Disclaimer: You know the drill. J.K. owns all HP nouns. The rest of us are just here to twist them around until their minds work the way we want them to and they say the things we want them to, and get together with the people we want them to (Dramione all the way!) and...you get the point.

Author's Notes: This is the longest chapter yet! However, I sort of rushed through it, so I'm not sure if it's the best chapter. But you'll all love it anyway, right? I'll give you chiiiicken! Review review review!

.Chapter Five.

Harry Potter had been locked in his very own room.

With a Slytherin. And not just any Slytherin. Oh no, he was currently forcibly stuck with Pansy Parkinson. Who also happened to be the object of his affection, and the subject of his recent sexual fantasies.

Had he been thinking clearly, he would not be in this situation. Harry should have remembered that Weasleys threw the wildest parties. Add alcohol in and you've got yourself one insane party.

It was well-known that Fred and George had been at the top of Hogwarts' A-list when it came to partiesand pranks, of course. However, Harry did not know that their younger siblings, Ron and Ginny Weasley, had inherited the reputation and were doing quite a job of keeping it.

The party, being small, but somehow still wild, was egged on by the unhealthy amounts of alcohol that everyone had consumed. Apparently, Draco Malfoy was a great source of both cheap and expensive liquor. The magically conjured table that had been strategically placed where everyone could see it was piled high with Firewhiskey, Muggle Vodka,

butterbeer for the light drinkers, and a various selection of foreign wines.

Harry's guess was that Draco and Hermione had left early to "take care of some business", Ron was attempting to conjure artificial Veelas, and Pansy was sticking to drinking butterbeers when an extremely drunk Ginny came along and grabbed him and Pansy, then proceeded to lock them in Harry's room.

So now they sat in opposite corners of the room, both sighing to themselves. Just as Harry was starting to nod off, Pansy cleared her throat loudly. "How long has it been, Potter?"she asked, pointing to her wrist.

Harry shrugged. "Two hours?"

Pansy groaned. "I'm going to kill that little bitch," she muttered under her breath.

"I heard that," Harry replied.

"Tough," Pansy retorted.

And then the silence came back.

A half hour later, it was Harry's turn to clear his throat. "Do you have any food?"

Pansy snorted. "Isn't being a pig Weasley's job?"

"Hey! It's not his fault he's got an extra fast metabolism that causes him to be constantly hungry," Harry shot back, defending his long time best friend.

Pansy sniffed. "No need to get all defensive," she muttered.

"I'm not being defensive," Harry grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes you are," she said.

"NO I'M NOT!" he practically screamed.

"Whatever you say. Merlin, who knew you were such an easy target," she said, just to see how angry she could get him.

But obviously Harry was the type of guy who was always determined to prove you wrong, because he just shut up and scowled at her. So Pansy scowled back.

Rule number 51 of the Slytherin Code of Conduct: Never let a member of an opposing house, especially a Gryffindor, scowl at you without retaliation.

Their scowling match did not last long, because just then, there was a loud crash. The two hostages immediately scrambled to their feet. "Merlin's balls! What the hell was that?" Pansy asked, alarmed.

Harry, who was more curious than anything, shook his head. "I don't know, but let's try and get out of here first." Pansy just nodded.

She supervised Harry while he proceeded to slam into the door, attempting to knock it down. On the fifth try, Pansy gave up on him and gestured for him to step aside. But there was one thing she had to ask before she ruined her favorite dress robes. "Do you have your wand?"

Harry glared at her. "If I did, do you think we'd still be here?"

Pansy shrugged. "Only asking," she said. Then she charged at the door. And miraculously, it worked. The door instantly clanked to the ground with a dull thud.

The smug smile on Pansy's face was a sight to see. "All in a day's work," she said, brushing off her robes.

On their way out, Harry simply stared at her in wonder. Pansy smirked in response.

"Looks like you need to workout more Potter."

Harry just glared at her. Pansy was unfazed and continued to make her way through the corridors, searching for the source of the disruptive crashing sound. On their way, they passed Ron singing Christmas carols, Ginny slumped over on a chair mumbling to herself, and Draco and Hermione's bedroom door, which seemed to be suffering from some rough rushed-against-the-nearest-flat-surface sex.

"Hmph," Pansy grumbled. "Soiled my robes for no reason. Imbeciles..."

Harry, however, didn't hear her. He was busy searching the floor for movement with great concentration.

"Potter, what the fuck are you doing? There's nothing on the damn floor!"

Again, Harry ignored her, continuing his careful examination. A few moments later, he had apparently found what he was searching for and proceeded to mutter to himself under his breath.

Pansy raised a magically tweezed-to-perfection brow. "I always knew you were a bit off your rocker, but I never thought you were suffering from schizophrenia, as well."

If she wanted Harry to rise to the challenge and fire back, she was disappointed. He completely ignored her. So Pansy just sighed, and leaned against the wall. Just when she was dozing off, Harry let out an excited gasp. Then he exclaimed, "I knew it!"

Pansy stood up straight and yawned. "Knew what?"

Harry got up from his crouch and turned to face Pansy. His emerald eyes sparkled with excitement, and his mouth quirked up on the corners. "There's a secret passage under the floorboards!" he explained, pointing to the spot he had been analyzing.

Pansy was unimpressed. "So what? This is Hogwarts. Secret passages are nothing new."

Harry rolled his eyes. "But this one leads to a brothel!"

It was Pansy's turn to roll her eyes. Boys, she thought. Trust them to get excited at the prospect of whoreswho undoubtedly had at least ONE sexual transmitted disease from their so-called 'careers'performing sexual favors that any sensible girl would have turned down without a second thought. "And how do you know this?"

"It was the only interesting fact that Hermione ever shared with us when she ranted about Hogwarts: A History."

Oh. So it was Granger who had found the need to tell seventeen and eighteen-year-old boys about the hidden brothel under their school.

Just peachy.

Pansy wondered just how many people she would have to accidentally do away with after this hellhole of a night was over.

At this rate, she would be able to publish a book on all the reasons why certain people needed to suffer.

And in her book, she would make sure there was no mention of any brothels, hidden or no.