Harry had gone to one of his four favorite places in the school: places, in essence, where he could disappear, one being his bed with the curtains halfway drawn. But he smiled at Ron, his grin a bit crooked as he rolled up his scroll for DADA as he caught the pillow and tucked it behind him.
"Misery my left hand," Harry snorted, grabbing his Potions text. "You're on bloody cloud nine still over the Ball."
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