It's fairly quiet, as it usually is. Harry and Draco are lounging around in Harry's room in a companionable silence, like they usually are. Nike is pouncing on Draco's feet, sometimes leaving livid red lines that aren't quite scratches in the wake of her kitten-claws. Draco doesn't appear to notice. In fact, he's jiggling his feet almost
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All right, Malfoy...we'll get there and if you can convince McGonagall to let us leave early without argument or threat of hexing...well, I'll think of something to reward you with. Seeing as how I'm in need of a backbone. Better yet...convince Snape to not insist on you staying either.
P.S. That was not a nibble. Merlin, are you sure that thing is just a cat?
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Point taken.
P.S. Of course she is. Are you bleeding? Do you need me to kiss it better?
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Thought so. Seems I'm not the only one in need of a backbone.
P.S. You know, I think you're right. I'm over here being attacked by a wild animal and Snitch hasn't moved a bloody muscle. Some guard dog.
And no, I'm not bleeding. But you can kiss it anyhow.
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I definitely did not mean for that to sound like such a blatant proposition.
Oh go fuck yourself, Potter.
P.S. I told you.
Must I kiss it? I don't know that I'm feeling up to any kissing tonight.
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You're going to teach me to dance? Before tomorrow? You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, do you? But, hey, they're your toes...
Why would I go and do something like that? It's not as much fun by myself.
P.S. Rub it in, why don't you?
No? Merlin, am I supposed to ask you what's wrong or something? If we're...I should them right? Everything all right, Draco?
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I honestly have nothing to say to that.
P.S. Of course.
Yes, fine. Why?
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I rendered Draco Malfoy speechless? Shouldn't this be marked as a national holiday or something?
P.S. Should have known.
I don't know. I guess...well, you've never not been feeling up to it. Or maybe you just haven't said before. I don't know. Forget I asked.
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Shut up and stand up so I can teach you something.
P.S. Probably.
I was joking, Potter. I'm fine. Now seriously, get up.
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I'm getting up...be patient. I have a wounded foot from that bloody cat of yours.
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With a quick glance upward, Draco puts his quill back to the page of the journal . . .
Baby.
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