Disclaimer: The owner of Harry Potter is somewhere in England. I, however, am trapped in daiquiri-a-gogo land with the very senile. *Logic Question* If the owner of HP is in England, and I have been schlepped away to daiquiri-a-gogo land, can I own HP?
*WARNING*for the very thick only*(the answer is NO)
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In the next week, the disturbances had become more disruptive and dangerous. First, an entire row of bottles shattered at once during potions, then, swords flew off the wall at passersby in the corridors. The worst, according to Ron, was when Crookshanks, Hermione's cat, mysteriously levitated into the air for a moment, came crashing to the ground, then shot into the corner, ripping at Ron's trousers on the way. Dumbledore had announced that they where sure it wasn't Peeve's doing and assured everyone that they would find away to stop it.
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Harry sat with his back to the wall. Despite his grandest efforts, he was beginning to think there was nothing he could do about Andie and Malfoy. He had to admit he had never seen Malfoy be kinder to any other living thing… but still. Harry couldn't let her fall into the wrong hands, and she was too blind to see for herself that Malfoy wasn't what he was making himself out to be. For the most part, Harry new it was ridiculous to try and control her actions like this, but there was something driving him to, and he wasn't quite sure what it was. Finally the door next to him opened and he heard her voice.
"Goodbye."
She left, followed by Draco. He waited for the footsteps to fade away before emerging from his space between the door and the wall and made his way back to the common room. When he swung the portrait open, there she was.
"Did you enjoy our conversation?" she looked straight at him, as if she could read him like a diary. He looked down and tried to seem as if he was genuinely interested in his shoe laces.
"Yes?" she was waiting for him to say something, she already knew what it was, but he said it anyway.
"I thought you two were losing interest"
"I know, your high spirits gave you away."
"I've never been too good at hiding my emotions."
"Remind me to play you in poker sometime." He laughed and looked down again.
"It's just… I don't know, I just don't think you really know who he is…"
"Who is anyone?" she asked, "people are just an illusion, the face they show to you, that's who they are. We just have to accept that."
