Why, when looking for one particular shade of colour, is it that you can buy every variant besides the one you need. She didn't need a roughish rouge, crimson caroon or a pluckish plume.

Harry wanted red. A bog standard, primary colour red.

However it would seem every local art shop was seemingly lacking in the basics, either that or painting the town red had moved from saying to trend.

The shop assistant who was vaguely trying to be helpful, if you counted offering every colour under the sun bar the one Harry actually wanted as helpful, was now going through the abundance of green they had in stock.

Annoyed at how time seemed to be ticking by faster than she had planned, Harry reached into her back jean pocket and removed the slightly scuffed, mostly held together by various paint, phone and fired off a quick message to her friend waiting. A quick apology, stating she would be there soon as it was obvious this place was a bust. She really hoped he didn't mind waiting a bit longer, she could already hear the self-ascended tone of Draco whispering in her ear about rudeness.

The assistant didn't even to seem notice she had been texting, the way she was still carrying on.

Harry didn't want a jewelled jade or a gladed green, more so how that was even linked to red in the first place.

Also why in heaven did every paint colour need to come with a just dandy alliterated name?

Feeling her patience finally wear thin as her last paint shop option, the expensive one down the bottom of the road from their flat that charged 10x the amount her normally supply shops charged, Harry held up a hand to halt the sales spiel being fired her way.

"Look, I understand that you stock a just wonderful array of paint colours, but all I need is a standard red" She managed to ground out, one hand slipping her phone back away, the incoming buzz ignored in favour of crossing her arms over her chest. Yes it was defensive position in terms of body language but at this point it was either contain her hands or launch herself across the counter and shake the women silly.

Red. Red Acrylic Paint. Was it too much to ask for.

Rhetorical Question.

It had been a long day.

"Look Miss, we have a sheer abundance of other similar colours, surely one of those might do just as well as red. We here at Constance Artistry prid- "

Kerry, Kelsie, whatever her name was, Harry was a thread past a rational mind at this point. Seemed to carry on as if ignoring her point to begin with.


Normally Harry had a quite placid temperament, nothing really seemed to bother her.

Unfortunate bird splatter on the way to class? Turn the shirt inside out and remember it's lucky. Friend borrow your favourite dress and ruin it? You had those golden memories already in said dress plus added bonus of friend meeting their soulmate. Can't put a price on that feeling.

Class mate ask to borrow your last tube of red acrylic whilst you're nearing the end of a core piece to your diploma work.

Never lend it to them, disown them and burn their very soul from existence.

Friggin Malfoy.

Yes the bleach blonde hair he swears is natural was a picture after but still. Harry expected grovelling for eternity. Or a box of those imported sea salt chocolates that cost more than her week's groceries that he produced on occasion. Both infact, she was allowed to be greedy in her righteous anger.


"I think-"

A voice cut across the small shop, silencing the endless spiel coming from, maybe Kensie? She didn't care anymore, but that smooth baritone she would recognise anywhere.

" – that you might want to quit while the going is good, otherwise we might witness a rare explosion from my friend there"

Her sigh of annoyance was cut off as a pair of keys were jangled into her line of site. A pale, elegant hand coming to rest on her shoulder.

"Your Keys my dear" Barely a whisper next to her ear, but the sound still sent an unconscious shiver running through her.

"I'll give you my dear in a minute"

Harry felt herself mutter which only seemed to elect a small smirk on her companions face as she grabbed the keys from his grasp, pocketing them as her friend turned his full, charming self to the shop assistant.

"Thank you Kelly-

Here he paused to send what had been described by many as a knee dropping smile towards the women. Did Harry say charming self, she meant overbearing and annoying.

Also of course he could read the near illegible scrawl on the women's name badge. Harry was practically blind ok!? Cut her a break.

-for all your assistance with this matter, but we will take our leave I think.

Not even giving Harry a chance to leave a parting word, the hand resting on her shoulder steered her out the shop door. The shop assistant left all but drooling over the counter.

"You just couldn't resist could you" She couldn't help bite out sarcastically, resisting his tugging as best she could.

"I don't know what you mean Harriet, please desist with the fruitless struggling"

The smarmy git didn't even pause as he removed his hand and instead linked his arm through hers. Directing her down a narrow street away from her flat and leading further into the centre of London.

"I merely saved the poor women from what was bound to be a colourful spectacle on your part, the means are irrelevant"

Taking another left, she noticed they were heading towards the tube station.

"Just where are you leading me now anyway? I've got to be at work by 7pm and my change of clothes are in my flat, you know back that way" She finished with a wave of her hand behind them.

The look she received was almost mocking as he shuffled them through the barriers and onto the underground. Snagging a rare free seat, unfortunately with a partner next to it, she settled in for the journey only to reel back as a bag was pressed into her lap.

A very familiar bag.

Narrowing her eyes she met his amused red, she refused to call that tone brown, eyes head on.

"Why were you in my room" despite her dangerous tone the man simply brushed the question aside and held up a small business card.

"Ollivanders Art Supplies, it's rather dusty but the man also seems to have exactly what you need. Likes to mutter about art choosing the artist and what not. That's our destination"

The accompanying air quotes almost made her laugh. Almost.

She wasn't giving him the satisfaction despite the gesture being so unlike him. Besides he still hadn't answered her question. Was properly unlikely to as well, if for all the time she had known him was any indication.

"After you've attained what you need, we can go to dinner but at a place of my choosing instead now and continue with our discussion on the finer points of Norse mythology to help with your current diploma project. Then I will escort you to work and our business this evening will be concluded. I don't like my time to be wasteful Harriett"

Sometimes Harry got the distinct feeling that he planned things to happen just so. She couldn't prove it. But the suspicion was strong.

"Sorry for troubling you so much this evening"

She couldn't help but feel rather guilty. Dragging him round half of London had not been the plan when they had initially arranged to meet up after so long. Marvollo having been away abroad again for several months and despite the frequent email or text correspondence it wasn't quite the same. Besides the man was a fountain of knowledge on the strangest of things and had only been too happy to offer his assistance in person upon his return to London two days prior. Harry thought he just enjoyed lecturing her in person rather than through an email, more so he could hear the sound of his own voice.

"Dearest Harriett, you are never a trouble"

If the intense gauze wasn't enough, the lower almost seductive drawled tone made the smallest of heat lick at her cheeks. She didn't know why but something about him always made her feel that tad more vulnerable. With Ron and her other male friends, she could dish out just as much as they could give and more so. But with him. With Marvollo even.

If felt different. A game almost, although the rules she wasn't clear on yet. Nor the prize.

Just to spite him, not at all to escape such a gauze, Harry pulled out her phone ready to ignore him for the rest of the journey to whatever mystical art shop he was taking her to. Her companion sensing the change also drawing his own mobile out. No doubt either contacting one of his various 'minions' or browsing the political scene. Harry couldn't think of anything worse.

A message from Ron glowing on her screen caught her attention first. She did woefully realise she must introduce the pair at some point, either that or risk the duo meeting in some awkward arrangement. She loved Ron, truly, but when it came to new males appearing in their social group he seemed to become the embodiment of territorial Alpha male.


Draco had been the victim of a sudden upheaval on what was meant to be a pleasant paddle boating trip on a rare excursion to the coast on his first social outing with Ron and the rest of her friends. Not sure on how a semi serious attempt at drowning constituted as a mark of friendship but the two now had a tentative, yet snarky bromance of sorts. Harry liked to think of it as mutual love/hate relationship for the others hair if the insults thrown around were any indication.

Men and their petty dominance displays.

Again she loved Ron and his self-assumed role of big brother (never mind they were the same age) but Harry was a big girl. She could quite happily kick to the curb any male suitors she deemed below the bar. Not that Harry had any male suitors to start with so she didn't see Ron's worry. If she wasn't half covered in whatever art concoction she was using, oils stained everything and everywhere. Then she was normally in some mismatched fluffy loungewear that could make anyone's eyeballs bleed. Yes, Harry was the pinnacle of a homing beacon for all single man.

Thinking back to a potential meeting between Ron and Marvollo though. She got the distinct feeling that Ron might be the one so cowed this time.

Marvollo didn't look like the casual swimmer type.


Looking back at the flashing message icon she could help the almost quizzical double take at her best friend's message.

"Marvollo…. "

She received a non-committal hum from her right to her low tone.

"Was there anyone strange hanging around the flat when you were there, only I've had a message from Ron?"

Smiles like the one she received in response, should be made illegal.


AN: Poor Ron...

As always thoughts and feedback are much appreciated. I Beta this myself as well so any errors be kind please!

Thank you for reading!