Big high fives go out to: Weirdlyyours, DCoD, fifespice (a LOT), hermiones mirror twin, Snow-Leopard-Patronus, and firewolfalpha.

Special thanks goes out to firewolfalpha for plugging me at fictionalley, which I am eternally grateful for—didn't think anyone gave that much of a damn.

And here is why the summary included that random bit about bloomers. Short but I loved it, so enjoy:

Chapter Ten: Lilac Bloomers

Harry stumbled into the dormitory, followed by an equally clumsy Malfoy. "You stumbled!" Malfoy giggled.

"But you stumbled first!" Harry cried out jovially. Both boys collapsed on Harry's bed and roared with laughter.

Professor Flitwick really ought to rethink his lesson on Cheering Charms. An overdose could be a dangerous thing. But for now all Harry could think about was how funny his day'd been, especially when they'd tripped that bushy-haired girl on the way to Potions. This sent him into a fresh wave of giggles. Malfoy flipped over on the mattress and said, "Why, Harry dear, is this the state you keep your bedclothes in? Dreadful, dreadful!" He picked up a pillow and whacked Harry round the head with it.

"Oy!" Harry yelled, though not at all upset. Who could be upset? No one should be upset, or downset, or sideset, Harry thought. But he was rudely interrupted by another whack to the head. This time, something hard inside the pillowcase slipped out onto his lap. "Ow," Harry said rather inconsequentially.

Then he noticed what the thing was. "Why, Draco, look!" He giggled. "It's your dear old diary that your dear old dad sent you a few dear old weeks ago, it is!" The roars of laughter were subsiding, but the giggles remained. Harry snatched out a quill. " 'Dear Diary'," he proclaimed grandly as he wrote. " 'My good friend Harry is quite the dashing fellow' "—a giggle—" 'and I do declare I shall never look quite as good as the chap.' "

Malfoy chuckled and swiped at the diary, but Harry leapt off the bed and continued loudly: " 'Moreover, I seem to be taking a penchant towards wearing large, frilly lilac bloomers under my robe. I find they are quite good for my' "—Harry paused, then laughed. "Your diary's broken, Malfoy."

Malfoy giggled. "Broken?"

"Broken, broken, broken, bloken, blocknen, bogninny!" Harry crowed. "It's eating the ink!"

Malfoy snatched the diary and took a look. He scribbled on the diary with a quill, then grinned cheerfully as the ink disappeared. Then Malfoy blinked. "Look what it's doing."

Harry craned his head over the other boy's shoulder. The diary read, "Who is this?" Harry gaped as the diary ate up the words. "Did you write that?" he asked Malfoy.

Malfoy giggled. "No, I didn't, Potter. The diary wrote it."

The two boys looked at each other. Then they collapsed into giggles. Growing bored of the old book, they threw it in the air and began dancing a wild jig on Harry's bed that lasted well into dinner.

An hour later, exhausted and aching in the diaphragms, they collapsed on the bed and fell asleep. At the foot of Harry's bed lay the diary.

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Basically, any and all slashy hints are merely placed there for the happiness of me and my betas, who are horribly fangirly and love that sort of thing. Who am I kidding, so do I.

Make fff happy and leave a review.