The Harry Potter universe and its characters are the sole property of J. K. Rowling. By using them below, I am in no way trying to claim ownership.

'That was, ah, interesting?' Ginny suggested from the tweed armchair in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione paced backwards and forwards in front of her, still seething from Draco's serenade.

'I can't believe it,' she shrieked between gritted teeth, her hands emphasising her horror.

'Hermione, you're bleeding.' Hermione sat down on the adjacent sofa and examined her palms. The hand that had slapped Draco was lightly covered with small scratches. Leaning closer, she used her fingernails to extract a tiny glass shard from one of the cuts, and held it up to show Ginny.

'How did that get there?' She wondered aloud.

'It serves you right for slapping him.'

'Well...' Hermione grimaced. 'I suppose I did react rather immaturely. But the way he thinks he can treat me! You've seen how he's been acting?' Ginny sat silent, her hands folded in her lap. 'Ginny?' Hermione pleaded. 'You can't say he didn't deserve it.'

'I didn't have you down as the jealous type, Hermione.' Ginny stood up from her seat. 'You may not approve of him, but our love is a true bond. A secret connection that until now was only communicated in looks and glances. He's finally taken the effort to prove his love for me.'

'... what?' Hermione was confused.

'Each one of those flowers was a forbidden kiss to me, each one proving his love further.' The young Weasley held a hand over her heart and sighed wistfully. 'He serenaded me with my favourite song. He has such a lovely singing voice.'

'... You're joking. You're not serious.'

'I wouldn't expect you to understand.' Ginny glared at her once-friend. 'He loves me.' She began to twirl around the room, her hands still clasped above her heart, humming the Weird Sisters. Hermione was flummoxed. 'Soon we'll be together forever,' Ginny suddenly sung.

'No, you won't!' Hermione pushed herself up from the sofa and stared at her friend. 'He wasn't serenading you. Any history you think you have, Ginny, it's in your head.'

'You're just jealous.'

'Ginny, you've never even kissed him. I have, many times.' Ginny paused in her twirl, her eyes filling up with tears. 'I've made out with him more times than he's even spoken to you, Ginny, and those flowers and that song were for me!' The ferocity of her outburst surprised her, and she wondered why she was defending Draco's opinion of herself so fiercely. Ginny let out a sob and ran up the stairs to the girls dormitory. Abandoned, Hermione sat back down in front of the fire with a sigh. What in the hell was going on here?

The library was reasonably quiet, with most students still being held at the infirmary or helping in the clean-up effort. Draco was proud of himself for having avoided either situations after the flower incident, and had been keen at work in his potions homework for Professor Snape. He signed his name to the bottom of the essay with a flourish, then began to pack up his belongings.

He encountered the Weasley twins lingering outside the third aisle. He had barely even registered them, but upon spying him, they looked at one another gleefully. 'Ah, if it isn't the prima donna,' Fred chuckled, moving his arm around Draco's shoulders.

'No, no, dearest Fred. Prima Donna is the female singer.' George moved his arm around Draco's shoulder from the opposite side, pulling him to a halt.

'I know what I said, George.' Draco pushed the brothers away and turned to glare at them. George smirked, raising his eyebrows.

'Who are you going to go down on, Malfoy?' George asked. 'I can't remember.'

'Oh, I thought he was telling someone to go down on him.'

'What are you two idiots talking about?' Draco demanded.

'Why, your serenade in the courtyard earlier.' George answered.

'Perhaps we should recreate the event and spark his memory, dear brother?'

'Only if I get to play the terrified young witch of your affections,' George replied with a grin.

'I wouldn't have it any other way.' Fred puffed out his chest and pulled a duck-faced pout, then bellowed,

'Come down to the loving fields, my love!'

The outburst caught the attention of the few other students in the library. Draco, utterly confused, began to walk away from the twins, but Fred and George followed him eagerly.

'Oh, my love, my love,' Fred sung in a deep baritone.

'To the loving fields, go down baby,' George followed, trying to achieve an even deeper voice.

'For the last time, what are you talking about!?' Draco snapped, chucking his books on the nearest table. Fred frowned at his brother and began to stroke his chin, while George pursed his lips.

'I think that slap from Hermione must have been harder than we thought.' Fred suggested.

'I think you're right, brother.' George agreed.

'Amnesia,' the two twins answered in unison.

'You're both mental,' Draco shook his head and walked away, deciding to abandon his books. What in the hell is going on?