(A/N: Ok, hello all of you. Thank you for all the reviews, and please keep reviewing as it's so nice to know that people are actually reading this. You know, because if no one is reading this, then there's no point in my writing it and putting it up. So keep up the good work! Please? And to everyone who's reviewed so far ... I love you all. Seriously, y'all rock, yo'. Ok, enough with the freaky gangsta/texan lingo. It's bad, I know, no need to comment. But if it'll get me a review, then by all means, comment all you like!

Anyway, please Read, Review and Enjoy!

)

Hermione was at her lesson with Professor McGonagall, Harry and Ron were playing exploding snap in the Gryffindor Common room, and all seemed well with the world – for once. Except for the fuming Slytherin seventh year, pacing around his room.

Why had he been so stupid as to do that in an open space? What had he been thinking? Had his brain taken temporary leave of his senses? Stupid, stupid move. Now he'd never get anything out of her. She would tell the pair of walking idiots, and they wouldn't leave her side for more than a minute now. Ohh, stupid.

Why the hell hadn't he just stunned her, picked her up, carried her to his room and done whatever he felt like then?! No one would have caught him and he'd be a lot happier right now. Seriously, he has been kicking himself for the last half an hour. And it hurt.

At least he'd be punished by his godfather. I mean, it could be a lot worse. He could have been sent to Dumbledore. And everyone knew that the old coot didn't take lightly to any molesting of any sort. He didn't even like the prefects messing around during a game of Truth or Dare. Only, of course, when the dare was anything less than innocent.

How he knew when this happened, he'd never know. But everyone knew that they shouldn't give any … rude dares to anyone under the age of sixteen, or they'd be facing a long talk to Professor McGonagall about 'The Birds and the Bees'.

Anyway, he probably would have given him a months worth of detention and told him to stay away from Granger. And he could never let that happen, could he. But with Severus dealing out the punishment, he couldn't go wrong. Like his own godfather would do anything majorly bad to him. As if!

Well, he'd find out at the meeting in half an hour. Until then, he had a lot more pacing and self-cursing to do. How could he be so thick? Jeez.

Meanwhile, Harry and Ron were indeed playing exploding snap in the common room. In fact, they'd gathered quite a crowd as the pile got thicker and thicker. Yet it still hadn't exploded. Now this wasn't usually a strange thing, but as Ron placed the last card in his hand on the pile, he raised an eyebrow and looked up at Harry.

"Harry, please tell me this isn't an ordinary pack?" He said, nervously eyeing the pile of cards.

"I don't know. It's just a pack of cards that Fred and George gave me when I asked them for one." He replied, shrugging his shoulders and getting up for a closer look at the cards.

"FRED!" Ron shouted over the chattering crowd around them, "What pack of cards did you give to Harry?"

"Exploding! Duuh." Was the yelled reply he got back from his older brother, who was over by the dormitory entrance, handing out free samples of the new 'Bedtime Beauty' range for girls they had started stocking in their joke shop.

Problem with that was that no one actually knew what they did yet, and none of the seventh year girls were willing to try it out, on account of what happened the last time they agreed to test out anything that Fred and/or George gave them.

All the girls had been left with beards, after trying out some of the moisturising cream that was '5 sickles, but for you lovely ladies, it's free!'. Not exactly the nicest thing in the world. They all had to resort to sneaking out of their rooms and down to the boys' bathroom, to borrow their razors and shave off the long beards in the dead of night.

So you can pretty much guess why none of the older girls would go anywhere near then when they were promoting. No matter how good whatever they were holding looked. The second and first years however … well, they were a completely different story. Of course they'd jump at the chance of free beauty supplies.

Harry now looked warily at the pile of cards sitting messily on the table, and then stood up. "You know what, Ron? I think I'm gonna go and see how Hermione's doing."

"'Mione's in her lesson, doofus." Ron said off-handedly, leaning in for a closer look at the wavering pile on the table. Tilting his head, he drew back and stretched out a long finger.

"Oh yeah. Well, – wait, Ron. What are you doing, you idiot. Don't touch i–!" He screeched over the loud collective gasp the audience made as Ron's finger came into contact with the now wobbling mess on the table.

All of a sudden, the crowd ducked and screamed, as the whole thing blew up in Ron's face. Yelling, Harry pushed his way back through the people running around like headless chickens, and back to where Ron was now cowering under the table.

"Ron! Ron, are you Ok?" He asked, bending down and grabbing his best friend's shoulder, "Come on, Ron, look at me. I'm sure it can't be that bad."

"Go away." Came the muffled reply from the jumble of red hair and blankets.

"Ron, show me, or I'll go get Dumbledore." Harry threatened, turning and heading slowly to the door to prove he would.

He heard Ron growl, then sigh. "Fine." And he lifted his head up.

Harry tried to stifle the laughter bubbling up at the back of this throat, and simply said "It's not so bad!" This was such a blatant lie. Ron's eyebrows were gone. Again. Talk about Déjà vu. Failing to hold it in anymore, Harry burst out laughing. Ron huffed and stalked out of the common room in a fit of anger at being laughed at.

Storming down a corridor some floors down, however, who should he run into, but Draco Malfoy.