Not your usual Veela mate

These will be your rooms

Monday, Sept 2

The group walked silently together, each lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, they reached a part of the castle that was abandoned these days since the school no longer housed married couples and their families.

Snape, stalking in his normal fashion, came to an abrupt halt before a portrait of a young knight posing over a dead dragon, his armour shining in the sun. Making a face of distaste, Severus snapped out, "Love is like a red, red, rose," looking as if he had unexpectedly swallowed a handful of Dumbledore's lemon drops.

Harry bit back a giggle, doing his best to school his face into a blank mask when Snape turned his head and glared at him, as if he was the one who had forced the Potions master to utter such a sappy phrase.

"It truly is," the knight exclaimed happily, removing his helmet and mopping his brow. "Why, just the other day I was telling the lovely Violet that very same thing, and she-"

"Yes, yes, now open the blasted door! Isn't that your duty? Or are you incapable of doing even that simple task?" Snape ground out, interrupting what promised to be a long story. His black eyes were shooting daggers at the knight, who huffed and allowed his painting to swing open, revealing the doorway he had been guarding.

Clasping a hand before his mouth, Harry realised with horror that even the act of biting his cheek wasn't enough to prevent himself from laughing, and he desperately turned his giggles into a fake cough. This turned into a real cough as he choked on his giggles. Merlin, but who ever had chosen that portrait to guard their room had not taken Snape into consideration. Vaguely wondering if it was possible to murder a painting, Harry followed the others inside, doing his best to catch his breath.

Severus gave him a gimlet eye, obviously suspecting what was going through Harry's mind, and the black haired teen swiftly shifted his eyes away from the onyx ones that were promising him pain and retributions if the Potions master's suspicions were proven true.

Taking a few steps to the side, under the pretext of taking in the living room, Harry finally managed to get his breathing back under control. That was a bit too close. At least he hasn't taken any points yet. Then again, with McGonagall standing right next to me... Not that that has stopped him in the past, the greasy git!

Hmm, I wonder if Snape made that face at the knight or at the password. Both are hideous. I bet that knight was a Gryffindor. I wonder what happened to him? Maybe I will ask him one day. Harry mused absentmindedly, shaking his head at the truly horrible décor of the room. I can only hope that the rest of the rooms aren't as hideous as this one. No way in hell will I be able to relax and enjoy myself in here. I wonder if Malfoy can change things around a bit?

And speaking of change, that password has got to be replaced at earliest opportunity. I mean, could they get any sappier? Or is it Dumbledore's way of trying to give me a hint or two? Then again, the way he was practically ordering me to jump into Malfoy's bed...

Feeling a stirring in the air, Harry figured that now was not the time to consider the Headmaster and his plots. He would do that later, in private, when he had far less prying eyes watching his every move.

Returning his focus on his surroundings, Harry sighed and spoke up for the first time since leaving the Headmaster's office. "I trust Malfoy and I will be able to change things around in here? I mean, who ever did the decorating in here tried way too hard to unite the four houses." Harry made a sweeping gesture with his arm, taking in the orange coloured furniture, the green coloured textiles of the tapestries decorating the walls. The throw pillows on the sofa and the armchairs were blue, and the rug on the floor was a vibrant red, making Harry feel as if he was standing on a fire.