“I have neither the time nor the crayons to explain this to you.” Draco was getting tired of the constant interruptions keeping him from his paperwork. He wanted to be able to finish quickly so he could go home and relax with a glass of firewhiskey. At this rate, he might get home by midnight—next June.
“Very funny, Malfoy. I may not be as smart as Hermione, but I’m not that dense,” Ron complained.
“No one is as smart as Hermione, and yes you are. Now get lost, Weasel, I’ve got work to do.”
“You won’t be able to finish it as a ferret,” Ron threatened, but Draco could tell he was just messing with him.
“I’m sure Crookshanks would love a pet weasel to play with,” Draco shot back, grinning mischievously.
“Are you two children quite finished?” Harry said, grinning, as he strode into Draco’s office.
“The weasel’s bothering me again,” Draco complained.
“Keep it up, ferret, we’ll see who becomes Crookshanks’ new pet,” Ron muttered.
“See? Ron keeps threatening me,” Draco whined.
“You need to muzzle your ferret, Harry, before he gets himself in trouble.”
“Leave me out of it,” Harry protested, raising his hands palms outward. “This is between you two. Just remember, weasels and ferrets are related, so you two need to start acting like family.” He ducked, grinning, as two pillows from the office sofa were levitated and aimed at his head.
“See, I knew you could work together!”