Have you ever tried to attempt small talk with someone who's clearly injured, hence in a bad mood?
"So, what did you think of Prof. McGonagall's Transfiguration lesson?" Harry asked, to a groaning Draco Malfoy who shot him a glance that screamed 'so not in the mood.'
When you're not truly friends, and they really don't want you to be looming over them in a bed, looking nonchalant?
"Have you gotten all your Christmas presents together?" Harry asked, fiddling, and not really wanting to admit he hadn't gotten people anything better than chocolate frogs and IOUs. Which, knowing purebloods, he'd have to explain.
"You're not getting one, you nobber," Draco Malfoy said, and the profanity was so odd that Harry Potter actually thought it sounded more like something Dobby would have said. And if there was anything likely to drive a house-elf to profanity, it was Draco Malfoy, spoiled brat extraordinaire. (Harry actually wouldn't have been surprised to learn that Draco Malfoy turned mild as milk if people truly needed him to be. It just wasn't his normal temper.).
Nevermind why I was there, it was Awkward. Harry Potter thought. Of course, it doesn't actually help that Draco Malfoy doesn't know why I'm here - clearly, he's trying to keep the look of puzzlement off his face, but he's like a cat on ice, testing every step. Wary, and with good reason.
"Potter, why won't you go away?" Draco Malfoy got up enough energy to snarl.
He wouldn't like it if I explained. If I leave him here alone, he'll lie - and Snape's never taken kindly to lies, be they selfish or no. I couldn't rightly say what lie he'd go with, but it wouldn't be the unvarnished truth.
Harry Potter shrugged, and, a bit aimless, picked up some metal instruments, and started walking them along the bed. "Potter," Draco Malfoy said, "If you don't stop that, I'm going to poke you with them."
Which, however stupid it may be, is going to be what Snape is going to want to hear.
"Gotta catch me first!" Harry said, grinning triumphantly, and dancing halfway across the wing.
Bother. Some madman had left Draco with his wand (or else the Wing was full of beds with wands stored under pillows...).
Draco intoned, "Rumspringa" and the wheels on his bed began to spin.
This might sound like it was less of a fun game than it actually turned out to be - Harry knew how to dodge, and dash, and Draco had to steer around the other beds.
"What were you thinking?!" Snape belted - clearly still coming through the door, as he hadn't yet caught sight of the chaotically rumpled nature of the infirmary.
The boys shot each other a shared look of panic.
Snape slammed the infirmary doors open (he had to have a spell to see what was inside, Harry decided, or perhaps just where the Matron was. Because if he ruined a treatment, Hades wouldn't be far enough to escape Pomphrey's wrath.). Then, he stopped dead, looking in shock and impending disbelief at the sheeted chaos in front of him.
Snape turned around, closed the doors. Then he pressed his wand in two - rather arbitrary looking - dimples (there were actually a ton) in the back of the door.
Snape released a sigh, and said, "Perhaps you'd better start from the beginning..."
Draco Malfoy opened his mouth, and Snape cut him off, saying, "Your skill at dissembling precedes you, young Lord Malfoy. Potter will do for a brief report."
Leave it to Snape to compliment a Slytherin while telling them to shut up.
[a/n: "In the most delicious way..." Leave a review? I love these chapters, where something completely unplanned happens.
Suffice it to say, Snape is Not Amused.]