Chapter 7: Deception, Disappointment & Detention
Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing. Well, actually that's not true. I own some things. The plot, the…err, well I guess that's all actually. Oops, oh well. At least it's making me a little bit of money…oh wait, it's not! So remind me, why am I writing this again?
IMPORTANT NEWS: I have rewritten the "prologue" so that it is now a full-fledged chapter. Those of you who have not read the opening scene where Snape is by the punch bowl, I would suggest you go back to "The Ball, the Valentine & the Tree" and read it. Thanks!
Author's Note: Thank you all who reviewed, you are my favourite people in the world! Actually, I'm serious. Anyways, I haven't had much time lately to write, let alone to answer those of you who reviewed, so I decided to give my friend Draco Malfoy a chance to respond. After all, he is one of the stars of this little story I'm writing. So, without further ado ladies and gentlemen, I give you Draco Malfoy.
Ahja Reyn: Yams?! Harry tastes like yams?! What on earth posessed you to make Harry tasted like yams?! I read the nc 17 version. I must say, I did enjoy the way you made Draco. That really does sound like something he would do. good job!
Draco: Well, you must be deranged Ahja because the very fact that I was letting Potter do that…that thing that he didis so very UNLIKE me that it's entirely unbelievable. What is wrong with these "Oh, your writing is so realistic" people?! Realistic my arse! I would never be caught with Potter in a million years! As for the yams, who knows what goes through this author's mind?! She's obviously in need of some therapy.
dirtydancerI liked the progression you had, it was realistic, it was two idiot boys with no clue what their doing…Kind of strange though that I've reviewed more than most…
Draco: IT WAS NOT REALISTIC! And excuse me? "Two idiot boys with no clue what their doing?"? Oh, I know what I'm doing dirtydancer, believe you me! I just wish I could STOP it! Sadistic, evil authoress. Also, STOP REVIEWING! All of you, I mean it! You're just encouraging Well... the NC-17 is a little much for me. I'm glad you gave the option and took it out.
Draco: YES! At last someone who agrees with me! No more smutty stuff Lena, they HATE it! They HATE it! Get rid of it ALL! Are you listening to me Lena? Lena?
Lena Oh dear, just ignore him everyone. He's just a little bit upset with me right now. looks behind her at Draco, who is sulking in the corner I think he's in denial.
Draco: I am not in denial! I am in shock! Traumatized by the humiliating and degrading fiction that spews from your pen, you sadistic, perverted-mmmpphh!
Authoress stuffs gag in Draco's mouth
Draco (through the gag): Yrrrg nlggph errrnt!!
Lena Yes, dear. Don't worry. I'll make sure that you and Harry get some more alone time in this chapter.
Draco spits out gag
Draco: HEEEEEELLLLP!
Warning: SLASH
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"I am not in denial, Hermione!" Harry whispered furiously, as Professor Binns continued to drone at the front of the classroom. "I know I can get him back!"
Hermione sighed, a pained expression on her face. The situation wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that after so many years of thinking he was alone, Harry was given Sirius, only to have him taken away just a few years later. It wasn't fair that Harry felt the need to blame himself for Sirius' death, while Bellatrix, Sirius' true murderer, remained at large and guilt-free. It wasn't fair to Sirius for obvious reasons.
It also wasn't fair that at this very moment Harry's face was screwed up in an expression composed of 2 parts desperation and 1 part hope, with just a dash of anger for good measure, and that she would have to be the one to snap him back into reality. Hermione wondered for the hundredth time at just what point their lives had become so complicated. Sirius' death was obviously a crucial factor, but it wasn't the only thing. The new twist to her and Ron's relationship had a bit to do with that as well, not to mention the feelings that Harry had finally returned to Ginny. It was strange to think that they had spent more time together that summer than any other, and yet they had never grown more apart in the summer months away from Hogwarts. Hermione missed that closeness, the bond between Harry and herself. She couldn't be more pleased with the way she and Ron had turned out, but the only somewhat unexpected drawback was that Harry now felt like a third wheel a good portion of the time. She hated that he didn't feel he was as important to them anymore, when nothing could be further from the truth. Now that he had chosen to confide in them again, she had to go and spoil his good mood with a painful reality check.
She began gently. "Harry, what happened to Sirius was dreadful, and we all miss him horribly. When things have gotten rough in the past, you've always been able to fix it and make everything better. But maybe there's no solution this time. Maybe-"
"Ron! You believe me, don't you?" Harry said, turning to his other best friend, cutting Hermione off mid-sentence.
Ron shrugged. "I don't know Harry. I want to believe it, but not all dreams have a deeper meaning."
"Exactly, Ron," Hermione said. "Sometimes a dream is just a dream, Harry."
Ron snorted. "Like the one I had last night where I was a member of one of those muggle barber shop quartets, and we were singing this great song about watermelons-"
Hermione coughed and glared at her boyfriend sternly.
"Err..But then, that's not the point," Ron continued. "The point is that I'm not planning on joining a barber shop quartet just because I dreamed it; and sure, I like watermelons but I don't often feel the need to sing about them…Okay I'll be quiet now." he finished sheepishly, as Hermione continued to glare.
Harry meanwhile, was fuming. "I can't believe you both think I'm going crazy! I would have thought that my friends would stick up for me! Remember when I dreamed Mr. Weasley was attacked by a snake? That dream was more than just a dream – that dream saved your dad's life Ron!"
Ron paled at the memory while Hermione shook her head. "We don't think you're going crazy Harry, and it's not that we don't believe you either. We just don't want you to get your hopes up. We don't want to get our hopes up."
The three friends sat quietly for a moment, thinking in silence.
"It's just…Wouldn't you think that if it was possible, to get Sirius back I mean, wouldn't the Order have figured it out by now?" Hermione pointed out softly.
"The Order didn't know a snake had attacked Mr. Weasley until I told them." Harry grumbled.
"Isn't this where one of us suggests going to see Dumbledore?" Ron said.
Harry groaned. "I know that's what makes the most sense, but…"
"But what Harry?" Hermione prodded gently.
Harry took off his glasses and began fiddling with them. "I just don't know if that's the best idea right now. Y'know, after everything that's happened I'm not sure if going to see him would be…the right thing to do."
"Harry, we've always gone to Dumbledore with things like this, and it's always been the right thing to do." Hermione hesitated. "What's different now?"
Harry put his glasses back on. "It's just, after last year ending the way it did, I don't really…" Harry trailed off. "I'm not sure I trust him anymore."
Ron raised his eyebrows. "It was a pretty big shock mate, but don't you think he did the right thing? I mean, when you first came to Hogwarts you wouldn't have been able to deal with information like that. He waited until he thought you were ready."
Hermione nodded in agreement. "If you can't trust Dumbledore with this information, who can you trust?"
Harry exhaled loudly. "I know all that, but…I just can't help but wondering, y'know? What else is there that he isn't telling me?"
The bell sounded, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione all got up and headed to their next classes. Harry sighed. He had a lot to think about.
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Draco sat on his bed after classes that day, quill and parchment in front of him. Lucius would be expecting an answer soon, and Draco didn't have one yet. He was going over the contents of last night's letter in his head again when Blaise barged into the room.
"Have you heard of knocking?" Draco asked grumpily.
"You do realize that you share this room, don't you?" Blaise asked sarcastically, flopping onto the bed beside him. "So…You and Cassandra, huh?" Blaise said offhandedly, despite the fact that he'd punched his fist through a wall when he'd first heard. There was no point in overreacting until he'd given Malfoy a chance to defend himself. Maybe it was just a rumour?
"Oh yeah, sorry about that, you rather fancied her, didn't you?" Draco said distractedly, his mind still on the letter.
"Yeah, just a tad." Blaise replied stiffly, his jaw clenched. Just relax he told himself sternly. Cassandra was just a girl after all, and the Malfoys were only one of the most powerful wizard families in the Dark Lord's circle. It was never a good idea to get a Malfoy mad. In fact, there was no need for Blaise to get mad either. No, getting even was much better than getting mad.
"Don't worry about it mate, I've already moved on." Blaise lied through his teeth, biting his tongue to stop himself from saying everything he wanted to say.
"Uh, right." Draco said. Blaise's curiosity got the better of him.
"What are you writing?" he asked, leaning over and grabbing the letter. "Dear Lucius," Blaise read aloud. He looked up from the letter.
"Dear Lucius? You've been in here for forty-five minutes, and all you've written is 'Dear Lucius'?"
"I'm a slow writer," Draco replied in annoyance, snatching the parchment back.
Blaise fell back onto his bed. "So what does daddy dearest want this time?"
Draco threw the parchment aside in defeat and lay back as well. "Seems he heard about Cassandra too. Wants me to use her to get to Baruch."
Blaise looked over in surprise. "Baruch as in Baruch Demos? As in her father, the most influential Death Eater there is? Whoa, Lucius isn't taking any prisoners."
Draco sighed. "That's the one. Leave it to Lucius to find his silver lining in my cloud. Now that Pansy's dumped me it seems I get to be Lucius' whore-for-rent."
"There are worse things." Blaise said with a wry smile.
"Maybe." Draco allowed.
Blaise could see that there wasn't any use in trying to get any more out of Malfoy, whose head was somewhere else again.
"Well, good luck with that." Blaise said, getting up from the bed and exiting the room, leaving Draco to his own devices.
"Nuh." Draco grunted. In retrospect, it might not have been the best idea to talk to Blaise so freely about Cassandra, or the contents of his father's letter.
"Hey Blaise?" Draco called after him, taking his wand from the bedside table.
"Yeah?" Blaise asked, appearing at the doorway again.
"Obliviate." Draco incanted, raising his wand to point at the other Slytherin. There was a beat of silence before the other boy spoke again.
"Sorry Malfoy, what were you saying?"
Malfoy smiled. "Nothing. Why don't you go find Cassandra? I hear she's been asking about you."
Blaise's eyes lit up. "Really? Thanks for the tip!"
As Blaise ran off, Draco smirked to himself. It was best that for the time being Blaise remained unaware of what had occurred between Cassandra and himself. After all, Draco didn't want to wake up one morning to find that he'd been stabbed in his sleep.
He turned back to the letter. It would be idiotic to refuse his father's orders, yet he didn't like the idea of selling himself for information. Although, the look on Pansy's face when she found out he had moved on to Cassandra of all people would be priceless. However, the truth was that beginning a relationship with a Demos would only dig him deeper into a hole he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to be in. Not to mention…
Potter. Draco had been so distracted by his father's letter that almost all thoughts of the annoyingly perfect Gryffindor had been pushed from his mind. But now they were back, and Malfoy couldn't help the flush that crept across his cheeks as he thought back to last night's activities.
He shook his head, determined to remain unaffected. He refused to act like a silly little schoolgirl with a crush. Besides, he had more important things to think about. Like what he was going to say to his father, his Charms homework, Potter's lips, Potter's hair, Potter's…
Oh bollocks.
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Harry walked slowly through Hogwarts' halls, occasionally running into another student, but otherwise alone. He was on his way to see Dumbledore, after having spent the better part of the day putting it off. Harry had spent plenty of time during the summer going over everything that had taken place between Dumbledore and himself at the end of 5th year. Over these summer months that he'd spent away from Hogwarts he'd been forced to reconstruct his opinion of the headmaster. While Harry had never doubted that the old man had his best interests at heart, Harry had come to understand that Dumbledore never revealed all of his cards.
Dumbledore had grown accustomed to making other people's choices for them. He had learned to recognize people's strengths and to use them to his own advantage, according to his agenda. Despite the fact that Harry knew that Dumbledore's agenda was for the greater good, he didn't like being kept in the dark – and he really didn't like being played like a puppet.
Harry stopped suddenly when he caught sight of Malfoy walking towards him. Malfoy stopped as well, a few feet away.
"Err, hello." Harry began.
"Yeah, hi." Malfoy answered just as awkwardly.
"Where are you going?" Harry asked in what he assumed to be a conversational manner.
Malfoy looked at him curiously. "Owlery. Letter for my father." He said, holding up the parchment.
"Oh. Okay, well see you later." Harry said lamely.
"Right. Bye." Malfoy said, fixing Harry with another odd glance before continuing on his way.
Harry continued too, mentally slapping himself. Smooth – real smooth he thought as he approached the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to the headmaster's office. What was he expected to say after last night? He imagined the scene again in his mind, only changing the dialogue.
'Hello Malfoy, how did you sleep last night?'
'Well Potter, after that mind-blowing snog session last night I slept like a baby'
'How lovely. We should definitely snog again sometime.'
'Oh yes, definitely. How about right now?'
'Well, if you insist…'
Harry blushed at the image his mind conjured, and then immediately chastised himself. It was important that Harry stayed purely in business mode for his confrontation with Dumbledore. Resolving to do so, he pulled out a piece of parchment from his robes and began reciting. "Fizzing Whizzbee, Cockroach Cluster, Bertie Bott's Every-Flavoured Beans, Pumpkin Pasty, Sherbert Lemon, Chocolate Frogs, Sugar Quill, Acid Pop, Pepper Imp-"
The gargoyle sprang to life and leapt to the side as the wall behind it split apart to reveal a hidden staircase.
"Pepper Imp it is." Harry muttered to himself, replacing the parchment back where it belonged. He'd put together the list at the beginning of that year, upon realizing that in an emergency he could save precious time if he didn't have to spend hours trying to guess Dumbledore's candy-of-the-week. Ron had helped him, and together they had named on parchment practically every candy that existed on this earth. Ron was so proud that he tacked it onto the Gryffindor notice board, where everyone could admire their work. The fact that Hermione had taken it down when she heard and reprimanded them for using the notice board as their own personal "brag board" had done little to deter Ron's pride in their accomplishment.
At last Harry reached the top of the staircase, where he seized the griffin knocker firmly and rapped it against the hard wood of the door in front of him.
"Come in, come in." Dumbledore's voice called from the other side of the door. Harry entered.
"Why Harry, what brings you here?" Dumbledore questioned, looking up from his desk. He gestured to a chair and Harry sat down in it.
"Would you like some tea?" the headmaster offered, standing up and reaching for the kettle.
"No thank you Professor Dumbledore." Harry replied courteously, but with an impersonal air. He'd rather just get on with it. After all, if rescuing Sirius was truly possible, then the sooner he told Dumbledore the sooner he would have Sirius back. On the other hand, if his dream was just a product of his overactive imagination, the sooner he told Dumbledore the sooner this whole embarrassing scene would be over.
"No tea Harry? My, this must be serious." Dumbledore replied, a twinkling in his eyes that suggested he was in some way poking fun at the young Gryffindor.
"It is serious." Harry confirmed, ignoring the twinkle. He began for the second time that day to relate the details of his dream. Dumbledore sat patiently, listening to the young boy, nodding and "hmmming" at the appropriate intervals. When Harry had finished he slumped back in the chair, waiting for Dumbledore to spring to action. But Dumbledore merely smiled sadly.
"Harry, my dear boy. The subconscious mind is a mysterious thing. It can take us to wonderful places and it can certainly allow us to do wonderful things. But the actions we take in our dreams are just fabrications of our imagination, not prophecies."
Harry froze. That wasn't the reaction he'd been expecting at all. He had been expecting a scene, an "Aha!", trumpets blaring, a choir, an epiphany, even just for the headmaster to stroke his beard in a quiet sort of contemplation. But dismissal? This certainly wasn't how this scene had played out in his mind.
"It was just a dream." Harry said slowly, not fully comprehending what he was being told. It couldn't be just a dream. It had felt so real.
"Just a dream." Dumbledore confirmed.
"No. No it wasn't." Harry said slowly, still not willing to accept what he was being told. There was more to it than that. He knew there was.
"Harry, Hermione may have been right when she mentioned that this may be your subconscious trying to invent an answer to an impossible question. I believe it was a fine muggle named David Schwartz who said "Every challenge we face can be solved by a dream". A wise man Harry. But not every challenge can be solved by the light of day."
"But Sirius…"
"…is gone, Harry." Dumbledore said firmly.
Harry rose stiffly, nodded to the headmaster in comprehension, and made to leave the room. There was nothing left to do now. Go back to his life, he supposed. Pray that he soon found himself inflicted with amnesia after a sharp blow to the head. Maybe that would solve the multitude of problems that were piling up.
"And Harry?" Dumbledore called after him.
"Yes sir?" Harry asked.
"Don't forget your detention. Tonight at eight o'clock in the library. Madam Pince will be waiting for you."
Harry nodded in understanding, and then exited the room, the door swinging shut behind him.
Dumbledore heaved a sigh, turning to the beautiful phoenix beside him.
"Have I done the right thing Fawkes?"
Fawkes paused in the preening of his magnificent golden feathers and stared into the headmaster's old, sorrowful eyes. The bird had no answer for him. Phineas however, who had watched the whole scene play out from his portrait on the wall, had plenty to say as usual.
"He's not a very bright boy, is he? Fell for it hook, line and sinker. You'd think with parents like Lily and James he'd have a few more brains in that head of his."
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Harry had sat numbly throughout dinner, vaguely aware of the conversations going on around him but not really participating in any of them. He was emotionally exhausted, so to speak. Harry wanted nothing more at that moment than to go back to the Gryffindor Common Room, burrow under his bed covers, and tell the world to go away for a little while. But alas, he found he was excusing himself from the table only to head straight to the library for his detention.
Harry walked through the corridors, speeding up as he caught sight of a clock on the nearby wall. While he walked he started to think back to his conversation with Dumbledore. It didn't make sense. Why would Dumbledore have completely ignored his dream? Why wouldn't he have looked into it? It wasn't as though Harry had dreamt about a barber shop quartet, he had dreamt about a matter of life and death! Sirius' life and death! As Harry continued his journey to the library, he got more and more worked up. There had to be more to it than that. That dream was not nothing.
Draco looked up from a nearby table as Harry practically stormed in, but made no other sign of acknowledgement. Harry, too preoccupied to analyse the mystery that was Malfoy at the current moment, simply walked over and sat down.
Harry sat there steaming for awhile longer before he finally cooled down. He could think about this later. Hermione would probably have some insight into the situation. For now, he should just let it go.
"So, what are we supposed to be doing?" he asked the Slytherin, who was inspecting his cuticles with heavy interest.
Malfoy looked up once again. "Pince said to wait for you so that she didn't have to explain it twice."
As if on cue, Madam Pince appeared as if by magic from behind some nearby bookcases. "Ah, Harry. Perfect. Will you two both follow me?"
Both boys got to their feet and followed the woman to a deceptively small filing cabinet placed inconspicuously between some shelves.
"Now, I believe Dumbledore has given you a brief understanding of what your task will be?" Harry and Draco both nodded. "Very well. What we have here is the library's cataloguing system."
"It all fits in there?" Malfoy interrupted. He looked at the small filing cabinet dubiously.
"Yes Mr. Malfoy, it all fits in there." Madam Pince confirmed, slightly peeved at having been cut off.
"It's awfully small." Malfoy pointed out.
"By all means Mr. Malfoy, if you don't believe me then take a look yourself." Madam Pince said in annoyance.
Draco snorted and, taking the key from Madam Pince, unlocked the filing cabinet. The cabinet clicked and then-
BAM! As the filing cabinet was released it shot out, catching Draco at his midsection and flinging him across the room with its momentum. Draco was slammed against the opposite wall, a good 35 feet away.
To say that Draco was surprised was certainly an understatement. To say he was angry wasn't quite getting there either.
"You, you knew that was going to happen!" Draco sputtered madly, trying to free himself from the cabinet which had pinned him against the wall. Madam Pince merely smiled a knowing smile.
"How do you…" Harry trailed off, amazed.
"The back of that filing cabinet is enchanted, of course. Now enough of this nonsense, Mr. Malfoy. Pull yourself together and come on over. We don't have all night."
Draco managed to free himself and stomped back over while mumbling profanities to himself, clearly not in good spirits. One warning glance from Madam Pince shut him up though, and he seethed silently as she continued to explain the system. Correction. The evil system that had tried to kill him. He looked over at Harry, who hadn't appeared all that fazed by Draco's amazing stunt. Draco would have expected more of a reaction. Either laughter or sympathy, but certainly not indifference.
"Currently everything here is organized alphabetically by genre, but that doesn't do one much use when cross-referencing, so…"
Draco let her voice fade into background noise as he shot a discrete once-over in Potter's direction. He looked like shite. Attractive shite, but shite nonetheless. His eyes had dark bags underneath them which his glasses failed to hide, and his posture was abominable. Not to mention his wardrobe. Well, that had always been a bit of an issue, but still, it was worth mentioning.
When Madam Pince finished her never-ending monologue the boys began their work. The stern librarian supervised for awhile, but was eventually called away by a student in search of a book on the feeding habits of the Bowtruckle for a school assignment. As soon as she was out of sight, Draco put down the books he had been previously sorting.
"What's wrong with you?" Draco asked, settling back into a nearby chair.
Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "Nothing's wrong with me. Is there something wrong with you? That was quite a beating you received from that filing cabinet."
Malfoy scowled. "I'm fine. Not that you're actually concerned or anything. And there is something wrong with you, you look awful."
Harry returned the scowl. "Why thank you." He said sarcastically.
Malfoy frowned. "You know what I mean. Not awful awful, just not-feeling-well awful. You're not awful-looking"
Harry raised his eyebrows. "So you admit that you think I'm hot?"
Malfoy spluttered. "What!? When did I say that? You need to stop reading things into other things Potter."
Harry smiled. Teasing Malfoy was actually a lot more fun than fighting with him "Come on, just say it. You think I'm a hunk."
"I do NOT!" Malfoy denied furiously.
"Do too. You think I'm a hunk and all you want to do right now is shove me up against one of these shelves and ravage me." Honestly, Harry was surprised that he had the guts to even think such a thing, let alone say it. Today had not been one of his finest however, and he could do for some amusement right about now. Malfoy wasn't doing such a horrible job of providing it either, protesting indignantly as Harry continued his suggestive comments. It felt good to have the upper hand for once, as far as Malfoy was concerned.
"You are insane Potter! You need to be carted off to St. Mungos, and FAST!"
"Oh come on, you want me!"
"Keep your voice down!" Draco whispered furiously, darting his eyes around frantically.
"You want to grab me and kiss me and-"
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Draco practically screeched.
"Keep your voice down!" Harry said teasingly, mocking Draco's earlier words.
Draco stood there fuming for several moments while Harry watched him curiously, as one might watch a spider that had been flipped on its back and was struggling to right itself. Eventually Harry lost interest though, and turned back to the books that had been momentarily forgotten.
Draco came over after a moment. "What're you playing at Potter?"
"Don't know what you're talking about." Potter said noncommittally.
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Sure you do. Remember? You want me to grab you…"
He took hold of Harry's shoulders and spun him around so that they were face to face.
"…shove you against the shelves…"
Malfoy pushed Harry back unexpectedly so that the Gryffindor almost tripped over a pile of books.
"…kiss you…"
He leaned in and claimed Harry's lips, in a way entirely unlike their previous encounters. This kiss wasn't rushed or painful. This kiss was slow, deliberate, and more passionate than any of the aforementioned previous ones. Harry surrendered against excruciatingly soft lips, working against his in a way that sent familiar hot waves sweeping into his belly. Draco's tongue licked its way along Harry's lips, this time asking for permission to enter instead of simply thrusting in. Harry parted his lips in assent and Draco plunged his tongue into Harry's mouth eagerly, seeking Harry's tongue. They grappled together like that for some time before Draco pulled back.
"…ravage you…"
He bent down to begin his work on the raven-haired boy's neck, biting the tender skin found at the conjuncture between his Adam's Apple and his throat, pulling the flesh into his mouth and sucking, before finally kissing the soft skin and moving on to another spot. He unbuttoned Harry's shirt one button at a time, taking the time to kiss each section of newly exposed flesh as it was revealed before him. He then took a nipple firmly into his mouth and began to swirl his tongue in a way that had Harry arching his back for more. The Slytherin pulled up after a moment and looked imploringly into Harry's dazed expression.
"Remember?" Draco coaxed again.
"Sure I remember." Harry said, his voice coming out a little more breathy than he had intended.
Malfoy smiled. "Good. Glad we got that cleared up then."
He turned over to his own pile of books and began to work again. Harry stared after him, still in shock. Finally he spoke.
"What're you playing at Malfoy?"
"Don't know what you're talking about." Malfoy said, using the exact same words and the exact same noncommittal tone that Harry had used on him minutes before.
Harry shook his head and turned back to his books, smiling slightly. If this was the way it was going to be then Malfoy had better know what he was getting himself into, because Harry was ready to play. And this was a game he wasn't going to lose.
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Draco: That. Was. Sickening. Are you all out of your bloody MINDS? You read this shite for entertainment? My dear, dear fans, you must buy a tellyvision. I've got to admit, not a bad invention you muggles have come up with. Since a certain someone has decided to hold me hostage, I've had nothing to do all day long but watch re-runs of bad teen soaps. I'm actually starting to enjoy that Dawson River thing Pansy was going on about. Pacey is pretty hot! Err, Joey. Joey is pretty hot. The girl. I just got the names mixed up, that's all…don't give me that look. I'm straight damn it!
Lena: Sure Draco. Don't worry, we all believe you. By the way, I just got the cable bill and there's some pretty odd stuff on here. Did you pay for a movie called "Doctor Do-Me-A-Little"? I thought you said that you enjoyed staying up late because it gave you time to think, not to watch gay porn.
Draco: I've had it – I will not take this abuse! Now, I demand all of you leave this webpage at once. Do NOT hit that review button. I'm warning you! There will be dire consequences should you choose to further provoke this raving lunatic. DIRE CONSEQUENCES!
Lena: Please ignore him. Reviewing will not subject you to dire consequences. Reviewing will only make me excedingly happy, prompting me to update more quickly, as well as love you forever. So, review!