Sleepovers, Slytherins, and Seafood

"What are you putting in there?" Blaise cried, disgusted.

Draco looked up innocently as he poured the orange juice into his coffee.

"Orange juice."

"I can see that, but why?!"

"I don't like orange juice."

"That makes no sense, whatsoever."

"Yes, it does. The coffee masks the orange juice's flavor."

"That's gross."

Draco studiously ignored him and pressed the coffee mug to his face, inhaling deeply.

"Good coffee, precious coffee," Draco began murmuring.

Pansy walked up to the table, yawning wearily. She glanced at Draco as he kissed the mug.

"What's he doing?" she asked Blaise, staring at Draco and his strange antics.

"Making love to his coffee."

"Again?"

Blaise nodded morosely and poked at his toast as Pansy sat down beside him. The Great Hall was nearly full of disgruntled students, a strange occurrence for such an early hour. The entire school had been summoned to hear some sort of announcement, but, no one was that curious. Most were too tired to even keep their heads up, and were taking a much-needed nap on the table.

Draco grimaced as he took a sip of his coffee, his nose wrinkling at the taste. He forced himself to swallow, then quickly grabbed Blaise's cup. He indelicately gulped down the steaming liquid as he tried to rid his mouth of the sickly aftertaste.

"Hey, give that back!" Blaise cried and snatched the cup from the pale boy's shaking hands.

"Oh, no," Pansy muttered.

Draco let out a hoarse shriek and dived for the mug. He grabbed the handle and tried to tug it from Blaise. When the other boy held tight, he sank his nails in deep. Blaise released the cup with a muttered curse and rubbed his injured hand. Pansy just slowly shook her head, not at all surprised by the outcome.

"You should know better than to touch his coffee," she admonished.

"It's not his!" Blaise protested.

"It is now," Draco smugly retorted.

Blaise sighed, but let the subject drop. He retrieved the half-empty glass of orange juice and took a sip. It wasn't coffee, but, he knew it would have to do. Beside him, Draco began to pour all sorts of cream and sugar into his new cup of coffee. After a liberal dose of milk, he took a sip, smiling beatifically the whole time.

"Coffee is beautiful," he sighed.

Pansy glanced at the hot liquid, her lip curling slightly.

"It's brown."

"So?"

"Draco, you, yourself, said that, and, I quote, 'brown is a disgusting, terrible, nasty color that should never see the light of day, but remain hidden in the dark at the bottom of a hole in a cave in the frozen depths of Antarctica.'"

Draco blinked and looked down at the coffee. However, his face quickly brightened as his memory kicked in.

"Oh. Well, that's only because I was talking about Potter's hair, which is dreadful."

"Because it's brown," she pointed out.

Draco thought for a moment, but shook his head.

"No, because it's on Potter's head."

"So if he wore one of your hats, would you call the hat ugly?"

"Pansy, I'm shocked. You know very well I don't like hats. They mess up my lovely hair," Draco exclaimed in horror.

"You wear 'em when it's snowing," Crabbe said slowly.

"Well, that's different. Then, I wear them to protect my delicate ears."

"Your ears are delicate?" Blaise exclaimed with a laugh.

Draco pouted and tenderly covered his ears.

"Why, yes. They are quite terribly fragile."

"You mean weak?" Pansy questioned.

"Not my ears! They are very strong, manly ears!" he cried in indignation.

"But, fragile? Strong, fragile, manly ears?"

"Yes, you have a problem with that?" Draco asked, but turned back to his coffee before she could answer.

"It seems a bit contradictory," she said.

Draco glared up at her after taking a sip of coffee.

"Why are you still talking?"

"Ever heard of freedom of speech?" Pansy snarled.

"No!"

"Ah, yes, I forgot. It goes against your religion, which involves worshipping your hair, if I remember correctly," she said derisively.

Draco raised his eyebrows in a contrived expression of horror and astonishment.

"What? Are you ridiculing my beliefs?" he exclaimed.

"No, never!" she replied innocently.

Draco looked at her suspiciously and poked her on the shoulder.

"Hmm. I don't believe you."

"That's 'cause you're paranoid, Draco," Blaise said.

"You're making fun of my mental instability?! What next, my hair?"

"Ah, no, we have something far eviler planned," Pansy replied with a cruel smile.

She looked meaningfully at his nearly empty coffee cup.

"You shall not threaten the coffee!" Draco cried.

She just continued smiling. Blaise looked at them both and shook his head.

"You know, we get off-topic very easily," he pointed out.

"Hmm. You may have a point there," Draco admitted.

He drained the last dregs of his coffee and glanced back up.

"You know, Potter's hair isn't even brown," he informed them.

"It isn't?!" Pansy asked, surprised.

"Nope. It's black."

"Hmm. I can't believe I never noticed," she mused.

"Well, looking at him does permanently scar your eyes," he reminded her.

Quiet began to spread across the crowded hall, and, the Slytherins glanced up to see Dumbledore preparing to speak.

"Finally."

The headmaster cleared his throat loudly and paused as everyone fell silent. Smiling benevolently, he began to speak.

"As I am sure many of you know, Hogwarts has long had a history of fighting between the Houses."

"That's a bit of an understatement," Blaise muttered.

"Yeah, it's more like all out war," Draco agreed.

They both fell silent as Dumbledore began to speak again.

"In the past, we have done nothing to end these senseless disputes, but, now, the time for overlooking such things is gone."

The color began to drain out of Draco's face, though there wasn't much there to begin with.

"Oh, no," he whispered.

"What the hell is he going to do?"

"To help encourage camaraderie between the students of different Houses, several years of each House shall act as exchange students," Dumbledore said, glancing meaningfully at the Slytherin table.

"Exchange?" Crabbe said.

"What does it mean, Draco?" Millicent Bulstrode asked apprehensively.

"I think...he's going to make us live with another House," he whispered in horror.

All around the hall, whispers could be heard as people tried to figure out what the old man meant. Several people were beginning to look ill as the words sunk in.

"The sixth year Slytherins will reside in Gryffindor Tower, and the sixth year Hufflepuffs will go to Ravenclaw. The fourth year Gryffindors will go to Hufflepuff, and the fourth year Ravenclaws will go to Slytherin."

"No, no, no..." Draco began murmuring.

"It's too wrong," Pansy said, her face full of shock.

"That man is evil! Evil, I tell you!" Draco cried.

All the students had begun speaking, creating an enormous clamor. Dumbledore raised a hand, and motioned them to silence. The noise didn't cease completely, but moved back down to a controllable level.

"These changes will become effective immediately. Teachers will be present to assist you in moving into your new quarters, and answer any questions you may have," Dumbledore finished and returned to his seat, completely oblivious to the rising noise.

"We'll be infected! Infected!" Draco was wailing.

"He's really quite distraught, isn't he?" Millicent asked Pansy.

"Can you blame him? He's going to have to sleep in the same room as Potter."

"Oh. That sucks."

"We have to live with Granger."

"That sucks, too."

"I think it's safe to say that this all sucks," Blaise said.

"Maybe, we should have a mass suicide," Draco suggested.

This was met by a few blank stares, but , also, several approving nods.

"It's a possibility," Pansy admitted.

Blaise lightly shoved her, and shook his head in mock disapproval. She grinned sheepishly, and shrugged.

"Ok, I'm desperate," she admitted.

"There's got to be a way out of this."

"How about a signed doctor's excuse saying I'm allergic to Gryffindors?" Draco said.

"I don't think they'll buy it."

"But, they make me sick!"

Pansy patted him reassuringly, but, he continued to sulk.

* * *

"What?" Harry said, dumbstruck.

"He's kidding, right?" Ron asked, swallowing nervously.

"I don't know. He looks pretty serious."

"That's insane!" Seamus raved.

"That would be the word for it," Harry agreed.

"I mean, really, they'll kill us in our sleep."

Hermione shook her head, practically radiating disapproval.

"Now, Ron, they wouldn't kill you."

The worried redhead began to turn a somewhat vivid shade of green, that was rather similar to the color of his face after the slug incident.

"Yeah, you're right. They'll kidnap us and sell us to Voldemort," he gasped.

"They might even wrap us up in ribbon," Harry added.

"Put a little card on..."

"Have us delivered right to him."

"You guys are being stupid," she snapped.

She looked around the table for support, but, most of the other students were favoring Ron's side of the argument.

"I don't think so, Hermione. I mean, look at them, they're evil!" Ron protested.

They all looked over to the Slytherin table for a second. Harry quickly spotted Malfoy, and, his mouth dropped open in surprise.

"Is Malfoy crying?" he asked.

The pale boy had his face hidden in his hands and was being comforted by Pansy Parkinson. After a minute, he looked up at the Gryffindors, his face a perfect mask of hatred and fury.

"Well, at least, we know they don't like it any better than us," Hermione said, flinching slightly at the Slytherin's angry glare.

Ron shook his head wildly, his eyes growing frantic.

"That's not a good thing. It means they'll kill us faster so they can have our dormitory to themselves," he cried.

Hermione merely rolled her eyes and went back to eating her breakfast. The boys stared at her, surprised by her calm demeanor.

"Doesn't it bother you?" Harry asked.

She looked up after taking a bite of her toast. After a few thoughtful moments, she answered.

"Yeah, but...We can't do anything about it, Harry. Even if we could, I...I'm not sure this is a bad thing. Don't you remember what the Sorting Hat said? About Hogwarts needing to unite?"

Harry nodded slowly, thinking back on the words. When he looked at her again, his face was more relaxed, the stress lines fading back into the background.

"You're right, 'Mione. We should at least give it a chance, no matter how much the idea appalls us."

"You've both gone mad," Ron muttered.

* * *

"How are the students taking it?" Professor McGonagall asked.

Her face was weary and haggard even though the day had just begun. Beside her, Severus Snape looked equally tired, though he was more angry than anything else. His current mood showed quite plainly on his face, a warning sign for all who dared approach him.

"I stopped their attempted suicide. Other than that, they're doing quite well," he said sarcastically.

"What?!"

"Mr. Malfoy's idea," he added wryly.

McGonagall stared at him and wondered if he was joking. He was obviously quite irritable, so she decided to just drop the subject.

"Are you watching what they pack?" she asked hesitantly.

"You mean keeping them from taking weapons to kill your precious Gryffindors? Of course," he snarled.

"I didn't mean it like that," she protested.

"Yes, you did. You're no better than the rest of them."

"Severus..." she said in a calming voice.

"Stop it," he snapped.

She glared at him, her lips tightening with irritation.

"You know, it's this sort of attitude that makes people hate the Slytherins."

"And it's the Gryffindors' nosiness that makes us want you all dead," he retorted nastily.

"Severus, do not speak to Minerva that way. She has done nothing wrong," Dumbledore said gently as he entered the room.

They both glanced up guiltily, ashamed to be caught squabbling like petty children. Minerva knew that they would have to set a better example in the future if they wanted to stop the fighting between their two Houses.

"Has everything been settled with your students?" the elderly wizard asked.

They both nodded with their eyes down, looking like two children who had been reprimanded.

"Well, then, you may start moving the sixth years into Gryffindor Tower. After that is done, we will start on the fourth years."

Once more, the only response he got was two nods.

"You may go. And, Severus, Minerva, please try to set a good example. We need this to work so that Hogwarts can remain strong."

* * *

"All my beautiful stuff! Where will it go?" Draco was yelling.

Blaise looked up from packing his clothes and shrugged.

"In the Gryffindor Tower, I suppose."

"And let my hair care products be infected!? Never!"

"So, you're going to stop using all those fancy hair sprays and stuff? It's about time," Blaise said.

Draco's eyes lit up with feverish excitement. Blaise had a feeling that it was going to be another one of the smaller boy's insane moments.

"That's it!"

"That's what?"

"The Gryffindors' master plan!"

"And that would be?"

"They're going to try to ruin my beautiful hair. All of this stuff about going to live with them is just so I'll be separated from my gels, sprays, volumizers, and extra-shine lotion!" Draco shrieked.

Blaise nodded and smiled in an attempt to at least look sincere.

"Yes, Draco, that makes perfect sense," he agreed.

"And they call us evil! Horrible people, trying to spread bad hair throughout the wizarding world," Draco ranted in aggrieved tones.

"So what are you going to do about it?" Theodore asked with a hidden smile.

"What else? I'm taking all my stuff with me!"

"You sure it'll fit, Draco?" Goyle inquired.

"Hmm. Good point. Oh, well, I'll just throw out Potter's crap," he said gleefully.

Blaise watched as the Slytherin prefect began to toss every imaginable product into his suitcase, which was already stuffed to the breaking point. He blinked as he caught the label on one bottle.

"Flea repellant?" he couldn't help asking.

Draco looked up, his silver-framed face a picture of innocence.

"For the Weasel."

"I don't think flea repellant will keep him away from you, Draco," Blaise pointed out.

"No, that's just to keep his fleas away."

"He has fleas?" Crabbe questioned ponderously.

"Of course, all the Weasleys do. Hang out with all sorts of vile things, they do," Draco answered with a sneer.

"Oh."

Draco began to dig in his box of products until he found a tall, silver spray can. He held it up triumphantly and grinned.

"This is to keep Weasel and Potter away."

Blaise merely shook his head as he stared at the can of wizarding pepper spray. It was supposed to actually light its chosen victim on fire.

"Draco, I'm sure they won't want to be around you either."

"Well, I can't run the risk of them going mad at the sight of my beautiful body. Foul, loathsome creatures, trying to take advantage of me in my sleep."

"You are just too psychotic," Pansy remarked from where she stood at the doorway.

"Envious?" Draco asked with a charming smile.

"Ach, hush, you. Now, get your little arse downstairs. Snape says it's time to go," she said.

Blaise began humming the funeral march as they left the dormitory. Draco glared back at him once, but, couldn't help laughing. He stopped in the hallway, blocking the other boys.

"Gentlemen, we may go to our deaths, but, it shall not be in vain. We shall make every day there living hell for Potter and his friends. Are we agreed?"

"Agreed," they all chorused.

"Onward, soldiers," Draco cried.

Snape just shook his head as they entered the common room. The girls were already assembled and had all their suitcases lying beside them on the floor. Blaise found it amusing that none of them had more luggage than Draco.

"Students, it's time to go. I know many of you are...less than happy about this turn of events, but, I'm counting on you to be on your best behavior. No matter what the Gryffindors do, act appropriately. Prove that you are better than them, if you must," he said gravely.

"Don't worry, Professor, we'll behave just as well as we do for you," Draco answered.

Snape's eyebrows rose at these words.

"All right, better," Draco amended with a smirk.

Snape nodded and motioned to the door. The students began to slowly file out, a few turning back to have one last look at their home.
"Sir, will we be allowed to come back here during the day?"

Snape considered it for a moment before he answered.

"You're supposed to live in Gryffindor Tower, but, Dumbledore did not say you couldn't visit your own House. So, yes, you may."

"Thank you, sir. I'll see you in Potions," Draco said with a sad smile and hurried out the door.

As soon as he stepped into the hallway, Crabbe and Goyle wordlessly took his bags, and, the Slytherins began their long walk to their new residence.

* * *

The Gryffindors were sitting disconsolately in the common room, their young faces full of gloom. Even Hermione was looking depressed as she contemplated the changes facing them. Harry and Ron were attempting to play a game of Exploding Snap, but, neither one of their minds was truly on it.

"They'll be here soon," Harry said needlessly.

"Yep."

They lapsed into silence again, staring at their feet. After a few moments, they heard the portrait begin to swing open as the password was spoken. They all stood and walked toward the door, waiting for the Slytherins to come in.

They climbed through the entry quickly, led by Malfoy. His silver-blonde hair stood out in the gloom, immediately catching Harry's eyes. When all the Slytherins were inside, the two groups of students merely stared at each other.

"Uh...come on in," Hermione said hesitantly.

"We're already in. We don't need an invitation from the likes of you," Pansy growled.

"Hey, don't speak to her like that!" Ron yelled.

"Close your mouth, Weasel. We'll fight later. Right now, we have luggage to unpack, so if you'd be so kind..."Draco hissed.

Hermione forced a smile to her face and turned to Harry.

"We'll show you to the dormitories," she said.

Harry nodded and beckoned to the boys as the girls followed Hermione out of the room.