Musical Interlude
Disclaimer: The writers of the three songs used are lost to the mists of time. The characters however are the sole possession of Miss Rowling. Thank you, curtain rises
"6,666 green bottles hanging on the wall,
6,666 green bottles hanging on the wall.
And if one green bottle should accidentally fall,
There'll be 6,665 green bottles hanging on the wall."
Draco Malfoy's nails were encrusted with slime and dirt despite his attempts to turn a deceased rat into an impromptu manicure set. He politely inclined his head towards a passing beetle, "Would you care for a scone, Aunt Mabel?"
It raised a miniscule armoured eyebrow and scuttled through the bars.
"I think I'm going mad".
He tried an experimental dribble but could not fight the urge to delicately wipe away the unsightly bodily discharge.
They hadn't even given him a straitjacket in which to manically writhe.
"I'm innocent!" He screamed. How original. With a sigh of complete defeat he sank to the floor and began a somewhat dispirited game of eye spy with his alter ego, Abelard.
"We wish you a merry Christmas,
We wish you a merry Christmas,
We wish you a merry Christmas,
And a happy new year."
I throw a snowball at the carolling first years and fall back onto the meringued ground.
WhybuggerridiculousDracohelphatelustlostDracohowpumpkinsbastardlove.
What the hell do I do? Attempt a gallant rescue cunningly interpreting a packet of spaghetti and a fountain pen? Emigrate? Marry Neville?
I used to be so skilled at apathy.
Someone is standing over me, a silhouette against the soft-hard white of the sky.
"What are you doing Weasley?"
"Making snow angels."
He smiles and lowers himself onto the ground next to me, careful not to touch me. He leans on one elbow and attempts a jaunty smirk.
I fix my eyes on the blank sky.
He bends towards me, I close my eyes so I don't have to see his.
"Ron?"
His lips on mine leave me as cold as the icy wind that ruffles my hair.
"Roses are red
Violets are blue
Sugar is sweet
And so are you."
Hermione sighed as she re-read the singing Valentine Harry had given to her last year. Such quick bright things come to confusion.
"Ready?"
He stood in the doorway wearing the narrow-eyed scowl that had become his trademark.
"Harry are you sure this is really what you want to do?"
"Polyjuice is the only way. Remember how Sirius escaped? Unless of course you'd care to compromise my chance for eternal peace."
Hermione bit her lip tight and slid the watery silver invisibility cloak into her satchel along with the flask of potion. Harry threw her a broomstick, it hit her shins and clattered to the floor. He ignored her wince,
"Let's go."
"Yes, Harry." She said.
The next chapter will once more be scrawled by Scam. I wait with bated breath and buckets of slash with which to purify any excess het that might arise. Remember there are no unwholesome by-products of heterosexuality which could not be destroyed with glitter, some kind of ball, a VERY BIG stadium, dance music and a string of thermonuclear charges.
Jude