Harry Potter and Something or Other

Chapter Five - Let's Get Physical

Author's Note: Today is a day of morning. Wait, mourning, sorry. Most days have mornings, am I right? I say most, because I'm generally not awake for mornings, so ... you know. It's sort of a myth over at my house. The sun comes up. Ha. Anyway, it's a day of mourning. It's also a day of explanations. The Harry Potter world doesn't mention anything about computers, in fact, computers don't work within the walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And have you ever wondered why? Because when Windows corrupts for the fifteenth time in one day, you don't want anyone capable of blowing up a small village to be using that system. If the Harry Potter world did, in fact, have computers, Bill Gates would be a bouncing white ferret by now. Let me tell you.

And as such, we have lost a substantial amount of our story. Yes, I'm sure all the fans out there were wondering what was taking us so long. Well, we had an epic. It rivaled the Iliad. (Who's taking a course in Greek mythology now?! Ha!) Really it did, it was probably one of the most fantastic pieces of literature ever compiled. But it's gone now. All twenty seven chapters we wrote are gone.

Nah, we're lying our lazy asses off. We wrote one author's note. (Yes, four months produced one author's note.) But it was a really good author's note, because we had this character named Magnificent Malificent, and she was an exchange student from America, and she was more beautiful than anything you've ever seen - in fact to look upon her, your eyes would melt from their sockets and you would spontaneously combust. And she was really smart, she made Hermione look like Curious George, you know, the monkey? And everyone was in love with her. Even McGonagall. Especially McGonagall. And she was even more powerful than Dumbledore, in fact, she killed Dumbledore. She just looked at him and her awesome power overwhelmed him, and he spontaneously combusted. (She's big in with the spontaneous combustion.) And then she killed Voldemort. Just because. It wasn't Harry's destiny to do that, J.K. Rowling is a big fat liar. It was Magnificent Malificent. And then she killed Harry. So, you see, it really was a wicked author's note. And the world is really missing something without it.

Anyway, these author's notes are getting really ridiculous, and it has, actually, been four months, so it would really be best to get to the story. Except that there's one other thing we have to rant about. In Chapter Four (Wrath of the Pickleweasel - do you feel cheated, there was no actual pickelweasel. I, for one, feel used. But that's just because I'm having Snape fantasies. BWA HA HA!!!) we mentioned ... shite. Fausta just informed me that Chapter Four was 'It Tastes Like Chicken', which I now remember, because we made you poor saps lick the screen. (There's still a little bit of moisture.) Anyway, Chapter Four - whatever the hell it was called - we had a contest. The 'name Professor Bob' contest. Or was that in Chapter Three? Well shite Fausta. You could point this out before I make an arse of myself. Note how I don't delete anything in this conversation. I am the Queen of Arse. Anyway, CHAPTER THREE FOR GAWD'S SAKE JUST GET IT OVER WITH - we had the 'name Professor Bob' contest. That contest resulted from this conversation:

"So Astrid's not allowed in Dueling, eh?"

"Yeh, because of some ... mishaps."

"Mishaps."

"You know Astrid."

"I wish I didn't."

"Gerrof."

"Hee hee. You're Canadian."

"I can say 'gerrof' if I wanna. I don't have to be English."

"This isn't how the conversation went."

"So I'm embellishing a little. It was pretty dry."

"None of our conversations are ever dry."

"Mwe hee hee."

"What the hell was that?"

"You know ... like 'mwa ha ha', only slightly less maniacal."

"I can't believe you delineate between the two."

"Why not?"

"Back to the matter at hand?"

"Right. Astrid can't take Dueling, so what should she take?"

"Um ... they're both taking Care of Magical Creatures, right?"

"MWA HA HA!"

"Much better. Arithmancy?"

" ... yeh. Astrid in Arithmancy."

"Right, right. Divination?"

"She's probably barred from that too."

"How's that?"

"She got too gruesome."

"Too gruesome for Trelawney?"

"Don't tempt me."

"Muggle Studies?"

"SWEET! She wouldn't have to do anything! Coasty coasty!"

"Coasty coasty? What, are you Pauly Shore now?"

"Ah, right, screw you."

"Bu-uddy!"

"Eew."

"We need a name for the Muggle Studies Professor."

"Professor Shore?"

"Oh Christ."

"Professor Jesus?"

"Don't do that."

"Um ... should a Slytherin be taking Muggle Studies?"

*both giggle*

"Come on, we need a name."

"Professor Muggle?"

"You're an idiot."

"Fine. Screw you."

"Humph."

"Professor Eichmann?"

"We did that already."

"There could be two!! That'd be trippy!"

"I'm never asking your help on anything ever again."

"Professor Bob."

"Professor Bob?"

"Yeh. Like 'yo, whassup Professor Bob?' And Professor Bob's like 'I be down with that, mah homey!' And I'm like 'we be chillin'. And he's like - "

"STOPIT!!!!"

"Okay. Professor Schnitzle?"

"Bob, Bob, Professor Bob."

"He could have a theme song! Like - "

"AAAAAAAAAARGH!"

And thus Professor Bob was born. Of course, the name Professor Bob isn't much better than Professor Schnitzle, which I am still vying for. Shut up, Fausta, it's a rockin' name! Anyway, we had a contest, in which you could win a pony if you could give Bob Bob a better name than Bob Bob. (Or Robert Bob if you want to get formal.) Please note that the pony was subject to unponyness - DISCLAIMER DISCLAIMER COVERING OUR ASSES DISCLAIMER!!! We thought this would be a great idea. Send someone a picture of a stick pony, drawn by yours truly, Astrid, and have a few laughs.

The laughs never began. No one entered our contest. For shame.

For shame.

And now, without further ado, we proudly bring to you, Chapter Five! (whew, I thought that would never end.)

Chapter Five

Stop With the Author's Notes Already

Harry and Hermione (who are actually alive, and were not eaten by the pickelweasel, as earlier reports may have inferred) sat in the Gryffindor common room, twiddling their thumbs (and twiddling nothing else, this isn't a H/H) and waiting for Ron to return from his first night of horror in the Slytherin common room. Little did they know the atrocities Ron would be subjected to that night.

"So ... " Harry glanced over at Hermione.

"So. What have you been up to? Usually the whole world revolves around you, and I haven't heard hide nor hair of your little escapades since those psychopaths arrived from Canada," Hermione returned Harry's glance, not sounding bitter at all - oh no!

"Um ... nothing interesting, naturally," Harry said quite honestly, careful to tiptoe around what could be a potentially violent situation, "I hope Ron comes back soon."

"Yes, he's been quite busy lately, hasn't he?" Hermione snapped in irritation.

"Oh, so you figured it out, eh?" Harry couldn't help but grin a little.

"Figured out that Ron's got a new best friend? Hasn't got time for us anymore? Oh yes, I've figured that out!" Hermione called, not quite as smart as she thought she was.

"Sure Hermione, sure," Harry nodded, deciding to wait until Hermione's parents decided to let her in on the phenomenon know cryptically as the 'birds and the bees'.

"NO! NO No no no no no ... " Ron squealed as he appeared in the Gryffindor common room, getting progressively quieter and more desperate until his mantra was nothing more than sheepish babble.

"Don't you try to get out of this, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione said, for one reason or another assuming that Ron had heard all of her and Harry's previous conversation.

"No ... no no no ... NOOOOO!" Ron screamed, his vocabulary now reduced to one word.

"Astrid and Snape?" Harry asked, slightly more swift than his sidekicks.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" the screams rang throughout half the castle as Ron fell to his knees in an all-too-cliched manner, gripping at his face as he fell forward onto the ground and twitched pathetically. Most of the Gryffindors ran out to see if, in fact, Lord Voldemort had entered Hogwarts, as surely such a pathetic noise would indicate, but when they found Ron Weasley twitching on the ground, they sighed and went back to their rooms. Some wandered into the room to give the red-haired, freckled boy a kick in the head, but most disappeared quietly into their rooms.

"Sorry, suppose I shouldn't have brought it up," Harry winced, sticking a finger in his ear, wondering if, perhaps, his eardrums had been shattered.

"What's all this about, then?" Hermione piped up, ever naïve.

"I was in the room, and the green, and the silver, and the people, they didn't like me, and the throwing things, and the OW! And then she said, and I heard, but she didn't know I heard, but the other did, and she didn't say, but I heard anyway, and I screamed and NOOO! And she lied and then the guy and the thing and NOOOOOO!!!" Ron popped his head up long enough to unintelligibly scream before flopping about on the ground again like some kind of salmon.

"Yes. That made a whole lot of sense. Is the Slytherin common room an opium den?" Harry asked, glancing over to Hermione, who was just standing there staring at Ron in a dumbfounded manner, as if she couldn't tell whether she should kick him in the head or ... punch him in the head.

"He's been bewitched!" Hermione finally yelled, the only reasonable answer she could possibly come up with.

"Astrid Ackerley likes Professor Snape," Harry told Hermione very slowly. This didn't seem to register.

"Ron Weasley likes Astrid Ackerley," Harry said. Nothing. So he added, "that's why Ron's robes are always backwards." Slowly. Very slowly. Her eyes widened. Her mouth dropped open. And she kicked Ron in the head.

* * * * *

"So, when are you going to ask Malfoy to the ball?" Astrid asked pleasantly as she began building a little fortress out of her scrambled eggs for Severus (the rat), who still managed to find himself a seat at the Slytherin table, despite numerous complaints.

"Astrid, sod off," Fausta hissed through clenched teeth. This was not the first time Astrid had asked. This was not even the fifteenth time Astrid had asked. This was probably closer to the sixty eighth time Astrid had asked. Only approximately.

"You'll have to ask him soon, because you'll want his robes and your dress to match, so then when you're making out on the dance floor, you both kind of melt together into this one big making-out-blob! That's so romantic!" Astrid swooned.

"Who are you taking to the ball, Astrid?" Fausta asked, naturally referring to the Iuvenesco Ball, even though we haven't mentioned it for quite some time.

"Oh, Severus, naturally. He's been trying to ask me all morning, haven't you noticed him looking at me all morning? Those black eyes smoldering with desire, his whole body aching with - "

"For God's sake, I'm trying to eat!" Fausta spat, taking a stab at Severus with her fork.

"It's going to be lovely, really, I mean, I'm making my own dress, and I'm going to make this fantastic little bow tie that Severus can wear, and we're just going to burn up the dance floor, I mean, can you imagine the moves he's got?" Astrid mooned, if this were an anime, her eyes would be giant hearts beating out of her skull.

"Supposing 'dear Severus' doesn't ask you? Will you take pity on the Weasley?" Fausta refused to acknowledge Ron as anything above a mold.

"The who? Oh! Ronny! Sure, yeah, I've got two hands, haven't I?" Astrid said, not meaning what I'm sure you think she means.

"That's it, I'm never going to eat again," Fausta shook her head and shoved her plate away, storming from the table just as Malfoy sat across from her.

"Well bloody great, what have I done this time?!" Malfoy yelled after Fausta.

"You haven't asked her to the ball yet, you silly sod, it's breaking her poor little heart! Be a man! ... You are a man, aren't you?" Astrid asked curiously, ducking under the table as if to check whether Malfoy was a man or not.

"AAAAH! BLOODY ACKERLEY!" Malfoy screamed, beet red, and ran from the hall at an amazing pace.

"So it's still up for debate, then?" Astrid asked, appearing from beneath the table before shrugging and picking at Severus' egg fortress.

* * * * *

"Her?" Hermione asked, pointing to Astrid as Draco ran past and Astrid began fighting with her rat for a piece of scrambled egg.

"I've been saying that for the past week," Harry sighed, not even turning around to see Astrid growling at Severus.

"Her?" Hermione asked again, unbelieving, flinching as Astrid grabbed a sausage and began beating Severus about the head with it, somehow ignoring the tremendous pile of scrambled eggs right next to her.

"Have I gone bloody invisible?" Harry demanded, looking around quickly, "oh please, I've just rescued this school from impending doom, what, seven times now! Please, ignore the boy with the scar, whose destiny it is to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named! Really, that must be part of the prophecy too!"

"What's he on about?" Ron asked, the first semi-intelligent thing he had said in a very long time.

"Who knows," Hermione shook her head," so, her?"

"AAAH!" Ron screamed and flopped under the table, curling into a little ball as, conveniently, Snape walked past the table.

"Weasley, what's wrong with you this time?" Snape asked, peering under the table curiously, showing a rare bit of compassion, as he seemed to understand Ron's woe - they were both being stalked by Astrid after all.

"Nothing sir, this is really more your problem," Harry couldn't help but grin ominously.

Snape just gave him a weary look and dashed towards the teacher's table before Astrid could get a hold of him. He dove under the table, where Minerva handed him a plate of bacon, as it had become his usual seat.

"Why Snape? Why not ... Harry. I could deal with that. Blimey, I could deal with it if she had a crush on Dumbledore, but Snape, he's like my bleeding mortal enemy!" Ron yelled from under the table.

"Who's mortal enemy?!" Harry demanded, sticking his head under the table at Ron.

"Right, sorry, forgot all that business," Ron shrugged a little.

"Right," Harry nodded, sitting back up.

"But, I mean, he's still a prick, eh?" Ron asked, sliding back into his seat to nods from Hermione and Harry.

"Orange juice," came the peep from under the teacher's table, and a sallow hand popped up and waved about until Minerva jammed a glass of orange juice into it and it disappeared. Sputtering followed.

"No pulp, you silly bint!" the peep was a little louder this time as the orange juice reappeared. This was followed by several sharp shrieks.

"Sorry Severus, my foot slipped," Minerva said, voice swimming in self-satisfaction as she handed the oily little man another orange juice - no pulp.

"Hmph," he huffed, "it's WARM!" he yelled and held it up again. More shrieks.

"Muscle spasm," Minerva assured him before handing him his third glass of orange juice, "how is it?"

"Yummy," Snape whimpered, and crawled off towards Flitwick's chair.

* * * * *

"No." Snape stated flatly, shaking his head as he looked around at the other teachers at the staff meeting.

"Severus, we're short of teachers as it is, if a student doesn't have a chaperone, they can't come to the ball," Minerva explained, though none-too-delicately; she was still enjoying the fact that Severus sported several high-heel shaped bruises.

"No, because I'm going to pull Ackerley's name. It's going to happen, and you know it just as well as I do," Snape snapped, looking almost afraid for his life.

"Don't be stupid Severus, there are a dozen names in the hat, the chances of pulling Ackerley's name are slim. Look, I'll shove her paper to the bottom for you, now the odds are astronomical!" Minerva said, pulling out Astrid's name and shoving it to the bottom of the hat. Snape watched her suspiciously before putting his hand out towards the hat ... but it hovered several centimetres above, as if he were frightened that Ackerley's name might be attracted to him somehow, like the leech of a girl that was Astrid herself.

"Oh Christ, just hurry up and pick, we've got other things to do!" Professor Bob called violently, waving his little fist about in the air menacingly.

Snape shot him an evil look and made plans to spike Bob's orange juice later, but for now, he carefully took a name from the top of the hat and held it in his hand, dreading what it might say. The Iuvensco Ball was a time of celebration and family, but some unlucky students found themselves without chaperones - family members of some kind who could make their way to Hogwarts for a weekend of celebration. In these cases, the teachers drew lots to decide chaperones, because without them, the students couldn't participate in the many planned events. And Astrid had conveniently forgotten to tell her parents, or her

parents had conveniently forgotten to RSVP, or something of some convenience, because Astrid's name was in that lot, and Snape had the sinking feeling Astrid's name was now in his hand.

"Longbottom, Longbottom, Longbottom, Longbottom," Snape chanted over and over as he carefully unfolded the piece of paper, as it was no exaggeration that he'd rather dance with Neville Longbottom than with Astrid Ackerley. He was quite sure he wouldn't have to be worried about where Neville's hands would be while they danced. He closed his eyes and pulled the folded piece of paper open, opening his eyes in a flash to see his doom spelled out in fourteen letters.

Astrid Ackerley

" ...

....

....

....

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Snape screamed and ran from the room, his arms waving about in the air madly.

The other teachers exchanged glances for a brief moment before McGonagall dropped the hat and the room was filled with uproarious laughter.

"Okay. Let's get the real hat now," McGonagall said as a wave of papers with 'Astrid Ackerley' written on them floated to the ground, the hat following close behind.

* * * * *

"Hey Fausta," Draco said, in what might have been an attempt to be smooth, but came out as more of a choked squeal.

Fausta simply glared at him out of the corner of her eyes as Astrid bounced on a desk next to them, sure she knew what was coming next.

"Um ... " Draco said before wimping out and running, surprisingly, over to Astrid, "what the hell am I supposed to say?!" he demanded, glaring at her as if this were all her bright idea.

"I told you! You wiggle your eyebrows and say 'How you doin'?' Girls think that's sexy," Astrid nodded authoritatively.

"You like Snape. What the hell do you know about sexy?" Draco demanded.

"Fine, do it your way. Get laughed at, I'd enjoy that much more anyway. You know what girls think is really sexy? When boys where their underwear on the outside," Astrid grinned mischievously.

"ASTRID! He'll make an ass of himself just fine without your help," Fausta hissed across the Potions class; Snape was apparently still getting over the distress of picking Astrid - he was twenty minutes late. Later some boys would say they heard crying coming from the teacher's washroom, but no one could confirm this rumor.

"Hey! I think I'm insulted!" Draco yelled back and glared at Astrid, "some help you turned out to be."

"What did you expect?" Astrid asked absently as she picked up Severus, still playing with a little piece of scrambled egg, and began fighting with him once again.

"I am the man. She wants me. In the zone. Calling upon all my masculine charm. I am the man. I am the sex GOD!" Draco chanted under his breath as he walked towards Fausta.

"THE SEX GOD?" Astrid called, making sure the entire room could hear. With that, Draco turned neon red and ran from the room as well, presumably to become the second Slytherin Astrid would have crying that day.

"THANKS ASTRID! HE WAS GOING TO ASK ME!" Fausta yelled in a very rare outburst as she leapt from her desk and ran after Draco.

"I know what I'm doing," Astrid assured her rat, who looked at her skeptically before offering her the piece of scrambled egg out of pity.

* * * * *

"I didn't say that," Draco said lamely as Fausta caught up with him in the hallway.

"What did you say?" Fausta asked skeptically.

"Um ... I am ... the ... sex ... god ... damn ... " Draco scrambled, but didn't seem to be coming up with anything.

"Oh." Fausta nodded absently, glancing back towards the potion class.

"Yeah." Draco nodded, watching Fausta, who turned to look back at him. This would naturally be the clichéd moment in which they both blush, laugh and start dating, but Fausta is never one for clichés.

"WELL ARE YOU GOING TO BLOODY ASK ME OR NOT?!" she demanded as Draco half-fulfilled his part by blushing with mortification.

"Um ... come ... dance ... me ... " Draco mumbled, barely intelligible.

"No." Fausta said coolly and walked back into the Potions classroom, quite pleased at having the upper hand.

"I hate women," Draco grumbled.

"Me too," Snape agreed dejectedly, appearing in the hallway next to Draco, who nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Professor Snape?" Draco asked, watching the older man with curiosity.

"Run, Draco. Run while you still can," Snape shook his head, his eyes hollow and desperate. With that, he trudged into the classroom, leaving Draco to ponder his words.

"You said no?" Astrid asked unbelievably, obviously having been eavesdropping, "you probably shattered his poor little ego, he might run off and join the circus now, nothing left for him in the wizarding world."

"Where do you come up with this garbage?" Fausta demanded, watching Astrid with wide eyes.

"I dunno. Just seemed a little more realistic than him maybe turning around and going to the dance with Pansy Parkinson or something," Astrid shrugged pleasantly as all colour drained from Fausta's face.

"DRACO MALFOY YOU WILL GET BACK IN HERE AND YOU WILL TAKE ME TO THAT BALL OR I SWEAR YOU WILL REGRET THE DAY YOU WERE BORN!" Fausta screeched at the top of her lungs as Draco arrived in the room, following Snape, who was already being assaulted by Astrid.

"I AM the sex God!!!!" Draco yelled triumphantly, causing Fausta to turn beet red and wonder if she really did want to go to the dance with Draco.

"You didn't run fast enough," Snape shook his head sadly as Astrid snuggled him, gazing up at him lovingly.

"So Severus, about that ball ... " Astrid began, looking suggestively up at Snape, who gave Draco a panicked look and once again, began searching the room for available exits.

* * * * *

"So, has she asked you to the ball yet?" Harry asked, staring between Ron who was about as enthusiastic as mold about the whole idea of the ball, and Hermione, who was still shocked and disgusted at the very idea of Ron liking Astrid, who liked Snape. Harry was seriously beginning to debate seeking out new friends, roadkill and a vulture had more personality than these two.

"Who?" Ron asked sullenly, proving once again that it takes a special kind of person to find Astrid Ackerley attractive.

"Astrid," Harry ventured, knowing this would probably get Ron wailing again, but deciding it was better than Ron sitting there like some sorry lump.

"Astrid?" Ron asked, just as sullenly - maybe he had blocked her out.

"That girl. The one who ... " Harry trailed off, he didn't really want to explain the relationship Ron and Astrid had, as it made him a little queasy, "who likes Snape." He finally decided upon, not really any less disturbing.

"Oh," Ron sighed dejectedly, "yes. Astrid." He let out another pitiful sigh.

"No, then?" Harry asked, staring at his wand and debating whether to drive it into his skull.

"Oh, no," Ron shook his head and waited a few moments before deciding that another pathetic noise was necessary.

"Are you going to ask her?" Harry asked through gritted teeth.

"Ask who?" Ron blinked.

"Astrid." Harry clenched his wand between his fingers.

"Ask Astrid what?" Ron asked, such an attentive friend.

"ASK ASTRID TO THE BLOODY BALL!" Harry yelled, knuckles white, sure he was going to have splinters once this conversation was done.

"Okay," Ron sighed and got up, wandering off to, presumably, look for Astrid, as Harry fell backwards onto the ground and crawled back to the Gryffindor common room, wishing he had been just a little bit nicer to Draco Malfoy that first time they met.

* * * * *

Hollow black eyes bore into a stone wall, and anyone watching would surely think him mad. But once the words 'pure-blood' were spoken, the wall moved away and one found themselves within the depths of evil. Or the Slytherin common room, whichever you prefer, really. That was, of course, assuming that one wanted the wall to move away to reveal the centre of Slytherin society. And this individual most certainly did not. He sighed slightly and let his eyes fall to his feet, which he shuffled uncomfortably as he tried to decide the best way to get this over with quickly and painlessly. Of course, with Astrid Ackerley, there really was no quick and painless way about anything.

"I could always just go join Voldemort again," Snape considered, rolling up his sleeve to glance at his Dark Mark. It was somehow less ominous than Astrid's grinning face. Voldemort was a distant power, he could easily be ignored. Astrid, however, was terrifyingly in his face. Literally.

"I wish Fluffy were still here. I'm sure he and Astrid would get along well," Snape mumbled before leaning up against the door to the Slytherin common room, "Ah Fluff-aaaah!" Snape screamed as he fell backwards into the Slytherin common room to find himself staring up at Astrid.

"Why, Professor Snape, are you trying to get a peek up my robes?" Astrid asked, about to take a step forward as if to help him out a little in that respect, when he flew up to his feet, faster than anyone had ever seen him move.

"That's not funny, Ackerley," Snape hissed, glaring at the young woman.

"I wasn't joking," Astrid said, looking down at the ground as she played absently with the bottom of her long black robes.

"Never mind ... I must have a word with you, Miss Ackerley," Snape said, then seeing the look Astrid was giving him, as if all her hopes and dreams were about to realized, he added, "or rather, I'm being forced to. This way, please." He said and motioned her out into the hallway while other Slytherin's watched on with pity.

Astrid skipped out into the hallway, obviously quite ecstatic, and stared up at Snape, eyes wide and hopeful.

"Yes, Professor Snape?" she breathed, practically salivating.

Snape took another quick glance at his Dark Mark before beginning, "Well, Ackerley, as you know, the Iuvenesco Ball is coming up and unfortunately your parents have decided not to attend, and unfortunately you need a chaperone and MOST unfortunately, by some sick twist of fate, that chaperone is ... er ... " Snape couldn't even bring himself to finish.

"Yes? Yes, Professor Snape?" Astrid squealed, her hands clasped together in joy.

"Don't make me say it," he winced, looking quite ill.

"Oh, but Severus, dear, we have to make it official! You have to ask me properly!" Astrid squealed again, her voice so high-pitched with glee it could have cracked glass.

"I have to go drown myself now," Snape muttered and turned around quickly, wandering off down the hallway as Astrid skipped gleefully after him, chanting in a singsong voice 'He loves me! He loves me! We're going to have ten thousand tiny pink babies!'

* * * * *

"We're only going to go through this one more time," Fausta said, highly irritated that Malfoy wasn't paying attention, "taking me to the ball is an incredible privilege, and I want you to realize that." Malfoy, however, didn't seem to see it that way. Quite the opposite, really, he thought that HE was doing FAUSTA a service.

"Fausta, really, you're not even paying attention to MY rules of conduct," Malfoy sniffed, the two hardly paying any attention to each other, they were much too absorbed in what they, themselves, were saying.

"You will address me as Miss Darcy, you will not speak unless spoken to, and even then, sparingly. I will do the majority of the talking for the both of us, because you've done quite a job of making an idiot of yourself, and I don't need you dragging me down with you. Eating will not be permitted, I won't let you ruin your robes and my dress; I've seen you eat. And dancing itself has a completely different set of rules, with subsets of rules pertaining to the placement of hands, positioning on the dance floor ... " Fausta didn't seem to feel any need to shut up.

"My parents will be there, so naturally you'll be expected to be on your best behaviour, and if that Ackerley girl comes around, you will denounce knowing her AT ALL, she is some kind of magical mishap, once a troll or a mold or something, I don't really care. Just don't speak with her. Naturally, there are very few people that are acceptable to be seen with, you may stand next to Professor Snape, my parents, your parents and ... well, that's all. If anyone else gets within ten feet of you, they will find themselves burping up slugs. Also ... " Malfoy continued on a similar train of thought with no end in sight.

"Of course, my brother will be there and - " Fausta was cut off by a rather girlish scream on Malfoy's part.

"DAMION DARCY IS COMING?!" Draco demanded, turning a ghostly white.

"Naturally," Fausta said coolly, "my parents are far too busy with important business to amuse themselves with silly little balls." She snorted, ever the condescending little witch.

"But ... b-but ... but ... but but ... " Draco squeaked, practically crying now.

"Oh, don't be silly, Damion isn't allowed to turn anyone into cockroach's anymore. The Wizard's Council wasn't very impressed with that little mess," Fausta smirked.

"What about ferrets?" Draco asked with a wince. He had a history with ferrets.

"Where's your sense of adventure?" Fausta grinned maliciously.

"Must've misplaced it," Draco said lamely, debating just hiding under his bed until the ball was over.

"Don't worry Draco, I'll protect you," Fausta smirked.

All Draco could do was whimper.

* * * * *

"So Astrid," Ron attempted as Astrid walked down the aisle of desks in Potions class after Snape.

"Hmm?" Astrid asked absently, following a foot behind Snape, bumping into him whenever he stopped to curses and yells to go back to her desk.

"Are you going to the ball?" Ron asked, not noticing Snape shudder at even a mention of the ball.

"Of course," Astrid swooned, latching onto Snape, "Severus asked me to go with him!"

"I DID NO SUCH THING!" Snape screamed and shoved Astrid off of him, running towards his office and locking himself in.

"He's playing hard to get again," Astrid swooned, "he's so dreamy!" Astrid added, suddenly forgetting all about Ron and his feelings.

"Oh, ER," Ron said, not really sure how to take this, "did you want to go with me?"

"Go where?" Astrid blinked as she wandered up to Snape's office door and began tapping on it with her wand.

"To the ball," Ron said awkwardly, wandering after her, wishing he could get her attention for more than two seconds.

"Yes, I'm going to the ball," Astrid nodded, tapping the door one final time before it caved in on itself to reveal Snape trying to crawl out a window.

"No, did you want to go to the ball with me?" Ron asked, watching Astrid skip over to Snape, who sighed and pulled himself out of the window in defeat.

"Severus, be careful! You'll hurt yourself! I wouldn't want you to mar your beautiful face!" Astrid squealed, then glanced over her shoulder at Ron, "Hmm? Sorry, can't. Going with Severus. You understand."

"Dear God, go with the boy!" Snape yelled, shoving Astrid towards Ron. Astrid just giggled.

"You're so giving, you only want my happiness, don't you?" she sighed and latched onto Snape once again.

"Ackerley, a miracle of nature has occurred and someone actually wants to go to the ball with you. I encourage you to seize this opportunity, as one like this may never come along again," Snape told her icily, eyes narrowed at Astrid.

"Hmm, what was that? Sorry, I was lost in your eyes," Astrid told him as Ron watched on in disgust. That was about as much as he could take though, and he quickly vacated the scene, not really wanting to know what this might lead to.

"This is blatant harassment," Snape told her flatly, but Astrid was too busy snuggling Snape to hear anything he was saying.

* * * * *

Two dresses lay spread out on Fausta's bed, and she looked between both, a considering look on her face. Both were black. Both were long. The only real difference was the flared sleeves on one dress. But, of course, such matters of style demanded intense consideration.

"I like this colour better," Fausta murmured, picking up one of the dresses, naturally Fausta could see the minute shade difference. She was, after all, Fausta Darcy.

"But the sleeves on this one," she considered aloud, tossing one dress aside and picking up the other one, "I just don't know." She sighed softly. It was hard being such a role model. Fausta continued her close scrutiny of two nearly identical dresses until the most horrible sight she had ever seen came skipping into the room. Fausta screamed at the top of her lungs and flung herself down to the ground to crawl under her bed, sure that the apocalypse was upon them, or some other such disaster. But no, it was only Astrid.

"Do you like it? I made it myself!" Astrid beamed with pride as she spun around in the Frankenstein of dresses. Fifteen different colours of blindingly bright plaid had been stitched together using some kind of crude yarn. Gigantic bows of hideous colours adorned the dress in every place they would fit. Astrid had fixed two of these bows around her pigtails and now bounded around the room in an outfit that would bring a clown to shame. And this was ignoring the shape of it, which seemed to balloon around her shoulders and waist, one could scarcely imagine how she managed that. And as if that wasn't enough, everything was fringed with a God-awful lace. She was truly a sight to behold.

"I CAN TELL! MY BLOODY EYES!!!" Fausta screamed, rarely one to spaz, but she always made special exceptions for Astrid.

"Isn't it pretty? I made a matching bowtie for Severus!" Astrid squealed and continued to bounce around the room, waving a bow-tie of similarly disturbing proportions.

"Oh my, I can't wait to see him in that," Fausta smirked, suddenly quite intrigued at the prospect.

"Don't you get any ideas," Astrid glared at Fausta, a dark cloud passing over her sunny demeanor, before she started bouncing around the room again, giggling like an idiot, presumably thinking about Severus in his new bowtie.

"You have nothing to worry about," Fausta assured Astrid, "well, this is assuming that Professor Snape doesn't have his wand when you try and put that ghastly thing on him."

"Ghastly?" Astrid looked almost hurt. Almost.

"Which dress would you wear, Astrid?" Fausta quickly changed the subject, motioning to the two dresses she was trying to decide between.

"I wouldn't be caught dead in either," Astrid shrugged pleasantly.

"Thank God," Fausta nodded and decided that both were completely acceptable.

"But if I had to choose, that one," Astrid said, pointing to one at random.

"Excellent," Fausta said and, inevitably, chose the other dress.

"You're incredible," Astrid shook her head.

"I know," Fausta said with a very rare pleasant smile.

"So we're having the welcome banquet tonight, eh?" Astrid said, flopping down onto her bed as Fausta waved her wand and a little blurry screen appeared around her so she could change.

"A keen observation," Fausta snorted.

"Are your parents coming?" Astrid asked curiously.

"No, my parents are far too important for these piddling little social gatherings," Fausta told Astrid, her tone even more condescending than usual.

"Darn. I was looking forward to meeting them," Astrid sighed, "It would really help in determining whether this attitude of yours is some kind of genetic defect or what."

"You'd know about genetic defects, wouldn't you? How is Ron anyway?" Fausta smirked, "that bowtie is really more his style than Snape's. I mean, Ron must be blind if he's hanging around with you, mustn't he?"

"So, is that stick up your arse a family heirloom, or what? Too bad I can't ask your parents," Astrid smiled pleasantly, "they're probably too busy appearing on 'The Antique's Roadshow' for the fifth time. Pressing business, you know."

"To say nothing of the Ackerley clan, who are probably going to cousin Billy Bob and cousin Amy Jo's wedding," Fausta snarled.

"That was last month!" Astrid protested, causing Fausta to drain of colour and stare at Astrid, "Didn't think I'd get you on that one." Astrid shook her head and with that, turned and departed.

"Yeah, well ... NUTS TO YOU!" Fausta yelled after Astrid, grumbling to herself as she pulled on one of the black dresses, unable to remember which one Astrid had hated more, but it didn't really matter. They were both black dresses after all ...

* * * * *

"I can't believe she blew you off for Snape," Hermione said none-too-delicately, almost reveling in Ron's squirming at any mention of Snape's name.

"Yes, well, that's how it goes," Ron laughed lamely before picking up his wand and pointing it at his head. Luckily, Harry snatched it away in time, and Ron only blew a rather seizable hole through a chair in the Gryffindor common room.

"Oh yes, that's really going to help things," Hermione snorted, "though I suppose with a hole in your head, you and Ackerley might have a little more in common."

"What is everyone's problem with Astrid?!" Ron demanded, glaring at his two 'best friends'.

"She's nuts," Hermione said bluntly.

"She really is off her nut," Harry helpfully backed Hermione up, receiving an annoyed look from Ron for his efforts.

"She's volatile," Hermione added.

"You have to admit, it's only a matter of time before she cracks and kills us all," Harry nodded thoughtfully.

"She likes Snape, that in itself is just evidence of a whole slew of new problems," Hermione shook her head.

"Snape is quite the prick," Harry nodded.

"Not to mention that she's treating you pretty awfully," Hermione nodded.

"Of course, Ron, you're a pretty big idiot, so you probably deserve it," Harry pointed out and barely dodged Ron's fist, "and you're touchy."

"What kind of friends are you?! The love of my life has rejected me! I don't know how much longer I can go on!" Ron yelled violently.

"Actually Ron, all you two did was make out," Harry said, making another superb point.

"Yes, well, it was very nice and I miss making out," Ron pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You disgust me," Hermione made a face.

"Do you want to kiss me?" Ron asked hopefully, pretty desperate right now.

"GOR!!! NO!!!" Hermione yelled, and with that, stormed out of the room.

"That was intelligent," Harry snorted and smacked Ron upside the head before following after Hermione.

"I miss Astrid," Ron pouted, rubbing at his head.

* * * * *

"You look nice," Draco squeaked, whipping around quickly to make sure Fausta's older brother wasn't around and had heard him say any of that, "but I mean that in a completely platonic way!" he added, just in case.

"You're an idiot," Fausta stated flatly.

"I'd rather be a live idiot than a dead ... " Draco searched for the word.

"Idiot?" Fausta offered helpfully.

"Thanks," Draco told her sarcastically. The evening was already going splendidly as far as both were concerned. Really. I'm not being sarcastic here.

"No problem, Malfoy," Fausta smirked, "don't even think of embarrassing me." She said offhandedly, causing Draco to do a bit of a double-take.

"Embarrass you? I'm more worried about that stupid friend of yours making a fool of us," Draco hissed.

"I'm not joking, Draco," Fausta said, suddenly grabbing the collar of Draco's dress robes and pulling him close to her, her eyes blazing, "if you should act in a manner that displeases me, you shall find yourself in a rather uncomfortable position. Shall I elaborate?"

"Please don't," Draco squeaked, letting out a sigh of relief as Fausta released him.

"Excellent," she smiled, "we'll have you trained yet."

"Trained?!" Draco demanded.

"You're displeasing me," Fausta warned.

"Sorry, Miss Darcy, ma'am," Draco said, quickly offering his arm to Fausta so that the two could make their way down to the banquet to greet their families.

* * * * *

The banquet was in full swing, a band of goblins played in the background, but the evening's entertainment was clearly found elsewhere. Severus Snape sat mortified, tugging at the awful little bowtie that Astrid had managed to clamp on his neck and had conveniently enchanted to remain on his neck until she saw fit to take it off. Snickers followed him the entire evening, and he had a list of students to clean the potions lab at least a mile long.

"Look on the bright side, Ron, that could be you," Hermione said cheerfully, watching Snape as he picked up a fork and began stabbing uselessly at the bowtie.

"Yeah," Ron said dejectedly, almost as if he did wish it were him. Which was quite incredible considering that Snape had, by that time, given up on the fork and was now trying to saw through the thing with a steak knife.

"Ron, come on, your parents are going to be here soon," Harry said, as if this were the kind of comment that would cheer Ron up. He wasn't really all there though, he was quite busy watching Snape as he now debated just jamming the steak knife into his jugular.

"Yeah," Ron said again, he was a barrel of laughs that evening.

"Honestly, what would your parents think if they knew you were dating a Slytherin?!" Hermione demanded, shaking her head, "and not any ordinary Slytherin! Astrid ACKERLEY!"

"Yeah," Ron nodded a bit, it swiftly became obvious that he wasn't even listening to them at all. He was watching Astrid as she swooned over Snape and fussed with the bowtie he was so set on destroying. He now had one of the candles in his hand and was trying to torch the bowtie.

"Ron, would you like to have wild monkey sex with Snape?" Harry asked, deciding to test the above theory.

"Yeah," Ron nodded absently.

"I wonder if Astrid would think that a turn on," Harry considered before wandering over to talk to her.

"Ron, honestly," Hermione sighed, "Harry is about to talk to Astrid about you having mad sex with Snape. So if you wouldn't mind snapping out of this blue funk for a moment ... "

"I didn't have sex with Snape," Ron said, blinking slightly as he watched Harry talk curiously with Astrid, who just grinned insanely and began nodding. She then looked at Ron and gave him the thumbs up, ever grinning like an idiot as she winked at him.

"If that's not a reason to run far, far away, I don't know what is," Hermione said, looking rather queasy.

"She seemed to like that idea quite a lot," Harry blinked, emotionally scarred, as he approached the table. Apparently Snape had heard him, because Snape was getting ready to start throwing steak knives at Ron.

"Mr. Weasley, I would thank you not to make advances on me! Ackerley here is more than I can handle," Snape yelled across the hall and it went absolutely silent for a few minutes as everyone turned to look at Ron. Harry and Hermione ducked under the table as Ron glanced around blankly before the hall practically exploded with laughter.

"What's this all about?" Ron asked and sighed before resuming mooning over Astrid.

* * * * *

The welcome feast was soon underway as the students' family members arrived. Naturally Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy made a dramatic entry halfway through the first course. Fashionably late, of course.

"Mother," Draco nodded genially, "father." Another nod. Fausta smirked.

"Draco," Lucius sounded more than slightly annoyed to be there. Naturally he had other, more important things to do, but Draco was his only son.

"This," Draco said when Fausta had reminded him to introduce her by elbowing him not-too-subtly in the stomach, "is Fausta Darcy."

"Charmed," Fausta smirked, glancing between Draco's parents.

"So good to see you again, Fausta," Narcissa said vaguely, her eyes anywhere but on Fausta.

"Someone must apologize for pulling you away from other matters for this trifle, and since it seems that Draco has no intention of doing this, I suppose I'll have to," Fausta sighed, looking apologetically at the Malfoy's.

"We've come to expect such ineptitudes from Draco," Lucius commented offhandedly, his eyes also on the feast around them, as if trying to decide who would make acceptable company and coming up short. Very short.

"Father!" Draco protested, his cheeks flushing lightly.

"Don't be a child, Draco," Fausta snapped and received an approving look from Narcissa.

"Fausta!" Draco whined, but stopped when he received an icy glare from all three of them.

"Who's that?" was yelled across the hall, and the source could only be Astrid.

"Oh no," Draco went pale.

"That's Draco's mum and dad," someone answered her from the Gryffindor table.

"HEY DRACO!" Astrid yelled, "YOUR DAD'S HOT!" she gave him the thumbs up and stuck her tongue out in approval before being yanked down into her seat by Snape, who continued to look absolutely mortified.

"What was that?!" Lucius demanded, his eyes wide.

"ER ... we're not really sure ... it just showed up one day and no one can seem to get it to leave," Draco grumbled, glaring over at Astrid, who had dragged Snape over to the Gryffindor table, getting a little tired of the constant barrage of English muffins at the Slytherin table. Naturally, Snape was screaming and moaning and putting up quite a fight, but Astrid didn't seem to notice.

"Some kind of infectious mould, I would expect," Fausta smiled pleasantly before motioning towards the table, "please, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy, make yourselves at home. I understand the surroundings are vile at best, but I suppose we had best tolerate them for Professor Dumbledore's sake."

"Excellent, Fausta," Lucius smiled, "Draco! Why didn't you offer us a seat?!" Lucius snapped, glaring at his son. Draco stopped shooting daggers at Astrid long enough to give his father a shocked look.

"Must be those fellows he's always hanging around with, I'm sure he couldn't have picked up such appalling manners from you, Mrs. Malfoy," Fausta smiled at Narcissa before glaring at Draco herself.

"EY!" Draco protested.

"Sit down and hush up," Lucius glared at his son.

"I begin to get the impression that you two are more fond of Fausta than of me," Draco glared at his parents but found a seat anyway and settled down to listen to an evening of Fausta and his parents talking about his faults.

* * * * *

Half way through the main course, everyone was quite sure that no more guests were coming, and Draco was quite relieved, as he assumed Damion Darcy wouldn't be making an appearance.

"I'm sorry to say it appears as though your brother has been tied up in other matters," Draco smirked, glancing over at Fausta before a dark shadow fell over him, spelling out his doom.

"I knew that would happen," Draco said dejectedly and ducked under the table, only to have the back of his dress robes grabbed and then find himself hanging in the air, a very angry Damion Darcy glaring at him.

" 'llo Damion," Draco managed to chock, tugging at the collar of his dress robes.

"If it isn't my favourite Malfoy," Damion grinned sadistically, "you wouldn't be trying to get away from me, now would you, Draco?"

"No, no, wouldn't think of it! I was just going under the table to ... ehm ... shine your shoes," Draco said lamely before finding himself on the ground, staring at Damion's shoes.

"That's sweet of you, Draco," Damion smirked, giving him a not-so-nice little nudge in the face with his foot. With this, Fausta sighed, deciding Draco had had enough and stood to glare at her brother.

"Damion, honestly, I can't take you anywhere," she spoke to him in very much the same way she spoke to Draco, "let him up, he's already just about swallowed his tongue in fear."

"But we were having fun," Damion grinned at his baby sister in typical bully fashion.

"Yes! Fun!" Draco squeaked from the floor.

"Draco, get up," Fausta sighed, grabbing the back of his dress robes and yanking him up.

"Make yourself scarce, Malfoy," Damion hissed, giving him a shove.

"Damion, I'm sure mother and father would simply love to hear about this behaviour," Fausta mirrored her brother's smirk.

"You can't tell me you want that little rat here!" Damion called in disbelief.

"Draco is - "

"Just leaving!" Draco eeped and scurried off before anyone else could grab onto his collar.

"DRACO!" Fausta yelled, then turned to her brother, "DAMION!"

"What?!" Damion huffed and found himself a seat, digging into the food as if nothing had happened.

"Draco was my date," Fausta hissed.

"Your ... what?" Damion demanded, looking up at Fausta in a clichéd, overprotective older brother sort of way.

"Oh, don't be an idiot, Damion," Fausta grumbled and sat back down as Damion ran off after Draco, who luckily had a head start. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy found themselves back at the table and glanced around quickly.

"Where's Draco gotten himself to now?" Lucius grumbled, hoping his son wasn't doing anything too stupid.

"You just never know with Draco," Fausta said pleasantly, "did you enjoy your chat with Professor Snape?"

"Yes ... although that ghastly girl with him was ... " Lucius glanced to Narcissa, searching for the right words, "does she have an eye twitch? I could have sworn she kept winking at me ... "

* * * * *

"Ackerley and now Weasley," one Slytherin girl shook her head, "if I were Professor Snape, I'd just ram a fork into my forehead and be done with it."

"I thought Weasley fancied Ackerley," a Ravenclaw said, it seemed the same conversation was going on at several tables.

"Maybe it's some kind of weird revenge," a Hufflepuff suggested, making a face.

"Maybe Weasley's just snapped," was a Gryffindor's contribution to the conversation.

"Maybe Ackerley's convinced them to have a threesome," Astrid whispered conspiratorially, but everyone stopped talking at this and just glared at Astrid, "or maybe not." She pouted and found her way back to her seat.

"Severus?" Astrid asked as she found her way back to her seat, sighing slightly.

"Dear God, what?" Snape asked dejectedly.

"What are your feelings about peanut butter?" Astrid asked, her eyes instantly lighting up.

"I have to go vomit endlessly now," Snape said as he got up from the table and started out of the hall.

"Ah, Severus! You're so witty!" Astrid chirped, looking around for a moment before tossing her rat onto the table. She smiled happily at little Severus and plopped him on Snape's plate, deciding that since they shared a name, they should also share their food.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Draco screamed as he raced past the table.

"Someone's trying to kill Malfoy!" a Hufflepuff yelled, "And it's not Fausta Darcy!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Draco continued as he ran around the table once again.

"What's he doing?" one Slytherin asked, watching Malfoy make circles around the table.

"PROFESSOR SNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPE!" Malfoy screamed, deciding he was the only one who could possibly help him.

"Not Malfoy too!" one Hufflepuff yelled and sound found himself on the ground, twitching.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Draco screamed as Damion began to catch up with him. It was at this opportune moment that Astrid should decide to get involved. She simply stood up in Draco's path and he fell to the ground, screaming and covering his eyes.

"MY EYEEEEEEEEEEEEES!" Draco screamed, flailing about on the ground.

Damion skidded to a stop, or rather slowed down enough that running into Malfoy stopped him the rest of the way. He blinked, watching Astrid as she pulled her wand from her homemade dress and began poking Malfoy in the forehead while giggling.

"What are you doing?" Damion asked curiously as he watched the odd girl assault Malfoy.

"Just accosting Malfoy! One of my favourite habits, it is," Astrid smiled pleasantly as Draco gave out a little shriek when she 'accidentally' gave him a jab in the eye.

"Oh ... " was all Damion could think to say.

"Want to give it a go?" Astrid smiled pleasantly and held out her wand, "he makes the most adorable noise when you get him in the eye." Astrid then made a move to illustrate this, back Malfoy flailed away from her general direction.

"Don't mind if I do!" Damion said almost gleefully and took the wand from Astrid, giving Malfoy a few quick jabs in the side, "I ... uh ... like your dress." Damion's cheeks reddened slightly.

"Thanks! I made it," she paused to kick Malfoy in the head, "myself!"

"It's very ... colourful. Brings out your eyes," Damion flushed a little deeper.

"Oh for the love of GOD!" Draco yelled and received several kicks.

"Yeah, I took this material from one of Malfoy's dress robes," Astrid pointed at a spot on her dress and Malfoy would have made a noise but he was currently making sure he still had all his teeth, "and I took this piece from Severus' bed sheets." She giggled and pointed to a patch over her heart.

"Oh ... is Severus your boyfriend?" Damion asked, his eyes narrowing a little.

"He's my little dumpling!" Astrid giggled, nodding.

"Damion, God, no, run! Run now!" Draco croaked and was soon eating wand.

"Oh ... is it ... serious?" Damion asked, scratching absently at the back of his neck.

"Well ... ehm ... that's sort of a complicated matter," Astrid said, considering.

"HE HATES HER GUTS!" Malfoy yelled before finding himself with a bloody nose.

"Oh, well ... I'm Damion," Damion (naturally) smiled and held out a hand to her.

"Astrid. Ackerley," Astrid stopped to consider this a moment, "Astrid Ackerley." She nodded.

"Delighted," Damion smiled, glancing down at his hand, which Astrid seemed to be ignoring.

"Quite," Astrid nodded primly before glancing down at Draco, "so, why were you running down Malfoy? Not that it's not a pastime I don't heartily endorse and wish more people would partake in."

"Oh, he was making a move on my sister," Damion explained bluntly.

"DRACO'S CHEATING ON FAUSTA?! YOU AWFUL LITTLE TWIT!" Astrid yelled and wound up to kick Draco in the head yet again, when Damion stopped her.

"No, no, my sister is Fausta," Damion blinked, wondering why he had stopped Astrid from kicking Malfoy, "but please, don't let that stop you."

"Of course," Astrid smiled and gave Malfoy a good thwack in the head, "wait ... you're Fausta's brother?" she blinked, looking at him with something along the lines of disbelief.

"Damion, what's taking you so long? I saw Draco go down ages ago and he's not that hard to keep on the ground," Fausta sighed, turning to glare at Astrid for a moment, "thank you for your help, Astrid."

"Oh, sorry Fausta. I was just talking to Astrid," Damion smiled pleasantly, "she's got a simply fantastic dress."

Fausta's eyes went wide and she stared at her brother in shock and disgust, "Are you absolutely BLIND?!"

"What d'you mean?" Damion winced slightly, "it's very ... creative."

"Hmph. See? Creative!" Astrid stuck her tongue out at Fausta before wandering back to her table, apparently done with Damion.

"What in the name of all things holy were you doing?!" Fausta demanded, glaring at her brother as he watched Astrid walk off, sighing dreamily.

"She's amazing ... who's this Severus kid? I'll rip him a new - "

"OH MY DEAR LORD!" Fausta shrieked, "you do not like Astrid Ackerley!"

"And why not? She's perfectly lovely!" Damion glared at his sister.

"She's perfectly deranged, Damion!" Fausta shot right back.

"Just tell me who this Severus snot is," Damion continued to glare icily at Fausta.

"Professor Severus Snape," Fausta returned her brother's glare.

"Professor?!" Damion yelled, "that's got to be violating some moral codes!"

"Well Damion, it's not exactly mutual," Fausta hissed.

"He's taking advantage of that poor, innocent girl?!" Damion demanded.

"You are not my brother," Fausta shook her head, picking up Draco, "come Draco."

"I want to go home," Draco whimpered as Fausta dragged him back towards his parents.