The Harry Potter universe and all its characters are the sole property of J. K. Rowling. By using them below, I am in no way claiming ownership.
The victims had been numerous, Madam Pomfrey's sick ward overflowing with students. Admittedly, most of the injuries were minor, but until the culprit had been found, all those who had come into physical contact with the flowers were being kept for observation. While it seemed unlikely that anyone with serious malicious intent would have flower-bombed the school, the teachers were inclined to being overprotective, especially since Harry's first ordeal in the Triwizard tournament. Professor McGonagall was interrogating Fred and George Weasley at that very moment, immediately suspecting the twins of instigating such mayhem.
The few remaining students who weren't confined to gurneys had been consigned to the clean-up effort, stuffing the flowery detritus into grey sacks for disposal. Ron had been annoyed at having his breakfast interrupted and had christened the event 'the War of the Roses.' That was, until Ginny pointed out that the majority of the packages had been other flowers, sending Ron back to his dormitory in a sulk.
'Do you think Fred and George did this?' Hermione asked, pushing a handful of lillies into her bag.
'I'm not sure it's quite their style,' Ginny replied, tying off her own sack. She grimaced, trying to suppress a sneeze. 'Are you nearly done? This room is setting off my allergies.'
'Sure,' Hermione picked up another sunflower and added it to her bag, then tied it off. The two girls exited the great hall, dragging bags of wilting flowers behind them. They had been ordered to leave all collected refuse in the central courtyard, so Hagrid might compost their contents.
The corridors were filled with loitering students, many moving between the great hall and the courtyard at a snail's pace in an attempt to shirk their cleaning duties. Some of the cockier students, particularly the Slytherins, were not even making an effort to look busy - they simply milled around the foyer doorway, making snide comments to one another. The mountain of collected bags lay only a few steps outside of the main entrance, and the pair deposited their bags gladly.
'How is Neville taking it?' Hermione asked, deliberately avoiding the gaze of Blaise Zabini. Ginny brushed the pollen from her hands.
'I don't know. Hagrid had to drag him out from under that table. Hermione...' Ginny pulled her robe, dragging her to a far corner. 'Can we take a break? I smell like I've drowned myself in perfume, and I must've caught myself on a thousand thorns...'
'If we don't keep going, there won't be a hall for Ron to have his dinner.' Hermione replied, making Ginny frown.
'I'm sure you could get Dobby to send some sandwiches up to him.'
'Dobby is not Ron's slave.'
'I know, I know. He just knows where the kitchen is. I didn't say he had to make the sandwiches.' Ginny sighed, noticing the lily stains on her sleeves. 'My robes are a mess, and no-one else here is helping.' Hermione extracted her wand and muttered a quick incantation, the fluff and pollen falling away from the young Weasley's robes. Ginny opened her mouth to thank her, but was cut off by the sound of pomp and ceremony.
Draco had appeared in the doorway of the main entrance, still clad in his ball attire from the night before. The white and silver costume was blinding in the sunlight, and cast fragments of light onto his Slytherin friends, like a human glitter-ball. They all looked at him in confusion, but he only had eyes for the two witches on the opposite side of the courtyard. He took a few steps down onto the cobbles, a small group of first years with musical instruments trailing behind him. Their entrance song quickly shifted to something more modern, moving into the chorus of the Weird Sister's 'Loving Fields,' a song Hermione was only familiar with through Ginny's incessant playing of the track. Draco smiled across at her, blowing a kiss in their direction.
'Oh, won't you come down to the loving fields with me...' He began to croon. The other students in the courtyard, who had only been mildly intrigued by this turn of events, were now watching Draco with uncertainty. Ginny herself was caught between horror and amusement, biting her lip in anticipation of either emotion's dominance.
'Oh, my love, let's go down to the fields.' Draco did a quick twirl in time with the rhythm, then slid sideways towards them. He fell onto his knees, pulling a clenched fist down slowly, in time with his decreasing timbre. 'Uh-woah, you're gonna go down!'
Ginny noticed the expression of horror on the other students' faces, particularly the Syltherins, and let out a cross between a giggle and a shriek. As her outburst faded, the courtyard became quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Crabbe, one of the dimmer Slytherins, started to slowly clap until Blaise's glare stopped him. The other loitering students began to giggle and gossip behind their hands, watching for Hermione's response. The young witch felt a blush rising in her cheeks while Draco waited eagerly at her feet.
'My love...' he prompted. He's mocking me. In front of the entire school! Mocking me!
She slapped him hard, the resulting crack bouncing off the surrounding walls. This was enough to silence even the most amused students. Draco looked back up at her from the cobbles, holding his cheek. Hermione didn't wait for a response but stormed out of the courtyard, Ginny desperately trying to keep up with her.