Chapter Thirty-one

Blame It All on the Prank War

For a little while, it seemed that Harry and Draco were through fighting for the night. They were both quiet, and Hermione was able to drift off to sleep. However, not long after she'd started breathing regularly, Draco muttered, "This is all your fault."

"My fault?" Harry hissed incredulously.

Draco, whose main intention was to wake Hermione up rudely from her sleep (after all she'd put him through, she didn't deserve a good night's rest), glared over at Harry. "Yeah, you. If you hadn't started this mess—"

"ME? ME? You started this mess!" Harry snapped as loudly as he dared. "You, with that prank on Hermione!"

"If you weren't such an asshole, I never would have started it."

"I'm an asshole? Ha! You've never been anything but an asshole, and everyone in Hogwarts agrees."

"Oh, good comeback, Potter. Who taught you that? Weasel? Or that big oaf Hagrid?"

"Shut your mouth," Harry snarled, knowing Draco was just trying to bait him… but he'd been put through the ringer for the past few days because of Draco, and his patience was long gone.

"Why don't you make me, Potter?"

"Why don't you just jump off the astronomy tower, Malfoy?"

"Why don't I just push you off it?"

"I'd like to see you try."

"Once again, great comeback. Haven't heard that one since before I started Hogwarts."

"Why are you even still AT Hogwarts? Why couldn't you have just gone to jail or died like your loser father and the rest of the Death—"

"Why couldn't you have just died with your parents like you were supposed to?" Draco interrupted angrily.

Both of them had just been pushed over the edge; they each reached for their wands simultaneously, but Draco got there first. He started to call out a spell; in a last-ditch attempt to stop him, Harry threw his body to the side and hit the chain, yanking Draco to the ground. Draco's wand flew out of his hand; he hit the floor and reached for Harry's legs, trying to pull him down before Harry could get his own wand. Harry kicked him, as hard as he could with bare feet, and Draco yelped before grabbing Harry's foot and yanking. Harry flew backwards onto the bed, kicking Draco in the opposite direction as he went… so Hermione awoke to Harry landing painfully on her stomach and her left arm nearly being pulled out of its socket by Draco.

Hermione's eyes flew open, flashing with fury as Harry scrambled off of her. She drew her wand and hit them both with the Impediment Jinx, which was painful but not paralyzing. Both of them got back up fairly fast, looking at her warily.

"I'm not going to get yanked out of my bed every night," Hermione snarled. "From Cheese Spirit to shampoo, I've had a rough day, and you two are not going to make it any rougher!"

Hermione advanced, and the two boys quickly backed up accordingly, Draco more worried than Harry (as Draco didn't have seven years of friendship on his side—or the ability to move more than five feet away from her) but Hermione stopped once she was clear of the bed and turned around. She waved her wand and called out a levitation charm; Harry and Hermione's nightstand lifted high into the air and, with Hermione's wand directing it, settled on the other side of the bed. The same fate met Draco's nightstand, and another wave of her wand sent the two beds colliding with a loud crash. Lastly, she called out a warding spell, something Harry had seen her use several times when she wanted to ensure that she was the only one who could undo a spell.

"There," she said in satisfaction, and crawled back onto the bed, which was slightly more difficult without the space in the middle being there; the mattresses were pushed flush against each other. Considering the length of the chain, neither of them would be able to fall off either edge if they slept on opposite ends of the bed.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, staring at her in horror.

"I'm making sure I don't get yanked onto the floor anymore," Hermione said sleepily, already burrowing under the covers with her head on the pillow.

"I am NOT sleeping with the beds right next to each other," Harry said.

"Me either," Draco said, crossing his arms over his chest as best he could with the chain stretching out over the bed.

"Suit yourself," Hermione said, closing her eyes.

Harry glared at her, then brightened and looked at Draco. "Well, if you're not sleeping in there, then why should I care?" He grinned at Draco's furious expression. "Goodnight, Malfoy!"

Harry hopped onto the bed. Hermione opened her eyes just enough to look at Draco and smirk, and then both she and Harry attempted to sleep.

Draco considered making enough noise to keep them up all night, but he had no doubt that he'd end up paralyzed on the floor again; Harry and Hermione were both better at spells than he was, and short of hitting them in their sleep, he didn't see how he could get the drop on both of them at the same time, but they'd both be furious when they woke up (and therefore more dangerous). He didn't really see any way to hit them with anything gruesome without waking them up, and there was no point in knocking them out when they were already asleep… unless he went all out and killed them, but that would probably have serious repercussions; for some reason, the general populous actually wanted the two of them alive.

He sighed. He was tired, and short of sleeping standing up, he wasn't going to get any rest. He knew a few charms that might separate the beds again, but all of them would probably wake up Harry and Hermione, and Draco really wasn't up for a fight just then. There was no visible way to fix the bed situation without both of them attacking him, and Draco was too tired to think of one, anyway.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, sulking. It figured that they'd find a way to push him right out of his bed… but, really, why should he let them? Why should he have to lose sleep? It was his bed, and from what he'd seen, Harry and Hermione didn't roll around much in their sleep. He could probably just sleep down on the edge… and then both Gryffindors would see him in the morning and realize that they hadn't won after all. He wasn't going to let them push him around like this; and when they saw that Draco hadn't given up the bed entirely, they'd surely move the beds back apart, being as immature as they were.

"Right," Draco whispered to himself, and climbed onto the bed, as far away from Hermione and Harry as possible.

The next morning, Ginny trudged downstairs, dark circles under her eyes. She hadn't been able to get everyone to leave her alone for ages, and it was only after she'd actually used the Bat-Bogey Hex on Lavender Brown that the questions died down. Still, Ginny hadn't been able to sleep; her roommates' chattering had kept her awake, and when she'd finally slept her dreams had been completely bizarre. She dreamt she was back under McGonagall's desk with Snape, Oliver and McGonagall, and Ginny's roommates' gossip blended in to the dream, so the three professors all sounded like teenaged girls and discussed almost nothing but Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco. They kept asking her to eat lemon drops, too; somewhere around her fifth refusal, they'd started throwing large bags of lemon drops at her, and when she was nearly buried in them, the desk had exploded above them and she'd looked up to see Dumbledore standing above her, looking scarier than Voldemort ever had and screaming at her for stealing from him. Ginny had woken up with a yelp, cursed Harry and Hermione's existence, and tried to sleep again, only to dream about Snape some more. This time, he'd given her a Christmas sweater like the one she'd seen him wandering around in, and then told her that he needed her help to cut Draco's arm off and that she'd be expelled if she didn't do it and tried by the Ministry and sentenced to wearing the sweater for the rest of her life should she be found guilty.

Needless to say, she'd given up on sleep after that.

She was incredibly tired, but at least she'd gotten in some last-minute studying; she was a little worried about the lack of study time she'd had in the past few weeks, but she fairly certain she could scrape a passing grade. She was really more worried about the lemon drop thing; surely Dumbledore wasn't REALLY after McGonagall, Wood and Snape, was he? No, of course not. He would have already caught them… right?

Ginny did her best not to think about it as she headed down to Hermione's room, figuring she'd just hide in there for as long as possible before sneaking down to the kitchens to breakfast. Since Hermione's Quidditch practice, a lot of rumors had been flying about Hermione and Snape… and thirty-one Gryffindors knowing that Ginny had sat around at least one "campfire" with Snape wasn't going to make her life very easy.

She was almost to the bottom of the girls' dormitory staircases when a long, horrified shriek cut through the early morning stillness like a samurai sword; she nearly fell down the remaining steps in shock. She recognized the scream immediately from the previous day—Malfoy. Another, deeper yell—Harry's voice, she was sure of it—added to the noise. Whatever it was had to be major; they both sounded absolutely panicked.

She could hear people waking up with startled yelps all around her; the sound was echoing around Gryffindor Tower and probably half the seventh floor. Ginny steadied herself on the stairs and ran for Hermione's room, praying that her friends were okay.

Draco awoke quite suddenly, so suddenly that he wasn't sure what the cause was. Something caught his eye and he turned his head to the right… to see Hermione, kneeling beside him.

"About time," she said, smiling at him in a distinctively suggestive way. "I've been waiting ages for you to wake up."

"Why didn't you just yell or something?" he asked, regarding her warily.

"You looked so cute in your sleep," she said, her smile widening.

Draco swallowed, wondering if this was some sort of prank, or if she'd been cursed somehow… and hoping fervently that he was imagining things.

"Where's Potter?" he blurted out, knowing that Harry should be freaking out right now if Hermione was acting the way Draco thought she was.

"I asked him to leave."

"You… why?" Draco demanded, feeling a jolt of panic.

"Because I want to be alone with you," she said, trailing a finger along his jaw line and down his neck.

"Why?" Draco asked in a high-pitched voice that sounded more like a squeak. His every instinct was screaming at him to run, but he couldn't seem to move.

"I want to tell you a secret," she said, lowering her voice to a whisper. Her hand kept moving lower down his chest, very slowly, her touch feather-light.

"What?" Draco choked out. RUN! RUN RUN RUN! his brain screamed at him.

Hermione leaned down and put her mouth very close to his ear… too close. Far too close. "You were right. I can get the chain off."

"W-wha… you… how… you can?" Draco stammered, his brain refusing to process this.

"I just don't want to," she continued.

"You like chains, do you?" he said, then cursed himself; that was NOT the right thing to say at a moment like this. She was coming on to him! WHAT WAS GOING ON?

Hermione giggled. "Well, that… and you."

"Me?"

Hermione pulled back, staring down at him. "Oh, the look on your face," she said in amusement. "All shocked and fearful…" A mischievous glint appeared in her eye. "I'll help you relax, though, don't worry."

RUN YOU STUPID IDIOT! his brain shouted, but Draco was still frozen in place. The commands to run were now warring with the phrase "Granger's seducing me, Granger's seducing me," which kept repeating in his head like a mantra.

Hermione started to lean towards him, her lips parted and her eyes closing. Sheer terror fought with anticipation and excitement… he wanted her to do it, but he hated her, yes, he hated her, he hated her…

"ARGH! NO!"

Draco's entire body jerked and his eyes flew open. Hermione was gone.

A dream, Draco thought happily, relief flooding him as he closed his eyes again. It was all just a dream. Granger didn't try to kiss me. In fact, I'm not chained to her. I'm in my own bed, and the prank war never happened. I'm in the Slytherin dorm… and apparently there's someone with me, so it must have been a great night last night…

Draco shifted a little; someone was curled up around him, undoubtedly someone he'd been getting drunk with last night; his head hurt rather badly, and he felt like he had a few bruises… so all signs pointed to him getting trashed. Strange; he rarely let himself get drunk enough that he would wake up hung over with no memory of the previous night, but there was no other explanation—

"Hermione, stop moving," mumbled a decidedly masculine voice.

Harry Potter's voice.

Draco opened his eyes and turned to look at his companion. Apparently, the prank war really had happened. He was really chained to Hermione. His head hurt and his body was bruised for many reasons, one of which was that Hermione had bashed him in the head with Oliver's broom and Harry had whacked him with a shampoo bottle.

But more importantly, Harry was cuddled up against him.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Harry jerked awake. His head wasn't on one of his best friends' stomachs… but his worst enemy's chest.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"What's wrong? What's happening?" Hermione was now awake, her wand drawn, Harry's wand in her free hand and extended towards him, but he wasn't exactly paying attention. Harry had sat up, as had Draco, and they were both just screaming in each other's faces; she couldn't see what the problem was.

Harry dove off the bed, still screaming, and ran like a lunatic for the bathroom. A moment later, the sound of violent puking replaced his mortified shouting.

"Harry!" Hermione yelled, trying to follow him but only able to get to the foot of the bed because of the chain; she tried yanking on it, but Draco refused to move, still screaming in complete terror. "HARRY! Are you okay?"

The door burst open just then, and Ginny rushed in, looking frightened. "What's going on?" she gasped.

"Help Harry!" Hermione shrieked, tossing her Harry's wand and gesturing towards the bathroom. Ginny nodded and dashed for the bathroom… leaving the bedroom door open.

"Hermione! What…"

Hermione turned; the Weasley twins had just arrived, and most of the residents of Gryffindor Tower were right on their heels. Hermione opened her mouth, then closed it hopelessly, having no idea what was going on.

"What's wrong?" called an urgent voice, and Ron burst through the crowd, looking beyond worried.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, relieved. "Harry… Malfoy… they both just started screaming! I don't—"

"Where's Harry?" Ron demanded.

"Bathroom, I think he's—"

Ginny ran back out of the bathroom, looking green. "I love you, Herm, but I can't watch Harry puke much longer. It's disgusting."

"What's wrong with him?" Hermione asked, raising her voice even more to be heard over Draco's continuous screaming.

"If he ever stops puking, I'll ask him," Ginny said crossly.

"Out of my way," Ron said, and pushed past her into the bathroom.

Hermione grabbed the chain and gave it a strong yank as discreetly as she could, but to no avail; Draco didn't move, nor did he shut up. "Silencio!" she yelled in exasperation, but Draco continued to screech, his mouth gaping open in a silent scream.

Hermione sighed, thankful that she couldn't hear him… though the sound was replaced by Harry's retching and Ron muttering something. Before she could decide if this was a good thing or a bad thing, Parvati Patil, who was peering between the twins, decided to make matters worse.

"So you DO have to share a bed with Malfoy!"

Hermione rounded on her. "Get. OUT!" she growled through gritted teeth, her eyes flashing.

"Go on, guys," said George, turning around and shooing away the ones who hadn't immediately run for it. "There's nothing to see here."

"Are you okay?" Fred asked, stepping towards Hermione.

"I'd be a lot better if life wasn't so damned strange," she muttered. Yanking on the chain again fruitlessly, Hermione looked over at him. "What was with you guys yesterday, anyway? Something about Snape and singing?"

Fred's expression became stony. "You, of all people, should know better than to mess with us and then act all innocent afterwards."

Hermione sighed and threw up her hands. "Fine. Don't believe me. The idea that I sent Snape to sing at you make so much more sense."

"This is a prank war, Hermione," Fred told her sharply. "We're the best pranksters Hogwarts has ever seen, and after that little stunt you pulled yesterday, we're on Ron's side."

"The prank war," Hermione said bitterly. "Could you be any more juvenile?"

"This from the girl who tied Malfoy to the goalpost in women's underwear," George retorted pointedly.

"You know what?" Hermione snapped. "I don't care what you do. I'll kick your ass, do you understand me? I don't know what you think I did, but if I were going to prank you, you'd know it and I wouldn't pretend I hadn't. You are the ones who will make the first move, and when you do, expect some major payback."

"Just try it, little girl," Fred said coldly, and he and George turned and left.

Hermione sighed, realizing that she'd just made life a lot worse for herself but not really caring. She was tired, she was unable to leave the presence of her least favorite classmate, and ever minute of every day seemed to bring some new problem. Part of her hoped the twins would try something… just so she could release a little anger.

Ginny stood up and sighed, glancing from the door to Hermione and back again. "Listen… I really don't want to go back out there, but if you want me to talk to them…"

"Gin, don't suffer anymore at my expense," Hermione said wearily. "If you want to, go for it, but I'm not going to ask you to stick your neck out further."

Ginny smiled. "Hey, what are friends for?" she said. She left as well, leaving Hermione alone with the silently screaming Draco.

"Harry, come on," Ron said in exasperation as Harry continued to heave. "What the hell did you do, eat raw hippogriff?"

"Worse," Harry choked out.

"What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry said glumly.

Ron sat back on his heels. "Harry…" he began slowly.

"Ron, listen," Harry said quickly, "don't storm out on us. We need you. We're your friends. Hermione's your girlfriend. We've been through a lot together. I've tried, but I can't do this alone. Malfoy's driving me mad, and there's all these new problems… it's not supposed to be Hermione and Harry. It's supposed to be Ron, Hermione and Harry."

Ron's face clouded. "You're right, Harry. It's supposed to be. But it isn't. You and Hermione are keeping things from me—things that you don't even keep from Ginny and the twins! And she's cheating on me—"

"You know she wouldn't do that," Harry said hotly, standing up and going to the sink to brush his teeth.

"Yeah? Then what's this about hickeys, huh? She's been alone in Snape's office, doing god-knows-what—"

"Playing a prank on Malfoy, that's what!" Harry insisted.

"Yeah? She and Snape are pretty friendly though, aren't they? And they practically attacked me and Fred and George yesterday, Snape and Wood. Her ex that she never bothered to tell me about. That you never bothered to tell me about. And Snape, I don't even know where to start—"

"Ron, the whole school has lost its mind! Why would Wood and Snape do anything together? Especially if they're both supposedly mad about Hermione? Snape's been singing and dancing all over Hogwarts. He's wearing color. And Wood was never entirely sane, either; you remember what I told you about him as Quidditch captain! If you would just stop being stupid and open your eyes—"

Ron tensed and Harry cringed, knowing that he'd said the wrong thing. "I didn't mean it like that," Harry said hastily.

"You didn't?" Ron said coldly.

"No, I—"

"Have a nice life with Hermione, Harry," Ron snarled. "Maybe Snape will let you be the best man."

With that, he stomped out of the bathroom.

Hermione sat down on the edge of the bed, wondering what was going on in the bathroom. Harry and Ron seemed to be talking right now, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. She hoped it was something good.

A few seconds later, Ron came out of the bathroom, and her heart sank. He looked ready to kill someone.

"Ron…" she began, and he stopped and turned to look at her. She hastily jumped off the bed… then wished she hadn't, as it made her look rather guilty.

Ron glared at her, then turned to look at Draco, who was still screaming silently. Ron's eyes swept over the bed, then around the room, as if he were looking for something. Hermione realized suddenly how bad it must look; Ron wasn't going to give her time to explain just why she'd pushed the beds together, and from the lack of pillows and blankets anywhere but the bed, it was obvious that the three of them had been sharing… which, she had to admit, looked very, very odd.

"So… you're sharing a bed with Malfoy too now?" Ron said in a carefully controlled voice. "And Harry too, right? Well—"

"Ron! You know perfectly well that I am NOT doing anything with Harry or Malfoy or Snape—"

"No," Ron said bluntly, "I don't. I wouldn't have thought you'd do it before. Now, I'm barely surprised."

"You know me, Ron. You know I'm not like that."

"Maybe I would know you, if you weren't always lying," Ron snapped, and marched away. Hermione tried to follow him, but Draco still wouldn't move.

Suddenly, her hurt was replaced by anger. She needed Ron, and she'd never meant to hurt Ron, and she really couldn't be brought to believe that she'd done anything wrong. Oliver and the tattoo were none of Ron's business, and Ron had no right to jump to conclusions. Snape… well, it wasn't like she'd been cheating. It was just something she'd thought was necessary to freak Draco out. But Ron wouldn't even listen. He didn't care that she needed him, that she was trying to cope with Draco and help Harry through this vision thing… in fact, when had he ever given her needs a second thought?

"Fine, Ron!" Hermione shouted after him. "Go ahead! Leave!"

Ron paused with his hand on the doorknob and Hermione kept yelling. "I don't know what you want me to do, but if you won't even let me explain, then go! Stick your head back up your ass and wander around like the oblivious little git you are!"

Ron whirled back around to face her, his face and ears an ugly red. "We're going to get you," he spat. "Me and the twins."

"Go ahead, you stupid prat!" she shrieked.

Ron's eyes widened and he took a step forward, raising his arms a little with his fingers curled as though the thought of strangling her was becoming irresistible. With some difficulty, he turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him so hard that the room seemed to shake.

Hermione took a deep, shuddering breath… then turned away and Summoned her trunk to her side. She dug out her robes, her hands shaking with fury.

"Well, that didn't go well," Harry mumbled, emerging from the bathroom.

"I'm gonna kick his ass," Hermione growled. "You know what, Harry? Ron doesn't deserve me. He's a Quidditch-obsessed, self-absorbed idiot—"

"Please, don't continue this list," Harry interrupted quickly. Then he frowned. "Hey! What's wrong with being Quidditch-obsessed?"

"I'll make him pay for this," Hermione went on, ignoring him. "Leaving me—and you!—alone to deal with Malfoy and visions… we're supposed to be a team, Harry, but no, I guess he wasn't in it for the friendship—"

"Hermione…"

"But he doesn't deserve me, Harry! I'm smart, I'm pretty, I can function in the wizarding and Muggle worlds, I can speak three languages, I know more spells than half the school combined and I can use the telephone!"

"…You realize you're raving, right?"

Hermione ignored him. "I'm going to get him… we're going to get him… me and Harry, knock Ron out…" She finished assembling the day's outfit and started changing; Harry turned his back. "Who would know more about getting to Ron than his best friends? No one! Oh, and we'll have Ginny, that girl's quite scary sometimes… and we can blame it all on THE PRANK WAR!"

Hermione let out a distinctly evil laugh and Harry couldn't help but wonder, once again, at the strangeness of his life recently. He'd never exactly been normal, but he'd come to expect certain things—Snape was a prick, Hermione was sane, Ron was his friend, the twins weren't affronted by singing, Oliver was just a Quidditch-loving teacher and Draco stayed in his own common room, only coming out to make idle threats and bad insults. Now, since the beginning of the prank war, everything had changed.

How did this tradition survive? Harry wondered, sitting on the edge of the bed wearily. Did my parents and Sirius go through this? Was it this much of a freak show for the Marauders and my mum?

He realized he'd stopped paying attention to Hermione when she leaped in front of him, fully dressed but with her uncombed bushy hair sticking out in all directions and a crazed expression on her face. "Come on, Harry! Get dressed! We have to plan our war!"

Harry couldn't help but grin at her. She looked so… so adorable, like a little puppy that was delusional enough to think it was tough enough to take on the world.

"Right," Harry said. "You calm Malfoy down, I'll get dressed, then we'll plan the war on the way to finding Snape. We need his help."

"Excellent idea, Harry! He'll be a great asset in the prank war!"

Harry watched her as she tried to go smack some sense (literally) into Draco. So this was it—he was now destined to fight against his best friend and the Weasley twins with Hermione at his side, while seeking Snape's help for the visions and maybe enlisting him to pull a prank or two. While this should have made him feel quite unhappy, he suddenly could no longer be brought to care.

"Just another normal fun-filled day," he muttered, and went to go get dressed.