"It was fantastic, wasn´t it?" he agreed. "The way he just flew backwards!"

Madam Pomfrey shooed them towards the door, which Ron was now holding open. Draco gave a last glance back at Harry as they left the infirmary. He hadn´t moved.

Draco trailed after Ron and Hermione as they hurried back towards Gryffindor Tower. Ron kept up a steady stream of chatter, the topic of which seemed to be how pleased everyone in Gryffindor would be that Harry had nearly killed Draco Malfoy in Potions. "Fred and George are thrilled," said Ron, "they hate that slimy git, he never plays fair at Quidditch-"

'No more do they!" yelped Malfoy in indignation, then clapped his hand over his mouth, but they had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady now and he got busy looking like his head really hurt so no one would look to him for the password.

"Boomslang," said Ron, and when the portrait swung forward, Draco followed him into the common room. Fred and George Weasley, sitting by the fire, greeted them with shouts of welcome. Draco looked around the room in irritation — the common room here was much nicer than the Slytherin one, which, being in the dungeon, was cold and had a tendency to drip during the winter. He would definitely be complaining to his father about this when he got his body back.

He trailed Ron and Hermione slowly over to the fire — he detested Fred and George, not just because they always hit the Bludgers right at him during Quidditch matches, but also because they´d become really obnoxious ever since they´d opened up their own mail-order joke shop, the stock for which was now trading at over a hundred Galleons a share on the MSE (Magical Stock Exchange.) They'd even taken a year off school to run the thing. Draco had not missed them.