A/N: Oh, I think this is my favorite chapter in this story yet!

X

XIX

XIXIX "One Terrible Morning" XIXIX

Draco was in no mood for Blaise's irritating face that morning. He had hardly slept the night before and had to wade through the almost overwhelming fear that he would wind up trying to hump McGonagall's leg, in order to prepare himself for the weekend's job fair. The last thing he wanted was his best friend to hang around him, urging him on, touching him inappropriately, and in all other ways being the biggest sodding insult to injury in Draco's already terrible morning.

He was ready to snap, and in fact was getting ready to hex his complete arsehole of a friend into oblivion for continuing to pressure Draco into eating and drinking the breakfast that he had also insisted on serving Draco, when the doors to the Great Hall slammed open, and Draco was reminded that there were people on Earth, and even at this school, that he currently hated more than his best friend.

XIXIX

Harry didn't want to be rude. Really, he didn't. But he was becoming more pissed off by the second with Colin's constant chattering. He had appeared at Harry's dorm room door with flowers the moment Harry was out of bed, and had not left him alone since. He kept going on and on about how he was the wizarding world's best photographer, and probably already had a job lined up at the Quibbler, since the Lovegoods had long since recognized his amazing talent. He was acting like Harry was a Veela, for Merlin's sake, and it was really fucking annoying.

Colin was trying to woo him. He was honest-to-goodness trying to impress Harry into bedding him. Mind you, this sort of thing happened all the time with people who didn't know Harry so well, but Colin? Colin had never tried anything of the sort with Harry. He had always been overly friendly and cheerful, but he never actually hit on Harry.

It was weird and unsettling and Harry didn't want any part of it. He wouldn't want any part of it even at the best of times, but at the current moment, he was quite sure that his life was in fact worse than it had been when he had been battling Voldemort. Luna would never want him. He kept wanting to shag the most horrific people. He had hardly slept the previous night. He had a sodding job fair to prepare for. And Colin Creevey was trying to woo him.

'This morning could not be more terrible,' he thought to himself as he slammed his way into the Great Hall. But then he saw Draco Malfoy glaring at him across the room. That specific glare on his face usually meant trouble. And Harry realized that things probably could, in fact, get worse.

XIXIX

Colin wasn't having that hot of a morning either. That kiss last night had been magic. It had been inspiration. It had been divine. There was no way around it—this was love. He had originally believed that "aphrodisiac" story that Harry had given him, but then Colin got to thinking. He had taken aphrodisiacs before. Kisses under their influence were sloppy and needy, and unless Harry was just one hell of a kisser, there was no way that he had simply kissed Colin due to the lingering effects of a potion.

No way.

Which meant that, beyond all hope he ever thought he could even dream of having, Colin Creevey had a chance with Harry Potter.

Except that Harry kept pretending like it hadn't been magic, which was really confusing if you thought about it. He was pretending the same casual annoyance that Colin had always detected. So once they were in the Great Hall, Colin had separated from his love in order to sit in his usual spot and brood. He had a lot to figure out.

Harry had said he was with someone, but that couldn't really be true. The whole school knew he was mad-crazy in love with Luna 'the Lesbian' Lovegood. So either he had just made up this person in order to continue denying the truth of his connection with Colin, or else, this person did really exist. In which case this person was coming between Harry and Colin. In which case Colin had to get this person out of the way.

He stared sulking over at Harry who sat in his usual spot next to Ginny, who, Colin noted with a twinge of jealousy, could act so casual with him. She would just reach over in front of his plate like it was no big deal. They were so comfortable together. They were clearly good friends. But not good friends like Harry was good friends with Ron and Hermione. Ginny was good friends with him in a way that was… more open to, say, a little behind-the-back scheming. Ginny might even know who this person was that Colin needed to get rid of.

XIXIX

"He made out with you?!" hissed Ginny.

She and Colin were locked in a broom closet three halls away from the Great Hall. Colin had told her it was important, but Ginny never would have imagined this.

"Yeah," said Colin breathlessly. "And it was so romantic too. I had just rescued him from dire straights with Filch, and then we were sitting at a window with the night at our backs… and then, he kissed me."

"He kissed you?!"

Colin grinned up at her and Ginny had to look away while she did some fast thinking. It had to be the love potion. It just had to be. Harry would never in a million years kiss Colin Creevey. Ever. Ever, ever, ever. Ever.

Ginny ran her hands through her hair distractedly, looking everywhere around the room except into Colin's eyes. If the love potion had made Harry make out with this little squirt, then there was no way that it was doing to Harry what Fred and George had said it would do to him. Which would be consistent with every other prank that Fred and George had ever played in their lives. Which meant that this might wind up being even funnier than she had originally hoped.

She turned back to Colin. "Tell me everything," she commanded, and he did. Ginny listened very carefully, trying to figure out what was happening to her friend thanks to… whatever it was… that she was currently spiking his food with. It was clearly something sexual, but probably not amorous, despite Colin's describing the incident as the most romantic moment of his life. It really didn't seem that way to Ginny.

But Harry wasn't even that fond of Colin, much less in love with him, so the potion must either make him horny, which would be funny, or make him horny for people he didn't like, which would be even funnier. Fred and George were clever blokes. It had to be the latter.

She stifled an evil grin while she listened to Colin drone on about how he had to win Harry's heart and convince him that it was okay to give love a try. Colin was sweet, but his involvement in this whole plot was simply not funny enough to be worth her time. She had to get rid of him so that she could think bigger.

"I'm sorry, Colin, but I'm afraid Harry wasn't lying to you."

Colin's face fell. "Wh… what do you mean?" he quivered.

"He has been seeing someone. I don't know who it is, but I have a feeling it is someone no one would ever expect. And the fact that he's kept it a secret, even from close friends, says to me that he is really attached to this person." She patted him on the shoulder compassionately. "I'm sure it's nothing personal," she added. "Harry would have been lucky to have you. He just found someone else first."

Colin looked like he might start crying, so Ginny checked her watch. "Oh, would you look at the time!" she gasped. "I've really got to go."

And she rushed out to do a few experiments on this powder she had, to figure out what exactly it was made of, and how she might use it to her advantage.

Behind her, Colin sat and thought about this mysterious person who was trying to steal Harry from him. He had to find out who it was. But how would one go about discovering Harry Potter's secrets? Harry was about as guarded as they came.

And then Colin had an idea…

XIXIX

The job fair was held outside on Hogwarts' grounds. There were tents and booths from the Forbidden Forest, to the Lake, to the Quidditch Pitch, to the Castle. Inquiring students would go to areas of interest and see what each job had to offer. They would then show prospective employers what they had to offer in return.

The grounds were alive with competitive magic. Every seventh-year student outside was bent on showing that they were the absolute best in each field of magic. At Madam Malkin's tent, a Ravenclaw witch named Suji clawed her way viciously past a dozen other fabric-art toting students to display a quilt she had spent months carefully stitching together. At the Gringotts' tent, students were hurling accounting charms like Dark Wizards hurled Unforgivables. Harry passed one tent that seemed to be housing a very heated bake-off. Beaubaton was interviewing for a new Divination Professor, and Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were engaged in a dangerous prophetic duel, screaming out the gruesome means by which various people would die, in a manner that would make Trelawney proud.

But Harry headed past all of this, making a beeline for the Aurors' tent where a dozen or more hopefuls tried to hex each other into oblivion. Harry looked around at the tables that were set out, and took a few pamphlets that interested him, including Auror Basics—Fewer of Us Die on Duty Than You Would Think and Become an Auror—Everything Else is Lame. There were also a few pamphlets that mentioned his name specifically (Aurors: Killing Dark Wizards in the Grand Tradition of Harry Potter and Harry Potter, Read This Pamphlet and Become an Auror. Now!), which made Harry feel a little awkward, but also allayed his fears that he would have trouble becoming an Auror with his Potions marks as low as they were.

Harry dueled with a few of the other Auror candidates, and then chatted with some of the recruiting Aurors, who kept offering him contracts. He decided to take the offer with him to think about while he checked out the rest of the job fair. There were still a few other careers that he thought he might be interested in, and he didn't want to rush into anything.

"Oh, come now!" said the Auror recruiter happily. He was a middle-aged man with a mohawk who had spent much of his career gathering intelligence in the underground punk wizarding society. 'Anarchists,' he had said, 'The lot of them.' Now he patted Harry on the back in a friendly way and gushed, "Surely Harry Potter isn't going to accept a contract in another field. Why, look at these headlines!" He pulled out a stack of old newspapers. "You're obviously meant to become an Auror!"

He slapped the newspapers into Harry's hands, and Harry stood quivering as he looked at the picture on the front cover. It was Voldemort, glaring menacingly into the camera with his teeth bared like he was a rabid animal. The Dark Lord had granted an interview just a few weeks before his death, where he plainly stated that he meant to kill Harry Potter within the next month. You-Know-Who To Kill Harry Potter read the headline.

Staring at the picture of his most hated nemesis, Harry thought of two things. He thought of Ginny laughing until she had tears in her eyes when she noticed the piece of spinach stuck in the Dark Lord's teeth, and he thought that he had never before seen anyone as sexy as the spinach-toothed madman snarling at him underneath the headline that threatened his life.

All of the blood in Harry's head emptied straight down into his groin, and he now thought how incredibly thankful he was that he had worn two pair of tidy whities today in case something untoward such as this were to happen. But even with that forethought, standing in the middle of the Auror tent, Harry could have said with utmost truth and sincerity that, even after the past few days he had had, he would never in a million years have expected that a picture of Voldemort, and especially a bad picture of Voldemort, would give Harry a hard-on.

Now met with the situation, Harry did what any reasonable human being would have done. He got the hell out of there.

He shoved the newspapers back into the recruiter's hands and said, "I'll be back tomorrow," and then he took off before anyone could say another word.

He sprinted back to the castle, pausing only briefly when he ran headlong into Snape. Harry looked up at him, eyes wide with fear and arousal, and then bolted.

Snape called out behind him, "Detention, Mr. Potter!" in that erotic voice of his, and Harry waved to show he had heard him.

As he entered the castle, thoughts of the glaring Potions Master filled his head. "That man," Harry whispered to himself, incredulous at the thought, "Is too sexy for his shirt."

So sexy it hurt.

XIXIX

Draco hated everyone.

His mood got worse and worse as the minutes ticked by, as did his unbridled desire to shag everyone that he looked at, only making him hate all of these people more. He really needed to get himself under control before he headed out to the job fair.

With that in mind, he gave Blaise the slip, and wandered through the halls until he found what he was looking for. He began to pace back and forth, his feverish mind focused on one thing, and one thing only. But then—

"Mr. Malfoy, I trust everything is all right?"

Draco stopped dead in his tracks and cringed. This was not at all a good thing. Slowly he turned around to face the source of that question: Albus Dumbledore, the worst and kookiest headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen. 'And,' added Draco mentally, 'The absolute hottest old guy on the face of this Earth.'

"Fine, headmaster," he ground out, his voice noticeably hoarse.

"Might I inquire as to why you are not at the job fair?" Dumbledore stepped forward and placed a concerned hand on Draco's shoulder.

Draco just about came from the contact. He opened his mouth to answer, but a muffled groan escaped instead. He shook his head.

"Draco," the headmaster peered over his half-moon spectacles, "Is there something I can help you with?"

Draco was too far gone at that point. He really couldn't help himself. He smirked at the mental image that that question produced. If Dumbledore had any idea what he was thinking…

'Hmm,' thought Draco as his devious side took over without consulting the rest of him, since his logic was currently overcome with a highly inappropriate arousal. 'This might be fun.'

With his very best bedroom eyes in place, Draco made eye contact with the headmaster and whispered throatily, "I don't know, headmaster. Is there something you would like to help me with?"

Dumbledore met his gaze with compassionate eyes, but they quickly widened in shock. He went stiff all over, his hand frozen one inch above Draco's shoulder where he had been patting it. Draco took a small step forward and gave Dumbledore his most wicked grin, allowing all of his inexplicable sexual tension to focus on the man in front of him.

And you should have seen the look on Dumbledore's face!

His mouth gaped open and he began to babble, finally stuttering out, "Carry on, then," before hurrying away down the hall. It was quite possibly the funniest thing Draco had ever seen, but as he turned back to his task of pacing, Draco was caught between feeling triumphant over his accomplishment of making Dumbledore babble, and feeling disgusted with what he had done in order to achieve it.

'I really did just proposition Dumbledore, didn't I?' he thought, shocked that even he would go to such means to achieve his ends. But then he shrugged. 'Oh well.' He looked up at the door that appeared next to him. 'I have other things to take care of right now.'

He opened the door and slid inside, happy to see that the Room of Requirement had furnished the inside of the door with two dozen locks that immediately fastened themselves, thus giving Draco the security he required for the fun he was about to have. He turned around and sighed in defeat. While pacing, he had focused solely on somewhere where, and someone with whom, he could safely have all sorts of wild sex. And who did he find sprawled across the luxury bed (that was remarkably similar to the bed featured in that high-class orgy porn that he had), but Harry Potter.

Draco grumbled to himself, realizing that the Room of Requirement must have tapped into his recent abnormal fantasies. He was highly disappointed with this turn of events, until he considered other alternatives that the Room of Requirement might have furnished for him. 'At least he's cute,' thought Draco. He shrugged and made his way to the bed in great haste, shedding his robes, and whipping his shirt over his head.

Potter sat up and regarded him with intense eyes. "So, Malfoy," he began, but Draco cut him off, climbing into bed and putting his hand over Potter's mouth.

"Don't talk," he ordered. He waited until Potter nodded before he removed his hand, and then very greedily caught his mouth up in a heated kiss. He pushed Potter backward, pinning him down on the bed, enjoying the dominant role he was taking over this, his most hated schoolmate.

He pulled back to pull Potter's shirt over his head, revealing that chest he had seen one hot day last year when spying on the Gryffindors' Quidditch practice. He hated Potter for having such a nice body, for being so bloody hot while at the same time being such a bloody prick. Touching this body didn't relieve any of that hate—it only made Draco hate him more, knowing they would never actually be like this together. And the more he burned with hatred, the more he seethed with arousal.

'I'm not making love to this arsehole,' he thought while kicking his shoes off and undoing his belt. He shoved down his pants and looked over to see Potter doing the same. 'Nice,' he thought, checking out the body he was about to enjoy, rage and sexuality coursing through his veins.

They were both naked now, and clawing at each other hungrily. Draco moaned at the skin on skin contact. He thrust into him, their erections rubbing together, biting and kissing and sucking, leaving painful-looking welts on Potter's neck.

'Damn, does it have to be you?' he thought. 'Is this really required?'

"Turn over," he commanded, gripping Potter roughly and flipping him onto his stomach himself. "Where—?" he looked up and saw a jar of lubrication potion resting on a shelf above the headboard. He grabbed at it and helped himself to a generous portion, prepping himself and Potter, pulling the Gryffindor up on all fours.

'Oh Merlin, he's so tight,' he thought, groaning. 'Of course, our dear virginal Potter would be.' Draco glared at his conquest with disdain. His heart was hammering in his chest with the expectation of what he was about to do.

He leaned his chest over Potter's back, his erection pushing at the entrance. "Just to be clear," he whispered into Potter's ear, "I'm not making love to you. This is called fucking." He pushed himself in with one hard thrust and yawped at the sensation. "Oh gods," he cried, slamming into him again. "I'm gonna fuck you until you're screaming for mercy."

And he did.

XIXIX

Meanwhile, up in Gryffindor Tower, Harry was not having nearly as much fun. He had run into Colin Creevey on the way up to his dorm, and had had a little difficulty convincing him that he would, indeed, hex him if he followed Harry to his dorm, since Harry had something very important to attend to. Then, once he had made it to his dorm and had begun to attend to this 'something very important,' he couldn't stop thinking about Malfoy.

Malfoy of all people! Okay, granted, he was a much more attractive fantasy than certain others that Harry had been lusting after lately… but this was Malfoy! Harry couldn't possibly think of Malfoy while 'attending to something very impor'… while jacking off. It just wasn't right. It was wrong on so many levels, that Harry could barely list them all before he was cross-eyed and shivering, twice, behind the curtains of his four-poster.

He cleaned up his spent seed with a quick charm, and lay on his bed, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with him, heavy with the knowledge that he had just masturbated while thinking of quite possibly the biggest prick he had ever met. Cute, sure, but that didn't make it okay.

Or did it?

After all, masturbation fantasies were all about sex. They didn't have anything to do with love, or even like. It was just sex. And not even real sex. It was imagined sex. And Harry could have imagined sex with whomever he damn well pleased.

Right?

His mind made up about that, he decided to see if he had taken care of himself enough so that he could rejoin the job fair. There was only one way to find out, so Harry pulled himself together, straightened his clothes, quickly gave up on straightening his hair, and strode purposefully to his dorm room door. For one brief instant, as he took down all the locking charms he had placed on it for security purposes, he feared that he might find Colin waiting on the other side, but as the door swung open, he realized that his fears had been completely unfounded. Because Colin was not waiting outside his door.

Instead, a large blue egg was waiting outside his door.

Now, Harry had long since given up on being surprised at new things the wizarding world had to offer, because every day seemed to offer something new. So he was actually very calm with his curiosity as he stared at the three-foot-tall, two-foot-wide egg that sat quite straight with no visible means of balance, blocking his entrance to the stairwell. He leaned down to read the small card stuck to the top.

"Congratulations Harry Potter," he read. "It's a boy."

Harry stood bolt upright and stepped away from the egg in alarm. He had never heard anyone mention the possibility that witches and wizards were hatched instead of born, but that wasn't necessarily to say that Harry hadn't somehow become a father through a bizarre set of magical coincidences or something. And he was most definitely not ready to be a father.

But as the seconds ticked by and Harry regarded the egg, his panic and alarm began to subside. After all, there were plenty of muggle-born witches and wizards, and muggles would definitely notice that something was up if every now and again they laid an egg instead of giving birth to a baby. No, no, that would be ridiculous.

This was probably a pet. Someone had given him a pet, and it was going to hatch out of a very large egg, and then Harry would have some adorable and cuddly little critter to play with. That was it. A pet.

Harry walked over to the egg and carefully picked it up, bringing it into his dorm room. He closed the door behind him and sat cross-legged on the floor, staring at the egg and wondering what was inside. He had only just considered the possibility that Hagrid had sent him some sort of monster pup when the egg began to twitch and crack.

XIXIX

Ginny was pretty sure that she was safe with her involvement in this plot.

Snape was busy with the job fair this weekend, so Ginny had taken it upon herself to break into the Potions Lab and start performing some exploratory tests on this powder her brothers had given her. She had to admit she was quite impressed with what the twins had created.

If she was right, it caused the victim to fall head over heals in lust with the people they hate the most. It would cause a burgeoning of attraction to people they disliked. But, and by far best of all, there was a cloaking spell on the powder itself so that the victim would never consider on their own that the powder, or anything magical for that matter, was the cause of their feelings!

Oh, it was precious! Ginny could probably show Harry that she was putting something in his food, and so long as she gave a plausible reason for it that had nothing to do with his lust for those he hated, he would never suspect a thing!!! Her brothers were geniuses.

The problem was that she didn't want to let on to the twins that she had figured out the real effect of the powder, which meant that she couldn't discuss it with them at all. She knew it was possible that they had found a way to spike Draco Malfoy's food supply too (although short of creating bogus black-mail material for one of his friends, she had no clue how they would, since the Slytherins were a particularly difficult group to infiltrate). However, she didn't know for sure that they had, and she couldn't ask… so… she would just have to do it on her own.

Because Harry making out with Colin... that was an interesting result of a prank. But Harry making out with Draco Malfoy? Now that was prize money!

And the beautiful, hilarious irony of it all was that she was going to need Harry's help, in order to prank Harry. Oh, how she loved being mischievous!

She did a quick once-over on the Potions Lab to make sure that no evidence of her presence was left behind, and took off at a run for Gryffindor Tower.

XIXIX

The hatching process took less than five minutes. Harry watch in awe as the miracle of life took place, quietly praying that it was something cute and cuddly from someone who was not Hagrid. Hagrid meant well, but um, well… his idea of cute and cuddly tended to maim.

A hole opened up at the top of the twitching egg, and Harry could see a mop of black fur sticking out the top. He scooted forward and carefully touched the fur, which actually seemed more like hair when he got a better look at it. The egg twitched again, and another small piece caved in. Harry leaned in to peer into the hole, but then his dorm room door slammed open and he jumped away in a fright.

"Harry, I need your…" Ginny bounded into the room but then froze in her tracks, staring down at Harry and the egg. "Oh gods, Harry!" she said in a warning tone. "Don't touch it!"

"What?"

"Don't touch the egg. At all. It'll imprint itself onto you if any of your skin touches the shell." She looked down into Harry's now widening eyes and groaned, "Oh, Harry, you touched it already, didn't you?!"

The egg twitched and cracked again, but Harry scooted away now, his panic rising once again. "Ginny," he said seriously, "Tell me right now if this is a really terrible thing." He stood up to look her in the eye.

Ginny looked at him sadly and said, "Not terrible, Harry. Just really bloody annoying."

They both turned back to see the egg completely come apart as small arms and legs stretched themselves, pushing for freedom. Harry's mouth fell open and he gaped at the little naked human on his floor.

"Oh holy hell," he gasped. "Wizards really do hatch, then, don't they?" He turned to Ginny and asked in a voice that cracked, "Ginny, am I a father?"

Ginny turned from the hatchling to look at Harry's alarmed face, and immediately fell into a fit of laughing that kept her unable to answer for several moments. "Ha—Harry—oh my… you…" She slapped him on the shoulder, doubling over to guffaw loudly.

Harry turned away from his very obnoxious friend and stared wide-eyed at the naked child that had hatched from the blue egg. It was a boy, all right. It looked confused and awkward, and about five years old. 'But even if we do hatch' thought Harry, 'wouldn't we start out as babies?'

Finally, Ginny righted herself enough to answer, "Harry, don't be daft. Wizards don't hatch from eggs!" She was really trying very hard not to laugh, but Harry was not in the mood to give her credit for such things at the moment. "Not real wizards at any rate. This, Harry," she said, indicating the child, "Is—"

The child looked up at Harry suddenly and yelled at the top of his lung, "HARRY!" He ran forward and wrapped his tiny arms around Harry's legs and squealed happily, "I'm your new brother!"

"Your new brother," finished Ginny, looking down with exasperation. "And you will very quickly grow to hate this cretin. Man, did I teach you nothing?! Why the hell did you touch that egg? You obviously didn't know what it was!"

Harry shrugged and looked down helplessly. The naked five-year-old looked up at him with a huge grin. He looked unsettlingly like Harry with his small bone structure and untidy mess of hair. In fact—Harry knelt down to make sure—he had a lightening bolt scar on his forehead. Harry looked up at Ginny. "Why does he have…?"

"Because you touched the egg," explained Ginny knowledgably. "It imprinted itself onto you, so now you have a little brother. It will follow you around, mess with your things, discover all of your secrets, and reveal them at the most embarrassing of times. There is a specific secret encoded into it, and it will find out the truth, and then it will tell the whole world. After that, its job is done and a self-destruct sequence will begin."

Harry turned back to the miniature version of himself, which smiled impishly, and then began relieving itself onto Harry's clothing. Harry jumped back from the child in disgust. He cast a quick cleansing charm that got rid of the urine, but not the smell.

"Oh, and you have to teach it basic manners, discipline and such," added Ginny, "Or else it will go around doing things like that."

"But I don't know how—" began Harry.

"You've got to learn," said Ginny matter-of-factly. "This is your own fault, you know. You never should have touched the egg."

"So you keep telling me," muttered Harry.

The child ran over to Harry's trunk and pried it open with amazing strength for such a little guy, and began rummaging through Harry's things. Ginny nudged Harry in the side and Harry stepped forward, grabbing the child's arm. "No," he said. "Don't do that."

The child looked up and pouted, "But I wanna!"

"No," replied Harry firmly. "If I catch you doing that again, you'll have to go into Time Out."

The child sat down on the floor and began to cry. Harry knelt down next to it, at a complete loss. "Oh, don't cry," he pleaded. "I didn't mean to yell, I—"

Ginny grabbed Harry's arm and hoisted him up. She leaned over and murmured, "Never, never, apologize after you discipline him, or else he won't follow your instructions. And also, he'll act like a regular child in a lot of ways. You have to be very specific with your instructions. Sometimes he'll ignore them completely, but sometimes he'll catch you up in a technicality—anything to avoid Time Out."

"Oh Merlin, Ginny. Isn't there anything I can do to get rid of him?"

Ginny shook her head. "He's programmed to find a certain secret, and he'll wreak havoc on your life until he does. Good luck!" she sang.

She began to move toward the door, but Harry grabbed her. "Please don't leave me alone," he begged. "I don't know anything about kids!"

Ginny shrugged. "It's not a real kid. Oh, I almost forgot! Can I borrow your invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map?"

Harry gaped at her, stunned that she could be so blasé about this turn of events in his life. He felt like ranting that he had thought they were friends, or some similarly self-pitying argument, but then a small Harry Potter was standing in between them, holding up the invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map.

"Oh, thank you," said Ginny sweetly as she grabbed the goods.

"I told you to stay out of my trunk," snapped Harry. "Go to Time Out!" He pointed at the corner, but the child shook his head resolutely.

"You said that if you catch me in your trunk I'll have Time Out, but you didn't catch me!"

Harry gaped.

Ginny grinned.

"Very specific," she whispered, and then turned on her heel and slipped out of the room.

XIXIX

XIX

X

A/N: Ooh! I syked you out with that sex scene, didn't I?! You so thought that I was going to reveal that it really was Harry, didn't you?! Who da man?! Yeah!

Suji's quilt is courtesy of my roommate Suji. Harry's little brother hatchling is courtesy of my roommate Daena. Anyone have any suggestions or requests for the next chapter?

And also, here's a small reader's contest: Name Harry's little brother!

Peace,

Kati