Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Authors note: Uh oh, we're getting close to the cut off where I'm still writing and editing! That also means we're getting close to slash and exciting things of that nature.

Warning: Errr, cursing, some exuberant fourth years, and that is it I think.

Adrian Pucey - Phobos

Liam Baddock - Deimos

Theodor Nott – Oberon

Draco Malfoy – Chaos

Vincent Crabbe - Moros

Gregory Goyle - Pallas

Blaise Zabini – Pan

Pansy Parkinson - Nyx

Daphne Greengrass - Hebe

Morag Macdougal – Nike

Millicent Bulstrode - Cerberus

Elijah Harper - Cratos

Anthony Vaisey - Tyche

Malcolm Baddock – Hecate

Astoria Greengrass - Eris

Flora Carrow - Nemisis

Hestia Carrow – Hypnos

Ginny Weasley – Tartarus

Seamus Finnegan – Hyperion

Neville Longbottom - Chiron

Dean Thomas – Prometheus

Demelza something or other - Selene

Anthony Goldstien - Styx

Terry Boot - Perses

Zacharias Smith - Chronos

Kevin Entwhistle - Pontus

Jack Sloper – Morpheus

Ritchie Coote - Erebos

Colin Creevey - Metis

Dennis Creevey - Eos

Mandy Brocklehurst – Leto

Michael Corner – Charon

Stephen Cornfoot - Atlas

Orla Quirke - Lamia

Ernie Macmillan –Minos

Sally-Anne Perks – Aether

Draco woke up, and his head was pounding, and his mouth was dry, and all he could think about was how if felt like all his joints were filled with sand instead of anything useful. He groaned, and rolled over, burrowing under his pillow. He heard a small snort, and someone poked him.

He raised his head, and cracked one eye, to see Bla-Pan tugging at the blankets, trying to get some back.

"Get your own bed," he croaked, cocooning himself and giving Pan the best one eyed glare he could.

"First off, there are Gryffindors in my bed. Second, wake up, your weird little bird is here and biting anyone who tries to pick it up."

Draco whined, but allowed his pillow to be pulled off his head, and he sat up, after great effort. He whistled, though the effort of whistling through chapped lips nearly killed him, he felt. The small zooming bird darted in, too bright in the dark, warm room. He opened his palm, and the little animal dropped its note, then settled on Draco's shoulder to groom him.

Need a distraction at the place you indicated. Sundown?

Draco sighed, and looked up at Blaise, who rolled his eyes, and rummaged around on one of the desks that had been converted into a table/shelf. Blai-Pan handed him the rather shabby quill, and Draco responded, in what he felt was a typical response one might expect from him.

Then, Draco handed off his note, scribbled on the back of the delivered note, and burrowed back under his covers. Pan rolled his eyes, and crouched next to Draco, poking him. Draco whined, and wiggled further under the covers.

"Chaaaaoooossss."

"Sweet Merlin woman, go back to sleep, some of us drank more alcohol than should have been allowed."

"I told you, there are Gryffindors in my bed," Pan intoned, in an uncharacteristically whiny tone of voice. He shoved Draco over and settled down in the warm spot, tugging on the blankets that Draco had wrapped around him, cocoon style. Draco sighed, and allowed a small amount of covers to be sequestered away from him. Pan got funny about this sort of thing, when he'd had any alcohol he was suddenly a whiny, cuddly Hufflepuff with whoever happened to be about. Draco rolled his eyes, but let his bizarre friend edge his way onto his pillow and wriggle under Draco's blanket. Draco grumbled, and rearranged himself, but drifted back into sleep.

"Dad Dad dad dad dad dad, WAKE UP, see what I did!" Draco felt himself cruelly rattled awake by a pounce. He kicked, and tried to roll away from whatever sugar addled fool was bothering him, but he barreled into Pan's enormous, hulking sleeping form, blocking all exits.

Draco took a deep breath and sat up, narrowing his eyes at the tiny and bouncing blonde boy. "Good lord, Hec, go and fetch me my juice of the muggle gods, or coffee, or anything with caffeine, but if you try and bring me tea so help me Merlin, I will murder you." The small boy bounded off, his absurd amounts of energy vibrating along after him. Draco blinked blearily, and shoved Pan awake rudely.

"Get up. Get up get up get up. I'm up, go invade Oberon's bed, or Nike, or someone else who isn't me."

Pan groaned, eyes still shut, and curled away from Draco's shove. Draco kicked and pushed, although he knew it was childish, he liked other people to be awake once he was awake. He pushed and rolled until Pan was sprawled on the floor, then Draco dragged his pillow out of the half asleep boys grasp and yanked his blanket off of him, before settling back on his mattress, greeting tiny Hec with outstretched hands, grabbing at the mug of coffee, happily drinking it down. Hecate bounced impatiently at the edge of his bed, eyes bright and wild, from the poor lads over exposure to Nemisis's particular brand of insanity.

Draco finished his coffee in moments, and then sighed. "All right, little heathen, what do you want from me?"

The boy brightened, and then took in a deep breath, closing his eyes, and began to shift. He shrank, growing furrier, and eventually a small, masked creature tilted its head at him, bright eyes vivid. Draco laughed and nodded, smiling ruefully. "I've been an awful influence on you children, you know it is a crime to be an unregistered animagus, right?"

"We're all all over ourselves to be just like you, Pop."

Draco rolled his eyes at Tartarus, as she leaned down, and affectionately picked up the small raccoon, who docilely allowed itself to be picked up like a stuffed animal.

"Insolence from my own daughter, you wound me, freckles."

"Yeah well, you know. I live with the disappointment of my parents constantly," she said mildly, smiling. "Can I be next? I want to be next. I want to be something excellent, like a lion, or a tiger, or some kind of venomous snake, or maybe a porcupine, with poisonous quills, or-"

"Yes, yes, yes, something ferocious, message received."

Tartarus grinned and rolled her eyes at him, but carried the small raccoon formed Slytherin out of the older kids lair, back to where the younger lot had set up camp. Draco leaned back, stretching, glancing lazily over at poor Pan's form sprawled, still asleep on the ground. He frowned slightly, last night was a massive blur, how had they ended up in bed? He hoped it wasn't a repeat of last summer, or Pansy would pee on herself with laughter, which might get messy. He sighed, and got up, cracking his back, to go and try to figure out his deal with the Seeker.