The Morning After
Blaise awoke slowly. He always slept better after pranking, maiming, or generally destroying one's dreams. His slow stretch and yawn of satisfaction was interrupted by a sound of sniffling, however, coming from two beds down.
"Draco? Are you getting a cold?"
"N-no." More sniffs, a few strange noises. Blaise couldn't tell if he was laughing or crying.
"What's wrong then? You better not be wiping your nose on the sheets again."
There was a guilty, pregnant pause. "Am not."
Blaise sighed. All he had wanted to do was bask in the glory that would be Finnegan's face at breakfast. He wished he could have looked at Finnegan, winked, anything- he would have even been happy with a kick. As he pulled on his trousers, the only thing besides Draco's sniffling that was holding him back from his good mood was the fact that he had indeed gotten his hopes up about a 'secret admirer.' In the few hours between getting the note and going to the kitchens, the secret admirer had turned into a sexy rule breaker that wanted to have sex with Blaise on the table that breakfast would be prepared on. Not that kitchen sex was a particular kink of Blaise's, but still, he thought he might get some action. He suppressed the feeling of disappointment, though, and vowed to especially never admit he was even more excited when he saw Granger- and even more disappointed when she didn't try to take him on the table.
He sighed again. Full of sighs, he buttoned his shirt up and walked to Draco's bed to pull back the curtain. Draco was sitting up, wearing only his pants, his eyes wet from almost-tears.
"God, Draco! I haven't seen you cry since first year when you realized you forgot to pack your blankie and your dad burned it!" Draco looked even more miserable at the mention of this, so Blaise sat beside him and pat his back, "What's wrong?"
"I had a bad dream," Draco nearly whispered. Blaise stifled a laugh.
"Oh?"
"About... about. About a Hufflepuff. A HUFFLEPUFF!" Blaise had nearly forgotten about Draco's knack for repeating things when he was especially upset.
"You know, I could just say, 'ew, I don't want to hear about that.' But no, Draco, because I'm a good friend, I'm going to get you your trousers-" he did so, "and tell you something you probably won't want to hear."
Draco looked up at him like a resentful child and struggled with his trousers.
"We all have dreams about Hufflepuffs now and then. You, however, have to decide if it was because of something you ate last night, or something you might be repressing. Now tell me- was it really a bad dream?"
"I guess not until I realized who it was..." Draco mumbled.
"Let's go to breakfast, then, shall we?" Draco snuffled. They left, fastening their robes as they walked. "So, was it a boy or a girl?" Blaise said, and got hit in the arm before he had time to defend himself. "I was just wondering!" he yelled, but was drowned out by Pansy running from the girls' bathrooms in her dressing robe, crying. She ran right past them and out the door, barefoot. Blaise thought he heard something that sounded like 'ten pounds' as she wailed, but couldn't be sure.
Blaise thought he deserved a medal for dealing with these people.
--
"Something's going on," Neville said conspiratorially as he sat down besides Hannah that morning.
"Ooh," she grinned, instantly interested. "What happened?"
"I don't know yet. Hermione ran into the boy's dorm at around one this morning to tell Harry and Ron something and then ran back out."
"You know something's up when Hermione's breaking rules," Hannah grinned and bit into a biscuit. Neville grinned back, but at that moment a trickle of fear crept down his spine. He looked around wildly to see Draco Malfoy glaring at him. Malfoy? Malfoy! What have I done to him lately? Neville thought, staring back, wide-eyed at the Slytherin table. "Something wrong, Neville?"
"Malfoy's glaring at me," he whispered. Justin turned to check, even as Neville said "Nonono! don't look!" just as quietly.
"He is, isn't he? He's not even eating. Just staring at Neville," Justin said, sounding surprised, "S'pose he's gay?"
"No, he's just an idiot," Hannah said decisively. Neville turned and smiled gratefully, and admired her glasses. They framed her eyes very nicely.
--
After fleeing the common room, Pansy took the lesser-known route to the hospital wing. She didn't need to be seen by any particular blond Gryffindors in her time of duress. Or in her dressing robe. Although, Pansy thought through her tears, her dressing robe was probably nicer than Lavender's. Classier.
She soon reached the hospital wing, faster than if she had been taking her normal routes with her normal dignity. She threw open the doors. "Madam Pomfrey!" she wailed. "I'm as bloat-"
Ron Weasley was staring at her, looking rather green himself. She quieted. "Excuse me, she said, nodding to him and wiping her eyes, trying to look dignified. She didn't think anyone else would be in there, especially not Weasley.
"What is it dear? You ran here crying because you're bloated?" Madam Pomfrey asked, emerging from her office. Pansy cringed at Weasley trying to stifle his smile. She stared at the nurse until she led Pansy into a more private room with a bed to sit on. "I've gained ten pounds since I've been here!" she said all at once, lip trembling again.
She heard a chuckle from outside, and sighed. Ron would probably tell Lavender this, but she didn't care.
"Well, what have you been eating, dear?"
"I heard about this new diet... well, a couple of them. One of them required one to eat as many brown foods-"
"Pansy, dear, what have I told you about new diets? You're supposed to see me first." The nurse then went about jotting down a list of the things that Pansy could and couldn't eat. "There. If you stick to this your weight gain should go away. Stay here and eat, and you can go get your uniform on while everyone's at breakfast," Madam Pomfrey smiled down at Pansy, who was laying prone in the bed now. She handed the list over and patted Pansy's head.
"No pudding?" she said weakly.
Ron, a bed over, Pansy realized, was sitting up and looking at her. "You really oughtn't give up pudding so you can look like, I don't know, Lavender Brown. You um. Look fine the way you are?" He blushed a bright red, and then promptly looked like he was going to be sick again. Pansy didn't know whether to be offended or pat him on the head.