Ron sighed as he lifted the door handle to McGonagall's classroom. He could deal with detention, but detention with Harry? He had a bad feeling in his gut.

"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said from her desk, not looking up from the stack of papers in front of her. Harry was already sitting at the table nearest to her, kicking his foot at nothing. "Sit," She instructed when he was about two feet away from her desk. He took a seat at another table, avoiding Harry's eyes. The three sat in silence for what seemed like ten minutes, the only sound was Professor McGonagall's quill scratching on the papers. "Alright," She said suddenly, making Harry and Ron snap out of their little daze. "You'll be doing some cleaning tonight, boys. You know that Filch has refused to get his leg healed with magic, so he's had a bit of a... erm, handicap the past few weeks. And since he hasn't been able to do his job to it's full extent, you'll be helping that problem. Oh yes, and no magic," She finished, standing up. The two groaned.

"But it will be so difficult without magic... not to mention how long it'll take!" Ron protested.

"Well, this is detention, so I hope you weren't expecting to enjoy yourselves. You should know that by now, Weasley," She replied stiffly. "This way, now." She strode past them and toward the door. The two got up and followed her, having to jog slightly to keep up with her long, quick steps.

"I thought the House Elves did most of the cleaning," Ron said as they were led to another part of the school.

"The House Elves are instructed to keep to the common rooms, dormitories, classrooms, the Great Hall, and the kitchens. Filch has always taken care of the halls, the Quiddich Pitch, the outer walls, and all the supplies," Professor McGonagall explained in a matter-of-fact way.

"Oh..."

"What are we doing tonight, Professor?" Harry asked.

"Some students thought it funny to set off a dozen dung bombs in a hallway down by Filch's office. So, you'll be cleaning that up tonight. But Weasley here will be join Filch and me for the next six days after that. We have plenty of cleaning jobs for you, don't worry."

"I wasn't..." Ron muttered miserably. As the drew nearer to Filch's office, Ron finally caught a whiff of the smell. It was so unbearable that he pinch his nose between his thumb and index finger in a flash. Harry had done the same. Even though the two had dropped a few in their lives at Hogwarts, it was never this bad. That must have been more than a dozen dung bombs, that was for sure.

"Good evening Professor," Filch greeted them at his office door. He had what seemed to be a clothespin pinching his nose shut, making his voice sound high and nasally.

"Argus," McGonagall replied, nodding her head. "They are in your hands now," She said, prodding Ron and Harry in the back.

"Thrilled, I assure you," He said flatly. He then handed them buckets of water and rags.

"It looks like you have things under control Argus, if you'll excuse me, I have a lot of paperwork to do," McGonagall spoke again.

"Yes, of course."

"I'll be off then," She excused herself, turned around, and made her way back to her office. Once McGonagall was out of sight, Filch turned around, smiling sinisterly. Mrs. Norris was at his feet, looking at them with her huge, lamp-like eyes.

"Get to work!" He barked, pointing at the hall's floor and walls. "I want this hallway to shine!" He threw an assortment of cleaner fluids that would help the smell at them. Then he limped away, crutches creaking, into his office. Mrs. Norris, however, stayed at the door, watching them.

"Great, don't even have any bloody clothes pins to put on our noses," Ron muttered, grabbing a rag, bucket, and a bottle of cleaning fluid. "And have to resort to Muggle cleaning... load of bull..." Harry didn't say anything, grabbing his supplies as well. Ron took one side of the hall, Harry the other, cleaning off their separate walls. Minutes went by and nothing was said. Ron just scrubbed furiously at a clump of dung on the wall. Harry's hopes of a conversation fell, he had been hoping Ron would suck it up and just apologize during their detention. Looks like he had been wrong. But he should have known better, he knew how stubborn Ron was.

Growing bored of the dung, Harry tried to take his mind off it. He remembered an American show he had seen Dudley watching during the summer, he had actually kind of liked it. But he had to watch it from the hallway, since Dudley wouldn't let him be in the same room as him. Without really realizing it, he started to sing the theme song, "When there's trouble, you know who to call... Teen Titans! From their tower they can see it all... Teen Titans! When there's evil on the attack, you can rest knowing they've got your back. 'Cause when the world needs heros on patrol... Teen Titans, go!" He sang to himself. He heard Ron stop scrubbing.

"What the hell are you singing?" Ron said, looking at Harry like he had gone mad. Harry blushed a little, not knowing he had just sang that out loud.

"Oh, um... it's a theme song from some show my cousin had been watching over the summer."

"Oh..." Ron let out, acting like he knew what Harry was talking about, which he didn't.

"Yeah." Another few minutes of just scrubbing. "Hey, Ron?"

"Huh?"

"Remember when we got detention in second year for flying to school in your dad's car?" Harry tried at a conversation.

"Er... yeah?"

"And you were stuck polishing all the trophies... and you were still chucking slugs?"

"Yeah, thanks for the great flash-back. Is there a reason why you are reminding me of some of my worst memories?" Ron asked coldly. Harry flushed again, realizing that he didn't have a point. Damn, this isn't going good... He thought to himself.

"Sorry," He mumbled. Ron just grunted. More scrub-filled minutes.

"Why are you talking to me?" Ron asked.

"Because I honestly don't want us to be fighting over a relationship between me and Hermione that never existed."

"Liar..." Ron said quietly.

"What?" Harry looked at him.

"Nothing." Ron scrubbed the wall harder, making his knuckles ache. He was trying to push all the things he'd like to say out of his head. But why should he? Was he afraid of getting on Harry's bad side? Hmm... let's just see... He thought and took a sideways glance at Harry. He cleared his throat. "Liar," He repeated, a lot clearer this time. Harry let his rag drop out of his hand and he stood up. Ron looked up at him.

"You know what, Ron?" Harry grabbed his water bucket. "I'm getting sick of this little act that you are pulling." Before Ron could react, he had overturned his bucket right onto Ron's head. Ron gasped as the cold water splashed over his head. He shot up and pushed Harry against the wall. Harry looked like he was about to bust his gut with how hard he was laughing. But staring into Harry's laughing face made him realize something, that this was completely idiotic. And because of that, he began to laugh too, which got a look of surprise out of Harry.

"Psycho," Harry shook his head. Then Ron suddenly stopped laughing and looked Harry square in the eyes.

"I'm still holding it against you that you are going out with Hermione."

Author's Note: Ha, I'm always able to fit something about Teen Titans in a Harry Potter story, and fit something about Harry Potter in a Teen Titans story. I don't know why. Habit, I guess.
Anyway, hope you liked the chapter and I'd appreciate it if you'd leave me a review.
And keep on the lookout, I have more chapters coming soon... even some new stories! Thanks for reading.

-Claire