Author's note: credit must be given to Hayseed, from whose story Dastardly Schemes and Drastic Measures I have stolen Blaise's cunning plan. You can find it at this page: I suggest you take a look.

Additionally, the very last line of the chapter is taken, of course, from that immortal classic The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, written by the now tragically deceased Douglas Adams.

5: In which Draco gets what he deserves

Morning found Blaise still on the floor and Weasley still snoring. Blaise rose stiffly, amazed at how painful half a night of sleeping on the floor could be. He shivered slightly, and amended the thought: it was amazing how painful and cold half a night of sleeping on the floor could be. He grabbed a pair of muggle jeans and a green sweater from the closet, promising himself that he would not repeat that experiment any more than necessary. Ban against magic be hanged: tonight, Blaise was putting up wards.

He dressed as quickly as was possible and headed downstairs, intending to make himself a very large cup of tea. No one else was up yet, and, when he looked at the clock on the kitchen wall, he realized that it was only six in the morning. He grimaced, but couldn't even imagine going back to the floor to try and sleep some more. He decided to make himself coffee instead: surely caffeine was as good as extra sleep, and coffee had the advantage of being hot.

It took him a while to figure out how to make the coffee pot work. He supposed that, since they were basically pretending to be muggles all summer, it was a good thing that the kitchen was stalked with muggle appliances, but there was no denying that it made it hard to work it. He finally found the correct button to press, and he sat down, watching in fascination as the water began to boil. He knew magic would have accomplished the same thing in half the time, but there was something hypnotizing in watching the muggle appliance do all the work for him. Only when pure water began to dribble into the pot did he realize he'd missed a crucial step: he hadn't put the coffee into the machine. He sighed. It would be tea after all, apparently. He rose and moved to one of the cupboards, looking for tea bags. He found a small box of raspberry tea and decided that that would do. He didn't have enough energy to look for more.

He draped the tea back in his mug and watched as the coffee machine poured him boiling water. When he had enough for a proper cupful, he yanked the coffee pot out and poured the water into his mug, managing to neither scald himself nor break the pot in the process. He returned the pot to its place on the machine and gingerly sipped the raspberry tea. It wasn't too awful, he decided.

He heard a noise behind him, and he turned to see Potter eyeing the coffee pot, a slight smile on his face. Blaise scowled. "Not one word," he warned.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Potter assured him. He got himself a mug and produced some proper tea from somewhere. Blaise refused to allow himself to gaze at it enviously, but there was no denying he would have preferred real tea to this raspberry concoction, which he was beginning to doubt was tea at all. He sighed very softly and took another sip.

"Are you hungry?" Potter asked.

Blaise was, but he only shrugged. Potter, who had a Slytherin for love of his life, correctly interpreted this gesture as, 'yes, give me foodnow,' and grinned. Suddenly, his grin turned into shock, and then a grimace of pain. Blaise grinned. Apparently his little gift of the night before was taking effect.

"What the…?" Potter murmured, moving inexorably away from the cupboard he'd been in the process of opening and towards the stairs. Blaise watched, his face carefully controlled once more. Moments later, Draco came tumbling down the stairs, as though he too were being pulled by a force outside his control.

"What's going on?" he demanded, looking at Potter.

Potter shrugged helplessly. "I have no clue," he said.

"Blaise?" Draco demanded, turning to his friend.

Blaise looked at the two of them, his face a perfect mask of bland innocence. "Yes Draco?"

Draco shook his head in disgust, then stiffened. Blaise held his breath, hoping they wouldn't figure him out. It would truly be a shame to be forced to remove the spell before it had run its full course.

"Weasley," Draco breathed, and Blaise let out a quiet sigh of relief. Now he could enjoy the show in peace.

Potter blinked. "What?"

"Remember last night? I'd be willing to bet the contents of my vault that he wasn't just excited about the end of term. He must have done this to us!"

Potter frowned. "Why would Ron do something like that?"

Draco shrugged. "I'm sure I don't know. But do you have any better theories?"

Helplessly, Potter shook his head.

"I didn't think so," Draco said. "I'll go and get him, shall I?"

Potter nodded, and Draco set off towards the stairs. He didn't get three feet before he stopped, gasping in surprise and pain. Potter's face turned white, and they staggered together. Their hands touched, and both of their faces relaxed. Draco scowled.

"Looks like we'll have to go together," he said grimly.

Potter nodded, and they carefully made their way out of the kitchen, still clutching hands. Blaise grinned widely as they left. Yes, this was going to be great fun.

They returned moments later with a rather bedraggled Weasley. Draco sat him down at the table and glared at him. "What have you done to us?" he demanded, wincing as he unconsciously tried to move away from Potter.

Weasley frowned. "Me? I haven't done anything!"

Potter looked at him. "Ron, please tell us the truth."

A rapidly concealed flash of pain crossed Weasley's face, followed by anger. "I'm not lying," he said. He turned to glare at Blaise. "Why don't you ask him what's wrong? It was his charm!"

The two wheeled to glare at Blaise, who shot Weasley a dirty look.

"Blaise," Draco said warningly.

Blaise idly took a sip of the raspberry water. "It's a variation on the permanent sticking charm," he said, not bothering to look at Draco. "It pulls the two of you inexorably closer to each other."

Draco's eyes widened, and he looked at Potter in horror. "Take it off!" he ordered tightly.

Blaise set down his mug. "Now, that would involve doing more magic," he pointed out. "Which would you prefer: to be bound to loverboy there for two days, or to have your mother swooping down on us?"

Draco winced, clearly weighing his choices. Finally, he asked, "It only lasts two days?"

Blaise nodded.

Potter's eyes narrowed. "How do we know you aren't lying?"

Blaise raised his right hand, locking eyes with Draco. "I swear by Salazar Slytherin himself that the spell wears off in two days."

Draco nodded, satisfied. "He's telling the truth."

"You're sure?"

Draco nodded again, and shot a dark glare at Blaise. "And you, my friend, will be very sorry for this."

Blaise smiled, completely unconcerned. Draco wouldn't use magic, and both of them knew it. Of course, Draco was resourceful enough that he wouldn't need it, but Blaise was confident he could deal with whatever Draco threw at him. He took another drink of the raspberry substance which was, he thought with a wry grin, almost, but not quite, entirely unlike tea.