Second story: And you still think about it, don't you?

Ron was quite thoughtful when they went back to the Great Hall to eat something. He wasn't paying attention when Hermione and Harry chatted. If he had been listening he would talk passionately with them, because their chat was dealing with Quidditch! Exactly, about the next Quidditch match. And Ron wasn't paying attention…
"Ron, haven't you finished the Potion homework yet?" asked Hermione who was sure he worried over the ingredients to this nasty potion Professor Snape told them to write about.

"Uh?" Ron shrugged. "No, no… I have finished it … I wrote too much." He told her rough. Hermione and Harry, each of them, rose an eyebrow – Ron and finished homework? Long before they need to give it to their teacher? And than POTIONS? With SNAPE?

"I didn't do it on purpose." Mumbled Ron.

"Ron, are you okay?" Hermione's voice was full of anxiety.

"O'course I am." He gave her a little snort. "I was so occupied with my thoughts, I just didn't realise I was ready already and wrote some more inches."

Harry ran into Hermione who immediately stopped.

"Some more inches?" She watched him suspiciously. "Oh Ron! Don't tell me… no, tell me… And you still think about this muggle-writings, don't you?"

Ron pardonably grinned. "I was just wondering if there was no other way to hand it to our 'dear friend' without making Harry feel uncomfortable." He gave a little chuckle. "The expressions on your faces are WONDERFUL! I should run away - fast!" He gave speed and they ran after him. "Yeah, I was quite hungry." He excused himself for behaving this way as people stared at him wondering when he sped into the Great Hall.

"Still hungry because they cannot feed you at home?" He heard a voice behind him and wheeled around. Harry and Hermione chuckled. "YOUR expression is wonderful NOW." They took him by the hand and led him to the table. "We're sorry, Ron." She said softly and gave him an adorable smile. He blushed and muttered: "It… it's okay." Harry gave him another grin and a twinkle and collapsed afterwards chuckling – fell of his chair and was lying laughing under the table.

It was time to feed yourself, therefore all people disappeared from the library. Not all people. Almost all people. A group of Slytherins was still there. Draco Malfoy stood up and went slowly towards the computer, aware not to touch it. "Let's see what they've done." But the monitor was black, the computer off. The printer gave a noise. Pansy Parkinson bowed over the printer: "Draco, there's some paper with a printed text." He gave her a sharp look. Wasn't she able to make a proper sentence? Printed text. He snorted. "Oh! There's your name here!" she cried in amazement. "What?" Draco's eyes narrowed. "Give it to me." His voice was cold, low, sharp… She handed the paper to Draco. Draco's eyes ran fast over the first lines, some Slytherins behind him started to read, too. He wheeled around and said furiously: "I'll read it on my own."