Worse than the Twins

(Harry Potter - Golden Trio Era)

(Harry Potter – Golden Trio Era)

113. My name is not “The Dark Lord Happy-Pants” and I am not allowed to sign my papers as such.

“I’m really becoming worried, Hermione.”

Hermione closed her eyes briefly before opening them to glare at Ron, who was looking at her seriously.

“Honestly, Ronald, I’m sure everything is fine with Harry. You only gave him a small dose anyway. It will have faded by now. And besides, the worst thing he could have been doing was shaking Malfoy’s hand. No harm done in that, unless he did it in a secluded dungeon room where no one else but Crabbe and Goyle was there. And I doubt that happened,” she told him in one breath and looked back down at her book. She only glanced back up when she noticed that Ron hadn’t replied to her, and she was startled to see a guilty expression  on his face.

She narrowed her eyes.

“What did you do?”

Ron looked down at the ground, avoiding Hermione’s stern gaze. “I may have ... gave him a ... few ... more drops of the Happy Serum than I should have,” he confessed. Hermione sighed.

“How much more?”

“Well, we were only meant to give him four drops right? Well, I might have given him ... twelve.” Hermione let out a strangled cry and rushed out the Gryffindor portrait hole in a quick flutter. Ron sprinted after her.

“I’m sorry! I wasn’t listening! I’m sorry!”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the school, Harry was skipping through the corridors merrily, humming a Christmas tune at the top of his voice. He was feeling wonderful, completely free and bubbly, like no one could stop him. Already, he had hugged several Hufflepuffs, shaken hands (or rather tentacles) with the Giant Squid and confessed his love to Professor McGonagall (who had been too shocked by the wet kiss that had landed on her cheek to chase after him and demand an explanation). As he continued down the corridor, laughing happily, he was suddenly grabbed by the shoulders by a greasy haired Professor. Harry grinned up at him.

“’Ello Professor! Isn’t it a lovely day?”

Snape raised an eyebrow at the shining boy, but merely sneered at him.

“Potter. Since you have enough time to dilly-dally around the school grounds singing, I am assuming you have completed the assignment I set you?” he demanded, holding out his hand. He was surprised when Harry let out a gleeful yelp and started digging around in his bag.

“Here you are, Professor. Enjoy!” He smiled once more at the stunned potions teacher before continuing his skipping, glad that he had finished his assignments just minutes ago. He was suddenly called back.

“Potter, you must have mistaken me. I asked for a four foot essay on the effects of Dragon Blood, not a hundred and one things you want to do to Ginny Weasley. Not only is this inappropriate, I am quite certain that your name is not The Dark Lord Happy Pants.”

Harry frowned. “But, sir, if you look inside the essay you will find the list of effects of Dragon Blood among the list of things I want to do with Ginny Weasley. I decided for a different approach at my essays!” he explained, grinning happily and missing the dark and suspicious look that Snape was sending him. He became suddenly serious.

“And, sir, my name is The Dark Lord Happy Pants. I adopted the name after You-Know-What’s-His-Face was defeated and it made me happy. It seemed fitting.” Harry shrugged once more, before turning away from Snape again and skipping off.

Ron and Hermione skidded around the corner of the hallway to see a humming Harry getting further away from them, leaving a gaping Snape behind. Hermione turned to point a finger at Ron.

“I hope you know that I’m blaming you.”