What Fools These Mortals Be

He looked puzzled for a moment. "Hmm? Oh, yeah, no, they're mostly gone. Just catching up on sleep from last year, I think."

"Hmm," she said, studying him closely. "And you've not been out wandering the castle instead of sleeping?"

"Oh, look at the time," Harry said quickly, grabbing his bag and a piece of toast. "We'll be late to potions if we don't hurry."

"Harry!"

He ignored her as he hurried out of the hall.

---

The mysterious banner was the hottest new gossip at Hogwarts. All the students and teachers were speculating about what it could mean — especially when the tally marks started appearing, marching irregularly across the blank parchment. Even the ghosts and portraits were whispering about it. Not one of the teachers had been able to remove it, and Filch stalked around the Castle with a scowl even deeper than usual, accusing everyone from Peeves to first-years of putting it up to spite him.

---

"What do you suppose it means, Draco?" Blaise asked one evening, as the eighth-year Slytherins lounged around the fire.

"Dunno," Draco said absently, frowning at his Arithmancy text.

They sat in silence for a few moments.

"You know," Blaise said, as he gazed into the fire, chin propped on his steepled fingers, "it could be someone's initials."

"Mmm," Draco said.

Blaise tried again. "I wonder if we know anyone with the initials 'D. M.,'" he said loudly.

A small knot of fourth-year girls tittered.

Draco rolled his eyes as he looked over the top of the book. "Oh, har, har. Very funny, Blaise."

Blaise inspected his fingernails. "I'm serious. Don't you think it's odd that it showed up the same night you royally pissed off Pansy?"

Draco shrugged. "Pansy couldn't manage magic that strong. McGonagall can't even remove it."

"Even so."

"Blaise," Draco sighed, "I really don't care. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to finish this chapter before tomorrow. Some of us need our beauty sleep."

"You are looking rather peaked. Have you not been sleeping well?" He lowered his voice. "Is it those dreams again?"

Draco dropped his book into his lap, exasperated, and Blaise's eyes widened. "Well, well. Who's the lucky girl?"

"What?" Draco's puzzled frown froze, then turned horrified as he touched his throat. He must have loosened his tie without realizing it, which meant...

Blaise smirked. "I know very well what kind of bruise that is. So I ask again - who is she?"

"None of your business," Draco said, flushing. "I'm going to bed."

"Well at least we know what the marks mean!" Blaise called after him.

Draco paled and ducked quickly into his room.

Blaise threw his head back and laughed. "Pansy," he said, "you're a genius."

She winked at him from her spot on the couch, where she'd been pretending to sleep. "I know. Still. I wish I could figure out who it is leaving our prim and proper Draco all debauched."

---

The next morning, the number of tally marks on the banner had swelled considerably. At the Gryffindor table, a stunned silence fell as the rumor winged from the Slytherins.

Ron sat frozen, a spoonful of porridge halfway to his lips.

"Bloody hell!" he said. "Malfoy. But who would kiss that slimy git?"

"Whoever it is, they're keen," Seamus leered. "Just look at those tallies!"

Dean whistled. "Merlin."

Harry continued eating his toast, not looking up from the scrap of parchment he was scribbling on.

"Uh, Mate?" Ron said slowly, as Hermione nudged him.

"Hmm?"

"Aren't you gonna, y'know, rail about it for a while?"

Harry looked up, puzzled. "No?"

"But... don't you wanna know who it is?"

"Not really, no."

Ron stared.

"Harry," Hermione said carefully, sounding concerned. "You did know we were talking about Malfoy?"

"Yes? What does that have to do with anything?"

Ron groaned. "Bloody hell, mate. You choose now to get over your weird obsession with Malfoy?"

Harry hid a smirk behind his pumpkin juice. "Guess so," he said, shrugging.

He snuck a quick glance at the banner, and then at Malfoy, once Ron turned away.

Malfoy caught him looking and pulled a wry face. The smirk didn't leave Harry's face for hours.

---

Draco grinned at him. "This is the most fun I've had in years. Pansy is about to explode, and even Blaise hasn't managed to remain uninterested." He paused. "We're not going to be able to keep this secret much longer though. Not with this much scrutiny. I think some are starting to suspect."

Harry grinned. "Yeah, but when we finally do tell them, they'll all be so relieved to have the mystery solved, they'll forget to be upset about it. Pansy's done us a favor, really."

"When shall we tell them, then?" Draco asked nervously. "If you really think we should, I mean. Your friends—"

"Draco," Harry said fondly, "my friends will understand. Anyway, I'm pretty sure Hermione's guessed already. So... how about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Mm. At breakfast. We'll go in together."

"Together?"

"That's what I said." Harry pulled him in for a quick kiss. "Relax, Draco. You can sit with me. No, don't panic. I'll protect you from the scary Gryffindorks."

Draco snorted. "Fine. But we eat dinner with Slytherin."

"OK."

"What, no protest?"

"I'm sure you'll protect me. Just make sure you're between me and Pansy. She has claws."

"True that." He yawned. "I should really be getting back."

"Stay," Harry said quickly, catching his arm.

"Why, Potter," Draco raised an eyebrow. Then he sighed. "I should go, though. They'll notice if I'm not there in the morning."

Harry shrugged. "Let them. They'll know at breakfast anyway."

"Yeah but... Oh, fine."

"Knew you'd see it my way. Oh, and wear my tie."

"Why?"

"Because I wanna see you in it. Anyway, you have said that Slytherin green matches my eyes."

~The End~