Hello... my name is Laura but... you can call me... erm, what was it again? Oh, yeah. Forfirith. I've been going by that name for how long now I don't know...
Well, thanks to our reviewers... not that I'm sure if we've had any. Ah, well...
So, what's just happened? They had a row, right? And Susan told me not to make 'em publish... ^.^ Hehehe... Then told me not to let them make up...
Hey ho, here we go, dreamin' of Tom and me stuck under the mistletoe... *eyes glaze over*
And what did she promise you this time? Well... all I have is cheese.
***
Draco did not follow Harry down the stairs, for fear of being killed by the furious teen. Jeez, all he had done was rolled on top of him... then the jammy bastard just had to bite his foot... And why the hell was he here? Godamnit, why hadn't he gone somewhere else, his mother hadn't exactly forced him to come to Potters.
"Ugh... I hate you Potter," Draco muttered to himself, just as his stomach gave a rather large grumble.
"Sh!t."
Ok, so now Draco was in this situation:
One. He had just had his foot practically bitten off by Wonder Boy after being sent there by his rather loopy mother.
Two. He was now stuck upstairs because he didn't want to admit defeat by going down to get food from the said Wonder Boy.
Three. He was bloody hungry.
And the first name terms thing hadn't lasted very long – what, a few hours? Now they were back to Potter and Malfoy again.
Well, Draco didn't really have a problem with that.
Downstairs, Harry was beyond pissed off. And it wasn't because Draco's foot had tasted of cheese. Or that Draco had made the comment about having a father. It was the fact that soon Vernon and the rest of his 'family' would be coming back. And that meant trouble.
"Ugh, why me? Why couldn't the asshole go somewhere else?" Harry groaned as he poured himself some cereal. "All I wanted was a nice, calm, relaxing weekend... then BAM! Guess who shows up at my front door? The spawn of bloody Satan! And look, he's got me bloody talking to myself! I'm going crazy!"
"You're right, my dear," his cereal replied.
"Thank you," Harry nodded gratefully, not noticing that he was talking to a bowl of Cheerios™. "And he's so, 'I'm better than you, I'm a Malfoy so bow down to me,' it just... ugh!"
"Don't stress yourself out," the Cheerios™. "He's not worth it!"
"Humph. And I was having such a nice dream as well... I was sitting on the top of a huge tower, and there was a blue sky, and I was humming. Quite a nice tune, actually." Harry tried to recall the wonderful tune. "It kinda went, Da da doo, doo da dee, doo da da da dee do da dee da da da da da da da da da, da da da da doo da dee."
"What, like, I love you, you love me, we are a happy family with a great big hug and a kiss from me to you, won't you say you love me too? The Barney song?" The Cheerios™ asked.
"Oh, yeah... the purple dinosaur dude?"
Meanwhile, Draco's hunger had gotten the better of him and he had crept downstairs, only to find Harry talking to... a bowl of cereal.
"Humph. And I was having such a nice dream as well... I was sitting on the top of a huge tower, and there was a blue sky, and I was humming. Quite a nice tune, actually."
A blue sky...? A tower...? Draco's thoughts were brought to a halt when Harry began humming to the bowl of cereal.
"It kinda went, Da da doo, doo da dee, doo da da da dee do da dee da da da da da da da da da, da da da da doo da dee."
There was a short silence, when Harry stared down at the cereal bowl, then said,
"Oh, yeah... the purple dinosaur dude?"
Now extremely terrified, Draco rushed back upstairs, the blue sky and tower forgotten. It was now official: Potter was a raving loony.
Nearly an hour later, Draco came up with another theory:
Potter was a vampire who feasted on human feet, AND an utter loony.
It took another hour to add the final part.
Potter was a dream-sharing (if he really had actually dreamt about the now remembered blue sky and tower) vampire who feasted on feet, and an utter loony.
Draco had half a mind to clamber onto Brave Ol' Bill The Hero Broomstick who had saved 5 children, a cat, and an automated piano, and then gone on to become Mayor of a nearby village, then returned back to Draco again, and get the heck out of there.
But Draco Malfoy was a Malfoy, and a Slytherin, and a very honourable one at that. Running away would mean Potter had won, and Draco hated being beaten by Potter. It happened way too often. Even his hair gel kept telling him that.
And if Draco had conversations with hair gel and Harry had conversations with cereal... this was a very strange situation.
And Draco didn't dare go down and ask Harry Potter Boy-Who-Lived Wombat-Juggler-Extraordinaire-Foot-Eating-Vampire-Dream-Sharing-Boy-Who-Talks-To-Bowls-Of-Cereal for something to eat.
So no wonder Harry found him passed out on the floor several hours later.