Marlene had decided to keep me company as I was forced to write out, time and time again, 'I must not throw stationary at my fellow class mates.' Wow, Binns was getting original at making up his detentions. I bet he sat around in his office for ages thinking that one up. Anyway, he hadn't turned up to supervise me yet, so I had started without him, with Marlene 'helping' me.

"So, (chomp, chomp, chomp) what made you (chomp, chomp, chomp) throw my pencil case at Snape?"

Grateful as I was for Marlene sitting through my detention with me, I really, really wished she wouldn't chew her pumpkin pasty right in my ear. And that she wouldn't keep repeating herself.

"I've told you," I growled as I began my fifty-first line, "I wasn't aiming at Snape, it was meant to hit Potter!"

"But why did you have to throw my pencil case?"

"Why not!"

Marlene didn't have anything to say to that. She just stared reproachfully at me as she took another massive bite of her pasty (scattering pastry crumbs as she did so.) Thanking Merlin for the sudden silence, I ended my fifty second line and began the next.

"It will have grease all over it now."

"Huh?" I mumbled, concentrating on spelling 'stationary' correctly. Trust me, by then it didn't look like a real word any more.

"My pencil case. It will have grease all over it."

"Marlene," I said, looking up from my parchment to glare at her, "Much as I am fascinated to hear about the greasiness of your pencil case, you are putting me off. Talk to me when I've finished all two hundred lines."

She got a bit shirty at that, for some reason. "Well fine then," Marlene huffed and puffed, "I just won't bother talking at all then, shall I?"

"That would be good, actually," I muttered, re-loading my quill with ink. And the next thing I knew, she had jumped off the desk she was sitting on, picked up her bag with a loud 'hmph!" and stormed out the classroom, banging the door behind her. I was left alone. Alone.

"Alone!" I mumbled to myself, but nonetheless, bravely struggled onwards with my lines. After all, I only had…one hundred and forty eight left. Not that many when you think about it. Cough

Anyway, as I sat there with my wrist aching, my eyes burning and whatnot, I hear the door swing back open again, which made me jump out of my skin.

"Marlene, thank God you came back!" I exclaimed loudly, turning around in my seat. Only unfortunately, it wasn't Marlene. It wasn't Professor Binns, either.

It was Potter.

"You!" I spat, taking in his grinning face and looking over his shoulder to see where Black was. "What are you doing here?"

He only grinned wider and just strolled right in, like he had every right to be there. "Just come to see how my Snape-tormenting-partner is doing," he said casually, leaning against the wall and watching me with laughing eyes. I ground my teeth, but decided it was best to just ignore him, and carried on with trudging out my lines.

"That was a really excellent shot, by the way," he carries on, "Couldn't have aimed better myself. I think he might have a bruise there tomorrow, if we're lucky."

That did it.

"If we're lucky?" I ground out, keeping my eyes fixed on my parchment, "What are you talking about, Potter?"

"Well," I saw him shrug, out the corner of my eye, "By 'we', I mean you and me."

Was he for real? Did he honestly think I had meant to throw Marlene's stupid pencil case at Snape?

"Don't ever put the words 'you' and 'me' together in the same sentence again, Potter!" I snarled. I heard him give a low chuckle.

"There are so many things I could say to that, Evans, but I'm just not going to."

"Great comeback," I said sarcastically. Wonderful – now I had written 'I must not throw comeback' on my lines. Furiously, I crossed it out and started again.

As I concentrated on keeping my writing neat, I didn't hear him walk up behind me and sit down on the desk directly behind my chair. In fact, I only noticed he had moved at all when I felt it, the shuddering 'thunk' and jolt that had tormented me throughout the History of Magic lesson.

"Oh, Evans, Evans, Evans," he said lazily, with another added 'thunk' for impact, "You are so naïve. So innocent. It's quite amusing to watch."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I snapped, trying to ignore the extra 'thunk' shuddering up my chair legs. I could almost see him smirking at the back of my head. Distractedly, I re-filled my quill.

"You've never had a det' with Binns before, have you?" he inquired, now whacking his foot into the back of my chair repeatedly, "Actually, no, scratch that. You've never had a detention at all before. No wonder…"

"No wonder what?" I snarled, trying desperately to maintain a hold on my temper. My fingers were itching to just get hold of my wand, point it at his head and say…

"Well, if you'd had a det' with him before, then you would know." He laughed.

"Know what?"

He got up, and leant over, putting his mouth close to my ear. "You would know," he whispered, causing goose-bumps on my neck and tiny shivers to roll down my spine, "That Binns never actually turns up for his detentions. He just forgets all about them. You've been sitting here, wasting your time…"

He laughed softly into my face, then got up and walked away. "See you tomorrow, Evans," he said at the doorway, then went, closing the door after him.

I just sat in shocked silence, staring at the wall. No way. He had to be lying. Binns wouldn't just forget about his own detentions.

Would he?