7 – The Last Laugh

"I had a dream about you last night. The champagne was non-alcoholic. You didn't notice, and laughed at my jokes anyway."
― Michael Summers, I Had a Dream About You

...

It was a dream. Nothing but a dream. And it had nothing to do with her. Right? But then why couldn't Haley stop thinking about it? And why did she feel so bad? Malfoy had finally got a taste of his own medicine. Wasn't this what she had wanted? Not like this, she thought. The git probably didn't even remember it. Or did he? Even if he did, this hadn't been her revenge. It had just been a stupid nightmare. But then why did she feel so bad about it? And what in Merlin's name did Neville have to do with all of this?

"Um, Haley? We're not supposed to repot the tigerlilies today. Professor Sprout said all we're doing today is feeding them and cutting their claws," Neville informed her and gently removed her hand from the pot where she had started digging.

"What? But didn't she say we were going to repot them?" She asked confusedly.

"Yes, but not until next week," he replied with a kind smile, before turning back to his own tigerlilies. For a moment, Haley watched him patiently cutting the claws of the tigerlilies. He seemed so contend doing that. It was such a different picture compared to the version of him she had seen in Malfoy's dream last night. Should she ask him about it? But what should she ask?

"Neville?" She asked, trying for a neutral tone.

"Hm?"

"You know… about Malfoy..."

Neville turned back to her at once. "Malfoy? Did he do something to you again?"

"No, no, no! That's not..." She raised her hands, waving them back and forth to emphasise her point. "I just… I was wondering if, you know… if you and Malfoy ever… if there was something…" Why was it so hard to ask a simple question?

Neville frowned at her. "Me and Malfoy? What-? What are you talking about?"

"Did you ever… I don't know… fight – or something?"

"Fight?" He echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"Um… yes?"

Neville turned away from her and started feeding his tigerlilies with dirigible plums. "Why do you ask?" He questioned lightly. But something about his voice sounded strange. And he wasn't even looking at her.

"Just because," she offered with a shrug. "So, did you have a fight with him?"

The boy in question shook his head and mumbled. "Not that I remember."

"Are you sure?" She inquired.

"Yeah." He grinned. "Do you want me to hex him?"

His words conjured up a much too vivid image of Malfoy's dream in front of her inner eye. She almost shuddered at the memory of the Slytherin screaming Crucio at Neville.

"No, that's okay," Haley quickly assured her friend. "It's just-" She bit her lips. How was she supposed to approach the topic without revealing what she had seen in last night's dream?

"Never mind." She replied instead, while she reached for her pair of scissors and proceeded to work on her tigerlilies.

"Here, take mine. I sharpened them just now," Neville told her, before offering his pair of scissors to her.

"Thanks," she replied, taking the scissors from his warm and calloused hands. He wasn't even wearing gloves. But then, he hadn't even gotten a scratch when they had worked with the biting beans. He just had a way with plants. Maybe they sensed his unwavering kindness and compassion. Haley felt stupid. How could she have ever thought he somehow played a part in Malfoy's nightmare?

…

They went back to the castle for lunch and as they reached the Entrance Hall, Haley spotted Malfoy, leaning against the banisters of the staircase. He almost seemed like he was waiting for something. There was a thoughtful, almost pensieve air about him. When they passed him an annoying smirk appeared on his face.

"Hey Potter, what happened to your skin? The green looked so good on you. I have this poison green scarf that would have suited your skin tone perfectly. I could have lent it to you."

"Leave her alone, Malfoy," Neville said calmly. His voice might have been calm but there was something threatening in his gaze. The Slytherin sneered at him angrily, which uncomfortably reminded Haley of the unsettling dream.

"Don't worry, Neville, I can handle it," she quickly intervened, stepping between the two boys.

"Are you sure?" Her friend asked with obvious concern.

"Yes," she assured him. "Why don't you go on ahead and save me a seat? I'll be there in a moment."
The boy's eyes lingered on Haley's face for a moment before trailing over to Malfoy.

"If you're sure," he muttered. She nodded, giving him a small smile. After a last glance at the other boy, Neville turned around and made his way over toward the Great Hall. Looking back at the Slytherin, she found him watching her with a raised eyebrow.

"How brave of you." He drawled mockingly. "Sending your golden knight away to face the big bad Slytherin all alone."

Haley rolled her eyes. She couldn't stand the git. Why was she doing this again? And what was she doing in the first place? For a moment she had toyed with the idea of apologizing to him. But she quickly thought better of it. How was it her fault that the idiot had had such an awful dream? Everyone had nightmares. Why should she feel sorry for that? Well, she had witnessed his breakdown without his knowledge. So, there was that. But that was really the only thing she felt bad about. And she couldn't just go and say 'Sorry, for peaking at you in your dream last night. Won't happen again, promise'. That was ridiculous. So, she simply looked at him while she tried to come up with a suitable response.

"What are you staring at?" He asked with a sneer.

"I'm-" she bit her lips, before the word 'sorry' could escape.

"You're what, Potter? Too daft to talk?"
All the sympathy she felt vanished at once.

"I know it was you who took my notebook. So, I suggest you give it back," she spat, planting her hand on her hip and narrowing her eyes at him.

"Your notebook," he scoffed. "Are you calling me a thief right now?"

"What if I am?" She asked in return.

"Careful, Potter. I am a prefect, remember. And I would suggest you take better care of your belongings before you start randomly accusing innocent people." Malfoy said all of that very calmly, making her feel like she was a stupid, immature child. She wanted to scream. He knew that she was right. His smug grin was practically spelling it out. But she didn't have any evidence. She would have to break into his dorm room in order to prove it.

"You know what? Forget it." She hissed, cursing herself for expecting any decency from the boy.

"Forget what?" Malfoy scoffed but Haley had already turned away from him and started marching in the direction of the Great Hall. She really should have known better.

…

It was silly. She didn't owe the git anything. Still… she felt like she could at least do this much. She could stay away from his dreams for one night. And at the same time this would please her mum. So, Haley decided to sleep like a normal person for once. She fell asleep surprisingly quickly. And in the morning her body thanked her by feeling rested and energetic. Even Hermione noticed that she seemed less tired than usual.

"You seem much more relaxed now," she commented during breakfast. "For a moment I thought the stress was too much on you."

"I'm fine, Hermione." She told her friend. "I simply needed a good night of sleep." It wasn't even a lie Haley noted. She wondered if she would ever be able to tell Hermione about her dream adventures. Probably not without her friend going ballistic.

"I still think we should tell Professor McGonnagall about your dad's book. She could make sure Malfoy has to give it back to you." Hermione advised, while spreading pumpkin jam across her slice of toast.

"We can't!" Ron piped up. "Then McGonnagall is gonna keep it and we will never see it again."

"And it won't make a difference anyway," Haley said resignedly. "The prat has probably memorised the whole book by now."

Hermione didn't argue with that. She didn't have to. She knew Haley was right.

…

She really should have seen it coming. All day the castle had been too quiet. Almost suspiciously so. Malfoy hadn't even sent a glare at her for the way she had called him a thief the day before. So, when she reached for the last treacle tart at dinner and a pale hand snatched the treat away before she could yell Wait!, she should have realised something was wrong.

"Oops. Don't tell me you wanted to eat that," Malfoy drawled in mock-surprise. He demonstratively took a giant bite of the treacle tart, before grimacing. "Ew, this tastes awful. Do you want to have the rest?" He offered the sad rest of the treacle tart to her with a mocking grin.

"Not in your dreams, Malfoy," Haley replied, trying not to show how much he was getting to her.

"Don't say I didn't offer," the Slytherin said and handed the treat to Crabbe who was standing behind him.

"There are still some on our end!" Exclaimed a voice from the other end of the Gryffindor table. It was Colin Creevey who was excitedly running over to her, before placing a full tray of treacle tarts in front of her triumphantly.

"Thank you, Colin," Haley said warmly. He was really sweet. And somehow his sweetness reminded her of her brother, Simon. She smiled.

"Looks like your plan didn't work out after all." Haley said smugly, her eyes resting on Malfoy's while she grabbed one of the treacle tarts and slowly took a bite, savouring the taste.

Malfoy only shrugged, his smirk widening. "I guess you're too clever for me, Potter." He admitted. But what bothered her was his smirk. Why in Merlin's name was he smirking like that?

"Stop smirking you-" Haley clapped her hand in front of her mouth. Was that her voice? Why did it sound like she was trying to imitate a chipmunk?

"What did you do to me you prat?" She squeaked, sounding terribly close to a mouse.
That's when the boy in question and his Slytherin friends burst into roaring laughter. And they weren't the only ones. Some of the members of her own house were also joining in the laughter. Even Neville was fighting off a grin. Haley felt her face flame up in embarrassment. Could this get any worse?

"You absolute git!" She screeched, getting up from her seat. She wished she could simply vanish into thin air. But perhaps dramatically rushing out of the Great Hall would be enough for the moment? She proceeded to do exactly that when a voice stopped her from taking even one step.

"Haley, don't you want to eat up?"
The girl in question turned back around slowly. Neville was holding her forgotten treacle tart in his fingers and looking at her expectantly. It seemed like he had been the one talking to her but the voice hadn't sounded like his at all. It had sounded at least two octaves higher.

"I honestly don't know what your problem is, Malfoy. They're delicious!" Neville said to Malfoy, his voice sounding almost as high as Haley's.

"Hey Fred, what d'you reckon is in there?" George Weasley piped up in an equally squeaky tone.

"Don't know, but we should definitely take a sample for later." His twin brother replied with an unnaturally high giggle.

It was incredibly touching what her friends were doing for her. And now, she could even appreciate the humour in all of this. Everyone just sounded so ridiculous that she found herself laughing. She glanced at Malfoy. The sour look on his face made her only laugh more. It seemed like he had lost this round.

"Who has the last laugh, now, Malfoy?" She asked him, not caring about her squeaky voice any longer.
Malfoy snorted. "We'll see." He sneered, before stalking out of the Great Hall, closely followed by his entourage.

...ooo...

Is this a bad idea? Will Malfoy realise that I'm not the real Goyle? Probably not… In a dream it's not that unusual that your friends act different sometimes, right? The more pressing question is whether the Slytherin is really going to tell his friends about his most intimate thoughts. Well, there is only one way to find out.

I walk down the dream corridor, trying to imitate the way Goyle walks. Am I doing this right? To the left there is my brother's dream door. It's been a while since I last visited him. His door looks terribly inviting. For a moment I just stand there, wishing I could see his welcoming face for a bit. But unfortunately there are other things I have to take care of.

"What are you doing here?" Asks a familiar voice out of the blue. I turn around but there's no one there. Huh?

"I'm here," says the voice and then I spot something fluttering close to my face. It's a tiny human with leathery, dragonlike wings that glimmer in different colours of the rainbow. It's my mum.
I can only gape at her. She is full of surprises. And currently no taller than my thumb.

"Were you going to visit your brother, love?" She asks, nodding toward Simon's door.
I shake my head, still transfixed by the flapping of her wings. Then I realise something.

"Wait. How did you know it's me?" As far as I can see I still have the appearance of Gregory Goyle.
Mum knocks at the lens of my glasses. "I know those glasses, poppet," she remarks with a grin.
Right. Maybe I should take off my glasses. I take them off and store them inside the pocket of my Slytherin robes.

"So, where are you headed looking like this?" Mum asks curiously.

"Well… you know." I offer, making vague gestures in the direction I was heading.

"I see. You're on a secret mission. Has your stalking been successful so far?" She questions, tugging at a strand of my short hair.

"It's not stalking," I protest weakly. In a way it could be considered stalking. And we both know it.

"If you say so," mum replies, letting go of my hair. "But… just so you know, if you have questions or if there is anything you don't understand, just ask me. Dreaming is my speciality!" She exclaims while flying upwards in a spiral. She looks like a ballerina. With dragon wings. This is so surreal.

"Well, now that you mention it, there is something I've been wondering about," I muse.

"Yes?" Mum has stopped twirling around in circles and is floating down now so she can meet my eyes.

"I was… in someone's dream the other night… And then all of a sudden he disappeared and everything else vanished as well. Even the dream door. There was literally nothing there beside me." I end my tale with a shrug. It had been terrible. I had been feeling so lost and lonely. I don't ever want to repeat that experience again.

"Ah, I see," mum remarks, touching her chin with her tiny finger. "He must have woken up."

"Really?" I ask. It seems like such an easy and logical explanation. I could have deduced that myself.
Mum, the dragon fairy, nods.

"But… when that happens. Is there any way to get out or back to the corridor?" That had been the worst. Not knowing when or if I was ever going to escape the nothingness.

"I'm afraid, the only way to get out is to wait until you wake up," she informs me. She seems disappointed that she can't be of more help to me.

"It's fine, I guess. At least I know what it means now." I want to pat her arm or something. But she is simply too small for that. I opt for a smile instead.

"I love your wings by the way."

"Thanks, love," she smiles back at me, reaching for my face and pinching my cheek. I don't even feel it. "I know why you're my favourite daughter."

"I'm your only daughter," I remind her with a frown.

Mum waves her hand at me in a dismissive way. "Technicalities. Didn't you say you had things to attend to?"
Right. I've come here for a reason.

"You're right. I'll be going then."

"Good luck with your mission!"

"Thanks!" I wave at her one last time, before turning around and following the corridor to the dream door of Draco Malfoy.

"Look at that! A new face!" Myron Wagtail greets me excitedly.

"Hey Myron!" I greet back.

"How do you know my name?" He asks suspiciously.

"Everyone knows your name," I reply, while trying to make my voice sound like Goyle's. It's not that hard. All I need to do is make it sound deeper and add a bit of grunting.

"Oh right! Of course! I'm super-mega-famous!" He exclaims and proceeds to bang his head wildly. Instead of waiting for the singer to finish I grab the guitar and start plucking the strings. It sounds awesome if I may say so myself.

"Wrong, wrong, wrong!" Myron interrupts me, shaking his head forcefully. Huh?

"But it sounded so great!" I protest.

"You're right. But sadly it was the wrong tune." He informs me, wiggling his pointer finger at me.

Then I realise that I have been playing the wrong song after all! I played the intro of that muggle song about a baby that's plugged in or something like that. I heard it on the radio the other night. How thoughtless of me. Fortunately, I can just try again. Here comes the amazing Weird Sisters solo! By now I can practically play this in my sleep. Literally. After the last string has been plucked I set down the guitar and look at Myron.

"Not as brilliant as I would have played it but I guess you may enter," he acknowledges and finally the door opens. What a show-off, I think, while I walk through the door.

Hm. The room that I find myself in seems at the same time familiar and strange. It looks a bit like the Gryffindor common room. But the colour scheme is different. Everything is decorated in green tones instead of red and gold. And the couches and armchairs are arranged differently as well. This must be what the Slytherin common room looks like.

"Ah, Goyle! You've decided to join us! Come here and sit with us." Draco Malfoy invites me over to where he is sitting on a couch with Blaise Zabini. It seems my disguise is convincing enough.

I make my way over to the two boys and take a seat in the armchair that's next to the couch. I'm too nervous to sit opposite him. This way he won't catch me that easily.

"So, we were just talking about the party we're throwing next weekend. If you could invite anyone," he pauses dramatically and looks right into my eyes. "Who would you invite?"

"I'd invite Fleur Dela-"

"I don't remember asking you, Zabini. We all know you've got the hots for that French veela girl. I was asking Goyle." Malfoy interrupts, looking at me expectantly. "Now, Goyle."

"Uh… well, I..." I mutter stupidly. Who would expect such a question?

"Come on, Goyle! Who shall we invite?" Malfoy asks again. He sounds impatient and curious.

"Maybe – maybe –" I really don't know what he wants to hear from me. Well, here goes nothing. "Potter!" I burst out. "We could invite Potter."

Malfoy narrows his eyes at me. Damn. Seems like that was the wrong choice.

"Potter?" He questions in a dangerous tone. I nod, biting my lips, nervously.

"Why would you invite her?"

"Uh – I just thought – I – I mean..."

"You thought what?"

"I don't know," I grunt, hoping the answer will be enough.

Malfoy rolls his eyes. "I want to believe you, you know," he says, poking a finger at my chest. Or at least he tries to because I scoot away before he can reach me. I might look like a guy now but it would still feel terribly wrong to let Malfoy touch my chest.

The boy in questions frowns at me, before continuing to speak. "After all, I don't think I need to explain to you that Haley Potter is off-limits. I can't make an exception for you, Goyle," he concludes, sounding almost sad. What the heck?

"I – It's not like that." I answer. This is so weird. I would have never imagined that there would come a day (or night) where I would have to assure Draco Malfoy that I don't have a crush on myself. But wait. Does that mean he really… he really does like me?

"Of course it isn't like that," he says kindly. "You'd never betray me. You wouldn't dare." That doesn't sound scary at all. Or crazy. I want to ask him about me. But with the way he looks at me – or Goyle – that doesn't seem like the best idea. Maybe I need a change of plans.

"So Zabini," Malfoy turns to the other boy. He seems to have forgotten about me. "Who else shall we invite? Besides Fleur Dela-what-do-I-care."

Zabini considers this for a second. I intensely stare at him, trying to memorise exactly what he looks like. Before the boy has a chance to answer I jump up and point at something behind Malfoy.

"The snitch, the snitch!" I shout excitedly.

"Where?" The blond asks, turning around. Ha. I didn't think this would actually work. Now to Zabini. I make a swift gesture with my hand in his direction like I'm trying to get rid off a fly. And just like that he vanishes. So far so good. Closing my eyes, I quickly envision Zabini's appearance and will myself to look like him.

"It's gone," Malfoy states, turning his head back around. He doesn't seem surprised about the fact that Zabini sits no longer next to him or that Goyle is gone in the slightest. "We need to finish the guest list today, Zabini," he presses, staring at me intensely. Seems my transformation has worked.

"We should invite Neville," I propose casually. This could either be a big mistake or my chance to finally get some answers.

"Who?" The blond asks, seeming confused. That's when I realise I probably used the wrong name.

"I – I meant Longbottom," I sputter.

Malfoy glares at me even more than he did when I suggested inviting myself. Well, damn.

"Longbottom?" Malfoy echoes in a dangerously quite tone. "I wouldn't invite that moron if I had the choice between him and a mountain troll."

"Why do you hate him so much?" I dare ask, before I can stop myself.

"You mean aside from the obvious?" The boy scoffs. I nod.

"Do you remember last year when I asked you how you got that Gryffindor to come to the ball with you?" He asks with a sigh. Then he continues without waiting for a reply. "Well, guess what, I was planning to ask Potter." He dead-pans. I freeze. Is this… is this the truth?

"I had it all planned out," he continues. "And then when I finally got my nerves together that idiot had to go and snatch her away." It looks like the memory – is it a memory? – pains him. "It's just – it's all his fault! Everything. He ruined everything!"

I'm too shocked to say anything in return.

"So, do me a favour and never mention that blasted name ever again," he concludes, fixing me with a sharp glare. There's a storm of emotions raging behind his grey eyes. I get the feeling that there might be more to the story.

The intensity seems too much for mere jealousy. I open my mouth to ask but Malfoy cuts me off before I can get out even one syllable.

"Hey, mind if I drink this?"

"W-what?"

Instead of answering the Slytherin grabs a green mug with gold dots from the table in front of the couch that I notice only now. I don't know what I expected to be inside it. But from the colour of the liquid and the delicious, unmistakable smell it seems like it's hot chocolate. Malfoy reaches under the table and brings up a dusty brown bottle, labelled Firewhisky.

"A hot drink for a hot lad," the blond drawls, pulling off the cork and adding no more than a teaspoon of Firewhiskey to his cocoa. I chuckle at his careful administrations. This is the best thing since chocolate frogs.

"Stop laughing," he growls, putting the bottle down again. "Or I'm going to tell your precious girlfriend about the magazines you keep beneath your pillow." Magazines?

"By the way, I took one last week. You know the one with the witch in the broom closet. Do you actually enjoy these? I found it awfully tacky. What were these people thinking – Zabini, where are you – are you blushing?" Malfoy asks in a mocking tone. I'm on my feet, half-way toward the door that hopefully leads out of this dream. No way am I going to stay here and talk about these magazines with a guy. And with Malfoy on top of that!

"You're not embarrassed, are you?" He calls after me but I'm already at the door, pulling at the handle violently. I'm gone before Malfoy gets the chance to utter even one more word.

Once I'm in the corridor I turn right and keep walking straight ahead until I reach the door that looks like a bakery. I open it without thinking twice. Seeing my brother Simon is surely going to brighten my mood. The room I enter looks suspiciously like our kitchen at home. The walls are painted in warm reds and oranges with mum's and some of my own paintings covering them.

"Here, would you take those to mum and Baz? For the icing?" Simon tells me, while handing me a baking tray full of biscuits shaped like snitches. Reflexively, I take the tray and look around, searching for the two in question. At the other end of the room I spot a dark-haired boy sitting at our kitchen table and decorating cookies.

Wait a second… isn't that Baz? The boy from the Hampshire Quidditch team who always torments my brother? What in Merlin's name is that evil gnome doing here? The tray comes to rest on the table with a loud clank. Baz flinches and looks up at me with wide confused eyes. He deserves it.

"Where are your manners? You're scaring away our guest," mum's voice admonishes. But she's nowhere to be – there. The dragon wings. She is still as small as my thumb and cheerfully painting colourful patterns onto the cookies with a toothpick airbrush. Did I imagine it or did she just wink at me? Has everyone gone insane? I march over to where Simon is cutting out the next batch of biscuits.

"What is that evil dwarf doing here?" I ask suspiciously.

"Oh, Baz? He came by and I invited him to help me make biscuits. At first I thought he was going to punch me but then he actually came in and started helping me. Weird huh? He does everything I say." Simon tells me happily. I swallow down the urge to inform him that this is just a dream.

He leans in close to me and whispers, "You know I think it's because of the biscuits. Sweets make people happy."

"You can't seriously believe that."

"Why not? Maybe we'll even become friends," he says with a bright smile.

"Come on, Simon, bullies don't suddenly turn into nice people just because you give them sweets," I argue with a frown.

He looks back over his shoulder. "They might. And besides, trying doesn't hurt." He shrugs and turns back to the cookies at hand. The snitches all seem to be smiling now.

I turn my head and let my eyes linger on the boy with the long black hair that I've never seen with a facial expression that could be described as remotely friendly. The boy who always seemed to hate my brother on mere principle. But here he is. Decorating cookies at my kitchen table and a warm smile on his face. I know it's not real. It's just an expression of my brother's subconscious. But maybe… it could be worth a try. And just like Simon said, trying doesn't hurt. At least I hope it doesn't.

…

A/N: Hello everyone! This was another crazy chapter but I hope you enjoyed it :) In case you're curious what Haley was playing on the guitar before playing the right tune: it was "Plug in baby" by MUSE. The intro to that song is awesome! Oh right, the idea for the prank with Haley's voice was actually a suggestion from one of my reviewers. So I'd like to thank them again for that :)
As always I would be more than happy to hear your thoughts!

On a different note, did any of you read the "School for Good and Evil" series? I think this might be the best series of books I read this year. I could talk about it all day :D

All the best, Feather :)