Bad Medicine

Epilogue

Harry's robe was on fire. He patted out the flames and glared at Malfoy, who sat with Hermione's head cradled on his shoulder. She recited from a scroll in her hands that described complicated ingredients for a potion they would be concocting for Snape's class. Harry, Ron, and Draco ignored her, as usual. Malfoy's wand rested loosely under his hand, but he was six feet away. Surely, he couldn't have set Harry's robe on fire from that distance. Harry turned his gaze to Ron, who still wore the rather dazed grin he'd been carrying on his face for a week. Next to him sat Pansy Parkinson, who had astonishingly announced her undying love for him and kissed him in front of everyone after Herbology a week ago, and now spent every waking moment clinging to Ron's hand.

Bizarre though it was, it had squelched Ron's constant haranguing of Hermione in regards to Draco. Harry still wasn't comfortable with that relationship, but it was obvious Malfoy was passionately in love with her. The Slytherins had, strangely, banded together in a united front on the morning Draco appeared with Hermione in tow. Gossip had abounded, of course, but it was in covert whispers only. No one wanted to mess with an enraged crowd of Slytherins, backed by Harry Potter, who had no comment on the relationship. The general consensus was that Draco was using Hermione and would unveil his secret plot in due time. Harry never entirely discounted the theory and kept his eyes on Malfoy at all times.

Draco didn't help matters by snidely referring to "the plot" as often as possible.

"Going to the library to see Hermione," he would say. "Got to keep her twisted around my little finger so she'll be blind to my machinations, you know." Or: "There's Hermione. Look how happy she is. All according to The Plan, of course."

Harry poked the cinders that smoldered on his robe with the end of his wand and shot a sideways glance at Draco, who looked up from nibbling at Hermione's ear long enough to give Harry a conspiratorial wink.

Bloody git. Harry sighed in frustration. It was damned uncomfortable hanging around with Ron and Hermione these days, now that their Slytherin pets were in constant attendance. Maybe Harry should find himself a Slytherin. He looked over at the Slytherin group lounging by the lake nearby. Millicent Bulstrode? Harry shuddered. The most attractive one in the group was Blaise Zabini, and he was definitely not Harry's type. Harry looked back to the lake and saw an attractive girl walk by. She smiled coyly and waved at him.

He rubbed his eyes for a moment. Bloody hell, it was Ginny Weasley! When did she grow up and turn into that... that... woman? Harry cleared his throat.

"Going for a walk," he said casually. The others made noncommittal noises and Harry knew he'd be sorely missed.

"Wait up, Ginny!" he called.

Who needed a Slytherin?