating it, please let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me, and I don't make any money by writing this story.

Chapter ten: Words of Wisdom

Harry returned to the embraces of the Hat the very same night. He couldn't stay away no matter how hard he tried. And he secretly loved the thrill of it.

Sometimes the hat was its usually sultry, seductive self. Other times it would try to play hard to get, and coy with Harry. It drove Harry wild. And it brought him back to the temptress every single time.

Wiping off the sweat on his forehead, Harry lit a cigarette. Sprawled naked on the floor of Dumbledore's office, with the hat strewn over his sweaty body, he sighed meaningfully and gently stroked his lover. "I could lie here all night with you," he cooed softly. "But alas, our time must end."

He finished his cigarette and got dressed, lovingly placing the hat back neatly onto the headmaster's desk. He extinguished the candles in the room and made his way to the Gryffindor common room.

Harry entered his dormitory quietly, hoping not to wake anyone. He tip-toed carefully to his bed and crawled in. He began to remove his glasses when a voice spoke out of the darkness - "where have you been?"

Ron hadn't been sleeping. It suddenly became apparent to Harry that he had been waiting all this time for him to return.

"Er... I was out," he answered.

"Out where? With whom?"

"Er..." Harry blurted out the first name that came to his mind. "Moaning Myrtle. I was just having tea with her."

Despite the darkness, Harry could see Ron sitting up in his bed. "You were having tea, with Moaning Myrtle... at one in the morning..."

"Yeah, well, what can I say, mate? Fame is a fickle friend. A friend in need is a friend indeed. A rolling stone gathers no moss. All that glitters is probably unicorn dung. You can't get blood out of a stone, unless you sacrifice a Hufflepuff at the Shrieking Shack at midnight on a full moon."

"What the hell was all that rubbish?"

"That, my friend, were some valuable proverbs meant to aid you in your day-to-day life," Harry answered wisely. "Now, this chat has been great, but it's late and time to go to sleep. Good night, mate!"

He pulled his covers over his head and turned away. Although he couldn't see his friend, Harry could still feel Ron lying on the bed next to him with his eyes wide open and brimming with tears.

On Monday afternoon, Draco noticed that a group of Gryffindors were missing in the Great Hall during lunch. His suspicions were immediately aroused. What was Potter up to?

"Why do you care what Potter's doing, anyway?" asked Blaise Zabini.

Draco scoffed. "Me, care about Potter's whereabouts? As if!"

But he silently consulted the notebook he kept on Harry Potter and noted that Harry had no classes, appointments, or meetings that he knew of at the moment. Draco found this very curious.

He decided to take it upon himself to investigate the matter. Crabbe and Goyle followed him on their search for Potter, bumbling around awkwardly behind him. He was not in the library, in any of the corridors they passed by, or in any empty classrooms. He wasn't in the Room of Requirements, or Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, or even in the secret Hogwarts swimming pool. Wherever could Potter be?

The search party continued outdoors, and finally the boys came upon an unusual occurrence: a group of Gryffindors quietly sitting on the courtyard in a circle. "What's could this possibly be?" Draco wondered out loud.

Thinking fast, he pulled Crabbe and Goyle into a huddle and told them his plan. "Right, so we're going to walk over there, and this is what needs to happen, so listen closely. I'm going to strut casually, looking real cool, and I need you two to follow behind me and look tough. Keep up with me, you hear? Don't keep stumbling into each other as you always do, that'll look really uncool, guys. Then I'll be all like, 'oh Potter, what are you doing here?', and I'll stand there looking all cool, maybe flex my muscles a bit. Crabbe, I'll need you to stand two steps behind me to my right, and Goyle, you'll be in the left, okay? Got that? Crabbe, I want you to put your hands on your hips and tilt your nose slightly upwards – yeah, like that… Goyle, maybe you should scratch your chin, like you're pondering something deep. Got that? Good. Look really tough, guys, that's most important!"

Draco took a deep breath busted out his best strut as he made his way toward the group. He needed his strut to send out the message that he was only nonchalantly cruising through the castle, and not frantically searching for Potter. He hoped that the other two were keeping up with his pace and didn't look like gigantic idiots. Draco very carefully acted as if he had noticed Harry for the first time.

"What's this now? Potter – is that you, Potter? What are you doing here?"

The Gryffindors did not looked pleased at this interruption. "We're trying to have a book club meeting, if you don't mind!" Harry retorted.

Draco was so caught off-guard that he didn't notice Crabbe and Goyle collide into each other as they struggled to catch up to Draco with their fat, trollish legs. "A book club? Since when do you have a book club?"

"Since this very afternoon," Harry said proudly. "We're discussing some very important themes, ones which you likely wouldn't understand, so we would greatly appreciate it if you could kindly piss off!"

Draco's jaw dropped open at this rudeness. He caught a glimpse of the book they were all holding, and realized with a sting that it was the very book he had been reading of late.

Draco didn't know how to reply. The thought that Potter had begun a book club to discuss this particular book, which was so dear to him, and had not invited Draco was just too painful. His heart broke even more when he saw that they had arranged a delightful food trolley, piled high with finger sandwiches, jugs of pumpkin juice, and cake – chocolate cake, his favorite, and the Dark Lord's.

His lower lip began to quiver, but he tried desperately to hide it. "F-fine, go on w-with your rubbish b-b-b-book club," he retorted, trembling. "I certainly have no desire to – to be a part of this n-non-nonsense!"

Harry smirked and rolled his eyes at Draco. "Actions speak louder than words, my friend."

Draco was so taken aback that he stopped trembling. "What is that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

"What I meant by those wise words of mine, is that you say that you have no affinity for our book club, yet your tears say otherwise."

The Gryffindors opened their eyes wide, clearly impressed by Harry's insight.

Draco was too furious to cry. "That is bullocks and you know it Potter! I care nothing about your stupid little book club! And you're not wise – you're a – you're a – you're a pathetic Half-blood orphan and you have fat elbows!" he spluttered.

Everybody's jaw dropped at this harsh jab at Harry's elbows and they waited in shock for his response.

For a moment, Harry said nothing, but then he smiled and slowly shook his head. "Draco, Draco, Draco. Don't you know, 'tis better to remain silent and be thought a Hufflepuff, than to speak and remove all doubt."

Silence. Then a roar of whooping from the proud Gryffindors, who were astonished and speechless at this sick burn.

Draco's face was turning scarlet with rage. "You think your silly words hurt me, Potter?" he scoffed. "You think you're so wise, calling me a Hufflepuff, but everyone knows that your proverbs stink worse than Snape's hair on sunny day! That's right, I went there," he nodded proudly as a chorus of "oooooohs", "buuuuuuuurn" and "oh HELL no!" followed his words.

Harry was insulted, but he tried not to show it. "What, Malfoy, you think you can sling more suave proverbs than me? Prove me wrong! I challenge you to a proverb-battle, right here, right now."

Draco sweated nervously as he looked around. Quite a large crowd of students, as well as a couple of teachers, had gathered around now to witness this spontaneous battle of words. "What's the matter? Are you chicken?"

"Of course not, Potter! I'm just thinking of how I can destroy you and still allow you to hang on to the last bit of your dignity!"

"He talks the talk, but can he walk the walk?" Harry grinned to a cheering crowd.

"Oooh, zing!" cried Professor Flitwick.

"Yeah, well – well –" Draco racked his brain frantically to come up with a response. "If you can't stand the heat, then – then turn your thermostat down! Or take off your jumper!"

He crossed his arms proudly, but his attempt at a proverb was met with jeering boos and laughter.

Harry's smile grew wider as he replied, "laugh and the world laughs with you; weep, and you weep alone."

"OH. SNAP," shouted Flitwick among the claps.

Draco was sweating with fury and growing embarrassment. "Misery loves company!" he shouted hastily, and the crowd was silenced. Swift murmurs were heard, and the crowd ultimately decided that this was an acceptable comeback.

Phew, Draco thought, wiping sweat off his brow. He grinned at his opponent. "What do you say to that, Potter?"

But Harry was not willing to lose. With a deep breath, he hurled at Malfoy the best proverbs he could conjure in his mind within seconds: "Oil and dragon blood don't mix! Gringotts wasn't built in a day! Speak softly and carry a Blast-Ended Skrewt! Good things come to the Hufflepuff who recites twenty-three limericks on Mount Sinai during the monsoon!"

His face was flushed by the time he finished, and his supporters broke into burst of fresh cheers. Ron handed him a water bottle, which he drained in one gulp as he gasped for breath.

"Now," he said calmly to Draco. "Your turn."

Draco knew it was over before he even opened his mouth. He knew there was no chance of him beating Potter, that wise bastard, but it was too late to turn back now. The crowd waited with heavy anticipation for his response.

And he weakly spit out: "The pen is mightier than – than no pen! There are plenty of tomatoes in the sea! Jeremy, those aren't your sunglasses!"

There was complete silence. No one in the crowd seemed sure of how to react to this pitiful response.

"What, the hell, was that?" asked Harry, both astonished and sympathetic at this level of humiliation Draco had brought onto himself. "None of those are proverbs, nor do they contain any bit of wisdom. And there aren't plenty of tomatoes in the sea."

Draco's lip began to quicker once more, and this time he couldn't stop himself from bursting into tears. "M-my f-f-father will hear about this!" he shouted as he ran out of the courtyard in humiliation.

The crowd began to cheer and applaud. "Well done, Mr. Potter, well done!" exclaimed Professor Flitwick. Harry smirked and took a bow.

The only person who wasn't enjoying any of this was Hermione Granger, who had only shown up to spy on Malfoy, since she hadn't been invited to the book club meeting. "This is the weirdest and stupidest thing I've seen all week," she said to Harry, wiping the grin off his face, "and that's including your affair with the Sorting Hat and you giving Malfoy a vagina."

Everybody booed at Hermione. "Get out of here, Mudblood!" some shouted.

"I really hate this school," she muttered furiously under her breath as she left the courtyard.