Chapter 44- The Not-So-Bad Detention
"Stupid bloody Snape. He gave you detention today just to be an ass."
Harry offered a small, sarcastic smile of agreement to Ron's comment. He undid the first two buttons of his shirt before turning to face him. "He does everything just to be an ass. That's why he makes us skin bats and pull the eyelids off mice for detention. Listen, you can stand in as captain for today's practice, right? I wish I could be there. I've missed more practices than any other team member, and I'm the bloody head of the team."
"Well, you need the least practice, Harry," Ron smiled. "Sure I can."
"Great. I'll see you later." Harry left Ron's room after stealing a quick kiss.
He was nervous on his way to the dungeons- mostly because Snape had not given him a detention for some time now, and he was probably ecstatically planning some horrible torture, like redoing all of his own Potions essays since first year, or cleaning Neville's cauldron. Still, he strode purposefully to Snape's office, and he knocked purposefully on the door when he got there.
"Come in!" the brisk, sneering call came. Somehow, Harry was slightly comforted by the sound. It was the same as always.
He was made a bit nervous by the sly smirk Snape almost managed to hide before he replaced the sneer on his face. "Better roll up your sleeves, Potter. You're cleaning cauldrons today."
Harry looked to the indicated pile. It was rather large. *Wonderful.*
"Except Longbottom's. It melted two hours ago."
Harry restrained his sigh of relief as he went to work on the cauldrons. Really, it wasn't that much worse than cleaning pots at the Dursley's- thank Merlin he'd never have to do *that* again- as long as you were careful not to touch the sides with your bare skin.
*Anyway, he could have had me doing something much worse, like disemboweling monkerjoles, or straining armadillo bile. This is something I'm used to, something I can do without vomiting- usually. As long as Neville has nothing to do with it, I can handle it.*
What Harry was not prepared to handle was the unexpected long period of the evening where Snape left. However, he by no means left Harry alone.
"Ah, Malfoy, right on time. Potter, you'll be supervised by Malfoy until I return. I am afraid I have urgent business with the headmaster. I trust you will not miss me unbearably. Don't wait up."
Harry pursed his lips tightly until Snape left, at which point curses rained upon the absent Potions master. Why, oh why, did he have to leave Malfoy in charge of him?
"Language, Potter. Though I do think 'greasy bat' is a rather accurate description, teachers do not often take kindly to being called insufferable bastards."
Why *Malfoy*? What had he done to deserve this? Well…though reluctant to admit it, he did not really mind Malfoy anymore- well, not as much. But he knew Malfoy would not act any differently toward him. Or would he?
Well, he *was* different, Harry supposed, to be dating Hermione. But still. Even this new side of Malfoy wasn't likely to treat his worst school enemy any better than usual.
Of course, Hermione had told him that Draco would listen if he tried to talk. She might just be defending her boyfriend, but she might also be trying to get Harry to get along with him. She had certainly done her best to get him and Ron to accept Draco- wait, why was he now referring to him as *Draco*? Damn it. Hermione's influence, without a doubt.
Harry looked up from scrubbing for a moment to find Malfoy watching him thoughtfully, perched casually on one of the desks. He was careful not to let it show that he was affected by this in any way. Or so he thought…or he tried to be…*Fine, so now I can't stop looking at Malfoy because he was looking at me. What the hell?…Well, yes, he is attractive, but I don't care, I'm in love with Ron…shit. I just called Malfoy attractive.*
"Why do you hate me, Potter?" Malfoy asked, in a startlingly serious move.
"Because you're a prick." At his next glance, Malfoy was staring at a spot on the wall behind him. Well, maybe it was more than a glance…he narrowed his eyes as he watched Malfoy, and he saw something he never expected to see in the other boy's face. He was being serious.
Harry sighed. If Malfoy was actually making an effort, then he should at least tell the truth. Here it went. "I don't."
"Sure, that explains your behavior to me in the last…let's see, six and a half years?"
Harry realized that he had just been scrubbing the same spot for the past five minutes, and scowling, moved on to another cauldron. "I'm being serious, here."
"I don't see why I should believe you."
"Come on, do you really think I'm stupid?" Harry exclaimed, standing and forgetting completely about the cauldrons.
Malfoy's mouth curled up in one corner. "Well, not as stupid as Weasley…"
Harry stiffened. "Careful, Malfoy."
Malfoy cleared his throat. "Sorry. You were saying?"
Harry's eyebrows did something quite odd- he could not have described what it looked like, because he was sure he had never seen the expression before. Had Malfoy just apologized for insulting a Gryffindor?
So it seemed. Slightly disconcerted, Harry said, "Well, yes. All right. Listen, I know Hermione. She's not the type to go for Death Eaters, and you wouldn't have been able to trick her into liking you. No, you wouldn't Malfoy." He had just opened his mouth as if to protest. "If you think you could, you underestimate her."
"No, I don't underestimate Hermione. And I wouldn't have wanted to trick her."
"Ah. Well, that's good. Anyway, I was saying that if she has taken to you so fervently, you must not be as bad as we always thought."
Malfoy seemed to be considering this. "I suppose I'm not quite that bad," he replied. "At least there's *one* Gryffindor besides Hermione who possesses some logic. But tell me, if you don't hate me, why have you been completely less than friendly to me since you found out about us?"
"What the hell? What kind of question is that? Haven't you noticed the lack of open hostility? I figured as long as you didn't start anything, then we wouldn't have any problems."
"Unless, that is, Weasley starts something."
Harry shook his head. "Yeah, I'm not sure what to do about Ron."
"It seems you say that a lot. I mean, that you're not sure of things."
"Malfoy, what is your problem? I'm trying to be…not mean here, and all you can do is insult me. Instead of cooperating for *once*, you have to make things difficult."
"How do you figure *I'm* the one making things difficult? I'd say it's *your* boyfriend."
"Well, if you hadn't started dating Hermione, none of this stuff would be necessary. Our relationship would be clearly defined as enemies. Now- now I don't know what we are." Harry shook his head again, slower this time. "We can't be enemies. I respect Hermione too much to hate you. Or to cause trouble. You saw what happened the last time Ron tried to kill you. He hit Hermione."
"Oh, that, yes. What a prat. She was fine, by the way, she only wanted to make Weasley sorry for being such an idiot."
"If you don't stop insulting my boyfriend, I might have to eat my words, Malfoy."
"Well, it's hard not to. He's just such an easy target…I'm kidding! I don't want to be enemies any more than you do. He just doesn't seem to be letting go of past…injuries."
"I know. Believe me, I've been trying. He needs more time, as ridiculous as that may sound."
Malfoy nodded. "I get it, though. It's not like I really care to be friends with him, either. It's not an insult, this time. I don't particularly want to be friends with you at this point."
"So are we agreed that we're not enemies?" Harry asked, ignoring the last comment.
After a moment, Malfoy agreed. "But we're not friends."
"No, that will take a bit longer," Harry said wryly. "Maybe in a few years we'll get there."
It was only then that Harry realized how many cauldrons he still had left to do. Thinking along the same lines, Malfoy pointed his wand at the pile, and half of them were clean instantly. For a while neither said anything, staring at the cauldrons.
"You should get back to work. If you aren't scrubbing when Snape gets back, he'll think something's up."
Harry laughed softly. "Yeah. Listen, Malf- Dra- argh! Now I don't even know what to call you. Until we really can be friends- truce?"
He held out his hand tentatively. Malfoy looked from his hand to his face to the door to his hand, and then his own hand. "What about Weasley?"
"I'm working on it," Harry informed him. "I'll make him come around…kind of."
A few more minutes passed. Malfoy stepped forward and took the hand Harry offered, shaking it firmly before releasing it. "Our first civil conversation," he said sarcastically, even though it was true. "This calls for a celebration. This is Rita Skeeter material."
"What's the title this time, The Boy Who Longs For Inter-House Peace?" Harry laughed as he returned to the few cauldrons left in the dirty pile.
"More like The Boy Whose Hands Are Pruny From Washing Cauldrons." Malfoy raised one eyebrow, and his smirk returned. "Or The Boy Who Failed to Control His Friends- or should that be Hormones, I can't decide."
"Malfoy! That's going a little far, seeing as we aren't really friends yet." However, Harry faced away from Malfoy as he scrubbed in order to hide his amused look. "Besides, if anyone can't control their hormones…" He glanced over his shoulder meaningfully.
"No thanks, Potter. I have a girlfriend, remember?"
"Not suggesting anything of the sort, Malfoy. Oh my god. I just got a mental picture. Bad image! Oh, yuck! Mental rape, help help!"
"Get a grip, Potter. And not on me, if that's what you're thinking."
"I'm ending our truce at the next suggestion you make of that nature."
"Okay, I'll stop…probably."
Harry looked over his shoulder again, just in time to see Malfoy's wicked grin turn into an attempted innocent expression. Attempted, because he looked nothing near innocent. Harry didn't even think Malfoy *could* look innocent- and he doubted Malfoy thought so.
"Yeah, you're right. I should just stick to what I'm good at," Malfoy shrugged. He took to twirling his wand between his fingers.
Snape returned about an hour later, when Harry was just about finished- only one cauldron to go. Malfoy left then, at Snape's request, and Harry scrubbed as fast as he could. After having a surprisingly enjoyable detention, he did not want it to be ruined by an extended period of time in the presence of the very man he had been insulting a few hours ago.
"Go on then, Potter," Snape leered at him when finally he had finished. Gratefully, Harry hurried from the dungeons. He needed a shower.
"Hey, Potter!" a voice beckoned him into the nearest classroom. It was a very familiar voice- and now, not a completely unpleasant one to hear.
"What, Malfoy?" Harry inquired as he entered, stopping just inside the door.
"Well, this is all well and good, but…do you mind not telling Weasley? I doubt he'd be happy about it, and I'd rather not acquire a stalker for the last months of my Hogwarts career. Until he's…gotten over it, just keep this between us, all right?"
"No problem, Malfoy. Anyway, he might get jealous, me talking to other boys. Even if it's you." Harry attempted an evil grin- attempted, because he knew he didn't look evil. Malfoy gave him a rather patronizing look. "You're right," Harry sighed. "I should just stick to what I'm good at."
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As Draco returned to his dormitory, he continuously paused in his steps, and shook his head quickly, as though banishing unwanted thoughts. This he did not mind overly much; it was the reason for it that was a bit disconcerting.
He was now officially not enemies with Harry Potter. He never thought he would see the day. How long would it be before they were actually…friends? He shuddered at the thought.
Just his luck, he shuddered right as he entered the dorm, and Hermione happened to be studying for N.E.W.T.s- no surprise there- on the couch. She, of course, noticed. "What's wrong, Draco?"
"A truce with Harry Potter, that's what," he sighed, resigning himself to the inevitable. This *inevitable* was that Hermione would always know what was going on.
Instead of looking shocked, she smiled widely down at her notes. "Way to go, Harry," she murmured.
"What was that?" He was now very close to her, and was gratified when she jumped. He prided himself on his ability to sneak up behind people.
"The last time I talked to Harry, I told him to try to at least be not-hostile to you, and noticeably, so you two could start to be friends. I'm quite tired of this bickering grudge you three hold against each other. Of course, I know Ron is not the best place to start. You have insulted him *more* than Harry, in case you haven't noticed-"
"You think there wasn't a reason for that?" Draco interrupted. At her look, he said, "Sorry, I was just trying to get you to shut up. You were right…huh, I should have suspected…and here I was thinking Potter was extending the hand of friendship all on his own…"
"I think he would have, eventually," Hermione said, opening another book and scanning the index. "He just needed a little push, in order for it to happen in reasonable time."
"And you, of course, are the only one who could have pushed him hard enough," Draco muttered. "…Or me."
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Ron was slightly worried about what had happened that night. "Come on, Harry, please, tell me what you did. Nobody comes out of a detention with Snape smiling like that…except Malfoy, but he's never had a detention with Snape that I know of. Harry, please, you have no idea how much you're freaking me out."
Harry just shook his head. "Sorry, Ron. It's confidential."
"You were cheating, weren't you? I knew this would happen eventually," Ron moaned miserably.
"Ron, you idiot, I love you. Why would I cheat? I would only do it if you did, to make you jealous."
"I'd never cheat on you. Cheat? That's not even in my vocabulary." Ron knew he sounded nervous, but he could not help it. Like he said. *Nobody* comes out of detention with Snape smiling like that…or smiling, period. Something had to have happened.
"Fine then," Ron said. He proceeded to seal off his room, finishing with a Silencing Charm. "I'll have to suck it out of you."
Harry pretended to protest, but his eager smile gave him away. Ron reached into the box of Every Flavor Condoms once again. "Maybe this time the flavor will be okay."
End Chapter 44
Umm, leftover Jack Sparrow-shaped confetti- (from another fic) to reviewers. 20 points to Hufflepuff, good job Sarah. That's all I have to say right now.
"Stupid bloody Snape. He gave you detention today just to be an ass."
Harry offered a small, sarcastic smile of agreement to Ron's comment. He undid the first two buttons of his shirt before turning to face him. "He does everything just to be an ass. That's why he makes us skin bats and pull the eyelids off mice for detention. Listen, you can stand in as captain for today's practice, right? I wish I could be there. I've missed more practices than any other team member, and I'm the bloody head of the team."
"Well, you need the least practice, Harry," Ron smiled. "Sure I can."
"Great. I'll see you later." Harry left Ron's room after stealing a quick kiss.
He was nervous on his way to the dungeons- mostly because Snape had not given him a detention for some time now, and he was probably ecstatically planning some horrible torture, like redoing all of his own Potions essays since first year, or cleaning Neville's cauldron. Still, he strode purposefully to Snape's office, and he knocked purposefully on the door when he got there.
"Come in!" the brisk, sneering call came. Somehow, Harry was slightly comforted by the sound. It was the same as always.
He was made a bit nervous by the sly smirk Snape almost managed to hide before he replaced the sneer on his face. "Better roll up your sleeves, Potter. You're cleaning cauldrons today."
Harry looked to the indicated pile. It was rather large. *Wonderful.*
"Except Longbottom's. It melted two hours ago."
Harry restrained his sigh of relief as he went to work on the cauldrons. Really, it wasn't that much worse than cleaning pots at the Dursley's- thank Merlin he'd never have to do *that* again- as long as you were careful not to touch the sides with your bare skin.
*Anyway, he could have had me doing something much worse, like disemboweling monkerjoles, or straining armadillo bile. This is something I'm used to, something I can do without vomiting- usually. As long as Neville has nothing to do with it, I can handle it.*
What Harry was not prepared to handle was the unexpected long period of the evening where Snape left. However, he by no means left Harry alone.
"Ah, Malfoy, right on time. Potter, you'll be supervised by Malfoy until I return. I am afraid I have urgent business with the headmaster. I trust you will not miss me unbearably. Don't wait up."
Harry pursed his lips tightly until Snape left, at which point curses rained upon the absent Potions master. Why, oh why, did he have to leave Malfoy in charge of him?
"Language, Potter. Though I do think 'greasy bat' is a rather accurate description, teachers do not often take kindly to being called insufferable bastards."
Why *Malfoy*? What had he done to deserve this? Well…though reluctant to admit it, he did not really mind Malfoy anymore- well, not as much. But he knew Malfoy would not act any differently toward him. Or would he?
Well, he *was* different, Harry supposed, to be dating Hermione. But still. Even this new side of Malfoy wasn't likely to treat his worst school enemy any better than usual.
Of course, Hermione had told him that Draco would listen if he tried to talk. She might just be defending her boyfriend, but she might also be trying to get Harry to get along with him. She had certainly done her best to get him and Ron to accept Draco- wait, why was he now referring to him as *Draco*? Damn it. Hermione's influence, without a doubt.
Harry looked up from scrubbing for a moment to find Malfoy watching him thoughtfully, perched casually on one of the desks. He was careful not to let it show that he was affected by this in any way. Or so he thought…or he tried to be…*Fine, so now I can't stop looking at Malfoy because he was looking at me. What the hell?…Well, yes, he is attractive, but I don't care, I'm in love with Ron…shit. I just called Malfoy attractive.*
"Why do you hate me, Potter?" Malfoy asked, in a startlingly serious move.
"Because you're a prick." At his next glance, Malfoy was staring at a spot on the wall behind him. Well, maybe it was more than a glance…he narrowed his eyes as he watched Malfoy, and he saw something he never expected to see in the other boy's face. He was being serious.
Harry sighed. If Malfoy was actually making an effort, then he should at least tell the truth. Here it went. "I don't."
"Sure, that explains your behavior to me in the last…let's see, six and a half years?"
Harry realized that he had just been scrubbing the same spot for the past five minutes, and scowling, moved on to another cauldron. "I'm being serious, here."
"I don't see why I should believe you."
"Come on, do you really think I'm stupid?" Harry exclaimed, standing and forgetting completely about the cauldrons.
Malfoy's mouth curled up in one corner. "Well, not as stupid as Weasley…"
Harry stiffened. "Careful, Malfoy."
Malfoy cleared his throat. "Sorry. You were saying?"
Harry's eyebrows did something quite odd- he could not have described what it looked like, because he was sure he had never seen the expression before. Had Malfoy just apologized for insulting a Gryffindor?
So it seemed. Slightly disconcerted, Harry said, "Well, yes. All right. Listen, I know Hermione. She's not the type to go for Death Eaters, and you wouldn't have been able to trick her into liking you. No, you wouldn't Malfoy." He had just opened his mouth as if to protest. "If you think you could, you underestimate her."
"No, I don't underestimate Hermione. And I wouldn't have wanted to trick her."
"Ah. Well, that's good. Anyway, I was saying that if she has taken to you so fervently, you must not be as bad as we always thought."
Malfoy seemed to be considering this. "I suppose I'm not quite that bad," he replied. "At least there's *one* Gryffindor besides Hermione who possesses some logic. But tell me, if you don't hate me, why have you been completely less than friendly to me since you found out about us?"
"What the hell? What kind of question is that? Haven't you noticed the lack of open hostility? I figured as long as you didn't start anything, then we wouldn't have any problems."
"Unless, that is, Weasley starts something."
Harry shook his head. "Yeah, I'm not sure what to do about Ron."
"It seems you say that a lot. I mean, that you're not sure of things."
"Malfoy, what is your problem? I'm trying to be…not mean here, and all you can do is insult me. Instead of cooperating for *once*, you have to make things difficult."
"How do you figure *I'm* the one making things difficult? I'd say it's *your* boyfriend."
"Well, if you hadn't started dating Hermione, none of this stuff would be necessary. Our relationship would be clearly defined as enemies. Now- now I don't know what we are." Harry shook his head again, slower this time. "We can't be enemies. I respect Hermione too much to hate you. Or to cause trouble. You saw what happened the last time Ron tried to kill you. He hit Hermione."
"Oh, that, yes. What a prat. She was fine, by the way, she only wanted to make Weasley sorry for being such an idiot."
"If you don't stop insulting my boyfriend, I might have to eat my words, Malfoy."
"Well, it's hard not to. He's just such an easy target…I'm kidding! I don't want to be enemies any more than you do. He just doesn't seem to be letting go of past…injuries."
"I know. Believe me, I've been trying. He needs more time, as ridiculous as that may sound."
Malfoy nodded. "I get it, though. It's not like I really care to be friends with him, either. It's not an insult, this time. I don't particularly want to be friends with you at this point."
"So are we agreed that we're not enemies?" Harry asked, ignoring the last comment.
After a moment, Malfoy agreed. "But we're not friends."
"No, that will take a bit longer," Harry said wryly. "Maybe in a few years we'll get there."
It was only then that Harry realized how many cauldrons he still had left to do. Thinking along the same lines, Malfoy pointed his wand at the pile, and half of them were clean instantly. For a while neither said anything, staring at the cauldrons.
"You should get back to work. If you aren't scrubbing when Snape gets back, he'll think something's up."
Harry laughed softly. "Yeah. Listen, Malf- Dra- argh! Now I don't even know what to call you. Until we really can be friends- truce?"
He held out his hand tentatively. Malfoy looked from his hand to his face to the door to his hand, and then his own hand. "What about Weasley?"
"I'm working on it," Harry informed him. "I'll make him come around…kind of."
A few more minutes passed. Malfoy stepped forward and took the hand Harry offered, shaking it firmly before releasing it. "Our first civil conversation," he said sarcastically, even though it was true. "This calls for a celebration. This is Rita Skeeter material."
"What's the title this time, The Boy Who Longs For Inter-House Peace?" Harry laughed as he returned to the few cauldrons left in the dirty pile.
"More like The Boy Whose Hands Are Pruny From Washing Cauldrons." Malfoy raised one eyebrow, and his smirk returned. "Or The Boy Who Failed to Control His Friends- or should that be Hormones, I can't decide."
"Malfoy! That's going a little far, seeing as we aren't really friends yet." However, Harry faced away from Malfoy as he scrubbed in order to hide his amused look. "Besides, if anyone can't control their hormones…" He glanced over his shoulder meaningfully.
"No thanks, Potter. I have a girlfriend, remember?"
"Not suggesting anything of the sort, Malfoy. Oh my god. I just got a mental picture. Bad image! Oh, yuck! Mental rape, help help!"
"Get a grip, Potter. And not on me, if that's what you're thinking."
"I'm ending our truce at the next suggestion you make of that nature."
"Okay, I'll stop…probably."
Harry looked over his shoulder again, just in time to see Malfoy's wicked grin turn into an attempted innocent expression. Attempted, because he looked nothing near innocent. Harry didn't even think Malfoy *could* look innocent- and he doubted Malfoy thought so.
"Yeah, you're right. I should just stick to what I'm good at," Malfoy shrugged. He took to twirling his wand between his fingers.
Snape returned about an hour later, when Harry was just about finished- only one cauldron to go. Malfoy left then, at Snape's request, and Harry scrubbed as fast as he could. After having a surprisingly enjoyable detention, he did not want it to be ruined by an extended period of time in the presence of the very man he had been insulting a few hours ago.
"Go on then, Potter," Snape leered at him when finally he had finished. Gratefully, Harry hurried from the dungeons. He needed a shower.
"Hey, Potter!" a voice beckoned him into the nearest classroom. It was a very familiar voice- and now, not a completely unpleasant one to hear.
"What, Malfoy?" Harry inquired as he entered, stopping just inside the door.
"Well, this is all well and good, but…do you mind not telling Weasley? I doubt he'd be happy about it, and I'd rather not acquire a stalker for the last months of my Hogwarts career. Until he's…gotten over it, just keep this between us, all right?"
"No problem, Malfoy. Anyway, he might get jealous, me talking to other boys. Even if it's you." Harry attempted an evil grin- attempted, because he knew he didn't look evil. Malfoy gave him a rather patronizing look. "You're right," Harry sighed. "I should just stick to what I'm good at."
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As Draco returned to his dormitory, he continuously paused in his steps, and shook his head quickly, as though banishing unwanted thoughts. This he did not mind overly much; it was the reason for it that was a bit disconcerting.
He was now officially not enemies with Harry Potter. He never thought he would see the day. How long would it be before they were actually…friends? He shuddered at the thought.
Just his luck, he shuddered right as he entered the dorm, and Hermione happened to be studying for N.E.W.T.s- no surprise there- on the couch. She, of course, noticed. "What's wrong, Draco?"
"A truce with Harry Potter, that's what," he sighed, resigning himself to the inevitable. This *inevitable* was that Hermione would always know what was going on.
Instead of looking shocked, she smiled widely down at her notes. "Way to go, Harry," she murmured.
"What was that?" He was now very close to her, and was gratified when she jumped. He prided himself on his ability to sneak up behind people.
"The last time I talked to Harry, I told him to try to at least be not-hostile to you, and noticeably, so you two could start to be friends. I'm quite tired of this bickering grudge you three hold against each other. Of course, I know Ron is not the best place to start. You have insulted him *more* than Harry, in case you haven't noticed-"
"You think there wasn't a reason for that?" Draco interrupted. At her look, he said, "Sorry, I was just trying to get you to shut up. You were right…huh, I should have suspected…and here I was thinking Potter was extending the hand of friendship all on his own…"
"I think he would have, eventually," Hermione said, opening another book and scanning the index. "He just needed a little push, in order for it to happen in reasonable time."
"And you, of course, are the only one who could have pushed him hard enough," Draco muttered. "…Or me."
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Ron was slightly worried about what had happened that night. "Come on, Harry, please, tell me what you did. Nobody comes out of a detention with Snape smiling like that…except Malfoy, but he's never had a detention with Snape that I know of. Harry, please, you have no idea how much you're freaking me out."
Harry just shook his head. "Sorry, Ron. It's confidential."
"You were cheating, weren't you? I knew this would happen eventually," Ron moaned miserably.
"Ron, you idiot, I love you. Why would I cheat? I would only do it if you did, to make you jealous."
"I'd never cheat on you. Cheat? That's not even in my vocabulary." Ron knew he sounded nervous, but he could not help it. Like he said. *Nobody* comes out of detention with Snape smiling like that…or smiling, period. Something had to have happened.
"Fine then," Ron said. He proceeded to seal off his room, finishing with a Silencing Charm. "I'll have to suck it out of you."
Harry pretended to protest, but his eager smile gave him away. Ron reached into the box of Every Flavor Condoms once again. "Maybe this time the flavor will be okay."
End Chapter 44
Umm, leftover Jack Sparrow-shaped confetti- (from another fic) to reviewers. 20 points to Hufflepuff, good job Sarah. That's all I have to say right now.