blamebrampton

And yes, this is a little late. I am pretending you live in Hawaii ...

It was dark in the Gryffindor seventh-year girl's dormitory. Dark and quiet. If you didn't count the giggling.

Harry counted the giggling.

"Would you two be quiet?" he sighed, exasperated. "Some of us need to sleep if we're going to be of any use in the morning."

"Sorry, Harry" Hermione and Draco chorused.

"It's Granger's fault, her hair is tickling my nose."

"Malfoy's fingers are tickling my ribs, that's worse."

"You are both five years old, and should start acting your age."

There was a full three seconds of silence before the slight shaking of the bed erupted into howls of laughter.

Harry gave up. "Lumos."

Two sets of eyes sparkled at him blurrily. He shoved his glasses into place and their faces focussed. "What is wrong with you two?"

"We're bored," Draco drawled. "She's left us here for months, curled up in a sexy Granger sandwich, and Granger is quite an attractive girl, so you can imagine the difficulty I am having keeping my hands off her, even knowing full well Weasley would kill me."

"He would, too," Hermione confirmed.

Harry looked hurt. "What about me?"

"That's my other beef with her, what's wrong with serving up sexy Potter sandwiches, I would like to know."

Harry grinned happily at his regular but still textually undefined shag.

Hermione shook her head. "Oh no, the minute we switch places in this bed it's all over for me. Gone will be the amusing flirtation, the regular backrubs and the almost innocent frottage, I'll have nothing for it but to catch up on my reading until she gets back, and I will do anything to avoid Wuthering Heights and Binns's Goblin Wars of the 15th Century."

"What if she never comes back?"

Draco and Hermione looked at Harry with horror. Through all the months of waiting it was a fear that none of them had dared voice, until now.

"Don't be silly," Hermione smiled nervously. "She's our author. Authors always come back."

"Shadow of his Wings," Harry muttered.

"Besides, she's left us at a bit of a cliffhanger. WIll Ron ever accept Draco? Will society accept Draco? Will the world accept you and Draco?"

"Does it really matter to you that Ron accept me?"

Hermione looked fondly at her friend. "Five months sandwiched between two hot gay boys … I have a vested interest in wanting him to stay around over the hols."

"Aah."

"Ah indeed."

"Thanks for that mental image, Hermione."

She laughed. "Harry, you may not complain, because you religiously forget that I am a light sleeper when you and Malfoy engage in a spot of hands-on character development."

There was a moment of complete silence. And a spot of blushing.

"SO," said Draco briskly. "What do you think will happen?"

"Well, clearly you're recovering from your horrific abuse …" Hermione began. "Motivated in part by the discovery of the green-eyed willing shagger, formerly known as Boy Who Lived, and in part by your determination to make your mother's sacrifice not be in vain."

"Absolutely."

"So that means we'll be going after your prick of a father at some point."

"Which reminds me, what have we done with your parents? Are they back from the Antipodes?"

"Yes, yes, back, memories reinstated, lives restarted."

"You never talk about them."

"Well … Hermione glanced at her bedfellows, "it seemed a little tactless given the company."

Harry patted her shoulder. "I agree, we go after Lucius, and uncover the mystery of whether he is acting as an independent agent of evil or as a harbinger of a new way of Death Eater violence."

Draco looked at him sharply. "Since when did you use words like harbinger?"

"Five months in bed with the two of you?" Harry snorted. "I have learned more polysyllabic terms, more esoteric wizarding lore and more of the sexual history of Hogwarts girls than any one man should know."

"Well," Draco said, "in fairness, Pansy's indiscretions provided at least a week's distraction from our plight."

"And Lavender another three days," Hermione added.

"And speculating about what Romilda Vane would have done with you was one of our more amusing evenings." Draco squidged to the far side of the bed, out of range of pinching Potter fingers.

Harry laughed. Then grew serious. "We will keep you safe from your father," he vowed.

"We will," Hermione agreed.

"I know," Draco whispered.

There was a long silence.

"Do you think she's coming now?"

"I don't know, Harry," Draco sought to reassure, "but she will come eventually."

"Do you think so?"

"She must."

Hermione nodded. "She must."

Harry sighed. "Do you know any stories we can tell while we wait?"

Hermione patted both of the boys in a motherly fashion. "I know a play … it's about a man named Godot …"

NB If a certain young lady would only update Certain Dark Things, she would receive more sensible gifts!!