tw : sexual references that aren't very explicit

- I've had to change the title of this chapter because I can't translate it into English. In the original French version of my fanfiction, this chapter is called "la fouine et la fouineuse", because "fouine" is "a ferret" and "une fouineuse" is a person who snoops/who is curious. i hope the explanation is clear! happy reading everyone!

.

Draco

.
.

Draco hadn't seen Granger since the World Cup incident, and he wanted to see if she looked traumatised. He glanced discreetly out of the window. There she was, sitting on the bench with that pale-coloured blanket she carried everywhere. She was reading a book and seemed so immersed in it that she wasn't paying any attention to the conversations going on next to her.

He slid open the compartment door. When she saw him, Granger hid her face behind her book to ignore him.

Despite the taunts he hurled at Weasley, she remained unperturbed in front of her Charms book. Yet Draco knew that she was listening attentively to what he was saying. His aim was to get her to react, and he succeeded in doing so with a half-spoken reference to the Triwizard Tournament:

"Either explain what you're talking about or leave, Malfoy." she cut in her driest voice.

Draco was gloating. He knew he could make her talk, he knew she was curious to know. He could see that she was dying to ask him questions, but that she was holding back. It was so satisfying to see that he couldn't hide his smile:

"Don't tell me you don't know? Weasley, you have a father and brother who work at the Ministry and you don't even know? Merlin, my father told me about this ages ago... Cornelius Fudge told him. Of course, my father always deals with the highest representatives of the Ministry... Perhaps your father isn't high enough up to know about such things, Weasley... Yes, that must be it, they certainly don't discuss important matters in front of him..."

Draco burst out laughing and returned to the hallway with Crabbe and Goyle, but not without one last glance in Granger's direction. She had her eyebrows furrowed and was watching him leave with an ill-concealed curiosity.

He loved to see her react like that, especially when he had information she didn't have. He returned to his compartment, where the tense debate between Theo and Pansy was still going on. Draco ignored them, and thought back about Granger as he looked out the train window.

"Divination is a real subject!" Pansy snapped. "You don't know anything about it, you've never taken a single class! But I can tell you for a fact that every prophecy Trelawney has made since the beginning of the year has come true!"

"Oh, Pans', please." cut in Theo with a mocking laugh. "She's got you believing that by using plausible predictions, but they're just coincidences!"

"No, it's not! Stop it, you remind me of Granger!"

Draco lifted his cheek from the glass at this.

"Of Granger?" replied Theo, bewildered. "Why would you say that?"

"Because she stormed out of Divination class last year. She stopped because she didn't believe in it, like you. She'd even made a dramatic little scene to leave."

Pansy sighed, as if the mere mention of the memory annoyed her. Draco frowned. Granger, leaving a class? He couldn't imagine her doing that at all.

"Well then, Granger's right." Theo said. "It's not a branch of magic, it's junk. I can't believe you can believe this stuff."

Pansy slumped back against her bench seat, and after giving Theo one last defiant look, pulled the magazine up to her eye level to hide from him. Theo returned to his book, but seemed unfocused, constantly turning back to Pansy who was quietly reading.

Draco rested his head against the train window and thought about Granger. So she thought Divination was a silly subject? It was the first time he'd heard anything that might show Granger wasn't a fanatic about the school. He didn't think she could have the audacity to talk back to a teacher.

He continued to stare at the landscape as it flashed before him, imagining a rebellious Granger storming out of the Divination room, which made him smile in spite of himself.

.
.

Hermione

.
.

Ever since Dumbledore's speech, the atmosphere at Hogwarts had been completely different from what Hermione had known. Everyone, in the corridors, in the Great Hall, in class, in the Gryffindor Common Room, was talking about the Triwizard Tournament.

It had become the main topic of conversation since Dumbledore had announced it, and everyone was asking questions that had yet to be answered: What would the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons be like? Who would be voted Hogwarts Champion? What would the trials be?

Hermione was intrigued too. What's more, thinking about this future tournament had completely eclipsed the disaster that had occurred at the World Cup, and Hermione was delighted about that, because she had no desire to relive those painful moments.

.

.

.

.

Another thing that made life at Hogwarts better was her much lighter schedule. Now that she had given up Divination and Muggle Studies, Hermione was no longer swamped with work, which meant she had more free time. So she spent it devoting herself to her new passion: house elf law.

During the World Cup, Hermione had been outraged at the treatment of poor Winky, Barty Croupton Sr's house elf, and after having a lively debate with Percy on the subject, she had realised to her horror that all wizards treated all house elves in the same way - as slaves.

Despite reading so many books about the wizarding world, Hermione had never realised the injustice that these poor elves suffered. And now that she knew, she felt the need to free them, especially after learning that there were some at Hogwarts.

She spent all her free time during the first few weeks of Hogwarts in the Library, studying the rights of house elves. There weren't many books about them, as if no author had seen fit to include these creatures in their books. Even in Hogwarts: A History, Hermione's favourite, there was no mention of kitchen elves.

Hermione scoured every book she could find for information, with the help of Mrs. Pince. She spent entire evenings on the chair of her favourite table, reading and studying the law of magical creatures. Hermione soon realised that there was no law on the rights of elves, only on their duties.

Another change from the last few years at Hogwarts was that she was no longer the only one studying in the Library with such motivation. Another student sat at the table next to hers every evening. Draco Malfoy. He was often alone, and Hermione could have sworn he gave her discreet glances from time to time. But she wasn't interested in playing his game, too busy setting up S.P.E.W., her new association to combat the mistreatment of house elves.

On the third day, she returned from the Library with two scrolls of parchment research on house elves. When she arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady, she found poor Neville standing in front of it, having forgotten the password once again.

"Babbles?" he offered.

"No." replied the Fat Lady, annoyed.

"Biscuit?"

"No..."

"Balderdash." said Hermione.

The portrait slid open and Neville gave her an embarrassed smile:

"Thank you. I remembered it started with a B, but I couldn't remember the name. How can you already have homework?" he asked in astonishment, pointing to the parchments rolled under her arm.

"I don't. I'm doing some research of my own... Neville, do you have a house elf at home?"

Neville seemed surprised by the question but replied as he sat down on the sofa in front of the fire:

"Er, no. My grandmother says she's fine on her own, and doesn't need help from anyone else. Why?"

"Oh, so your grandmother is for the freedom of house elves?"

Neville wrinkled his forehead:

"Hm... No, not really. She just doesn't care."

"Ah..."

Ginny then walked over to them and sat down on the sofa:

"Hi. Work already?" asked Ginny as she saw Hermione's scrolls. "We're overworked as it is. McGonagall gave us homework in Transfiguration, I have to learn how to turn an iguana into a slipper."

"Oh, I remember this lesson!" Neville said, turning to Hermione. "We studied it together, during a Saturday session, remember? My slipper stayed green."

"Yes, that's right. Do you want me to help you do it, Ginny?"

"That would be great!" exclaimed Ginny, suddenly relieved. "Saturday, right? I could join you during your study session?"

"Of course!" said Hermione with a smile.

"Great, thanks so much Mione."

Hermione made herself some cinnamon tea and continued talking with Neville and Ginny by the fire. Soon their discussion drifted to the Triwizard Tournament, as it had been since the first day of school.

Then Harry and Ron arrived, and Fred and George sat on the armrests of the sofa, accompanied by Lee Jordan. Seamus and Dean sat down at the foot of the coffee table in front of the fire to talk with them, and very quickly a good twenty students joined in their conversation. Hermione listened to them with her tea, warmed by the fire.

.

Draco

.
.

The first Arithmancy class of the year was drawing to a close, and Draco hadn't followed any of it. He'd spent the hour watching Granger as she copied down the exercises Professor Vector had written on the blackboard. When she concentrated, she always twisted a curly lock of hair between her fingers without realising it, which was very funny to watch. Theo nudged him:

"Draco, did you understand exercise nine?" he whispered with furrowed brows.

Draco turned his head to the board and saw a particularly difficult graph.

"Not really. You can't do it?" he wondered.

Usually, it was Theo who explained this class to Draco, not the other way round. Theo shook his head:

"No, I don't understand the calculations."

Draco looked down and saw that Theo's parchment was crossed out all over.

"Class dismissed." Vector announced from her office. "See you next week!"

The students stood up to put things away, including Granger who had jumped to her feet.

"Cool, no homework!" said Draco with a grin.

"It pisses me off that I don't understand." snapped Theo, who was still sitting at his desk, eyes glued to the Arithmancy textbook.

"Sorry, I can't help you." said Draco, who was putting his textbook away in his bag.

He then caught Theo's gaze wandering around the classroom, and stopped on Granger. She had just finished putting her bag away and was now slinging it over her shoulder, paying no attention to the two Slytherins on the next desk. Theo bit his lip a little, hesitating.

"No." said Draco in a low voice. "You're not going to ask her, are you?"

"Why not? She must have understood the exercise."

He hesitated again, but it took him too long to decide, because Granger quickly left the classroom. Theo grumbled and stood up, but instead of putting his textbook in his bag, he preferred to keep it in his hand.

"Are you really going to study the class we just left?" asked Draco, seeing Theo reading as he walked down the corridor.

"Yeah, it pisses me off that I don't understand it."

"Ok.. Shall we go for lunch?"

"No, let's wait for Pansy. She's taking longer to get out, what with Divination class at the other end of the Castle. Let's join Blaise in the courtyard."

So they headed for the courtyard of the Castle, Theo still rereading his textbook as he zigzagged blindly between the students.

"Wait, doesn't Blaise have Divination as well?" asked Draco.

"No. He often skips it, says it's rubbish and that he doesn't need to go to class to pass the end-of-year exams. Only Pansy likes this subject." Theo said with a mocking laugh.

Indeed, Blaise was already outside, sitting at the foot of a large tree, reading the Daily Prophet. They sat down next to him, and were soon joined by Crabbe and Goyle, much to Theo's annoyance.

Draco was busy watching Granger, Potter and Weasley enter the courtyard too, chatting briskly.

"Weasley's in the paper." Blaise said, suddenly putting the paper in front of Draco's eyes.

He looked at the article: "Further mistakes at the Ministry of Magic." Draco's eyes widened and he grabbed the paper with both hands so he could read the whole article, then, he burst out laughing:

"What a looser!"

He squinted and looked at the photo that accompanied the article: it was the Weasleys' parents, both of them standing in front of an odd-shaped house. Draco stood up against the tree trunk, overexcited.

"Where are you going?" asked Blaise.

"To show this to Weasley, of course! I can't wait to see his face when..."

"No, Draco, don't..." said Theo who had suddenly looked up from his book.

But before he could stop him, Draco turned quickly on his heels, followed closely by Crabbe and Goyle. He crossed the courtyard, and it was only when he was in front of them that they looked up at him.

"What?" asked Weasley curtly.

"Your father's in the paper, Weasley!" said Malfoy. "Listen to this! It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office." Draco lifted his head to look at the redhead's defeated face. "Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It's almost as though he's a complete nonentity, isn't it?"

Granger's eyebrows were furrowed. She looked furious. Draco continued reading:

"Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers ("policemen") over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of "Mad-Eye" Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene."

He looked up and noticed that many of the students in the courtyard were listening to what he was saying. Yet he only watched Granger's reaction, because seeing her cheeks turn pink and her anger make her tremble was far too satisfying. Weasley, on the other hand, was tomato red.

"And there's a picture, Weasley!" continued Draco. "A picture of your parents in front of their house, if you can call it a house! Your mum could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?"

He knew he'd hit a nerve, because Weasley had never looked so angry. He saw Granger put a hand on his arm, as if to calm him down, and the gesture gave him an unexpected surge of anger.

"Get stuffed, Malfoy." Potter spat. "C'mon Ron."

"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter?" Draco snarled. "So, tell me, is his mother really that porky or is it just the picture?"

He knew he'd gone too far, because he heard exclamations of shock behind him, including Theo's. He couldn't remember when he'd become so angry, he'd flipped all of a sudden and now he was as pissed off as Weasley. The latter lunged at him, but was held back by Granger who was begging him to calm down.

"What about your mother, Malfoy?" retorted Potter. "Why did she look like she had dung under her nose when I saw her? Is she always like that or is it just because you were with her?"

"Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter."

"Keep your fat mouth shut, then."

Potter turned, taking Granger with him. Draco could feel the tremors of anger paralyzing his muscles, a sensation he hadn't felt in long enough. Impulsively, he pulled out his wand and pointed it at Potter's back:

"Stupefix!"

The spell came out of his wand with so much force that it shook in his hands, sending the spell flying too far to the left and just grazing Potter. Draco then saw, just behind them, Professor Moody coming into the courtyard at full speed:

"Oh no you don't, laddie!"

Moody then cast a spell, and a jet of white sparks struck Draco full force. He felt a wave of intense heat wash over him, and for a moment he thought his temper tantrum had got the better of him.

Then, just after the heat, his body contorted painfully. His back arched with an unpleasant creak and he felt himself shrink considerably, until he was belly-down on the ground, all four feet on the floor.

Moody had turned him into a ferret.

He raised his head in fear and only managed to produce a squeak of fright. All the people around him were huge, staring at him with round eyes. Draco tried to get up, but to no avail. He thought he recognised Granger, whose eyes were wide with horror, then he turned and saw Blaise and Theo who had risen to their feet with hands over their mouths.

Suddenly, Crabbe's body leaned towards him, and as his huge hand tried to grasp it, Draco felt the ground tremble. It was Moody moving forward, his wooden leg trampling the ground. Draco screamed reflexively, another high-pitched squeak, and ran to escape.

He could hear nothing and his vision was blurred. Suddenly, he felt himself being thrown into the air, probably because Moody's wand seemed to be pointed at him. He carried him up and down in the air, ignoring his cries of pain. His back was in shreds. He remembered the Muggles at the World Cup, tossed through the air like disjointed puppets. Was this revenge, punishment?

After what seemed like an eternity of jumping, he felt another slap against his body and another wave of heat irradiated him. When he dared to open his eyes again, he was on the floor, short of breath and with tears in his eyes. Moody and McGonagall were standing in front of him, and the teacher looked outraged:

"Moody, we never use Transfiguration to inflict punishment! Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"

"He might've mentionned it, yeah." Moody replied quietly.

Draco had risen to his feet. His fingers stung, and his head hurt, like a dizzy spell. His anger still hadn't subsided, especially when he saw the hilarious faces of Potter and Weasley. Granger, on the other hand, wasn't laughing. Both her eyebrows were still furrowed, as if she were worried. They exchanged a glance, but she did nothing and turned to go to the Great Hall.

.

.

.

.

He met his friends for dinner, and from the look on Pansy's face, someone must have told her about his transformation while he was away. He took his place on the Slytherin bench, wincing in pain: every muscle he used gave him a throbbing pain, as if he were aching all over.

When he first sat down, none of his group of friends said a word. He noticed that Pansy, opposite him, had her face hidden by her glass of water and was carefully avoiding looking at him.

"What? What is it?" Draco asked curtly.

Pansy, Theo and Blaise looked at each other and suddenly burst out laughing. Pansy spat her water on the table and Theo collapsed in front of his plate, laughing so hard.

"What?! You're laughing because I've been transformed?"

Their laughter redoubled.

"Transformed... into... a ferret!" shouted Theo, bent double.

Blaise pounded his fist on the table, still shaken by a terrible fit of laughter. All the anger Draco felt evaporated at once, and without controlling it, he burst out laughing too. Their laughter lasted a good twenty minutes, and every time someone calmed down, they ended up laughing again. It was contagious: soon enough, half the Slytherin table was collapsing with giggles.

"I'd have paid to see that!" shouted Pansy between hiccups.

Draco wiped the laughing tears from the corners of his eyes. His heart was much lighter after that, he felt less humiliated. He decided not to tell his parents, because they would probably make a scandal of it, and he didn't want to go back to that. His friends had managed to get him to loosen up.

They laughed until they went to bed, and Draco was sure he could still hear giggles coming from Blaise and Theo's closed beds during the night.

.
.

Hermione

.
.

Hermione had arrived early for Saturday's study session in the Library. She was putting the finishing touches to the association she had just set up, the S.P.E.W, and finishing the last of the leaflets she was going to distribute to the students at the Castle.

Neville arrived and looked at the impressive pile of leaflets on the table:

"Hi, Hermione. What are you up to?"

"My research into house elves. I've set up an association, the S.P.E.W, to defend them. Ron and Harry are among the members, and if you pay two Sickles, you can have your badge and help me recruit more people..."

She looked up and met Neville's gaze. Although he seemed interested in what she was saying, she was surprised to see how pale and sad he looked. She paused in her explanation and asked softly:

"Neville? Are you sure you're all right?"

"What? Yeah, great."

She could tell he was lying, it was obvious. His gaze was shifty and misty. She could easily guess the reason:

"It's Moody, isn't it? What he did yesterday?"

The day before, Professor Moody had taught them the three Unforgivable Curses. Hermione had noticed that Neville hadn't reacted well to the presentation of one of them, the Cruciatus Curse. He had suddenly tensed up and watched the spider writhing in pain in horror, until Professor Moody had stopped his presentation when he saw the frightened look on his face. But before she had a chance to ask him how he was, Professor Moody had taken him to his study, and she hadn't seen him all day.

Neville nodded slowly:

"That was awful." he said in a whisper.

"It was." Hermione said sympathetically. "He really is violent. What did he say to you afterwards?"

"We had tea, and he asked me questions about myself. He also gave me a book, because he said I was good at Herbology, according to Professor Sprout."

Hermione grinned at him:

"You are, Neville. You're brilliant at it. And if it makes you feel any better, Harry also felt bad after Moody's class, about the death curse..."

Neville looked into Hermione's eyes and seemed to hesitate before saying something:

"Actually... I have..."

"Hi you two!"

Ginny had approached the table and her intervention startled Neville, who abruptly pulled away from Hermione. His confession escaped, he coughed and gave Ginny a small, embarrassed smile:

"Hey."

She sat down at the table and put her thick Transfiguration textbook down in the middle, sighing:

"I'm rubbish at this. I've been trying to practice all week, and I can't get this spell to work."

Hermione smiled and opened Ginny's textbook to study with her. She got so caught up in her homework and studying that she forgot all about S.P.E.W., and Neville's sullen expression faded after a while.

By the end of their session, it was almost dark outside, and the iguana Ginny had borrowed from McGonagall was nothing more than a greenish slipper with only a few scales on it.

"Well done, Ginny! You've done it!"

Neville and Hermione clapped and Ginny thanked them, then restored the animal to its ordinary appearance. The noise they made as they congratulated her drew the attention of Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott, sitting a little further away. Zabini was reading a magazine and Theodore Nott was bent over some homework. Malfoy was doing nothing in particular, apart from sweeping his grey eyes around the Library.

Finally, tired from so much work, the three of them rose at the same time to go to dinner. Mrs. Pince didn't have her usual smile when Hermione left the room, and she suspected it was because of the iguana Ginny was holding. Ginny went through McGonagall's office to drop it off, and then they went to join the others in the Great Hall. Harry and Ron were already seated but hadn't started eating yet.

"There you are!" exclaimed Ron as they sat down. "Where have you been? I'm starving."

"You're always starving, Ron." said Ginny.

"We were in the Library."

"What? But we don't even have homework!" said Ron, helping himself. "Neville, you got Hermione to sign you up to support spew, didn't you?"

"It's not spew, it's S.P.E.W.!" corrected Hermione, annoyed.

"What's S.P.E.W?" asked Ginny.

Hermione explained her association between mouthfuls, and unlike everyone else she'd told, Ginny was the one who was most interested. She even gave her two Sickles and proudly hung her badge on her wizarding robes:

"There you go! If you want, you can pass me some flyers, so I can pass them out to the Ravenclaw girls in my Charms class."

"Oh, yes! Thanks Ginny!"

Ron had rolled his eyes so many times during Hermione's talk that he was almost squinting.

"Hermione, for the hundredth time, the house elves are happy with their conditions." he said, his mouth full.

"Shut up, Ron." Ginny cut in.

They bickered a little, and Hermione noticed that Neville was no longer taking part in the conversation. In fact, his eyes were glazed over and he looked sad again. He was just fidgeting with his gratin with his fork without eating it.

"Neville?" asked Hermione quietly, taking advantage of the bursts of voices next to them to cover her words. "Are you all right?"

He looked up, as if startled out of his reverie, and nodded:

"Yes, yes." he replied in a small voice.

Hermione wanted to insist, to ask what was wrong. Then, suddenly, a memory emerged in her mind. It was from second year, when Hermione had turned into a cat and spent a month in the hospital wing. Neville had come to see her, and despite her appearance, he hadn't asked any questions. Neville had always done that, comfort without judging.

Hermione looked at her friend who was eating sadly, and decided to put her curiosity aside. If he didn't want to talk about it, it was probably for a good reason.

.

Draco

.
.

"Come on, get up!"

Blaise's voice barely broke through the sleep Draco was in. He rolled onto his bed and half opened his eyes: Blaise had drawn his curtains and was patiently watching Draco and Pansy, who was lying next to him.

"Hmmppffr." Draco muttered.

"Come on! The alarm clock's been ringing for twenty minutes, you're going to be late."

Draco turned wearily to Pansy. She was still asleep, her head sticking out a few centimetres from the thick duvet. Her black hair was scattered over the white pillow.

"Screw you, Zabini." she growled in a sleepy voice.

"Five minutes." Draco said with a yawn.

"Shall we skip?" suggested Pansy.

Draco nodded. Their first class was History of Magic, and Draco had no desire to go there now, especially when his bed was so comfortable. Blaise sighed:

"What, even breakfast?"

"I've got stuff to eat in my dorm." Pansy said, folding the duvet over her. "Let me sleep."

"Come on, Theo, they're skipping." said Blaise as they left the dormitory.

They closed the door behind them and the dormitory was once again plunged into darkness. Draco tossed and turned in his bed, but now that he was awake, he knew he'd never get back to sleep. He lay there for several long minutes until Pansy grumbled:

"Great. Now I'm awake."

"Me too." said Draco.

She then pulled her head out of the duvet and rubbed her eyes, sighing dramatically.

Draco looked around the empty dormitory and then had an idea:

"Now that there's nobody left, do you want to...?"

She took his hint and thought for a few seconds before turning to him:

"Ok, why not."

She stood up, perfectly awake now. Draco and Pansy hadn't stopped sleeping together since they'd returned to Hogwarts; on the contrary, they were doing it even more than before. Whenever one of them got bored and proposed, the other accepted.

They did it all the time in Draco's bed, protected by the Silencio charm that Pansy cast every night before going to sleep. And since she'd been coming to sleep in his bed very often since first year, neither Theo nor Blaise had made any remark.

On the other hand, they never talked about it outside the bed. It was like a secret agreement. Apart from that, their relationship hadn't changed at all, they were still best friends.

Pansy straddled Draco, who was still lying in bed, and leaned over to kiss him. As usual, she smelt of cold tobacco, the distinctive scent that followed her everywhere. He ran a hand through her smooth hair and she smiled slightly against his mouth, then stood up and took off her T-shirt.

Suddenly there was a beam of light that briefly illuminated Pansy. The door had flung open and Theo was standing in the doorway. Draco realised a second too late that they hadn't closed the curtains since Blaise had woken them up.

"Shit, shit, shit!" cried Pansy.

Theo let out a howl and then poured out a stream of insults that Draco had never heard in his life. Draco quickly grabbed Pansy by the waist to pull her forward and hid her with the duvet right next to him.

"Hush, Theo!" hissed Draco. "Do you want the whole Castle to hear you?!"

Theo brutally closed the door with his foot and switched on the dormitory light. His mouth was wide open in shock:

"What the fuck?!" he shouted.

"You weren't supposed to be there!" defended Pansy in a small voice.

"I WAS COMING TO GET MY FUCKING HISTORY OF MAGIC TEXTBOOK! I forgot it! What did I just see? Oh Merlin, I'm never going to get that awful image out of my head."

He pressed his fists against his eyes, grumbling. Meanwhile, Pansy was trying to put her pyjama shirt back on under the duvet.

"Fucking hell! It's barely eight o'clock and I come across this!" shouted Theo. "Fuck! Do you really want to kill me?"

"It's fine, it's nothing!" blurted Pansy.

"Nothing? Nothing?!" bellowed Theo who was now walking blindly through the dormitory to get to his bed. "I just saw my best friend topless rocking out on my best friend and you say it's nothing? I'm fucking traumatised!"

Theo slammed himself hard against his desk and let out a muffled swear.

"You can open your eyes Theo, I'm dressed." said Pansy.

"I don't give a fuck, I never want to see you again!" he shouted, deeply annoyed.

"Don't you think you're exaggerating a bit?" asked Draco.

"How would you react if you saw me sleeping with Blaise in my bed at 7.30 in the morning?"

Draco grimaced, but Theo couldn't see it because his eyes were still closed. He was now groping his bed, trying to find his textbook.

"So, what? You're sleeping together now?" he questioned.

"Yeah."

"Since when? Don't fucking tell me you've been fucking next to me for years. I'm changing dorms."

"You're not! It's only been a month. Relax, Theo." said Pansy, almost amused.

She finally took off the duvet and jumped to the floor, probably to get dressed. She headed for the bathroom while Theo rubbed his eyes:

"Can I open my eyes or am I going to have to go through another trauma?" squeaked Theo.

"You can open your eyes, I'm just in my knickers."

Pansy walked past him and went to lock herself in the bathroom. Draco put on a T-shirt in turn:

"Wait for us, we're going for breakfast."

"Oh, so now that I've interrupted your activity, you're going to class?"

Draco shrugged. Theo tucked his textbook away in his bag, without stopping to ruminate on nonsensical words. Pansy came out of the bathroom, fully dressed. They headed for the Great Hall, but Theo was speechless and didn't even dare look at them.

As they approached the Slytherin table, Blaise looked up from his newspaper with an eyebrow arched in surprise at their arrival. Draco had hardly sat down beside him when Theo exclaimed:

"Blaise, you're never going to believe what I've just seen..."

"Theo!" whispered Pansy, sitting across from the three of them.

"... Pansy and Draco, having sex! Over there, in the dormitory!"

He'd said this in an angry tone, pointing at them. Pansy opened her mouth, probably to insult him for snitching on them, but stopped when she heard Blaise's retort:

"Yeah."

He shrugged, his face partially hidden by the Daily Prophet. Even Pansy frowned:

"Huh? Did you know about this?"

Blaise lowered the newspaper enough to meet Pansy's gaze. He had a small amused smile on his face.

"No, but I suspected."

"WHAT?" cried Theo, revolted. "Why am I always the last to know about things like this?"

"I guessed it!" explained Blaise, still smirking. "It was obvious, Theo."

"What do you mean?" protested Draco and Pansy at the same time.

"I was supposed to believe that, all of a sudden, you'd managed to make up? Draco stopping pouting overnight, and Pansy finally stopping her depressive crying fits? I was sure he'd managed to make her smile by..."

He had to stop himself because Pansy had just thrown her fork at him, which he dodged at the last second:

"Hey!" he bellowed, his smile now gone. "I liked it better when you were throwing napkins..."

"Yeah, but right now, I really wanted you to shut up." replied Pansy bitterly.

"Anyway..." resumed Blaise. "I guessed right. I wondered when we were going to surprise you, but I never thought it would be so soon. You're so not discreet."

"Theo wasn't supposed to come back to the dorm." Pansy gritted through her teeth. "Can we stop talking about this now, please? You know about it, but you're forbidden from making even the slightest innuendo to it, especially in public. Is that clear?"

She threatened the two boys in front of her with the tip of her knife, which she pointed at them. They had no doubt that she might throw it at them if they dared to make a joke, so they both nodded.

"Have you finished reading this?" asked Pansy after a moment, pointing at Blaise's newspaper.

"Yeah, go ahead."

As she had every day since first year, Pansy took the Prophet and opened it to the last page, read a few lines, and closed it again while eating her porridge. Theo asked:

"Why do you only read this part, every time?"

Draco, who already knew the answer to this question, couldn't hide his smile as he imagined the rest of this conversation.

"It's my horoscope for the day." said Pansy calmly.

Theo let out a deep sigh of despair and put his cutlery down dramatically, before looking up into the sky of the Great Hall:

"Oh Merlin. Come to my rescue, I'm begging you."