Sleepovers, Slytherins, and Seafood

"I feel kind of bad about biting its head off," Pansy admitted.

"Hmm," Draco said non-commitedly.

Pansy poked at the small, headless octopus, pushing it around the plate. Its small tentacles stuck up in the air, protruding from the bitten-off stump of its body. Blaise Zabini moved to take a closer look, staring at the small suction cups on its appendages.

"I mean, it's just a baby," Pansy continued.

"It's hard to eat something that looks so...alive," Blaise muttered.

Pansy nodded her agreement and picked up the small, mutilated creature.

"Yeah. I'm gonna bury it."

Draco looked up from the menu, disgusted, and shook his head irritably.

"You're going to bury it?! Freak," he said scathingly, but, still with a tinge of affection.

Pansy glared at him and protectively cupped the remains of her dinner in her hands.

"But it's just a baby," she cried.

"It was dead before you ate it. Stop feeling bad," Draco ordered imperiously.

Blaise and Pansy looked at each other and, then at the octopus.

"Yeah, but if we didn't eat them, they wouldn't be killed," Blaise said.

"And the world would be ruled by baby octopus, and, you know, they would certainly eat our babies. And they wouldn't bury them," Draco cried dramatically, attracting the notice of a few other patrons of the restaurant.

"I'm still burying it," she said with determination.

Crabbe and Goyle looked up from their quickly emptying plates and joined in the conversation, much to Draco's annoyance.

"Where?" Crabbe asked.

Pansy thought for a few moments and glanced at Blaise for help. He shrugged.

"Umm....I guess under the crab's shell in the soup bowl," she said hesitantly.

Draco looked at them both, then down at the octopus, and blinked.

"You're going to bury it under the remains of another dead sea creature? Of course, makes perfect sense," he said dryly.

"Oh, shut up," Pansy said affectionately.

She dug in the cracked remnants of the crab's shell, hollowing out a resting place for the small octopus. Placing it down carefully, she began covering it with the slivers and fragments of shell, until it was completely invisible.

"Go ahead, Pansy. Hide your secret shame,"Draco said mockingly.

She looked at him blankly as she patted the loose covering into place.

"What are you talking about, Draco?" she asked impatiently.

"You know what I mean, you octopus killer," he whispered, his eyes alight with laughter.

She began to laugh helplessly, hiding her face in her cupped hands.

"Octopus killer, octopus killer," Draco began to chant maliciously.

Crabbe and Goyle quickly followed their leader's example, and, soon, the whole table of Slytherins was chanting in creepy little whispers. The whole restaurant was looking at them openly now, and, the manager appeared to be slightly peeved.

"Shut up, before we get in trouble!" Pansy urged, her face red from laughter.

Draco waved his hand, shushing his followers. He smiled coldly at the watching manager, who merely scowled in return.

"What a bastard," he remarked casually.

"Nice, Draco," Blaise murmured sarcastically.

The table became silent for a moment, and, Draco began to idly dig through the crab's remains with his fork.

"I hate crabs. Terrible creatures," he ruminated.

Blaise stared at him blankly, and shook his head in wonderment. His black hair fell in his face as he did, concealing his eyes.

"And what is behind this particular unreasoning prejudice?" he managed to ask.

Draco looked up from his perusal of the crab, his face a perfect mask of indignation. He glared furiously at his giggling friends.

"Hey! I have a perfectly good reason," he protested.

Pansy rolled her eyes in obvious disbelief. Her face was still flushed from her earlier hysterics, giving her face a healthy, glowing look.

"Like the reason you hate cockatiels? What was it again? Oh, yeah, they look at you funny," she said derisively.

Draco glanced away, carefully not looking at any of his companions.

"That's not the only reason. I don't like their feathers. Trying to make themselves look prettier than..." he began, but quickly stopped.

"Prettier than? Please, do go on, Draco," Pansy encouraged in a sickly sweet tone.

"Oh, fine. Trying to make themselves prettier than me," he admitted grudgingly.

Draco shot a petulant look at Blaise as the other boy hastily choked the laugh trying to escape his throat.

"That's ridiculous," Pansy said bluntly.

"And they call me 'pretty boy'" Draco added.

"All of them?"

"Yeah."

"I didn't know all cockateils were blind," Pansy said innocently.

Draco glared and threw a piece of bread at her, which she deftly managed to avoid. However, it hit Theodore Nott right in the face. The skinny boy just placed it on a plate, and went back to watching the conversation.

"Shut up, O Insignificant One. I hope you know I am more than pleasant to look at. I'm actually quite gorgeous," he answered haughtily.

"Well, you don't have to look at yourself all day," she spat back bitingly.

"I'd like to."

"You're sick."

Silence.

"Now, about the crabs?" Blaise reminded gently.

"Oh, yeah. Terrible bloody creatures."

"And, again, why?" Pansy asked with an irritated sigh.

"Well, they make me perform manual labor."

"What? You blame them for....I'm confused."

"You're always confused, Pansy."

"Manual labor? How do they make you do that?"

"You have to crack their shells open, don't you? I call that labor."

"That's just sad. What, do you want them to shell themselves?"

"Yes!"

"Sad."

* * *

"Where are all the Slytherins?" Harry asked curiously, glancing at the empty tables across from them.

"Having an orgy in the dungeon," Dean said calmly.

"What?!" Harry gasped.

Hermione glanced up from her book, and patted his hand reassuringly.

"Don't worry, Harry. They're not doing any such thing," she murmured then returned to her reading.

Harry looked at Ron helplessly.

"Some sort of celebration thingie," Ron supplied helpfully.

"Oh," Harry said, and became silent.

Ron looked at his two friends, one absorbed in thoughts and the other in a book. Neither spoke. Sighing softly, he munched idly on a pastry. Eventually, someone would have to speak, he figured. As he ate, Hermione slowly turned the page, her eyes never leaving the printed words. She had that slack-faced, trance-like look she always got when she was reading something particularly interesting. She was usually lost to the world when she was like that and useless for several hours. He turned his attention to Harry, who was staring raptly at nothing.

"So, uh, Harry, are you excited about the new Quidditch season?" he asked hopefully.

"Yeah," Harry replied listlessly, oblivious to his friend's words.

Ron gave them both up as lost causes and looked for other sources of amusement. The only remaining Gryffindors were Neville and Dean, and, neither of them seemed interested in striking up a conversation.

"What sort of celebration?" Harry asked out of the blue.

Ron was confused for a moment, but quickly remembered the missing Slytherins, obviously the source of Harry's preoccupation.

"I'm surprised you haven't heard. It's all they've talked about since school started," Ron said.

"It's only been a week," Harry said with a shrug.

"Well, Malfoy organized it all. I think they're going to some seafood restaurant."

"How'd they get permission from the teachers? I mean, especially now, with Voldemort and....everything," Harry asked.

Ron cringed slightly at the name, but answered.

"I'm not sure. I think they had to get all sorts of permission slips and have their parents check them out and everything. Snape was all for it, so that probably helped," Ron said.

Harry looked down at the table, his brow slightly furrowed in thought. This time, the pause was shorter, and, he quickly spoke again.

"What are they celebrating?" he asked.

Ron began to answer, but stopped. After a few seconds, he shrugged.

"I don't think they ever actually said."

"What could the Slytherins be so excited about?" Harry thought aloud.

Hermione hissed impatiently and looked up from her book.

"What else?! Voldemort's return, of course," she snapped.

The two boys jumped as she spoke, shocked by her sudden contribution to a conversation they hadn't thought she had heard. Harry's eyes darkened as her words sunk in.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Well, I didn't hear it from their own mouths, but really. What else could it be?"

Ron nodded harshly in agreement, his anger radiating from him in waves.

"How could Snape let them celebrate something like that?" he snarled.

Hermione pursed her lips thoughtfully and gazed over at the staff tables. Snape was not present, but, he often took his meals in the privacy of his rooms.

"I'm not sure...," she murmured.

Ron stood up and stretched.

"Let's go to the common room. We can talk about it there," he said.

Harry nodded and followed his friend's example. Hermione sat still for a few more moments, caught up in her thoughts. Ron tapped her lightly on the shoulder, and, with a smile, she followed them upstairs.

* * *

The Slytherins were laughing as they stumbled down into the dark dungeons. Their familiarity with the halls kept them from harming themselves, though occasionally someone stumbled. The few candles decorating the walls were faint and dim, barely giving enough light to see by. Draco scowled slightly.

"Lumos."

A glowing light appeared before him, and, he smiled, pleased.

"We really need to get better lighting down here," Blaise commented.

"If you weren't out so late, you wouldn't need it," a stern, angry voice admonished.

Swallowing nervously, he turned around to see the dark outline of a man.

"Professor Snape," Draco said unnecessarily.

"Well?" Snape said impatiently.

"I'm sorry, sir. We lost track of the time," he apologized.

Snape nodded tightly and motioned for them to go to their rooms. As they headed toward the entrance, he reached out a hand and stopped Draco. As soon as the door closed behind the students, he turned to Draco.

"Did the evening go well?" he asked.

Draco smiled, knowing the man couldn't see it in the dark. It was always nice when the aloof professor expressed an interest in his students' well-being.

"Yes, sir. It was brilliant," he answered enthusiastically.

"Good to know. You can tell me more about it later if you wish. Now, get to bed," Snape said with his usual lack of inflection.

In the fading light, Draco thought he saw a smile on the man's face. Then again, it might just be a trick of the light. He hurried through the doorway, unwilling to risk Snape's anger. When he was safely behind it, he saw the other students sitting in front of the fire in the common room, waiting for news.

"He's not angry," he assured them.

There were a few exhaled breaths and sighs of relief before the room became silent again. Draco paused for effect. After a few seconds, he smiled.

"And he says to get your sorry arses into bed," he said sweetly.

Pansy threw a pillow at him, knocking him backwards against the door with a thud. He glared, grabbed up the offending article, and tossed it at her. After a few minutes, it was a House-wide battle.

* * *

Outside the door, Severus Snape listened to the sounds of the ongoing pillow fight. He had known it was pointless to tell them to go to bed, but, he had had to try. Of course, he could always go in and yell at them, but, tonight, it just didn't feel right. Shaking his head ruefully, he moved away from the door and down the dark hallway. As he passed the few remaining candles and lamps, he extinguished them with a wave of his wand. In the now almost complete darkness, he was nearly invisible.

He headed up the long flight of stairs, climbing until he reached the level he wanted. He looked at the ancient griffin statue guarding the entrance to the headmaster's quarters and scowled. The newest, idiotic password had slipped his mind. He mentally ran through a list of Dumbledore's favorite sweets and tried to figure out which ones he hadn't used yet. He thought the current password had been a Muggle sweet, something minty.

"Altoids," he offered.

Surprisingly, the entrance opened and he quickly stepped into the narrow stairwell. As he glanced up, he saw Dumbledore smiling down at him benignly. Snape muttered a particularly vicious curse and climbed up to meet him.

"I was worried you had forgotten the password," Dumbledore said with a smile.

"I have a perfect memory," Snape answered with a perfectly straight face.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, but did not pursue the matter further. He stepped into his office, moving to the side to let Snape pass. As soon as Snape had entered, he moved to his desk and motioned for the professor to have a seat.

"Sit, Severus, I'm sure you're tired," Dumbledore encouraged.

"I'm nothing of the sort," Snape protested, but sat down.

Dumbledore looked at the other man closely, noting the dark circles under his eyes, the paler than normal cast of his skin.

"I suppose the students are back, then?" Dumbledore asked.

Snape nodded slowly without looking up.

"And?"

"It went well," Snape snarled impatiently.

"Severus, relax," Dumbledore ordered.

The dark-haired man slumped into the chair, his head drooping wearily. When he glanced up at the headmaster, his face was drawn with exhaustion and stress. Dumbledore reached over and patted his hand reassuringly.

"We have to do something about them," Snape muttered.

Dumbledore nodded his agreement.

"They're no different than the other students. But, they're ostracized," hissed Snape.

Dumbledore looked at the tired, angry man, who already had too much to deal with. He stood up and walked over to the other side of the desk. Snape stood, too, and, Dumbledore placed a comforting hand around his shoulders.

"Something has to be done, Severus. I know that, and, I think I have an idea as to what. But now, you need to get some sleep. We'll talk more in the morning," Dumbledore said gently.

Snape nodded curtly and turned to leave. He paused at the doorway as Dumbledore spoke again.

"Oh, and, Severus? Go get something to eat," he added.

Snape muttered a parting curse and stalked out of the room. Dumbledore moved back to his desk, his mind lost deep in thought.

* * *

Harry stared into the flickering flames, the light reflecting in his green eyes. Most of his face was bathed in shadow, which concealed the expression on his face. It made it more difficult to know what he was thinking, what was going on behind his usually expressive face. His odd silences were worrying Hermione, and, she wasn't quite sure what to say. The three friends had been up in the common room for hours, arguing over what the Slytherins were plotting, and agreeing on nothing. It was beginning to wear on even Hermione's nerves, and, she was swiftly becoming more irritable. It didn't help that Harry had chosen to withdraw into himself, and completely forget about his friends seated beside him.

She felt a warm hand on her shoulder, and looked over at Ron. He smiled sweetly and squeezed her arm. It wasn't much, but, it comforted her. She smiled back.

"I wonder if one of the teachers would tell us something," Ron said.

"I doubt it."

"I'm not even sure that it's any of our business," Harry said quietly.

Hermione stared at him, shocked. She didn't necessarily disagree,but, for Harry to be so reasonable was unusual to say the least.

"Are you joking?! I mean, they could be plotting some evil crime against us!"Ron protested.

"I don't know, Ron. It seems rather unlikely," Hermione said.

Ron glared at them furiously, and, his ears began to turn a bright red.

"I can't believe this. After what they did last year..."

"Well, they haven't tried anything this year," Hermione admonished firmly.

"Not yet!"

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his messy black hair. Leaning back against the armchair, he wearily rubbed his eyes.

"We'll just have to watch them. If they're up to something, we'll know soon enough. Malfoy's not that good at keeping secrets," he said.

"Yeah, he likes to gloat and brag too much," Hermione agreed.

Ron sulked for a few seconds, but nodded grudgingly. His face began to return to its normal coloring, losing the red flush of anger.

"Right now, we're just jumping at shadows," Hermione murmured and patted his hand.

* * *

The four professors waited impatiently in the small, cramped room. They had been summoned in the early hours of the morning to the headmaster's office, and, sleep still ringed the eyes of Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick. In sharp contrast, Snape and McGonagall were wide awake and alert, though neither had received more than a few hours of rest.

Several minutes after they had all arrived, Professor Dumbledore stepped into the room with a smile. Even at this early hour, he was cheerful. Snape thought it must be the sugar he constantly consumed. Whatever caused it, his unsightly happiness was terribly annoying to the irritable professors.

"So good to see all of you. I trust you all had a good night's rest?"

A few half-hearted mumbles were the only answers he got. Still smiling brightly, he took a seat.

"What's this all about?" Snape snapped with his usual ill-temper.

Dumbledore glanced around, shrugged, and began to speak.

"The Slytherins and the Gryffindors, mostly, but, the rest of you will be involved as well."

There were a few curious faces at this, but, no one decided to speak.

"As you have all noticed, there is a certain degree of animosity between the houses," he paused.

"Slytherins and Gryffindors, we know," Snape said impatiently.

"Yep. They hate each other," Sprout added.

McGonagall cleared her throat to silence them. Snape shot her a glare, but subsided.

"Indeed. Anyways, I've been entertaining an idea that might force the different Houses to at least respect each other."

"Fat chance," Flitwick murmured.

"This rivalry's been going on for years. What could possibly make them capable of even standing each other?" Sprout asked.

Dumbledore smiled, the sort of smile that always made Snape cringe. It was the one he used when he had one of his brilliant, idiotic plans.

"Living together in the same dormitory."

The room immediately erupted into pandemonium as everyone began to speak at once.