Catch 22 (Harry/Draco)

Pirates and Dags and Really Bad Eggs

Pirate songs in the Gryffindor common room, Blaise is out for blood, Harry is very terrible at the Sneaking Thing, and what can Draco say? His public adores him.

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5:30pm (that afternoon)

'I've got a lov-a-ley bunch 'a coconuts, dee da lee dee da lee—'

'What is he doing in here?' Ron asks loudly.

'—there they are 'a standin' in a row, bump, baa, dum—'

'Oh,' says Hermione, 'just, you know, visiting.'

'—big ones, small ones, some as big as your head—'

'Visiting?' Ron demands. 'Visiting? What the bloody hell for?'

'—give 'em a twist, a flick of the wrist, s'what the showman said—'

'Blaise,' Hermione says firmly, and Blaise stops singing, though he's still grinning rather alarmingly. 'Ron, I've already told you about this. Will you relax and at least pretend to be an adult about it?'

'Relax?' Ron demands and points an accusatory finger at Blaise. 'You never said anything about bringing him in here!'

'Here' is actually the Gryffindor common room, in which Hermione is sitting on the sofa and Blaise has commandeered the best armchair for himself and is still humming his tune. It is Saturday afternoon and the room is packed with people, and Ron is furious; Slytherins in their common room! It's not only wrong in every sense of the word, it's right up there with treason and probably sacrilege, and if Hermione isn't careful, she's going to be smote by the Almighty Gryffindor Gods.

'Weasley, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't like my singing,' Blaise says, looking hurt.

He speaks with a mild, romantic accent, rolling some of his syllables, and is splayed sideways in the armchair, as if it is a throne and he is a pirate who has just sacked the king, with his arms balanced on his knees and long legs propped against the side. His dark hair is purposely mussed and his skin is something like three shades lighter than Dean's, the finely bronzed tone of one who has spent far too much time in the sun.

He's wearing a wolfish smirk and leers, his expression that of someone who is very handsome and knows it; Lavender is giving him longing looks from across the room, and Parvati, rather than reprimanding him, only squeals and runs off, giggling, when he idly lifts her skirt with the tip of his wand as she walks past.

'Hermione,' Ron says furiously, 'I know this whole correspondent thing has sort of gone to your head, but I really don't care if he's your long lost brother, he has no right to be in our common room!'

'Long lost brother?' Blaise looks at Hermione with a slightly alarmed expression. 'You might have told me about that before last night, signorina. Incest is a sin, you know.'

Ron, who, by this point, is approximately the colour of an eggplant, twitches rather violently when laughter is Hermione's only response.

'Stop being horrible,' she tells Blaise, who is looking quite pleased with the effect he is having on Ron. 'Oh, Ron, he's joking, honestly. Now sit down before you fall down.'

'By all means, fall down if you like, I'll laugh you scorn,' Blaise adds cheerily. Ron looks as if he might strangle Blaise, so Hermione smartly takes him by the belt and pulls him down on the couch beside her. 'Anyway,' Blaise continues, 'as much fun as it is to take the mickey out of you, I'm actually waiting for Potter.'