IMPORTANT! YOU WILL MISS SOMETHING IF YOU DO NOT READ THE NOTE BELOW!

Author's Notes: Until recently, I was unaware that we aren't allowed to post song lyrics into our fics, and used some lyrics myself. Therefore, I removed the lyrics. This makes the story slightly less funny in places, especially later on. I hope to soon have all of my work up on another site that allows lyrics, and when I do the link will be in my bio and an announcement will be in my author's notes. Some chapters in the future will be so completely changed by the removal of the lyrics that I won't be able to post more than half a chapter on this site, but I'll put up warnings and a link to another site when that happens. I apologize for this; I'd written those chapters before I realized I couldn't use lyrics.

Chapter Thirteen

Shut Up, Malfoy

"This is really stupid, you know."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"Hurry up in there, will you, Granger?"

"Shut UP, Malfoy!"

The private bathroom Draco and Hermione were to share was rather large, and the toilet was surrounded by walls like a public restroom stall, so there hadn't been much of a problem with using it. The shower, however, had created quite an annoyance.

"Stop jerking my arm around!"

"Shut up, Malfoy!"

"I have to wash my hair, Malfoy! Get over it!"

"Why do you bother, it looks like crap anyway—ow! Potter!"

"Shut up, Malfoy!"

It had taken them ages to figure out how Hermione and Draco were going to shower—or get dressed and undressed, for that matter; they had no idea how to take off their shirts and robes over the chain. Hermione, who was usually so quick to find a solution, had begun to panic and consequently was unable to think of anything; Harry, however, had remembered the spell Ron had used to trim the lace off of his dress robes in their fourth year and had suggested something similar, which calmed Hermione down and sent her into research mode. Half an hour later, they had a spell that could cut their shirts open, allowing them to take off and put on their outfits, and then all they had to do was repair their clothing later with a simple charm. Draco changed into his pajamas without a hitch, but Hermione insisted upon taking a shower before bed; she knew from experience that her hair would be twice as unmanageable if she didn't let it at least partially air dry. Harry used threats—both by words and wand—to get Draco to turn around so Hermione could get undressed and hop in the shower.

Hermione had been beyond nervous about showering with five feet separating her wrist from Draco's—so Harry had been forced to stand inside the bathroom, his wand aimed right between Draco's eyes while Draco's arm was yanked back and forth as Hermione reached for various bottles and scrubbed herself clean. Draco, annoyed, angry and tired, kept up a steady stream of comments; Harry occasionally "accidentally" hit or kicked Draco for saying something especially rude. Draco spent most of the time glaring at Harry, who was watching him suspiciously, making sure Draco didn't try to peek or make any threatening moves. It was getting really late; not only had there been the clothing problem, but they three of them had had scores of arguments.

"You people are really paranoid, you know that?" Draco said irritably to Harry. Hermione had been in the shower for over an hour (the castle's water supply was bewitched to make sure no one ran out of hot water), and during the entire time, Harry had been watching him carefully.

"Gee, I wonder why," Harry said, rolling his eyes. His arm was starting to cramp from holding his wand up for so long. "Um… Herm? Are you almost done?"

"Yeah," she said, and then proceeded to spend another twenty minutes in the shower. At last, she shut off the water… but made no move to come out.

"Hermione?" Harry called as the minutes stretched.

"Um… could you hand me a towel, Harry?"

"Come on out and get one yourself—ow!"

"Shut up, Malfoy!"

Harry grabbed a nearby towel and threw it over the shower curtain to Hermione, trying not to laugh at the resigned look on Draco's face as Draco's arm was yanked back and forth once again.

"Hey, Harry? Er… how am I supposed to get dressed?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's nothing I haven't seen before, Granger," he called, smirking.

"Shut up, Malfoy!"

"It's something you'll never see again," Harry growled, and cast a Summoning Charm to get Hermione's nightgown, underwear and wand and throw them over the shower curtain.

"This is so embarrassing," she moaned from inside the shower. They could hear the ripping noise as she cast the charm to rip open the strap on her nightgown to get it on her head, followed by a Repair Spell. At last, she pulled back the curtain, her hair wrapped up in the towel.

"Nice nightgown," Draco said, smirking. Hermione glared at him; she wasn't much of a clotheshorse, and only had a few nightgowns; this was the only one she had that was currently clean, and while it was almost ankle-length, it also showed a bit of cleavage and was rather clingy. "Although surely you've got something better? I mean, I already know you're a fan of black lace—ow!" Draco rubbed the back of his head and shot an annoyed look at Harry.

"Ready for bed?" Harry asked wearily, lowering his wand. Standing in a bathroom for nearly two hours while Draco made wisecracks wasn't exactly his idea of fun—quite the opposite, really, he now had extra motivation to make sure he was never sent to hell.

Hermione nodded reluctantly, glancing at Draco out of the corner of her eye, and the three of them headed for the bedroom. After a thirty-minute fight over who got which bed, they finally settled in to sleep. Harry lay on the edge of one bed, glaring at Draco while Hermione curled up against Harry's chest, falling almost instantly asleep.

"Don't you two look cozy," Draco drawled, lying on his stomach on the other bed and glaring back at Harry. "You and Granger do that a lot?"

"None of your business, Malfoy," Harry snapped. He knew perfectly well that other people—Ron included—thought his tendency to share a bed with Hermione was odd, but it had never meant anything to him; it was no different than falling asleep while sitting on the couch together or something, and he found her presence beyond comforting. Harry and Hermione were above having a relationship; they were too good of friends.

"So that's a yes, then," Draco said, smirking. "Does the Weasel know?"

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"Who would have thought Granger was such a little tramp behind the scenes?"

"She is not," Harry said hotly. As far as he knew, Hermione had only had two boyfriends, Ron and Krum, and had never gone very far with either of them; still, there were plenty of rumors about her, mostly due to Slytherin animosity and reporters' speculation about Hermione being the ex-girlfriend of not only Quidditch star Viktor Krum but also the Boy-Who-Lived. Both Harry and Ron had started becoming increasingly upset when overhearing rumors about her; not only was she their closest friend, but Harry was sick of being asked about his "relationship" with her and Ron was sick of people thinking his girlfriend was a whore.

"Sure she isn't," Draco snorted. "Between you, the Weasel, Krum, and Snape—"

"I still can't believe you fell for that," Harry said with a snicker. "What an idiot."

"Say what you want, Potter, but I know what I saw. She came out of his office covered in hickeys, and the Little Weasel saw it, too."

"How would you know what Ginny saw?" Harry retorted.

"You saw her face when I mentioned it," Draco said. "She knows, and the two of them kept it a secret from you."

"Whatever, Ferret Boy."

"Shut it, Scar Head."

"Make me, dumb ass."

"Don't make me make you, shit head."

"Loser."

"Mudblood."

"Death Eater."

Draco felt his blood boil. After the fight with Ron, he swore he would to keep his head when someone called him that, but he couldn't stop the rage that ignited within him.

Draco grabbed for the chain and yanked on it, hard, pulling Hermione forward and forcing Harry to be pushed off the bed as well. Harry landed painfully on the floor, Hermione on top of him. She awoke with a start and looked up, confused, while Draco burst out laughing.

Harry grabbed for the chain and jerked on it with all his might; Draco grabbed at his pillow and blankets uselessly in an attempt to stop his fall as Harry pulled Hermione out of the way. Draco landed next to them with a thud.

"Potter, you little shit!" Draco yelled, punching Harry hard in the arm. Harry responded with a jab to Draco's eye and the fistfight began.

Hermione pleaded with them as she was jerked back and forth from Draco's punches and dodges; the two boys were oblivious to her as they took out seven years of frustration on each other. Eventually, as Draco got Harry in a headlock and Harry used the opportunity to continuously ram his fist into Draco's gut, Hermione grabbed her wand.

"Petrificus totalus!" Hermione yelled, and Draco's legs and arms sprang to his side. He toppled over, face-up at the foot of Hermione's bed.

"Thanks," Harry panted, straightening up and glaring at Draco's prone form.

"Petrificus totalus!" Hermione shouted again, and Harry found himself meeting the same fate as Draco.

The two boys stared up at Hermione as she loomed over them, glowering at each in turn. "I've had it with you two!" she yelled. "I need to sleep, and I'm going to sleep, and you two are going to get over yourselves until I get this stupid chain off! Let me assure you both, right now, that I know more curses than Flitwick and McGonagall combined, and I won't hesitate to use them! You two will behave, do you understand me?"

Neither of them could move anything more than their eyes, but Harry jerked his up and down, nodding as best he could. She took that as an affirmative.

"Good night," she said irritably, grabbing Draco's feet and dragging him close enough to her bed for her to climb into it and lay down. "Boys, honestly," she muttered, before closing her eyes and falling back asleep.

Usually, the Full Body-Bind didn't last too long, but Hermione had overdone it in her anger. It was almost daylight before either boy could move a muscle, which gave them plenty of time to seethe and to realize that Hermione could be way too scary when she was angry.

Hermione awoke, perfectly rested, to find herself curled around Harry once more; he must have gotten back in the bed once the spell wore off. Draco, however, had fallen asleep after about two hours of petrifaction and was still slumped against her bed. She nudged him with her foot; she had to pee, and she couldn't drag Draco all the way to the bathroom.

Draco started awake, wondering who dared to touch him, and looked up in confusion. Remembering the previous night, he looked up; Hermione was sitting up, kicking Draco gently but insistently in the side, struggling to lean over Harry; the chain was trapped beneath his arm. At least, she was pretty sure it was under his arm; she couldn't see it, which made matters more difficult.

"Stop it," Draco snapped drowsily. "Go back to sleep."

"I have to go to the bathroom."

"Use the bed," Draco told her, too tired to do anything but lay down on the floor. "Potter won't mind, honest."

"Come on, I can't even get out of bed without stepping on you," she whined.

"Step on me and die."

"Fine. I'll just lay here. And sing. In French. Do you know how to sing 'Jingle Bells' in French? Sing with me, now—on marchent dans—"

"All right, all right," he moaned, sitting up. "Anything to shut you up."

"Thank you. Let me wake Harry."

"Does Potter really have to be there?" Draco whined. "If I have to be awake, I prefer him unconscious."

Hermione ignored him and started to shake Harry. "Harry? Harry, wake up." Harry groaned but didn't wake up. "Harry!"

Harry's eyes opened a crack. He looked up at her, smiled, and promptly pulled her to him, then rolled over until he was on top of her.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed.

"POTTER!" Draco yelled, as the chain tugged his arm up and across Harry's back.

"Need more sleep," Harry murmured, nuzzling his face into the pillow beside her head.

"Harry, Harry you have to wake up…"

"Potter, you have until I count to three before I Avada Kedavra you!"

Harry opened his eyes, confused. "Malfoy?" he asked sleepily, looking up and back at Draco. "Go away. I'm sleeping," he muttered, closing his eyes and laying back down, still sprawled across Hermione.

"Harry! Get up!" she said shrilly as Draco struggled to reach his wand, which was still under his pillow on the other bed.

Harry sighed, finally seeming to come back to earth. "What?" he groaned. He sat up—and nearly broke Draco's arm in the process. Draco was forced to dive over Harry and he landed on the bed on the other side of Harry and Hermione.

"Damn. You're still here," Harry said wearily, giving him a strange look as Draco landed on the bed, causing the mattress to bounce slightly.

"Yeah, well, I'm not enjoying it either," Draco said angrily.

The door opened just then and Ginny bounded into the room, then stopped, staring around in surprise. Harry was sitting on Hermione, Draco was lying next to them, and all three of them were giving her an annoyed look. She grinned. "Am I interrupting something?" she asked innocently.

"Ginny!" Hermione wailed.

"Sorry, couldn't resist."

"Hey, Gin," Harry said tiredly, climbing off of Hermione. "How goes the rumor mill?"

"Tell me in the bathroom," Hermione said, interrupting Ginny and nearly leaping off the bed.

Ginny followed the three of them into the bathroom curiously. "This is one of the weirdest things you've ever had to do, you know," she commented idly as she inspected the spacious bathroom.

"Yeah, I never thought I'd be taking Malfoy to the toilet," Hermione said wearily as she emerged from the bathroom stall and went to wash her hands.

"Hey, Ginny?" Harry asked as Hermione walked back over to the stall to let Draco use the toilet. "Can you stay here while Malfoy showers?"

Ginny stared at him. "What?"

"I don't want to leave Hermione alone with him, but if you're here, I can go use the main showers while he's using this one; then we can get down to breakfast faster," Harry explained. "That way she won't have to wait while I shower, too. You don't mind, do you, Hermione?"

Hermione shook her head. "Sure, Harry," Ginny said, and Harry left gratefully.

Draco sleepily stumbled into the shower and Hermione and Ginny sat outside the shower stall, chatting idly.

"There's a lot of talk floating around," Ginny told her. "Mostly about Harry; a few people saw him come in here in his pajamas with you, and everyone seems to know that he and Ron had a fight—"

"Let me guess—I broke up with Ron and went out with Harry?"

"Yup. Then everyone's speculating about what you did that Dumbledore found out about; some people say it was the Quidditch goal post prank—" Ginny raised her voice to make sure Draco could hear her clearly— "and some say after I accidentally knocked you into him, you two had a huge duel and Dumbledore found out."

"Who won the duel?" Hermione asked with a smile.

"Well, the Gryffindors think it was you, and the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs will probably think the same thing, but the Slytherins will most likely insist it was Malfoy—"

"Yeah, well, who cares what they think?"

"Exactly."

Hermione shivered slightly in her nightgown. "Hey, Ginny... could you go get me something to wear?" she asked.

"Sure," Ginny said, leaving and returning several minutes later with Hermione's best skirt and cutest sweater.

"Ginny, I'm not wearing that," Hermione said, nodding at the sweater as she changed into the bra, underwear and skirt.

"Why not?" Ginny demanded. "It looks so cute on you!"

"It shows more than my bra does!"

"I vote you wear it!"

"Shut up, Malfoy!" both girls shouted at the shower curtain.

"Come on, Hermione, why buy cute clothes if you're not going to wear them?"
"I don't buy them. My mother buys them and then sneaks them into my luggage."

"Please?"

"No."

"Fine," Ginny said with a pout, and returned to the bedroom.

She came back to the bathroom three times with fashionable sweaters, none of which Hermione would wear. By the time Ginny returned with a sweater Hermione could agree to, Draco was already out of the shower, dressed, and in the process of styling his hair with gel.

Harry arrived, dressed and groomed, as Hermione and Draco were in the process of brushing their teeth, both of them fully clothed, while Ginny hovered behind Hermione, eyeing Hermione's bushy hair with longing.

"Come on, Hermione, it would look so cute if we smoothed it down a bit…"

"Groh," Hermione said through a mouth of toothpaste.

"Was that a yes?" Ginny asked hopefully.

Hermione spat in the sink. "No!"

"Please?"

"Let it go, Gin, she looks fine," Harry said, ignoring Draco's derisive snort.

"But if I could just—"

"For heaven's sakes, Gin, I'm not a Barbie," Hermione said, exasperated.

"What's a Barbie?" Ginny asked blankly.

"Muggle doll," Draco said absently, expecting his reflection in the bathroom mirror carefully.

The Gryffindors turned to stare at him. "How do you know that?" Harry demanded.

Draco narrowed his eyes and scowled at him. "I took Muggle Studies. My father made me."

"That's right, I forgot you were in that class," Hermione said vaguely.

"Can we go down to breakfast now?" Draco snapped, marching out of the bathroom; Hermione had to throw her toothbrush back on the counter as she was half-dragged away.

After feeding Crookshanks and bundling up in cloaks and other winter gear, the four of them set off for the Great Hall, ignoring the whispers from students they passed, walking once again with Harry and Hermione in front and Ginny following Draco. Draco had fallen into a sullen silence; none of the others knew why, but they didn't exactly care.

"You're getting really good at that hat-making," Harry remarked as they headed downstairs. Hermione's knit hats now looked almost store-bought; she was wearing one at the moment.

"I just wish some of the elves had picked them up," Hermione said sadly, having found out the previous year that not only had the house elves refused to touch them, but they had refused to clean Gryffindor tower.

"Well, you made Dobby really happy, at any rate," Ginny said.

"And the elves forgave you," Harry said.

"You lot are really weird," Draco muttered, not understanding their conversation. "Wait… Dobby? We used to have a house elf named Dobby… wonder whatever happened to him. Hmm… bet Father killed him."

"Your father killed your elves?" Hermione demanded in shock.

"Occasionally. He killed a lot of stuff," Draco said dully, and moved around her to continue walking.

Harry, Hermione and Ginny exchanged glances, but none of them said anything. As they approached the entrance hall, someone cleared their throat and said, "Um… Ginny?"

They all turned to see Dean Thomas staring at them sheepishly; he backed away slowly as every last one of them drew their wands and glowered at him.

"Er… I just wanted to apologize to you, Gin," Dean mumbled. "And to you, Hermione. I just… I lost my temper, and then when I saw you go for your wand I panicked, I know how good you are. I… I'll understand if you're still upset, but I'm sorry, guys, I really am."

Ginny bit her lip. "Go on without me, guys," she told Harry and Hermione. "I'll catch up with you later."

"Excuse me?" Draco spat as Harry and Hermione started walking. Forgetting the fact that he would rather die than fight on the side of Harry, Hermione and Ginny, he added, "Are you insane? It's four on one! Let's kick his ass!"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry, Hermione and Ginny said in unison. Draco looked ready to attack Dean himself, but McGonagall entered the hall just then and he thought better of it.

Harry, Hermione and Draco went into the Great Hall together and sat down at the Gryffindor table, Draco casting a longing look at his fellow Slytherins. The other Gryffindors ignored them entirely; every Gryffindor walking into the hall cast Draco a poisonous look and sat down as far away from him possible.

Just as they were tucking into breakfast, someone plopped down next to Hermione and they all looked up in surprise.

"Wood!" Harry said. "What's up?"

Oliver Wood, who'd been teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts since the beginning of term—after sustaining a major injury that had forced him to take a leave of absence from the Puddlemere United Quidditch team—grinned at Harry over Hermione's shoulder. "Just thought I'd come see how you were doing," he said casually. "Dumbledore's told the staff what really happened. You all right, Hermione?"

Hermione blushed and didn't meet Oliver's eye—which didn't escape the notice of Harry or Draco. Harry frowned. Oliver had joined the Order of the Phoenix in the summer before their fifth year, and had hung around Grimmauld Place with them on many occasions. Harry had begun to notice something strange about Oliver and Hermione, though he'd never been able to put his finger on what, and had been too distracted by the war to care very much. However, since Oliver had become the DADA teacher, things had been very off between them. Hermione never lingered after class to talk to Oliver like Harry and Ron did, and when she came to Quidditch practices she left early if Oliver turned up to offer his expertise. Oliver had become closer to them all during the war, and yet he and Hermione, so friendly with each other during the days at Grimmauld Place, barely spoke anymore. Harry forced his features into a blank expression; Draco looked curious enough about why Hermione seemed so uncomfortable.

"As well as can be expected," Hermione told him. "You?"

"I'm good," Oliver said, smiling at her warmly. She gave him a more nervous sort of grin. "Oh… here, these are your new schedules," he said, handing Hermione and Draco each a slip of paper. "Dumbledore asked me to give them to you. Oh… and Hermione, have you seen Snape?"

Hermione's head whipped up and she finally looked Oliver in the eye. "What makes you think I've seen Snape?" she asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," Oliver said hastily. "It's just… well, the twins might've, um, sort of, you know, said something the last time I was in Diagon Alley," he went on in a rush. "About you and Snape forming an alliance—"

"Told you about the prank I pulled on her, didn't they?" Draco said with a smug smile.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Harry and Hermione yelled.

"Five points from Slytherin," Oliver snapped.

"For what?" Draco retorted rudely.

"You just admitted you pulled a prank," Oliver said coldly. "Keep talking and you'll wish you'd never heard of Hogwarts." Draco returned to his breakfast irritably and Oliver grinned. "I love being a teacher," Oliver said with relish. "Really beats the hell out of being a student."

"Did the twins really tell you?" Hermione said desperately. "How many people have they told?"

"Not many," Oliver assured her. "Just, you know, Bill and Charlie… and Lee… and Angelina, Alicia, and Katie." Hermione sighed heavily. "And, um, Tonks," Oliver added, and she moaned and put her head in her hands. Oliver patted her back soothingly, then quickly stopped at Harry's shrewd look. "Don't worry about it, okay? It's not worth getting upset over. Anyway… have you seen Snape? No one's seen him since yesterday, right after he took you to Dumbledore's office, and he's not answering whenever one of us knocks on his door. McGonagall broke into his room—"

"She what?" Harry, Hermione, and Draco interrupted in surprise.

"She… well, she's good friends with Snape—except when it's Quidditch time—and she knows him well enough to be able to guess most of his passwords. So she went in there this morning, and said it doesn't look like he slept in there last night. Poppy—you know, Madam Pomfrey, I'm trying to get used to calling the teachers by their first names—she said he was supposed to start brewing some more Pepper-Up Potion today."

"Hmm," Hermione said. "Well, I haven't seen him since last night, either. I'm sure he'll turn up. He's in his forties, for crying out loud, he probably isn't used to leaving a note if he goes and visits a friend for the weekend."

"Hermione, this is Snape we're talking about," Oliver said wryly. "He doesn't have friends, and he hasn't disappeared for the weekend since before You-Know-Who died."

"Well, I wouldn't worry about it," Harry said. "He'll turn up. Or maybe he quit, who knows?" he added hopefully.

Oliver grinned. "One can wish. He's an absolute nightmare… though he's been a tad nicer recently, really. Still a jerk, just less consistently, you know? Anyway… I've got to go, I need to eat some breakfast and get straight up to my office; I've got a huge pile of papers to grade."

"Wait—is there any news on a cure?" Hermione asked.

"For the chain thing? No, not yet. We talked to a few witnesses, so we know what curses combined, but we're not sure what they combined into or how to counteract the effects. Minerva and I are especially working hard on it, though," Oliver said. "We're both fully aware of how likely it is that one of you will kill the other… but everyone's in on it, and Flitwick is wracking his brains. I'm sure we'll get it off soon… oh, have you guys heard the rumors that have been flying around?"

"Like what?" Harry asked.

"That Hermione dumped Ron for you, that she turned Malfoy into a pumpkin during a duel in the Great Hall, that she's killed Snape—"

"What?" Hermione exclaimed.

"Well, no one has seen him," Oliver said with a shrug, "and all anyone knows is that he showed up right after you two got hit by that curse, and now he's gone. There's all sorts of crazy gossip floating around—and the entire student body has somehow found out about your tattoo, Hermione—"

"WHAT?" Harry roared. Draco chuckled, an eager look on his face as he waited for the coming argument and the explanation as to just exactly how the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor knew about a tattoo on Hermione's ass. Everyone in the Great Hall turned to look at the group curiously.

Hermione and Oliver stared at each other in horror, Oliver blushing a bright red and Hermione unbelievably pale. Harry's eyes were wide with anger and disbelief; he was glaring at the back of Hermione's head.

"You didn't tell him?" Oliver asked Hermione faintly.

"Shut up!" Hermione hissed.

"Um… well, y-you see…" Oliver stammered. He gulped and rubbed the back of his neck. "It's, um… It's like this, Harry, uh… bye!"

And with that, Oliver jumped up from the table and ran out of the hall without a backwards glance.

Draco burst out into loud guffaws and Hermione stared after Oliver, not daring to face Harry and unable to believe that he'd abandoned her to deal with the mess he'd just caused. Pasting the best "I'm-your-best-friend-and-you-love-and-cherish-me" expression on her face that she could muster, she slowly turned back around.

"Well," Harry snarled when at last she was facing him. "Not only did you lie to me—but you showed him your ass?"

"SHH!" she hissed as whispers broke out all over the hall. "No, I… well, okay, I… Harry, please, don't… bye!" Deciding she might as well follow Oliver's example, she jumped up from the table, ran around to the other side where Draco sat, grabbed him by the back of the robes, and started to haul him out of the hall as fast as humanly possible.

"Oh no you don't!" Harry shouted, and raced off after the mortified Hermione and the laughing Draco.