Hehehehe... Hey there :3 I'm back with another chapter!

A dream. That's all this could be. A silly, stupid dream, brought on by an extra helping of tapioca pudding last night. Because there was no way in hell that this could be real.

Some sort of thin plastic balloons shaped like bananas were poking and prodding Neville.

Of course, when Harry, Ron, Seamus, and Dean felt them pressing against their own faces, they quickly awoke and jumped out of bed, only to gawk in wonder at their final dorm mate who was still fast asleep. Since he was always out later than them, they had never had a chance to notice what a deep sleeper he was. But it surely was evident now.

None of them could find their voices to call out his name, to wake him. Their arms and legs suddenly refused to move to shake him. All they could do was stare in complete bewilderment for a very long moment until Seamus lost his wits and practically tumbled down the stairs in his hurry. The others followed.

Sitting on the couch in the Gryffindor common room were Annabelle and Rose, both of whom quickly jolted awake at the sounds of the terrified boys. Harry rolled into a ball completely on his way down and now hit against the side of an unused armchair. The others were simply backing away from the steps up to their dorm, as though Lord Voldemort himself were up there.

"What is it?" Rose asked curiously, looking up the abandoned flight of stairs. Dean was nearest her, head against the back of the couch, and answered with as few words as possible: "Some sort of Muggle contraption is attacking Neville."

"And that scared you off?" Annabelle nearly laughed. All the boys sent her pointed glares for her amusement, to which she struggled to bite back her smile. Ron sighed.

"We don't know what they are," he grumbled, looking at the girls. "They were thin and…plastic, I suppose. And kind of long and shaped sort of like a cylinder. And they were covered in this."

At the last word, he got closer to the couch, tilting his face to the right to show Rose his cheek. Smeared across it was what appeared to be oil.

Or lube.

Rose let out a bark of laughter and patted his cheek gently, grinning. "I have a feeling I know who did this, love."

And ignoring the bright red blush spreading across his face, she stood up, walked briskly to the portrait hole, stuck her head out, and screamed at the top of her lungs, "SAAAAAAAM!"

"You enchanted Muggle condoms to dance out of the Ravenclaw common room, through the castle, and up into the Gryffindor boy's dormitories?"

Eryn was in complete and total shock, yet looked pleasantly amused. Annabelle was laughing hysterically. And Rose was simply watching the girl in question's face for some sort of hint of her reasoning behind the prank.

"Yep!" Sam smiled brightly. Rose groaned and stood up again, grabbing her friend's hand in the process. "Where're we going?"

"To see the mess you've made," the blonde replied, and Sam was swiftly dragged up the stairs. Not that she minded. Or it was her first time.

"Bloody hell, woman!" Ron cried out at the door being thrust open. Rose rolled her eyes at his exclamation and walked straight past the changing boys, all of whom looked surprised at their presence and a bit flustered. Except Neville, who was still snoring beneath his sheets.

"How is he still asleep?" Rose nearly screamed in frustration, especially since the slowly deflating condoms were still rubbing his face with lube. The guys smirked at Ron at her outburst. Rose spun around at Sam. "You are going to wake him up and explain to him why there's a trail of deflated condoms in here. Now."

And with a sharp look around the room, she evacuated the boys and herself, slamming the door shut behind her.

Sam sighed gently, looking at Neville now. Unlike when he was awake, his fair face was expressionless, serene. She would bet anything that he was in the middle of a blissful, dreamless sleep.

Too bad she would have to ruin that.

Without a second thought, she grabbed at the condoms, chucked them to the floor, and straddled his lower abdomen. Her hands ran up and down his chest – which was rather nicely built, considering she'd never seen him do any sort of physical activity – with a smirk plastered on her face. Her blue eyes looked over his face, which was still the in the same tranquil state, and decided she needed to step things up if he was to wake up.

He awoke to the feel of someone's heated lips pressed against his own. A pair of exceptionally soft hands was trailing beneath his shirt, across his skin, and he couldn't help but react to it in a way he wasn't too proud of. He kissed back immediately and let his fingers loop around this person's slim waist.

From the inside, the person began to unbutton his shirt, which was actually remarkable considering they didn't do up that way. He couldn't hold back an impressed smile when she managed to do all of them and then brush it away to leave her more space to press herself against.

Except she had to go and fuck it up.

"Neville…" was the only word she could utter (she still couldn't believe how great a kisser he was) and he recognized her voice. All of a sudden, all the breath within him was seized and he froze solid, completely immune to her kisses now. She continued for half a second before realizing something was wrong and pulling away to look at him. His eyes slowly moved to hers.

That amazing shade of gray blue that could only be found on Sam Calloway.

He quickly gripped her shoulders, pushing her away from him at least two feet. She sighed under her breath and sat upright, crossing her arms loosely across her chest. Her eyes avoided his at all costs, instead letting them roam across his exposed chest. At this, his face turned red and he shoved the thin white button-up back over the flesh.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he screamed, face flushed red and arms tightly holding his shirt close to him. She shrugged, her face innocent, her eyes now examining her nails.

"Sitting," she replied smoothly. His confused and dazed expression now turned to one of annoyance.

"I can see that. Mind getting off?" She let out a heavy breath but did as she was asked, clambering to another bed and sitting down upon the unmade sheets. Neville sat up, hurriedly buttoning his shirt back up and taking in the scene before him.

The single beds were messy and empty. The cool hardwood floor was covered in strange shiny crumpled-up plastic. And Samantha Calloway – renowned throughout as the school slut – was sitting in her thin nightgown, looking at him sweetly. He groaned and dropped his head into his knees.

Sam smiled weakly at his reaction. "I was told to come up here and apologize for this." She motioned aimlessly at the floor when she said this.

"What are those things?" he asked, his voice distorted a bit from the strange angle he spoke at.

"Condoms." He looked up at her curiously. "These Muggle things used in sex. See, to make sure a woman doesn't get pregnant, a bloke unrolls this over his d–"

"I get the picture!" he called out. She laughed breathily.

"Yes, well. You asked. So…yeah, I'm sorry for attacking you with condoms. And I'll just…be going…"

She wordlessly slipped out of the boy's dorms, and wasn't the least bit surprised that he turned to watch her ass through the thin material draped over it.

"So, how was it?"

Eryn quirked her eyebrow curiously at Kenzie. "How was what?" she asked. The latter girl rolled her eyes.

"The kiss with Harry!"

And of course, Eryn flushed at the words.

They were visiting Kenzie the day before she was allowed to leave the Hospital Wing, just to make sure she was still sane after the mending of her bones. It had been a few weeks, and each day a girl would bring her homework to her. She kept up her grades by pure skill.

"No one has told me a Goddamn thing because they wanted to make it monumental with you telling me!" Eryn shot a hateful glare at the others, all of whom just grinned. "So go on! Tell me about it!"

And so she did.

It felt so right. More right than anything she'd ever experienced. Like Christmas morning and Easter candy and her birthday and Halloween night and all wrapped in one. Like sugar and cinnamon and cookies. He tasted just like she had always imagined he would: faintly of cherry lip balm, mixed in with milk chocolate. Delicious was an understatement of her opinion of him.

And he couldn't help but return the favour of her. She felt warm, soft, beneath his lips. And his fingers too, as he found themselves having a mind of their own and reaching to the back of her neck. She reacted quickly, her own slender extremities winding into his short raven locks.

He couldn't supress a slight groan and immediately pulled her tighter to him, the hand not on her neck hooking round her waist. Her face immediately turned red and her insides squirmed at the feel of him so close. She'd only dreamt of such close contact with Harry before. Yet here she was, kissing him like she'd only ever hoped to.

After what felt like a millennium, they pulled apart. Harry gently pressed his forehead to hers, looking at her face for some reaction. Her eyelids were heavy, hooding her irises, and she was having trouble regulating her breath. But a few moments later, she nervously lifted her gaze from the floor and met his emerald eyes. A weak, nervous smile slipped upon her lips, and he returned it in the same way.

"Hi," he breathed. She let out a tiny laugh at his silence.

"Hi yourself," she replied.

Life had never felt more right.

"And then you kissed more right?" Kenzie's eager voice cut through the fog of happiness that clouded Eryn's mind, and she shook her head to get rid of the rest.

"No. Then he said that he did not regret the kiss and that he would be sure to do it again." Her cheeks turned even more pinkish. "And then he left."

Almost all the girls awed at her story, not helping her blushing state as she stuffed her face into a pillow. Annabelle chuckled at her reaction, patting her back gently.

"There, there," she soothed, the laughter in her voice evident. Rose smirked.

"Oh no, you aren't getting off that easy either." Annabelle tilted her head with confusion. "What happened when you ran out of the Hufflepuff common room?"

The groan that elicited from Annabelle's lips easily rivalled Eryn's.

It was incredibly difficult not to let a tear or two slip down her face as she raced down the corridors, trying to get as far as she could from the Hufflepuff common room. She could hear footsteps behind her that were catching up with her, but she quickened her step as best she could. Nothing mattered right now except running away.

"Annabelle!"

The voice was clearly feminine, which only heightened the girl's frustration, and she choked back a sob when a delicate, dainty hand lay upon her shoulder to stop her. Slowly but surely, she turned to look this girl in the face.

"Fuck. You." Those were the first words that came out of Annabelle's mouth when she saw Harriet's petite face. The latter one looked at her curiously, yet the former could see past her façade of innocence. She knew what it did to her.

"What did I do?" Harriet asked, as though she hadn't the faintest idea of how much seeing her and Blaise had killed Annabelle. "I mean, after all, you do hate him. Why should it matter?"

"When did I ever say I hated him?" Annabelle seethed. "I said he had no right to call you a slut. But at this point I beg to differ with myself." She sent a scathing look at her nemesis, who widened her eyes with mock surprise.

"You called him a prick."

"Doesn't mean I hate him."

Harriet went to say something else, but after a moment simply stared at her, comprehension washing over her like the tide on the shore. Then the dazed and confused look was replaced with one of smug arrogance. A smirk was plastered on her rose-petal lips as she looked at Annabelle.

"You fancy him, don't you?" she chuckled darkly.

At this, Annabelle flushed red. "Of course I don't. Are you daft? I've no reason to fancy him!" Harriet's accomplished grin only grew.

"You do. I knew it. And that's why it's bothering you so much! Because you found him the day after we shag-"

"Too much information!" Annabelle cried, and then spun on her heel and ran off. This time, Harriet didn't see any need to follow. She simply watched the girl who still piqued her interest stalk off. Being bi has its advantages, she thought, and then went back to the common room.

"You're shitting me," Kenzie gawked. Annabelle shook her head, curls bouncing a bit.

"I'm not. She had the nerve to come talk to me after what she did."

All the girls let their heads loll back and forth, sighing. After a long moment, Sam patted Annabelle's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." And then she changed the subject. "So, Kenzie, when're you getting out of this joint?"

Kenzie positively beamed at that question, swivelling herself back and forth. "Tonight! I can finally get the hell up and walk!"

Everyone smiled at her, hiding their thoughts, which knew wouldn't hang well about her happiness: Draco. The two Slytherins needed to have a chat.

"Well, good," Rose nodded, smiling. "You can have a little chat with a certain platinum blonde prince then."

They would've smacked her for her lack of subtlety had they not been afraid of her pummelling them.

Kenzie sighed. "Fine. If you corner a certain ginger spawn and have a chat."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Good."

"Good."

"GOOD."

I added that little quarrel at the end cause I'm being forced to finish this by the lovely Kenzie