Chapter Nine – Title. Wahahahahahaha.

(A/N: Insert witty and interesting author's note here.

By the way, I think my Internet connection is making me type, since it's not working again. Or maybe it's trying to make me go to sleep already, because it's 1:30. Which isn't actually all that late by my standards.

It may only be looking out for my health, which I seriously doubt, but anyway, I think I'd be a lot healthier with lower blood pressure.)

(Later A/N: My blood pressure is increasing at an alarming rate. The only reason we're not using that new Internet router thingy is because it doesn't work with my sister's computer. Theoretically, that could be fixed if my sister would move everything to the new hard disk we bought and then restore it to factory condition, but noooo, she is sitting outside on the couch – and has been for hours – WATCHING TV. WATCHING FREAKING TV.)

Last time…

Transfiguration first, was it…Harry checked his timetable. Yes, it was. Harry yawned, shoved his timetable into his bag, and set off for the Transfiguration classroom.

Trans…figuration…classroom.

That was Harry's interpretation of his current destination by his very sleep-deprived mind. I really should have just slept in, Harry thought, dragging his feet. Or I could have just called in sick.

Aaaaargh, Harry's thoughts continued.

Harry suddenly snapped himself out of it, straightening and getting quite a few odd looks from the people in the corridor. He quickened his pace, determinedly striding to the 'Trans…figuration…classroom'.

He finally made it to the door and leaned heavily on the doorknob, almost falling in as he pushed the door open. He blearily made his way to what he assumed to be his seat and sat down, folding his arms and laying his head down on his desk. Might as well have a bit of a nap, since class hadn't started yet.

'Potter,' said a voice sharply. Harry looked up to find a very disgruntled Malfoy standing beside the desk, arms folded, Crabbe and Goyle behind him. 'You're sitting in my seat.'

'Oh,' said Harry. 'Sorry.' He didn't even have the energy to throw a good comeback at him, or even simply annoy him. He yawned, got up, and moved.

Malfoy looked slightly unnerved for some reason, but he sat down anyway. He yelped, leaping up out of his seat, and picked up a sharp quill from his seat. 'Potter!'

'What?' Harry replied, annoyed. Here he was, just trying to get some before-class sleep, and Malfoy had to keep annoying him. And Harry hadn't even done anything to him yet!

Malfoy glared at him. 'Is this yours?' he asked, showing him the offending quill. Harry peered at it.

'No.'

Malfoy glared even harder. 'There's no use trying to deny it, Potter. You're acting all sleepy and confused and you deliberately sat down in my seat, and planted a quill there, and now you're lying about it! Admit it, Potter, you're out to get me!' he finished triumphantly.

Harry stared, now completely awake. 'You might want to go easy on the italics there, Malfoy.' Malfoy looked quite confused at that. Taking no heed of this, Harry continued, 'Second of all, I'm not out to get you, the government is. It's a conspiracy, don't you understand? Repeat after me, 'It's a conspiracy!' And shout it for better effect.' Harry paused.

Malfoy looked even more confused at this, so Harry shrugged and kept talking. 'Also, you're way too paranoid for your own good. Well,' Harry said thoughtfully, 'maybe not too paranoid for your own good. It is good to be careful. Anyway, you're just way too paranoid. That isn't my quill. Maybe it has a name on it, you should check,' Harry suggested, before attempting to fall back asleep again.

A few short seconds of blissful silence in which Harry almost fell asleep, before…

'It's got your name on it, Potter!'

'What?' Harry jerked up, staring at the quill. 'It has not!'

'It has! Here, look!' Malfoy said confidently, thrusting the quill at him. Harry took it.

There, written plainly in black marker, were the words 'Harry Potter'.

'What?' Harry cried in disbelief, staring at the quill in shock and unaware of the fact that he had gotten up. 'That's not right! That's not my handwriting, and I don't even write my name on my quills!' He briefly wondered why one would go around doing so anyway, because in his opinion, which was very important, at least to him, it would be quite a hassle to go through all of one's quills and write their name on the thin stem (or whatever it was called) on each one.

'You do too!' Malfoy crowed. 'Ha, I've proved it! And you're going to suffer the consequences, Potter!'

'I don't!' Harry protested. 'Here, look at them,' he added, digging through his bag. 'Look!'

Malfoy snorted. 'Right, Potter. Like I'm going to believe you.'

'This is the only quill with my name on it!' Harry yelled, waving the quill-with-his-name-written-on-it-but-not-in-his-handwriting in Malfoy's face. 'All the rest of my quills are unmarked!'

'You could have covered them with a charm!' Malfoy yelled back.

'I don't know any!' Harry was aware they were making quite a bit of noise, but he was more concerned with defending himself in this overdramatic argument.

'How do I know you don't know any!' Malfoy shouted.

'You'll just have to take my word for it then!' Harry said, and sat back down in his seat and took out his books, determined to ignore Malfoy.

Malfoy, however, was not intending to be ignored.

'You're guilty of this, Potter!' he screamed. 'I'll get you back for this – '

'What is going on here?'

Everyone turned to look at the person standing in the doorway, who just so happened to be Professor McGonagall.

'Mr Malfoy, why are you standing?' the professor said sternly, frowning.

'It was Potter, Professor,' Malfoy protested weakly. 'He put a quill on my seat…'

McGonagall held up a hand. 'Well, you can tell me about it after class, Mr Malfoy. Now, if you would kindly seat yourself, we can begin…'

Malfoy reluctantly sat down, grumbling to himself and shooting Harry dark looks as he did so. Harry did his best to steadfastly keep ignoring him.

'Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy, please remain after class,' said McGonagall after she dismissed the rest of the class.

After the others had gone, Harry and Malfoy made their way up to Professor McGonagall's desk, Malfoy still shooting Harry dark looks and Harry now returning them tenfold. Or at least trying to.

'Now, Mr Malfoy,' said Professor McGonagall, finishing her previous task, which was pretending to organise her papers so that she didn't look like she had nothing to do, even if it was only for the short time it took for the two to make their way up to her desk (and Harry decided that maybe movies did have a somewhat more accurate grasp on reality than he had previously thought, as he had noticed that organising their papers was what teachers were always doing when students in trouble were walking up to their desks), 'what was it you were complaining about at the beginning of class?'

Malfoy promptly rushed into an explanation. 'Potter put a quill on my seat, Professor, and he made sure – '

Harry interrupted. 'I did not put a quill on your seat! Professor, he's – '

'Mr Potter, please let Mr Malfoy tell me his side of the story first,' said Professor McGonagall, adjusting her glasses and gazing sternly at Harry. Harry clamped his mouth shut and settled for glaring darkly at Malfoy, promising a slow and painful death.

It didn't seem to work, because Malfoy ploughed on. 'And he made sure he was sitting in my seat first before class so he could put it there without looking suspicious! And then he lied about it when I confronted him about the quill, Professor, and look, it's even got his name on it!' Malfoy said, shooting Harry a triumphant look and giving the professor the offending quill.

McGonagall took it from him and peered at it through her glasses. 'Yes. You are finished, Mr Malfoy?'

'Yes,' said Malfoy, shooting Harry another look that said plainly he was certain he was going to be victorious in this. And, Harry thought with a sinking feeling, he had to agree with him. It didn't look too good for Harry.

Harry gulped and started his tale anyway. 'Professor, I don't know who it was who put the quill on Malfoy's seat, but I'm sure it wasn't me, I was half-asleep, Professor, I could hardly even walk here from the Great Hall, and I don't even write my name on my quills!'

'You were faking!' Malfoy accused.

'Mr Malfoy! Please do not interrupt.' Professor McGonagall glared at him. Malfoy fell into a sulk.

'I have to say, Mr Potter, it does not look too good for you,' said the professor, glancing down at the quill Malfoy had given her. 'This quill does indeed have your name on it.'

'I don't write my name on my quills, Professor, look!' Harry repeated, taking out his quills again.

Professor McGonagall shook her head. 'I'm sorry, Potter, but the evidence seems to be pointing more towards you at the moment. I'm afraid I shall have to assign you a detention for deliberately causing harm with intention.'

Harry closed his eyes and counted to ten. Great, another detention. He was sure Malfoy was inwardly whooping beside him.

'Yes, Professor,' said Harry in a defeated voice.

McGonagall checked her schedule. 'I'm busy all this week, Potter, so I shall have to assign you a detention with someone else. I will inform you of the details by owl. You are both dismissed.'

Harry resisted slamming the door on his way out – he was already in enough trouble, who knows how many points that would have cost, or maybe even another detention – but he did close it sharply, and stormed off feeling slightly proud of himself…though for what, he didn't exactly know.

Surprisingly, Malfoy didn't stop to taunt him some more or make fun of him or anything. He just walked off – probably with a smug smirk on his face, the stupid twat, Harry thought bitterly – possibly back to the common room, or to the next class early.

Harry sighed. Stupid Malfoy. Stupid McGonagall. Stupid detention. I hate everything, Harry thought morosely as he trudged slowly to his next class, which was Herbology.

Herbology was rather uneventful. Nothing unusual or even remotely exciting happened; no accidents, no deliberate damage, no clever ruses to get Professor Sprout not to assign any homework (she didn't anyway)…nothing.

And thus, Harry exited the greenhouses feeling nothing but boredom and the need to take a shower. And it is on this rather mundane note that this chapter ends.

(A/N: Another short chapter, isn't it? I just felt like uploading another one before school really starts. I'm panicking right now, you know. It's normal. It might pass eventually.

Thinking back, I think maybe forty-seven (or however many it was) pieces of toast might be a little excessive. I only had six pieces of bacon and six hash browns, after all… :D

Also, I had lots more things to say, but I've forgotten them all now. And I end this author's note with a plea for reviews – please, it'll make me feel better if I come home from school and turn on the computer to find more reviews. Trust me, they make any author feel loved. :D)

Review responses!

Serpent of Light: Okay, so the first thing I did when I opened up the email from the Review Alert system was 'Omg. Woah.' And I did actually say 'oh em gee', just to let you know. Because that was one heck of a long review.

Trust me, you will never see an author's note yaying about good grades…really. Yes, I do think Ron would do that. House prejudices and all that, yeah. What does (g) mean by the way? I've been seeing that everywhere and I can't figure it out…(stabs) DIE DIE DIE. (cough) Anyway.

I suppose…I do have something else in mind for that scene. But that would mean I have to rewrite future chapters after that too, which is…I just don't care all that much. Maybe I will revise this someday. I know what you mean about the grammar; mine is completely horrible. Especially with sentence fragments, but they sound good, so screw Microsoft Word's grammar checker.

I am SO the Queen of Bad Memory. (dances) Muahahahahahaha. Also of Horrible Dancing, maybe. And some other stuff…yeah. Same with the details of HP. Though it's just mostly HP. Like for example, when is Ginny Weasley's birthday? ;)

Random note: I saw Phantom of the Opera (the movie) a long time ago! It was SO FREAKING LOUD! And also quite good. I've never seen a play before; I think I might get distracted wondering what happens if someone messes up.

I'm still trying to figure out what to do with the (insert longer string of adjectives here) pink bunny. Some people don't seem to like it.

Harry's love of toast…that was just another random thing when I was typing it, but yeah, I can sort of see how something might happen…that'd be kind of interesting, really. Hmm. (thoughtful look to disguise the actual thought of 'I'm hungry.')

There's no such thing as 'far too many suggestions'. Unless, of course, it is 'far too many suggestions'. You don't count with that though, because…you just don't. Because you're review my stuff, I guess is why.

You have a fast metabolism you DIE. Because I don't. (sniff) OMGDIE. And bacon is good. If it's done right, anyway. Otherwise it's just not good.

Never had Chinese take-out either…I don't really need it, since I have it at home like every night. Chinese food, I mean.

Loved the review, and can't wait to see another one! (Really, I did)

P.S. Thanks…nothing you say will convince me, though. I still think I suck. Meh. Rocking socks are cool, but kind of freaky. You know? (imagines) Yeah. I wonder how they'd play the guitar or anything. I've heard of Wayne's World, never watched it, don't even know what it is. Somehow, I think of 'Where's Wally?' when I see that.

I'm going to use the last suggestion. Something about drugs…(wanders off looking thoughtful for real this time)

High Serpent King: Yep, a bunny. Yes, a giant bunny. Yeah, it's a giant pink bunny. Nice capitalisation, by the way. :) I really don't think it's new. The order of the really long string of adjectives, maybe, but not the actual bunny thing…

Yeah, I can see how you would prefer the dog. The thing is, I still can't decide, because the votes (all TWO of them!) are tied. The chapters? The length might have something to do with the fact that I have no muse. (shrug) This one was short too, anyway.

ShadowJamesPotter: Thanks! Can't imagine how I, of all people, would inspire someone, but…well. Yeah. Can't do anything about the 'write more soon' thing, though. ;) I'll try. Sort of. :D