Hit Me 'Mione One More Time

POAS

The Golden Quad went their separate ways as they still had to go to class, even though they had just killed Voldemort and were expected to be able to balance school work with this musical, which so far lacked a name. Harry sat down in his usual seat in Potions next to Ron, he honestly didn't expect Snape to act any differently toward the once Golden Trio, though he still favored Draco more. Only Dumbledore knew why. The young scarred wizard sighed. If only he had the chance to talk to Dumbledore. It seemed that every father figure in his life was killed off by those damn Death Eaters. Imagine his surprise when the ghost of Dumbledore appeared beside him, sitting and bouncing like a giddy kid high on Pixy Stix. Dumbledore looked to Harry with a twinkle in his eye.

"Hello," he said happily.

"DUMBLEDORE!" Harry squealed.

From somewhere toward the front of the room, the class heard Snape's muffled yell of "OH FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN!" to which the class erupted into a fit of mad giggles.

"I stay down here mostly," Dumbledore grinned, "bothering Severus and what not. It's quite fun. You should try it."

"NO HE SHOULDN'T!" Snape yelled again from some unseen corner.

Dumbledore simply chuckled at Harry's grin of surprise, with a mixture of happiness, spread across his youthful face. So, Dumbledore was technically dead, but he was still there. Kind of. And right now, he needed advice on what to name the musical. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled again knowingly.

"Put the word Muggle into the title for sure," Dumbledore said before disappearing.

"'Kay," Harry said absently.

"Muggle Martini," Ron said softly, but clearly.

"Muggle Remix?" Harry asked.

"Mixed Muggles?"

Professor Snape walked to the front of his classroom, picking lint from his robes, and then proceeded to command the class to make some sort of Ghost Begone potion. With a flick of his wand, the instructions were posted. While mixing their potion, Harry and Ron continued to shoot out ideas.

"Remixed Muggles?" Harry muttered softly.

"Muggles Gone Wild?" Ron suggested.

"How about 'Make the Potion!'" Snape suggested loudly from behind the two.

They jumped, effectively bumping their heads together. As they rubbed their heads, Harry came up with an idea. And a good one at that.

Hermione stared at the board absently, waiting for their snarky, greasy, stupid-headed Professor to hurry up and start class. She stared at the back of Draco's head. For a boy who just lost his father he was in good spirits. She supposed it was because he never really liked his father. Or maybe because he wasn't going to Azkaban for killing him. Whatever the case, he was very sexy when he smiled. She sighed softly, that soft little sigh of "oh I wish I had him as my secret lover". She was snapped from her reverie when she heard Harry scream: "DUMBLEDORE!". To which Snape screamed "OH FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN" from somewhere beyond the classroom. Turning her attentions back to Draco's head, she was surprised to meet eyes with the Slytherin wonder. He smiled at her and she smiled back. At least they were friends, somewhat, especially since they had to work together now. On a musical. With no name.

"Put the word Muggle into the title for sure," she heard Dumbledore suggest.

She heard Ron and Harry say ideas out loud before Snape reprimanded them and told them to just make the potion. She quietly worked on her potion as she thought of ideas for the title of the musical. But none came. She noted this with a bit of sadness. But shrugged it off. Ever the Gryffindor.

The sneaky, sexy, Slytherin blonde boy assumed Sex God, mulled silently over the day's events. One, they killed Voldemort. Two, his father died (whoot whoot). Three, Snape helped and then scooped up the Dark Lord. Four, Dumbledore's ghost appeared out of nowhere with those damn twinkling eyes. Five, he was hungry. Six, he had been enlisted to do a musical written by Harry Potter. Seven, Hermione kept staring at him. Eight, his potion smelled funny. Nine, he had to pee real bad. Ten, Weasel got hit in the face with a brick. Twice. He grinned at the last number on his list. Now he mulled over what music Harry would choose. Please, none of that teenybopper bitch, or any form of pop, and no corny songs. The songs had to be emotional but fit with what was happening in the scene presented to the school. Were they going to have auditions for more actors? Who was going to have a lead role? Why the hell did he have to pee so bad? All these questions whirled around in Draco's skull. Oh Merlin, was he going to have to dance?

He heard Weasley squeal and snapped his head in the direction of the Gryffindors.

Ronald Weasley was dancing around like a man on fire holding his foot. Though he looked upset, the grin on his face told the room he was happy about something. He just wished Hermione would never hit him with a brick again. What, did she have some sort of brick fetish like the Dark Lord?

"I never want to hear you suggest that again," she hissed lowly.

"But Hermione," Harry stifled a laugh, "she's not that bad!"

"Do you want a brick too?"

Harry held up his hands in defeat.

"Okay, okay. No Brittany Spears!" Ron laughed heartily, dropping his foot to the ground.

Harry grabbed his wand from his pocket and pretended it was a microphone. He then proceeded to let the world know just what he was thinking.

"Hit Ron, 'Mione, one more time!" he sang jokingly.

For the third time that day, someone got hit in the face with a brick.