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“The Gryffindorks appear the same way though,” Draco smirked. “But I think you have another category to add: those that think it’s the best idea ever and the cutest thing in the universe.” Harry groaned as Draco changed his voice to mimic the girls they’d just left as best he could.

If dinner was any indication of the temperament of Hogwarts students, Harry was exceedingly glad that he’d skipped lunch. He barely had a chance to eat.

“What were you thinking Harry?”

“It’s Malfoy Harry!”

“Someone quick! Check for a Dark spell! He can’t be acting of his own mind.”

“But it’s so adorable!”

“Are you crazy! It’s horrible! You’re not actually going through with it, right Harry?”

“Harry? You’re not really getting married, are you?”

And it was about at this moment that they saw his ring. Again, the reactions were varied, but forceful. Harry’s arm was dragged towards everyone that could reach so that they could get a better look at it and discern that it was, in fact, an engagement ring.

Over on the Slytherin side Harry could see that Draco was faring only slightly better. The Slytherin students seemed to be quieter with their inquisitive statements, but more vicious.

There was a sudden clatter and smash of food and cutlery falling to the floor, as well as the soft whimpering of someone who’d been hit before Snape’s voice roared out:

“Mr. Zabini, you will not act in such a manner towards your fellow students!”

Harry peered over Ron’s head to see Blaise standing over a seventh year Slytherin, his fist still curled from the punch that broke the student’s jaw. Draco, sitting next to where Blaise was standing, looked nonplussed about the entire situation, but his eyes showed a slight irritation towards the student sprawled on the floor.

“He’s not going to get in trouble for that,” Ron muttered. “You can tell Snape’s just making a show of it. He’s not really angry at all.”

Harry collapsed, books and all, onto the bed, completely exhausted.

“Going to leave me any room, Harry?”

Harry’s reply was something between a “mufgh” and a “gfruf” before he lifted his head partway off the mattress. “Not at all. Wake me for exams.”

“I doubt even you could sleep for almost three months.”

A muffled, “I can try,” was his answer.