Chapter 8! Dished out exactly one month after the previous. Wow. For me, that has to be a record or something.
Okay. Here it is:
Chapter Eight
Day Two
It felt odd.
Neville didn't like the yawning expanse of table stretching off to both sides of him. It was… wrong, not seeing Ron yelling and hurling food at Harry, or Seamus cramming for a test with Dean, or the Weasley twins testing their freshest batch of Fizzle Blasters on unsuspecting first years. The Gryffindor table was deathly silent, and he didn't like it.
Ginny glanced sympathetically at him as he shifted uneasily in his seat. He awkwardly tried to smile back, and spooned some cereal into his mouth.
It was going to be a long, long month.
"So," said Ginny after a while, "I suppose we'll try the Hufflepuffs today. You're friends with some of them, aren't you?"
Neville paled considerably and slowly nodded, his stomach turning to lead. "I do, but Ginny, I don't want to do this. I… I can't just go up to them and…"
"Yes you can, Neville," his red-haired companion said sternly. She leveled him with her patented school marm gaze, and Neville quickly wilted under it. "And you will. Just be grateful I'm not making you kiss them like I did yesterday."
Neville choked on his cereal, dropped his spoon with a clatter and flushed pure crimson. Several Ravenclaws snapped around and stared at him with wide eyes, as if they expected him to sprout a second head or turn into a frog. When nothing remotely Snape-ish happened to him, they grumbled disappointedly to themselves and turned back around. Ginny smiled serenely as Neville attempted to regain his composure.
Yesterday had been hell for Neville. After he had regained use of his legs, Ginny hauled him back inside. There had been a slight diversion when they'd been chased by a singing clock and candelabra, but eventually they made their way back to the portrait hole. After a great deal of wheedling, bowing, and flattery, the Fat Lady-turned-maniacal Mistress of Evil let them in, where they found the entire Gryffindor population… unconscious.
This had been something of a shock to them. However, after ensuring that they were actually unconscious, and not dead, they chalked it up to another spell and continued merrily about their business.
Actually, the unconsciousness factor had proved to be something of a boon. Ginny'd clapped her hands together, beaming, and said to Neville, "Great! This will make things so much easier! Hermione mentioned once that kissing equals true love in these Muggle fairytales, so now all you have to do is go around and kiss everyone! And since they're all unconscious, they can't say no! Maybe the squid did this for us! We'll have to thank him later."
Neville had not been similarly overjoyed. In fact, he wasn't thrilled at all. After turning several interesting shades of white, he'd raked his hand through his hair and said unhappily, "Well, I don't know… isn't that kind of… taking advantage of them?"
Ginny snorted. "Of course not! It's just a little peck. Now get started, Neville."
After twenty minutes of protest and struggle, she'd finally convinced him to do it. Looking extremely put out, he'd clumsily planted a kiss on every Gryffindor girl in the room. Nothing. No response.
"It'll work today," Ginny said confidently, "We'll find someone for you."
Neville sighed and picked up his spoon, absently wiping up some of the milk he had spilled with his sleeve.
He hated his life.
~*~*~*~*~
Draco'd had odd dreams last night. He couldn't remember exactly what they were about, but when he woke up he was left with a vaguely… warm and fuzzy feeling. [1] It must have been some sort of nightmare.
And the warm and fuzzy feelings were starting to piss him off. He glowered at the glowing blue sky and puffy clouds, glowered at the idly chattering student populace, glowered at the now occupied Gryffindor table. Especially at the now occupied Gryffindor table. The fact that Longbottom and one of the Weasley brats had gotten out of Snape's whole Eternal Sleep crap bugged him. It irritated him even more that the Weasley girl was sitting in Potter's seat, although he wasn't exactly sure why. Probably since she was most likely pining after his absence and trying to absorb his Almighty Potterness through the chair or something...
He glowered at the plate of food Potter had deposited on his rock that morning.
He hadn't even looked at him that morning. Draco'd been anticipating some sort of jibe, or snarling comeback from last night's spar, but he had just entered the hall, dumped the food at his feet, and walked off.
Probably bitter since I'm right and he knows it, Draco thought sourly, jabbing viciously at his scrambled eggs.
At that point Draco's thoughts were blasted into pieces by the sudden entrance of Snape.
The former Potions Master burst in with the owl post, a flurry of pink among the cloud of brown and white. Or... what should have been a cloud of brown and white.
All of the owls were pink.
A general howl of alarm swelled among the students as horrified cries of 'Oh, my poor Finikins!' and 'Hestia's plumage is ruined!' swept the room.
Draco snorted disinterestedly and leaned back against his sword.
Snape was such a drama queen.
Slowly, the hook-nosed man descended and landed gently on the ground. He cleared his throat. The room was immediately silent. Neville hid under the table.
The remaining population of Hogwarts stared at their former Potions Master in a mix of awe and horror. No one moved.
"This room is so gloomy," complained Snape, twirling a strand of greasy hair around his fingers. "I mean, what were the school's founders thinking when they designed this place? Absolutely horrific! Don't you think a change is in order, darlings?"
Without waiting for a response, he went into Super Fairy Godmother Mode and pirouetted on the spot, giggling hysterically and waving his wand.
All the way down in Hogsmeade, the howls of agony were clearly audible as Snape's redecorating plan commenced.
~*~*~*~*~
TBC
Well, there's Chapter 8. Rather uneventful, sorry. ^_^() Many, many thanks to everyone who reviewed! Especially She-Who-Is-Not-To-Be-Psyc; I appreciate your criticism. I'll try to keep it in mind the next time I toss out a H/D scene, although I can't promise anything... as you've noted H/D interaction isn't my strong point. Oh well.
[1] Well, well. I wonder what Draco was dreaming about? Hmm, that's a toughie…