Ok, this chapter is just a filler chapter, and an attempt at humour...(the first part anyway.) Sorry. But it's a quick update again! So, review!

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Draco was sitting in the library opposite Ron and Hermione contemplating the sheer unfairness that befouled his life. This was because he had noticed that Potter got away with a lot more than he did. For instance, he was now sitting in his chair with his feet propped up on the table, and Madam Pince wasn't giving him any crap for it. He had decided recently to see how much he could push it. So, he was leisurely reading a book, one of his own that Blaise had graciously retrieved for him, whilst the two Gryffindors he was forced to spend his time with, were slaving away over their homework. Sadly, he was subjected to hearing their bickering/love-fest/banter when all he wanted to slap them both with the book he was reading to get them to shut up. His inner turmoil was interrupted by another Weasley hurrying towards them.

"Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione," she repeated, keeping her voice quiet so she wouldn't get shouted at.

"What is it, Ginny?" Hermione asked, placing her quill neatly on the table.

Ginny seemed to quieten a bit, seeing who else happened to be sitting at the table.

"I need to talk to you," she said, sounding quite urgent.

Hermione nodded, "Alright. Ron, you'd better have written another paragraph by the time I get back."

Ron swallowed as his girlfriend and sister walked off. He turned to face the boy sitting opposite him, who had a smirk across his face, the only thing that told him that it was not really his best friend.

"Yes, Weasley. Be a good little bitch and finish your paragraph."

Ron gaped. "I am not Hermione's bitch!"

Draco scoffed and turned a page. "Please. You are completely and utterly whipped."

Ron made a frustrated noise, but not wanting to get into an argument to which Hermione could come back and hear, he went back to writing. He dropped his quill a few seconds later after that thought.

Draco snickered.

"Say, Malfoy?"

"Yes, Weasley?"

"Why aren't you doing any homework?"

"This is Potter's homework. I am not Potter, therefore, I am not obliged to do his homework. Do not attempt to find a fault in my logic."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

Draco kept his eyes on his book but held up three fingers, putting one down with each reason he spoke. "One, you'll find none. Two, I'm enjoying my book far too much to do any homework. Three, you're supposed to be writing your paragraph."

Suddenly there was a loud shout of "Potter!" which made Draco reflexively take his feet off of the table.

Draco whipped his head around to see Potter himself (well, Draco himself) striding towards him in quite a good impression (of course helped by the fact that he was in his body, but details aren't important.) He was also carrying Draco's bag. He slammed it in front of Draco and lowered his voice so only the people at the table would hear.

"Listen here. You are going to do your own sodding homework. I'm not you, so I shouldn't have to do it. I'll even do my own. Sound fair?"

Harry had an expression that warned Draco not to defy him. He nodded, and passed Harry his bag. Harry walked around the table and plonked himself into the empty seat next to Draco. Draco still looked a little shell-shocked from the whole thing. Harry glared at him.

"That Arithmancy won't do itself."

Draco hastily took the books out of his bag from the force of the glare he received. He smiled to himself thinking that that's how he must look all the time when he glared. He flipped open his Arithmancy book and began reading through Potter's unintelligible notes.

"Potter, I can't read this."

Harry turned to fix him with another glare. "You're in the library. Find a book to help you."

Draco was struck by the logical sense that it made. When he returned with an acceptable book, he saw that Weasley was smirking at him. Ron Weasley was smirking at him, a Malfoy. Malfoy's invented smirking.

"Now who's whipped?"

...

"HarryfanciesMalfoy!"

"Ginny, slow down," Hermione said.

"Harry fancies Malfoy," Ginny whispered, a little slower this time.

"I know he does."

"You do?"

"I figured it out after seeing him stare at him a few too many times to be platonic. Didn't you find out the same way?"

"No, I told Malfoy that Harry was gay as a joke, to see his reaction. Apparently I hit the nail on the head. Earlier Harry came to talk to me, all panicked about it, and told me that he had a crush."

Hermione grinned. "I kind of set up this whole thing to try to see if I could get them together."

"You...," she looked pressed to try and find the right words, "Slytherin."

"Nope, my Gryffindor sense of loyalty to help my friend find true love. Not that you have a problem with Slytherins, right Gin? You and Harry seem to have that in common..."

Ginny blushed as red as her hair, but smiled.

"Do you have a matchmaking scheme for me and him as well, Hermione?"

Hermione's smile grew even wider. "Already in motion."

She led the bewildered girl back to the table and found Harry sitting in the empty spot next to Draco.

"Hey Harry," Ginny smiled at him, and fought the urge not to smirk as he was sitting next to Draco and she knew. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello Ginny. I just came by to drop Malfoy some homework. I can't forge that girly handwriting."

"It's not girly, Potter," Draco interjected, his drawl sounding peculiar in Harry's voice, "It is elegant, neat and above all legible."

Harry stuck two fingers up at him. "At least I spend my time constructively, other than sitting at home practising my handwriting."

"Good penmanship is a sign of proper upbringing, Potter, which you so clearly lack."

Ginny bit her lip, waiting for Harry to start a rant about just because he was brought up by Muggles didn't make him inferior.

Harry paused. "You're right."

"What?"

"I didn't have a proper upbringing. My aunt and uncle weren't exactly fond of me. I lived in a cupboard until I was eleven."

Draco's mouth fell open. At the Manor, he could have had a room for every day of the week if he was so inclined. He felt a sudden rush of sympathy for his old enemy. He quickly shook it off.

"Probably why you're so short now. Being stuck in a cupboard must have stunted your growth."

Harry merely gave a shrug. "Maybe. It would be nice to have an excuse."

There was a silence between the five people.

"Well, I have to go now. See you around everyone," Harry said, before leaving abruptly, taking his own bag.

"Was it something I said?" Draco asked, perplexed about the change of mood.

"Harry is a bit funny about how he grew up, it verged on abuse," Hermione said diplomatically.

Draco's mind was suddenly full of images of his own father whacking him with his cane when he did something his father classed as undignified. He was suddenly filled with more sympathy for Harry.

What was going on with his brain?

ALL THE DEATHS ARE HEART BREAKING. I cannot name the saddest of them all...

Ok, shall we have a non-depressing question this time? Yes?

Who is your favourite character?