Millions of slimy vile smashed against the flagstone floors, spilling their unidentified containers. Students, as if in slow motion, open their mouths in screams and fled, parchment and quills flying. Desks upturned, chairs toppled, and expensive looking objects broke, as two opposing students claw and tore at each other.

"I HATE YOU!"

"I HATE YOU MORE!"

Slitherin and Gryffindor blood mixed as it gushed from the small flesh wounds they inflicted upon each other, robes tore, and cut lips snarled.

"POTTER! MALFOY! OUT! OUT! OUT OF MY CLASSROOM THIS INSTANT!"

Snape had snapped like a rubber band. His precious classroom, being smashed into smithereens before him, in the hands of his hated Harry Potter and his favorite Draco Malfoy. Both did no such thing to move and continued to rip each other up, spewing all sorts of colorful words. And Snape thought he'd heard them all… then the worst happened. Potter and Malfoy started to fall with great speed towards a special nose reduceding potion which he had been working on for two years and a half. The contains were also extremely flammable and a flaming torch fell on top of the sticky mess. In seconds his classroom was on fire. Snape counted to five.

FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOPH! Lucky for him, it was also extremely explosive.

That exact same day, birds flew, monkeys howled as they leaped away, and a wide verity of reptiles slithered away from their broken gold cages. All because Harry and Draco were at it again.

"How DARE you make EYE CONTACT with ME?"

"You call yourself a seeker? Peepers more like it!"

"At least I can keep a girl long enough to…!"

"SHUTUPYOUSICKSLITHERINBASTARD!"

chalk dust rose as Harry slammed Draco into the chalk board. McGonagall, heart on the verge of dying out, crumpled to the floor, squashing a star nosed mole.

It was a day for history in Bin's class. No one, NO one, slept in that class on this day. Instead, they all fled and coward under desks as Harry and Draco screamed very threating things at each other across the room like,

"Would you rather I give you a black eye, or cut off your left nut? Take your pick, Malfoy!"

"STAYAWAYFROMMYBEAUTIFULFACE!"

Yet Bins continued on the great lesson on the yam tribe and their mating rituals. As if nothing was going on.

"Wingardium Leviousa!"

"OW! YOU BASTARD! WINGARDIUM LEVIOUSA! WINGARDIUM…!"

Flitwick squealed and toppled off his stack of manga books as a quill drove a 5 inch hole into the wall behind him. Sharp, deadly objects flew so fast around the newly deserted room, it could decapitate a hippogriff. Words just as sharp were tossed back and forth as well.

/ ah well/ flitwick thought beneath his desk,

/at least they've mastered over 20 hexes, summoning, and levitation charms, I'll give them that…/

Mandrakes shrieked as they toppled from their shattered pots. The deadliest plants shriveled back in fear and the weakest had died hours before. The fight between the best looking continued their saga of war as Harry, straddling Draco, attempted to suffocate him with the pink ear muffs.

Orbs, cups, teacups, telescopes, and other mystical objects broke as Harry and Draco tried to paper cut each other to death with tarot cards blah blah blah blah.

"BASTARD!" blah "SNAKE!" blah "CANDYASS!" blah "FRERRET!"…

In Defense against the dark arts… they couldn't do anything because there was no teacher. Lockhart, just out of St. Mungo's, was sent right back at his worst nightmare… black eyes, bruises, and ugly cuts and welts. Beauty withdrawal is not a pretty thing for him. Their beauty…ruined… the horror…

So instead they were all sent to dinner early, and just like lunch, brunch, snack, and breakfast, Harry and Draco started up a huge school food fight… just between themselves. Everyone else was too chicken shit.

You might as well skip the care and keeping of Hagrid's magical critters, because Potter and Malfoy were just as chicken shit about getting on Hagrids bad side. Who knows what kind of demented creature he'd send on them.

Instead, they set millions of very destructive booby traps for each other at quiddich practice, causing Madame Pomphry to go into a babbling fit about,

"Blood… so much… BLOODY TERRIORISTS!" or something or another.

When they finally went to bed, they fought in their dreams, causing lots of damage to the dormitories, ripping up curtains, bed sheets, and the beds themselves, causing a lot of mental damage to their roommates too.