"George?"
Hermione sounded surprised when Harry told her about his afternoon. But really, it was only fair. After all, he'd been surprised to find her snogging Millicent Bulstrode in a darkened corner of the library when he'd gotten back from Hogsmeade. She was "just trying it out," she said, and "certainly wouldn't be doing it again."
It had been a pretty weird day in general. Harry and Hermione were in the common room, and all manner of debauchery was going on around them. Seamus and Dean had found some firewhiskey somewhere, and they were sharing it with Parvati and Lavender; every now and then, one member of the private party would kiss another, regardless of gender. Dennis Creevey and a third year girl appeared to be smoking something, though Harry couldn't identify what, and Neville was flat on his back with Luna on top of him, in the throes of a passionate make out session.
"Never mind me and George. What the hell is going on, Hermione?" Harry asked. "Did they all read the stuff?"
Hermione nodded, looking miserable. "I didn't want them to. But Dean borrowed my computer to check his e-mail, and he happened to see a story about Remus and Sirius—"
"What?"
"And then he started clicking around, and before I knew it, he and Parvati were going at it like Professor Snape and Lucius Malfoy."
"Snape and Malfoy's—"
"Then Parvati told Lavender, and Lavender told Seamus, and Seamus told Neville, and Neville told Luna, and now, there's all of this."
"And Millicent?"
"No, she just seemed to want to ... experiment," said Hermione, blushing. "So, when are you going to tell the other Weasleys?"
"Tell them what?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Tell them the nature of your relationship with their dearest older brother."
"Oh. Right. Dunno. Where are Ginny and Ron, anyway?"
"Ron didn't show up for any classes today, but he came here around lunch to get—something, I don't know, he said it was in his room, and I haven't seen him since," Hermione said, sounding huffy. "Ginny, I think she was going down to Hagrid's. Arnold's been sick, and she thought he might be able to help."
Seamus and company staggered by on their way to God knows where. "Thank you, Hermione," Seamus said in a strangled voice as they went. Hermione just pursed her lips and shook her head.
"I've got to stop this, Harry," she said, sounding strained.
"Why? I think it's actually pretty funny."
"Well, yes, it was all a laugh at the beginning, wasn't it? But now, there are foursomes and snogging and what very well might be crack cocaine."
"Maybe a bit of chaos is what we need around here," said Harry, trying to find a silver lining for Hermione.
"What the ruddy hell does that even mean?" she hissed.
"Right. Well, guess I'm not helping you much." He rose.
"Don't leave, Harry. Just be as normal as you can for me. Please?"
"Fine." Harry sat back down. "Just because you're so pathetic."
Ginny came up then, wearing something mostly sheer and significantly more made up than usual. "Ready for bed, Hermione?" she asked in a voice that Harry could only describe as seductive.
Hermione's face reddened as she said, "Yes. Bed. For sleeping. In our pajamas. Our long-sleeved, long-panted pajamas. With button closures."
"Are you finished?" Ginny sounded impatient.
"Yes. Well, goodnight, Harry." The girls went up to their room together, leaving Harry alone, with the exception of drugged up Dennis Creevey and friend and Neville and Luna, still at it on the carpet.
Really, if he thought about it, he and George being paired off was pretty normal, in comparison to some of these other situations. Neville and Luna, OK, maybe that made some sense. But Draco and Ron, hanging about in the Slytherin common room or some other unknown crevice of the castle? And Hermione and Ginny, doing something that Harry strongly suspected had nothing to do with sleeping? All Harry had done was kiss a boy of whom he'd always been quite fond. In comparison to smoking crack and lingerie, that was nothing.
Unable to think of anything better to do, Harry went to his own room. He was, of course, the only one there, as Seamus, Dean, and Neville were all otherwise occupied, and Ron's whereabouts remained a mystery. But he wasn't completely alone, he noticed. A coal black owl was standing on his bedpost, head slightly cocked, a letter in its beak.
"Oh. Hi," said Harry, going to Ron's trunk and taking out a bottle of Owl Treats. The anonymous bird graciously accepted the treats after dropping the letter into Harry's open hand. Harry opened the letter, not too surprised by the identity of the sender.
Had a lovely time today. Miss you already, but not too much. Don't get an ego, git. Have things gotten any weirder around there? Want to have lunch again tomorrow? Play your cards right, I might even kiss your neck this time.
-George
Harry fell asleep with a grin on his face.
A/N: If you missed any trace of humor in the previous, super goopy chapter, here's a bit for you. Even I chuckled a bit at "what very well might be crack cocaine."