In Which there is an Interlude of Magazines.

Draco Malfoy inserted a crisp into his mouth very slowly; he then proceeded to chew very slowly. Apparently he couldn't do two things at once and the magazine was clearly more important.

"Is he always like this?" Hannah whispered to Seamus. Seamus nodded sagely, a look of infinite sadness spread comically over his face.

"He's never been how he was before since he discovered 'Cosmo.'" Hannah just about swallowed her own tonsils. Shooting Seamus a sideways look she slumped slightly lower in her chair and eyed the magazine cover. She had thought she was being reasonably subtle; obviously not. Malfoy looked up, still chewing, anger all over his, face.

He spoke in a deadly whisper, "Are you eyeing my magazine, Abbot?"

Hannah sat back up in her seat quickly. "No, no, just… erm, eyeing that er…." She was bullshitting her way into a very deep hole and she knew it.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes as he surveyed her like prey. The matter was clearly serious, as he closed the magazine, marking the page with his finger.

"I don't know if you know this, Abbot," he began in a very slow drawl, eyeing Hannah with great dislike. "But I'm very much attached to my magazines, almost as much as Boot is to his Weasley."

Hannah would have laughed if the situation had been less scary; she really didn't think herself in a position do be annoying Malfoy further. Seamus obviously felt the same; he had ever so quietly moved his chair away from them in the past couple of minutes.

'Wise move,' Hannah thought, as Malfoy stared piercingly at her.

"Some of them say I have a problem," Malfoy went on, looking hurt and not slightly insane. "But I know differently, what's wrong with a magazine? One here, one there, honestly, what's the harm?" he was leaning forwards now, talking to her in earnest, eye's wide and pleading.

"Oh nothing," Hannah seconded, again she didn't feel in any position to disagree; Malfoy seemed in need of dire therapy to her.

"I mean," he went on, unaware of the rest of the people in the room eyeing her sympathetically, "really? What's the worst that could happen? The odd article never did any harm to anyone; did you know I'm reading about a girl's struggle to distance herself from her father who is stalking her via means of tomato ketchup and a tampon?" Malfoy looked deadly serious. Hannah was deadly scared. At that moment the doorbell rung,

"Oh that's for me, I need emergency surgery ASAP, bye!" and with that Hannah ran, tail between her legs into the kitchen. She ran in just in time to see Ron answer the door and Hermione and Blaise exit swiftly after her.

Lucky bitch, she gets a Slytherin sex God and I get a Slytherin magazine God!

In which Harry is Confused

Harry followed Hannah into the kitchen when he heard the doorbell ring; it had the added bonus of avoiding Malfoy, who seemed to be devouring 'Cosmo.' Not to mention he was hungry; it really was rather tiring watching the people around you be involved in all the trivia, trivia which came as standard with Hermione's Dinner Party's.

He positioned himself behind Hannah, talking the food from her and putting it on the table as Ron inspected a credit card Hermione had left out.

"Do you need two?" he asked the delivery man uncertainly, staring at the piece of plastic. The man's eyes widened slightly,

"Erm, if you have another?" Ron pulled open a few draws before finding Hermione's purse. He unzipped it and handed the man the first card in there. He received the two cards and made a hasty exit.

"Plates Harry, plates," Hannah said, collecting the cutlery and napkins which Neville had set out earlier and setting the table. Harry dutifully did as he was told and began setting the table.

"I was just thinking," he began as Ron threw himself into the nearest seat.

"Don't strain yourself," Hannah said mildly, folding napkins.

"No, well… where's Hermione?" Harry asked, ignoring Hannah's comment. She looked at him as if he were stupid.

"And now you mention it Harry, Blaise is missing too!" she was putting on a higher, astonished voice. Harry frowned for a moment,

"NO! I'll kill him!" Harry exclaimed, jumping up. Hannah tutted and pushed him back down.

"Harry, sweetheart, no," she began rather patronizingly. "Hermione, although slightly tipsy is a perfectly capable human being, perhaps more so than most people sober. She is perfectly fine with having her brains shagged out by Mr dark and mysterious Slytherin. Accept it," she spoke calmly, in a way which made Harry want to hit her.

Harry's shoulders slumped, somehow he felt he could never win with women in his life; between Hermione, Hannah and Ginny did he really have a chance? He instead began to take out the Chinese food and distribute rthe cardboard packets onto the plates.

"What does it taste like?" he asked, opening one up and sniffing. Hannah paused, apparently in thought,

"Have you ever had Italian?"

"Yes."

"Not at all like that," said Hannah.

"Oh that tells me a lot," Harry said sarcastically, setting down the food.

"Well actually it does, Italian is quite tomato tasting and herbal, this isn't," Hannah reasoned, with a flourish of her napkin.

"So, is it like Indian?" Harry asked.

"No, not particularly,"

"Like American food?"

"No, 'fraid not,"

"Erm… English food?"

Hannah looked at him sympathetically,

"Be quiet, Harry."