Harry Potter and Something or Other

Chapter Six
I'm Not Dead! I'm Feeling Much Better! I Think I'll Go For a Walk!

Chapter Six
I'm Not Dead! Etc.

Lord Voldemort stared at the parchment in front of him, evil red snakey eyes tearing up as he read over the words. He sniffed his little snakey nose and gave it a blow on a very dark, very evil black hankie.

"Oh, my darling daughter," Voldemort hissed as pathetically as any being of true evil can manage, "the time has finally come for you to join me. I only hope you won't reject me, like all the women at 'Happy Hour'." With this he chuckled a very ominous chuckle and sealed the letter, but he didn't put any postage on it. No, he was THAT evil.

* * * * *

"Mail's here!" Hermione astutely observed as owls began pouring in from the ceiling of the Main Hall. Down they tumbled towards the waiting hands of the Hogwarts students below. With one very notable exception. Yes, a very EVIL looking owl circled around the top of the Main Hall looking EVIL with an EVIL package in it's EVIL talons! MUAHAHAHA!!!! (Sorry. We'll stop that.)

Down the EVIL owl tumbled, towards the Slytherin table ... towards a girl at the Slytherin table ... towards ...

ASTRID ACKERLEY!!!!!

(You thought it was going to be Fausta, didn't you? You SUCKER!!!!!) The decidedly NOT NICE looking owl dropped the NASTY LOOKING letter in front of her before taking off out of the Main Hall with a hoot that boded of EEEEVIL!!!! (We're going for the subtle approach with this chapter.)

"What an evil looking package," Astrid said, glancing down at the evil looking package in front of her.

(Here Astrid pauses to remove the eye-goop from her eyes. Which is integral to the plot. You must know what we're doing at EVERY SINGLE MOMENT!!! Oh my god! Fausta is picking her nose!!! Ha ha ha, just kidding. Back to the EVIL.)

"Who would be sending you such a menacing package?" Fausta sneered, usually it was HER who was receiving not-altogether-wholesome mail.

"I'm not sure; it hasn't got any return address," Astrid said spookily, "I suppose we'll never know!"

"... you could open the letter," Fausta suggested flatly.

"My god! You're right!" Astrid agreed before tearing into the letter, which was housed in an evil black envelope, and was written with a not-all-that-frightening white gel-pen on foreboding black paper.

Dearest Astrid,

Hi! It's me! Your dad! No, I mean your real dad. Not that muggle sod back in Canada.

Who am I, I can hear you asking?

"GREAT SCOT! HE CAN HEAR MY THOUGHTS!" Astrid screamed before Fausta snatched the letter away and continued reading.

I am ... none other than ... the great ... and powerful ...

(Astrid goes to great lengths to restrain herself from writing 'Wizard of Oz'.)

HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED!!!!!! (Voldemort. Not Bill Gates.)

Yes, that's right. I am your father, Astrid.

"NO!" Astrid screamed, "that's not true! That's impossible! OBIIII-WAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!!"

Your mother was the only women I was ever able to pick up at Happy Hour. And oh, what a happy hour it was! In the back of my Chevy, I knocked your mother up in Reno, Nevada. And then I left her, because I am EVIL!!!!

So you see, you are my daughter! (Which is a direct consequence of me being your father.) And you must join me in an unholy alliance, so that we may wreak havoc upon the wizarding world and cause untold pain and misery!!!!

Please let me know when I can pick you up.

Daddy loves you!
Voldey.

Okay. By now you should have figured out that we are, in fact, screwing with you. Yes, we played you like a five cent kazoo!! Voldemort isn't really Astrid's father, and Astrid doesn't really know Obi-Wan Kenobi. Though she really wishes she did. Because he has a really nice ... padawan braid. Yeah.

AAAAH! OKAY! HE'S YOURS FAUSTA!!! OWWWWW!!!

Anyway. On to Chapter Six? Yes, I think so.

Chapter Six
(For the Third Time)
I'm Not blah blah blah

"The results from the DNA test are in, Draco. You're Harry Potter's sister."

Ha ha ha, okay, really sorry now. Okay, CHAPTER SIX, DAMNIT!!!

Chapter Six
(Really, We Promise This Time)
You Know the Drill

Last time we saw them, our heroes were in the Riddler's clutches, dangling high above a cage of rabid baboons on rollerskates.

"Holy shit, Fausta!" Astrid exclaimed.

Oh my god. You guys are too great. OKAY!!! Oh, forget it. I don't think we're going to write Chapter Six. This is it. This is Chapter Six. Have fun!

Also, please note that since we've gone a bit nuts with the Author's Notes in the last few chapters, most anything in brackets will be Author's Notes. Unless it's an aside, which may happen, just to screw you up! So you'll never know if it's part of the story or not! AH HA HA HA! Diabolical.

Chapter Six
When Hell Freezes Over

The soft chamber music of the goblin band floated through the air as the students and their parents took to the floor. Snape was actually pleased by the change of pace, as once Astrid realized that there were, in fact, goblins at the front of the dance, most of her energy was spent trying to throw chairs at them. (Astrid was not particularly fond of goblins. Go figure.)

"Isn't anyone going to try and stop her?" Harry asked as Astrid let out a war-cry and hurled another chair towards the goblins. No one really seemed to notice as the bass player went down, twitching under the weight of the chair.

"Do YOU want to try?" Hermione asked as she danced awkwardly past with Ron, who kept ramming Hermione into the other dancers, his eyes fixed on Astrid and her assault on the goblin hoard.

"It's kind of atmospheric, actually," Harry laughed nervously, glancing to Cho, his dance partner.

(Fausta just pointed out that Cho would have already graduated. Well, Fausta, you can just rot in hell. Cho failed a bunch of grades, cos she's a big dork.)

"FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY, PUT THE GOBLIN DOWN!" Snape yelled as Astrid lunged at one of the violin players, practically foaming at the mouth.

"How long d'you think it'll take her to get through the entire band?" Harry asked as Ron and Hermione made another pass.

"At the rate she's going, I'd give them another five minutes," Hermione answered, glancing over her shoulder to see Astrid gnawing on one of the goblin's shins as he tried desperately to crawl away.

"Do you remember when we used to get through a dance with the entire band in tact?" Harry wondered, watching the streak of plaid make for the other violinist.

"I remember when we used to eat English muffins," Hermione told him, shaking her head.

"Is no one else seeing this?" Harry asked, motioning over to where Astrid was currently bashing the first violinist over the head with his own instrument. Somehow the music continued on, and none of the other dancers seemed phased. Even Snape only paused to yell at Astrid when his punch cup needed refilling.

"NOT THE EYES!" one of the goblins screamed as Astrid brandished the first violinist's bow.

('It's called a bow, right?' Astrid, always the intelligent one, asks. She who can tell you the year in which each Hobbit in Lord of the Rings was born, but cannot identify 'that string thing that a violin-guy uses to make his violin work.' Yeah.)

"Ron? Are you seeing this? Crazed, homicidal maniac. Not dating material," Hermione shook her head.

"She's so nimble," Ron said dreamily, sighing happily as he watched Astrid scream and make for the punch bowl.

"NOT THE BLOODY PUNCH BOWL!" Snape objected, finally deciding to put a stop to this behaviour when his punch bowl was in jeopardy. Thinking quickly, he shoved the beautiful glass centrepiece into Astrid's hands and sent her on her way back towards the goblins.

"This is my last year. My last year. I won't have to put up with this ever again. My last year," Harry chanted to himself, shaking his head as he danced to the ever-shrinking goblin band's music.

"AAAAARGH!! THE PAIN!!!!" the cellist screamed as shards of glass went flying in all directions. The violist didn't even have a chance to scream.

(I hope this isn't too out there. Naaaah.)

* * * * *

"You Severus Snape?" Damion Darcy asked gruffly, glaring at the older man as he refilled his punch once again.

"How very astute," Snape drawled, not even looking up from the punch bowl.

"I think we need to have a word," Damion said with a very deep frown, glancing over at Astrid, still screaming like a crazed baboon.

"As you can see, I'm quite busy," Snape said before pulling a small flask from his robes and pouring the contents into his cup, his eyes brightening considerably with every drop, "so if you don't mind."

"I really think we need to have a word," Damion hissed, giving Snape a look and grabbing his arm.

"Look boy," Snape began, pausing to drain his cup, "contrary to popular belief, I'm not the school bicycle."

"Excuse me?" Damion arced a brow at the elder professor as Snape turned to fill his cup with punch again before stopping and just pulling the flask from his robes again.

"You heard me, boy," Snape said, taking a sip from his flask, "I said it loud and clear and you heard it and I'm not repeating it because you heard what I said because I said it for you to hear." All of Astrid's dreams had come true; Snape was drunk. Very, very drunk.

"Er, sir, I think maybe you should put the flask down," Damion suggested, glancing around in something near panic as Snape wrapped his arm around Damion and rested his head on his shoulder.

"Don't even think about taking my flask," Snape told him, shaking his head against Damion's shoulder, "this is all I have left. She's taken everything else. My dignity, my pride, she almost took my punch too. This is all I have." Snape waved the little flask in Damion's face before taking another sip.

"Sir, maybe we should get you out of here before you embarrass yourself," Damion nodded nervously, trying to haul Snape away, but he would have none of it.

"Have you seen my bow-tie?" Snape asked, trying to look down at his bow-tie, "It's a little late."

"It's a perfectly nice bow-tie," Damion told him sympathetically, looking around frantically for some way out of this conversation.

"Do you think so?" Snape asked, sniffling a little at Damion's kindness, "I mean, do you REALLY think so?"

"ER ... yes, of course," Damion nodded unsurely.

"You know, I'm a very attractive man," Snape started before finding himself on the floor and Damion on the other side of the Hall, "I'M SERIOUS!" Snape yelled after him before passing out on the floor.

* * * * *

"The way you let Damion knock your teeth out was really quite pathetic, Draco," Fausta told him, sounding none-too-impressed with her date.

"Right, next time I'll ask him to stick solely to my body," Draco nodded, it was very hard to tell whether he was joking or not.

"You could always grow a spine," Fausta suggested offhandedly, shrugging a little.

"Stand up to you and Damion?" Draco asked, sounding rather frightened by the prospect.

"What? Who said stand up to ME? No, you twit! Stand up to my brother," Fausta gave him an annoyed look.

"Of course ... I think it would just be easier to dig myself a hole," Draco frowned slightly.

"I can't believe you're still hanging on to that pathetic bear after all this time," Fausta shook her head, of course referring to the incident that had started this entire mess. (See Tamz, we were getting to it. Sha.)

"Don't you bring Mr Snuggles into this!! He's an innocent!" Draco yelled, earning him some rather odd looks from the dancers around him.

"Draco, it was a teddy-bear," Fausta stated flatly.

"MR SNUGGLES WAS MORE THAN A TEDDY-BEAR! HE WAS MY BEST FRIEND! He was my only friend ... "

---FLASHBACK---

Draco sits at a small table with a ratty looking old teddy-bear. The bear has only one ear and one of it's eyes is hanging on by a thread. Make no mistake, this wasn't the wear-and-tear of love; Mr Snuggles was punished.

"Do you want another cookie, Mr Snuggles?" Draco asked the little bear, smiling happily from under the oversized straw hat adorned with giant sunflowers.

Mr Snuggles stared at Draco.

"I said, do you want another cookie, Mr Snuggles?" Draco asked again, this time a little more forcefully.

Mr Snuggles stared at Draco.

"ANSWER ME YOU LOUSY BASTARD!!! YOU CAN'T IGNORE ME LIKE MUMMY AND DADDY! I HATE YOU MR SNUGGLES!" Draco screamed, relieving the bear of one of it's arms.

"What was that? Oh yes, I'd like another cookie too, Mr Snuggles," Draco nodded pouring the contents of the cookie bag into his mouth ...

---END FLASHBACK---

"Draco, when Damion ripped of his head, he was pretty much just a torso and a head anyway," Fausta shook her head disdainfully.

"It doesn't matter!!! Mr Snuggles will be avenged!! I miss him so much!" Draco began to sniffle now.

"Draco, it happened five years ago," Fausta sighed, "and if you get my dress damp, I'll get Damion to tear off your head."

"Okay," Draco sniffled, defeated for the moment, casting a glare across the dance floor at Damion as he let his mind drift ...

---FLASHBACK THE SECOND-

"I like mummy's blue dress the most!" Draco said, modelling said blue dress as he danced around in front of his mother's floor-to-ceiling mirror, "What do you think, Mr Snuggles?" Draco asked the legless bear.

Mr Snuggles stared at Draco.

"No YOU look like a whore!" the thirteen year old Draco yelled back at Mr Snuggles.

Mr Snuggles stared at Draco.

"Hmm, maybe we should burn all these dresses," Draco nodded, looking down at himself, "this one makes my butt look huge anyway."

Mr Snuggles stared at Draco.

"You don't have to AGREE with me, you uncaring son of a bitch!" Draco screamed before the slamming of a door startled him.

"OH NO! Mum and dad are home! This is all your fault, you stupid cross-dressing whore!" Draco yelled, bringing Mr Snuggles to the head-and-torso stage which Fausta had mentioned ...

---END FLASHBACK THE SECOND---

(Do all you Draco fans want to gut us yet? We only do this because we love the silly cross-dressing pyromaniac. Really, we do.)

* * * * *

Ron watched as Professors McGonagall and Bob dragged Snape's limp carcass away from the dance floor. (Astrid is shocked to learn she has been spelling the word 'carcass' wrong. My world is crashing down around me. Nothing makes sense anymore. Dear god ... next thing you'll be telling me Hobbits aren't real ... ) Professor Snape yelled some rather lewd things across the dance floor, which unfortunately everyone heard, as the band was down to a single flute player, who was currently running back and forth across the stage, Astrid close behind him.

"I hope they don't charge extra for this," Dumbledore mused, looking at the little pile of goblin carcasses, "Well, I think that's a splendid way to end this night's festivities." He nodded before raising his voice to talk to the entire Hall, "I think the night's merriments will end on that note. Students, please (because I know how much you guys love my spelling related idiocy, a brief rant: Open letter to the morons at Microsoft: You fix wnat. I got over that. You don't fix pelase?! COME ON! I type 'pelase' like fifteen times a day!! FIX PELASE!!!! Thanks.) Students, please escort your parents to the housing arranged for them in the third floor corridor, then return to your dormitories. Classes will commence tomorrow at nine am, when you will take your parents to class with you. Excepting potions class, which will not be held until at least noon."

After escorting their parents to the makeshift dorms in the third floor corridor, all the students made their way back to their dorm rooms without too much fuss. The talk mainly settled on Snape's inebriation, Astrid's violent attacks on the band, and Mr Snuggles.

"Snape was drunk?!" Astrid demanded, eyes widening, "and I wasn't there to take advantage of him?! Blasted goblins. Always foiling my plans. But they'll pay. Oh yes, they'll pay."

"They haven't already?" Fausta asked sceptically, she herself had had quite a lovely evening reminding Draco of his decapitated teddy-bear.

"They got off light," Astrid grumbled, obviously quite sore about missing Snape's drunkenness.

"Did you see? Professor Snape was trying to pick up that surly looking kid. I think he's Fausta Darcy's brother," a Hufflepuff said more loudly than he really should have. You would've thought they'd have learned by now, what with Fausta dolling out the pain.

"WELL, FUCK ME!" Astrid screamed and everything came to a dead halt and all eyes fell on Astrid. She glanced around quickly before narrowing her eyes, "WHAT?!" With this Astrid rolled her eyes and stormed off down the hallway.

"That was bloody brilliant," Fausta grinned, following after Astrid before everyone else followed after them. (Lots of following. Oh yeah. DOWN WITH THESAURI!!!)

(Well. That just bumped the rating up to R. Astrid is so filthy. Hey - at least we didn't leave the typo. Astrid typed 'quicky' instead of 'quickly'. Can we say Freudian slip?)

* * * * *

The week continued on in much the same fashion, with Astrid encouraging Snape to indulge in his budding alcoholism, Damion roughing up Draco and trying to get Snape alone and uninebriated for a moment, and Ron trying to get Astrid's attention for a little while. Fausta spent the week keeping her brother from committing a homicide on Hogwarts grounds, and Harry spent the week thanking the lord his parents weren't alive to see this.

The only event really worth mentioning would be Quidditch tryouts. Which occurred on the Thursday, though that really isn't of any importance to the plot. We just thought it would be worth mentioning that it happened, not on a Wednesday, but a Thursday. Anyway, Thursday at Quidditch practice, Astrid walked onto the field, carrying her (DAMNIT!!! What's the beater stick thing called? *breaks out 'Quidditch Through the Ages'* ... hee hee ... shuntbump. That sounds dirty. Okay, they're just called bats. But wasn't that worth it for the shuntbump thing? I bet Astrid would like to shuntbump Snape. Hee hee. *ahem*) carrying her bat and a vintage 1952 Swiftstick, (which also sounds so very dirty). As soon as she stepped out onto the pitch, Draco began shaking his head.

"No. Oh no. NO," Draco said adamantly, raising his broomstick as if he was going to beat Astrid with it, "this is Slytherin's last chance for glory and I'm not having YOU muck it up!" (I said muck! *shifty eyes*)

"But Mr Snuggles so wants to see me play!" Astrid said, holding up the teddy-torso that could only be Mr Snuggles.

"WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?!" Draco screamed, lunging towards her, hands outstretched towards what remained of Mr Snuggles.

"While I was very non-discreetly rummaging through all the things in your room, I came upon what could only be Mr Snuggles," Astrid grinned wickedly as she pushed off from the ground, flying out of Draco's reach, "Damion still has the head, by the way. He uses it as a pin cushion."

"MR SNUGGLES!!!!!" Draco screamed, taking off before a shrill whistle brought him back down to the ground, a sheepish look on his face as Madam Hooch glared at him.

"I thought I told you all to stay on the ground," she stated sternly, giving Draco a pointed look.

"But ... but, Mr Snuggles!" Draco whimpered, pointing over at Astrid who just shrugged and made a 'crazy' motion to Madam Hooch.

"Yes ... Mr Snuggles ... right! Okay, everyone who's trying out, step forward and state your house and the position you're trying out for," Madam Hooch looked over Draco's shoulder, leaning over to watch Astrid kicking something behind a bush.

"Astrid Ackerley, Slytherin house, beater," Astrid chirped, giving whatever it was behind the bush another swift kick before wandering over to Madam Hooch, "I've brought my own bludger." Astrid nodded before producing Mr Snuggles' torso from her Quidditch robes.

"NOOOOO!" Draco screamed, hopping onto his broomstick and dive bombing Astrid. Luckily, Astrid had anticipated this and smacked Mr Snuggles into Draco's face before taking to her Swiftstick and flying off over Madam Hooch's head.

"Well, she's got nice form," Madam Hooch nodded as Draco did a face-plant into the ground, clutching Mr Snuggles to his broken face.

"Give me a lap around the pitch," Madam Hooch called up to her and Astrid obliged. She was only halfway round the pitch when Draco joined her in the air, a vicious look on his bruised and bloodied visage.

"You will PAY, Ackerley! You will feel the wrath of Mr Snuggles!" Draco yelled after her, "there was a reason Mr Snuggles had no limbs! YOU WILL FEEL PAIN!!!" Draco was so caught up in yelling at Astrid that he didn't notice the bludger hurtling towards him until it hit him squarely in the chest and Draco went spiralling down towards the ground.

"Draco! What are you doing?" Madam Hooch yelled up at the tumbling carcass (I like the word carcass!) as it careened towards the earth at startling speeds.

"AAAAAAAAAAAH! CATCH MR SNUGGLES!!!!" Draco screamed as he plummeted towards the Quidditch pitch, only to be saved about ten feet up by Astrid grabbing a hold of his robes. He stopped screaming to glance up at her, a horrified look on his pallid face, "NOOOOO!!! LET ME DIE!" Draco screamed.

Astrid gave a little shrug before letting go of Draco and letting him perform another magnificent face plant.

"That was remarkable," Madam Hooch told Astrid as she ran up to the pair, Draco still twitching on the ground, "you would make a brilliant seeker."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!" Draco managed, twitching and convulsing ever more violently.

"Thanks Madam Hooch, but if it's all the same to you, I'd prefer being a beater. Gives me an excuse to smack things about with a big, wooden stick," Astrid grinned none-too-sanely as she touched down.

Astrid and Madam Hooch walked back into Hogwarts talking animatedly about Astrid's future Quidditch career while Draco lay broken on the Quidditch Pitch. But at least he had Mr Snuggles. It wasn't until several hours later when someone came looking for Draco that they found the other prospective Quidditch players behind a bush next to the Quidditch pitch. But by then it was too late. Astrid was Slytherin's newest beater.

* * * * *

"So Fausta, before we begin, I need to ask you a few questions. For example, what are your views on Death Eating?" Professor Eichmann asked, giving her a curious look.

"Did you say ... Death Eating?" Fausta asked with a blink.

"No, no, I said meth-eating. I like meth," Eichmann said, looking around suspiciously.

"You like meth." Fausta nodded.

"Oh yeah. Meth is my friend. I do meth all the time. In fact, I think I'll go do some meth right now," Eichmann said and ran off screaming at the top of his lungs.

(Just kidding. As tempting as that was to put into the story, we decided that we shouldn't joke about meth. KIDS! JUST SAY NO TO DRUGS!!)

"So Fausta, your training goes as far as the decollo charm, obviously, but how much further does it go?" Professor Eichmann asked as he circled Fausta.

(We would like to mention that, of course the decollo spell is sanctioned in competition. It's perfectly fine to - with a single word - cause your opponents head to fly from his body in a fabulous spray of crimson. That is so sanctioned. Yeah.)

"Decollo was as much as my father was willing to teach me. I'm sure you'll agree that it alone has questionable uses in competition," Fausta smirked lightly, following Eichmann with her eyes.

"I suppose what I'm asking, Fausta, is how far would you be willing to go?" Eichmann asked, perking a brow in curiosity.

"Why, as far as you can take me," Fausta continued to smirk.

(Oh my god! That's vaguely sexual! Ha ha ha! Fausta is such a whore! Aaaw ... Fausta knew that was coming. Never mind then.)

"What if I were to suggest the adflictatio charm?" Eichmann asked, carefully gauging Fausta's reaction.

"I'd say I'm way ahead of you! ADFLICTATIO!" Fausta yelled, causing Eichmann to spontaneously combust. The end.

(Sorry ... we're getting really hyper. Just pretend that last thing with Fausta didn't happen.)

"I would say that's a brilliant idea," Fausta was almost purring now.

"Excellent," Eichmann smirked, readying his wand ...

* * * * *

Breakfast the next morning was quiet, as usual, until Astrid arrived. The barrage of English muffins was especially thick this morning, as the Slytherins were not pleased with the state their Seeker was in, and with a Quidditch game later that week, they couldn't see how they were going to come out ahead.

"Watch it, watch it!" Astrid yelled in uncharacteristically bad spirits that morning as she tried to shield the glass of what appeared to be orange juice she carried in her hand. (Note the 'appeared to be', cos we're just that subtle.)

"What's got your knickers in a knot?" Draco asked sourly through the many bandages now adorning his beautiful face. He winced in anticipation of some kind of physical assault, but when none came, he opened his eyes to see Astrid grinning at him.

"Never you mind, my dear," Astrid gave a cracked giggle, patting the pseudo-orange juice. (See? Subtle.)

"Astrid, you're frightening me," Draco whimpered just as Fausta arrived at the table.

"Still an invertebrate," Fausta mumbled in annoyance as she sat down next to him and began spooning herself some scrambled eggs.

"Isn't this a lovely morning? I think this is a lovely morning. Where's Professor Snape?" Astrid asked, as subtle as ever as she glanced around the Hall, eyes lighting up as the professor in question walked through the door, "Severus! Darling! How are you?" Astrid chirped as the teacher approached the table.

"A word, if I might, Ackerley," Snape grumbled, obviously not too pleased about having to be the one to deliver the news to Astrid.

"Severus, dear, I squeezed this orange juice just for you, here, have some," Astrid said, practically forcing it down his throat.

"I really do need to see you outside," Snape motioned out of the Main Hall, an urgent look on his face.

"Take. The. Juice." Astrid said, her voice deathly quiet.

"Astrid, join me in the hall a moment," Snape said silkily, knowing it was the only way he would get Astrid to stop this nonsense with the juice.

Astrid blinked, immediately plopped the juice on the table and dashed out the Main Hall dragging Snape after her.

"You're sure you were the only one to take a blow to the head?" Fausta glanced over at Draco as she grabbed for her orange juice and CONVENIENTLY grabbed the wrong glass. Ha ha ha. Ha ha ha!! MUAHAHAHA!!!! *ahem* Fausta downed the entire glass as she glanced down at her plate and was just about to look back at Draco when who should run up to the table but RON!!!!! AAAH!! THE HORROR!!

"Where's Astrid?" Ron demanded, causing Fausta to snap her head up to look at him. And then a very funny thing happened. The love potion started to take effect. (Yes, of course that's what it is. If you hadn't figured that out ... you have larger problems than we can deal with.) Fausta blinked slowly, looking down to the table for a moment before her gaze fell back on Ron. Wonderful, handsome, strapping Ron. (Strapping. Oh god, I love it.)

"Never mind Astrid," Fausta purred, climbing onto the table to grab Ron's shirt collar and pull him towards her in what would have been one of the most passionate kisses ever to grace Hogwarts had Ron not been screaming and flailing his arms madly.

"AAAAAAH! GERROF!! THAT'S NOT FUNNY!" Ron screamed when Fausta finally released him.

"Have I ever told you how absolutely sexy I think you are?" Fausta asked, looking suggestively at Ron from her place on the table. She probably would have been quite alluring herself if she weren't kneeling in scrambled egg.

"No, and I'd like to keep it that way," Ron said as he backed away from the table.

"Oh, Ron," Fausta threw back her head and laughed, "I don't bite. Unless you want me to." With this she winked at Ron and resumed purring.

This was all Ron needed. He turned abruptly and ran screaming from the Main Hall. (No, really.) Draco laughed up at Fausta, shaking his head.

"That was brilliant! I can't believe you kissed him though; you don't know where he's been," Draco made a face, "but to make such a sacrifice just to emotionally scar that horrible Weasley. Fausta, I have a new respect for - " Draco would have finished if Fausta hadn't grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, a dangerous glare on her face.

"I'd watch how you talk about my darling Ronny," Fausta hissed menacingly, before shoving Draco back into his seat, leaping off the table and running after her lovely Weasley-dumpling. (Dumpling!)

Draco stared after her, dumbfounded as Astrid reappeared in the Hall, looking quite disappointed as she made her way over to the Slytherin table. She completely ignored the look on Draco's face and began searching the table until she found what she was looking for. An empty glass. She looked at it, paused, blinked, before yelling, "WELL, FUCK ME!" and storming out of the Hall.