Harry and Hermione, soon joined by Ron, headed from the room. Harry tried to remove the cover, only to find that it was stuck on with a sticking charm. As they settled in potions, he leaned casually on his book. "Give me your quill, Hermione."

"Where's yours?"

"Just give it to me!"

Hermione dug through her bag and gave a little moan. "Darn, I'm out of pink highlighters!"

"What do you need... Nevermind. I don't care. Ron, give me your quill." He began to attempt to deface his potions book.

Of course, his random jabbings at his text book did not go unnoticed by everyone's favorite evil Slytherin.

"Hey, look, everyone! Potty has a picture of himself on his book. And he's trying to decapitate himself. What's wrong, Potty? Having a bad hair day?"

Harry sighed. "I was really hoping it wouldn't come to this." And he cast a curse. It hit Draco, as well as a few random Slytherins who are needed to round out the humorous, curse-induced scene.

Draco picked up a ladle from Neville's pot and transfigured it into a microphone. "One, two, three, four..."

" That old black magic has me in its spell, that old black magic that you weave so well.
Those icy fingers up and down my spine
That same old witchcraft when your eyes meet mine.
The same old tingle that I feel inside, and then that elevator starts its ride
And down and down I go, round and round I go, like a leaf that's caught in the tide.
I should stay away, but what can I do?
I hear your name and I'm aflame
Aflame with such a burning desire that only your kiss can put out the fire.
For you're the lover I have waited for, the mate that fate had me created for.
And every time your lips meet mine, darling, down and down I go, round and round I go
In a spin, loving the spin I'm in, under that old black magic called love."

Draco sang, and his fellow Slytherins swooped and bopped and "oooed" along with him.

"Frank Sinatra?" Hermione asked, her eyebrow raised.

"Classic choice..." Harry said. "Watch the dramatic finale!"

At the end, Draco and the three Slytherins all attempted the splits. The pain from non-flexibility snapped the four out of their spell and they all toppled over.

"50 points from... Slytherin," Snape snapped. OH! Say that 3 times fast! Sorry... "for inappropriately executed splits." And Snape did a perfect splits on the floor, to the Gryffindors' shock and approval.