Harry coughed for the third time that night as his head was encircled by another cloud of dust coming from Ron's wiping of a nearby trophy.

"Sorry about that."

"It's alright, I got used to more than this at the Dursleys. I just haven't been exposed to [cough] quite this much in a while."

Ron paused. Harry didn't usually open up about his experiences with his foster parents like this. He stood pensively for a moment, but decided not to push anything. Harry would tell him when he was ready, and that was that. They had enough to talk about nowadays as it was. After their afternoon bedroom escapades, they had been chewed out by Professor McGonogall, and subsequently, Hermione, for missing two classes. McGonogall had assigned them a customary detention as punishment, and since she didn't have any assignments planned, they were stuck with one of Filch's signature punishments (that were still legal). The boys had to clean the trophy room without the assistance of magic.

For Harry, this wasn't much of a problem: his many years at the Dursley's had taught him extensive methods of muggle cleaning. Despite two previous detentions of the same sort, however, Ron was still completely hopeless. They had decided to split the work up so that Ron would dust and Harry would follow with the toothbrush and cleaning agent. They had been working along steadily, despite the fact that the trophies seemed to be enchanted to attract more dirt than any other part of the school.

Both boys had to shift uncomfortably in their work, as they had gained a considerable amount of weight during the last two weeks. To this point, no one had been able to determine why, but to be honest, few people had said anything about it. Even Draco Malfoy hadn't commented on their recent bulging. Of course, he seemed to have changed significantly himself.

The Slytherin who was usually so calm and collected, even if he was poisonously vicious, was completely out of control. He was mouthing off to everyone one minute, but quiet and almost teary-eyed the next. Harry swore he had noticed him crying one day after Care of Magical Creatures, when Hagrid had finally built up the nerve to tell him off. Both boys had noticed Malfoy a little pale, sweaty and off-color about a week before, and had been so busy enjoying the occasion, coming up with strange reasons why he might be stressed, that they hadn't considered what might be the real reason.

Ron moved on to another trophy, and Harry was once again encircled.

"Could You be a little bit more careful, there?"

"Sorry again, mate. I'm just no good with this."

"Oh, just give it to me." Harry reached for the cloth and looked around to make sure Filch was still out chasing phantom sounds. Seeing and hearing no one, he pulled out his wand and charmed the dust-cloth. "There. Try again."

Ron wiped across the trophy once more, and the dust attached to the cloth, and sunk in, not a single speck flying out into the air. "Oh, I should have remembered that. Mum's got one just like it. I've seen her use it many times."

While Ron was talking, Harry enchanted the old toothbrush as well, and while scrubbing on it's own would be a dead give away, he settled for one swipe cleaning all the way through. With their new and improved tools, they finished the room before Filch returned, and Harry disenchanted the items just in time to hear the grumbling old man return with an unwilling traveling partner. Luck was in their favor, because they got to see none other than Draco Malfoy being dragged by the ear towards Filch's office. Overjoyed with his newest catch, he gave the trophies a quick once over and didn't even think of foul play. They boys gleefully headed back to Gryffindor tower, eager to share their privileged information with Hermione.

When they got back, only a few people were left in the common room, and Neville told them that Hermione had gone to the library a few hours before. This didn't surprise them, so they decided to wait a little while: Madam Pince closed the place up about now. After a few minutes of sitting, Neville came over, and they decided that he would like to know, too.

"Guess who we saw Filch dragging around by the ear in the trophy room?" Ron smiled widely and smugly.

"Draco Malfoy?" Harry and Ron's jaws dropped as Neville answered coolly, with no hint of a guess in his voice.

"But-- how did you know?" came Harry's stuttered reply.

"Whom else's misery would make both of you so happy?"

Neither boy could refute that. Neville looked around the common room, saw that the last stragglers had headed off to bed, and decided that now was the time. As Harry and Ron gave up on the prospect of finding Hermione, and began to walk toward the stairs, Neville said, in a casual voice, "Guess who I saw kissing in the shower?"

Harry and Ron froze instantly on the spot, unsure of what to do. Harry turned, looked at Ron, and then turned around fully. Now it was Neville's turn to have a wide and smug smile on his face. Barely able to keep from laughing at their two faces, he stood up, walked between them, and headed up the stairs to the dormitory.

"How could—" Harry cut himself off, unsure even of what he had been about to say.

"But they were all asleep…" Ron was equally shocked, and it was a few minutes of wide eyed staring before either began to stutter again.

"He must have—"

"Are you sure?"

Sensing that this conversation was quickly going nowhere, Harry and Ron hurried up to the dormitory, but as Seamus and Dean were already there, they could say nothing.

Hermione stepped out of the shadows of the common room, muttering to herself.

"I can't believe it."

Neville had told her the story, but she honestly refused to believe that Harry and Ron would ever—Oh, never mind with that now. In fact, looking back, she was sure that the signs were all there. But, she told herself, hindsight is always 20/20, and she pulled out the books and pulled up a chair. Working with Neville, she had been able to trace the source of the boy's strange behavior back to the night where the Andelion had gone up into the dormitory. Even when Professor Lupin had given her a note to find a book on these strange creatures in the restricted section, however, all she had found was a single book with sketchy notes about the creatures appearance, and one poem repeated over and over again. Eventually she had been able to determine that the poem was really enchanted text. So, of course, she searched for ways to return the text back to its normal state. After hours of searching, she found a potion that would do it, and luckily, the ingredients she needed primarily were available in the student stores and in her own more than ample storage. Potions being one of her better areas, despite Snape's teaching methods, she kept a store of ingredients that most students didn't have, and a few that she had had to go through a friendly black market from a connection with certain twins in order to get.

She had finished brewing the potion earlier that night, in a haunt she had frequented first and second years, and Myrtle was very glad to see her again. She held up a small vial of the milky white substance, and the book she had been poring over. Pouring it over the pages in small amounts, she saw the words rearrange themselves, and she read quickly, taking notes on a nearby piece of parchment long into the night.

****The Next Morning…****

Harry and Ron, having another one of their eventful mornings, walked quietly into the common room on the way to the kitchens, but were stopped by the sight of a slouched lump that turned out to be Hermione sitting on one of the chairs, book in her hands, and parchment by her side. Ron slid the book out of her grasp, careful not to wake her, and turned it to the title.

"She must have been doing extra credit for Lupin," he said presumptuously, "look at the title: 'Andelion Habits.' Will she ever give up? She already has a hundred and ten—" Ron was interrupted by Harry, who had begun to read the parchment on the nearby table. "Oh God."

"What? What is it?" Ron pulled the paper away from Harry, and he read a few lines before a similar reaction displayed on his face. "Oh." "Well, that explains a lot," Ron was able to get out, before he had to run to catch Harry, who seemed to have fainted, and was hurtling towards the stone floor. Luckily for him Hermione woke up at that point, and they both carried him over to a chair.

"I take it you know, then."

Ron could only nod. Hermione matter-of-factly said, "Well, this won't do." She pulled out her wand and Touched Harry's nose lightly. "Ennervate." Harry's eyes opened gently, and the position he found himself in told him that he had not been dreaming. He was pregnant, and so was Ron. Hermione wasted no time getting around to business. "The first thing we have to decide is, who should know? We're the only people that know right now, but it won't be long before people start to figure it out for themselves or atleast know something's up."

Harry tried to get up, but his head was spinning, he didn't know what was happening, and he had to sit back down. Ron spoke. "I think it's obvious that as few people as possible should know. I certainly don't want my parents to find out any sooner than they have to, and Malfoy would be more than happy to spread Harry's story to Witch Weekly."

Harry didn't even have a chance to speak for himself. "Agreed. The next thing to think about is whether or not—" Hermione was cut off.

"We should tell Neville?" The round faced boy stepped into the common room, causing everyone to jump. "I don't really think that's a point worthy of discussion. You guys need to learn to walk more quietly in the dorm room. And… I probably need to learn to ignore my curiosity better."

Hermione was unshaken by the entrance. "Alright. So, we tell no one unless we absolutely have to. The next question is, how do we keep people from figuring things out? It won't be long before people start to guess."

Ron had the answer for that one, as well. "There's a charm that will keep us from showing most of the time until really late. Let's just say that my Dad didn't know mum was having the twins until she decided to tell him. He's told me the story many times, and I know how the spell works. We need a place where we can reliably be alone, though. The spell only works for so much time during the day, and after that you have to return to the place it was casted, where you'll be essentially immobile for a few hours while it recharges."

Harry finally piped in on the conversation. "The room of requirement will work well for a casting place, then."

****Brief A/N: this story, for the purposes of lightheartedness, simply presumes that Voldemort is not a part of their lives, either he never existed, or was defeated, take your pick. Thusly, the DA will not meet in the room, as it may never have existed, if you, the reader, so desire. On with the story.****

Hermione relaxed. "Well, that settles just about everything. As long as you two can keep your mood swings under control, no one should be the wiser, and you'll have the kids during the summer, and that will be easy to hide."

Ron sighed, but was not nearly as relaxed as Hermione. "My parents aren't going to be happy at all."

Harry's condition beat them all. "What will the Dursley's do?"

Neville had the solution. "There's at least one more person we'll have to tell. With all of the secrets we're going to be keeping, we'll doubtlessly be breaking more than a few rules, and only one person has the authority to overturn decisions in that area."

Harry nodded, silently agreeing, but wishing he had other options. He trusted Professor Dumbledore with his life, but he never wanted to burden the man with his problems. Both had enough on their minds. That Saturday, when they talked to him, he certainly didn't seem overburdened when he heard the news. He glowed with joy and excitement, and the minor hindering practicalities of the situation washed away from everyone in the room.

"Congratulations are definitely in order, then. I daresay that this deserves a toast."

With a wave of what Harry noticed was a wandless hand, glasses of champagne appeared in his, Neville's, and Hermione's hands, while his and Ron's were filled with a slice of buttered wheat toast. He gave his signature wink, and said with a smile, "No drinks during pregnancy. Doctor's orders."

Dumbledore agreed to help them out with a few rule-bendings, though he did note that it wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary for any of them, even Neville. The four of them left the office quite happy, but as they walked around the corner in the hallway, Neville was practically run over by a very disheveled Malfoy, who muttered something like, " I've 'gotta find him," before running again in the opposite direction. The four Gryffindors exchanged curious looks, but the disgraced state of their mutual nemesis only increased their happiness.

When they returned to the common room, they lay back in the chairs, and Hermione, to no one's surprise, pulled out a book. She was reading 'Andelion Habits' once more, and began to tell Harry and Ron some of the things she had recently discovered about the curious creature. Apparently, Harry and Ron' kids were going to be kind of like twins. Since they were conceived close together, and they had expressed their love in a physical fashion so close to the lustual act of the Andelion, that it was the equivalent of the two of them conceiving a child together. If that had been possible, that is. Apparently, Hermione, read, if the two had not found love soon after, they would have been consumed with lust, and eventually become Andelions themselves. The seed inside, instead of creating new life, consumed what was already there and transformed it into something similar. Ron laughed as he pictured Harry as an Andelion with bright green eyes, but it wasn't Harry's funny bone that reacted to the thought of Ron with a long golden tail. Neville listened, only somewhat interested, but looked down at his robes to find a slimy, golden sparkle in several spots.

"Eww! Malfoy must have got me with this stuff. I've got to go up and wash it off."

Ron stopped laughing long enough to look up at Neville and see what he was complaining about, and froze. That substance looked remarkably familiar.

"Oh God. That's what he meant. He must have--"

Harry, Hermione, and Neville were confused by Ron's mumblings. Neville, however, interrupted Ron, impatiently torn between getting clean and finding out what Ron had just figured out. "What? Could you please enlighten us as to exactly what I meant?"

"No, not you, Malfoy. He said 'I've gotta find him' when he ran into you in the hall. And he left Andelion residue on your clothes." Harry looked up, and recognized instantly the substance he had tried so hard to remove just a few short weeks ago.

"Oh." Neville was relieved. He had secrets of his own to be keeping, and if they had figured him out, well… He would just tell them when he was ready.

Hermione burst out a moment later. "Do you realize what this means? If he doesn't find someone to love soon, he'll become and Andelion himself!"

Harry and Ron shrugged. They didn't much care what happened to the prat, as long as it didn't affect them in an adverse sort of way. Hermione gave them a little bit of perspective, however, with her next statement.

"Imagine someone with Malfoy's evil will, with the power to seduce anyone. I mean anyone." She glared at Harry and Ron. "You didn't seem to stand up to well to the powers of the andelion, and you have no idea who that was before it's transformation."

Harry and Ron considered this for a minute, and Harry responded. "Well, it seems we have our mission. Find the true love of Draco Malfoy."

Ron burst out laughing, and before long, Harry and Hermione couldn't help but join in too.

Neville had had enough. "And on that note…" He walked up to the dorm room, ready to set his clothes out and step into the shower for a quick moment, to wash off of his face and hands the slippery substance.

The rest of the day was spent narrowing down their choices for Draco's bride to be. It was not an easy process, as Ron was continually stopping progress with laughter, or ridiculous suggestions, and Harry was very prone to joining in. Despite their rambunctious behavior, Hermione was able to put together a reasonably sized list, and was satisfied with her accomplishments. Harry and Ron were still giggling over the image of Draco and Professor Trelawney that had innocently drifted into their heads as they walked together up to the dormitory. Neville sat pensively for a few minutes, alone in the common room, and began to write his own list of potential mates for Draco. His list was significantly different, and there were no cross-overs between the two. Feeling that he had a significant selection, he paused before adding one last name with a certain degree of finality. Pleased, he packed away his ink bottle and quill, and walked alone back to the dormitory.

A/N: This is incredibly longer than the rest of the chapters, I know, but I had a bunch of stuff I wanted to get in, so I hope you enjoyed it. Remember, one chapter costs one review, so the next one won't be posted until another review is. Also, I realize that this chapter was a little lacking in the kick-ass humor I promised, and that's because I'm just no good at it. There was a little in this episode, but really good kick-ass humor is so hard to write while actually achieving a plot. Anyways, review whilst I work on the next chapter, and tell me if you think you know what's going to happen, know what Neville's secret is, or have any suggestions for Draco's partner, or if he should be left to his own devices.