Disclaimer: Don't own it.
A/N: Full of crackalicious fun.XD
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"Uh…Hi Hermione," Harry tried to say cheerfully. It was a half-hearted attempt at ignoring the position he and Draco were in; after all, who could really ignore the two of them when they were so tangled up you couldn't tell where Harry ended and Draco began.
Fortunately, Hermione's had a lot of experience in these things.
"Harry, how did you two end up like this?"
Or not.
"It was the bloody season thing, that's what!" Draco half-snarled. He looked almost ready to kill.
Hermione didn't blink an eye, though inwardly she was laughing. Long and hard, with a lot of pointing at an imaginary Malfoy. Quite a lot of pointing, in fact, but she chose not to mention it.
She sighed instead. "So you've asked Harry yet another pointless question, haven't you?"
Harry looked surprised, and he momentarily stopped trying to untangle his limbs from Draco's. "How'd you know?"
Hermione snorted. "Every time he asks you, you try to avoid it with something completely random, and you two end up doing this. Or any other variations of it."
"Ha! Told you, Potter, you really are predictable."
"And what's that say for you?" Harry scowled darkly at Hermione. She shrugged helplessly in response.
"Anyway, you two have been doing this routinely for ages, and Ron and I always end up having to resolve it. And will you—just—stop—" she struggled to get in between the two warring boys, who were now starting to throw the various throw pillows in the library at each other. Quite a lot of the pillows missed and hit books instead. Ron was not going to be happy, and Hermione would normally have been furious, but she'd had them insured by a very useful new company she'd found (that incident, involving a disgruntled Ron, an amused Harry, and a squealing Hermione, is best not mentioned).
"Take this, Potter!" Draco yelled gleefully. The pillow he was wielding promptly smacked Harry in the face with a loud thwack, and there was silence in the room as the two stared at him in slight bemusement.
"Uh…Harry?" Hermione said.
"EURGH!"
Harry came out roaring, glasses askew and hair sticking up in every direction. "This," he ground out, "is war."
"Bring it on, four eyes," Draco taunted. Harry answered him with a pillow on his neatly combed blond head, mussing it up in every way possible.
Predictably, this particular move was not well received. The look in Draco's eyes would have been enough to send Voldemort running.
"You do not mess with the hair, POTTER!"
He was practically spitting at this point, and was grabbing every pillow he could get a hold of; Harry was doing the same. Poised for battle, the boys circled each other, eyes never leaving their faces.
Hermione then decided to find a nice, hidden, spot in the library, from which she could watch the spectacle safely. Luckily, this kind of thing happened relatively often, and it had given her experience in finding good spots. She chose a big, squishy armchair in the corner of the other side of the library, a bookcase partially hiding her from view.
She picked out a book, took off her shoes, and settled down to watch.
Smirking, she turned to the first page. This was going to be fun.
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