Attention Barking Sheep
Harry checked himself in the mirror. His face was clean shaven, and his hair almost tamed.
It was Wednesday today, and the guests for the Chrisnukha dinner would soon arrive. In fact, his doorbell should ring any moment. Ginny and Hermione had promised to be here early to help with the dinner preparations. Harry himself was everything but a talented chef.
He was nervous about seeing Ginny today. Their date on Monday went unexceptionally well, so well in fact, that they went out again on Tuesday. But while Monday was a romantic comedy at the cinema, Tuesday was a plunge straight down the rabbit hole.
It started innocent enough. Little touches, and small butterfly kisses here and there. Holding hands. A glance in each others direction.
But soon their kisses became more intense and they were too occupied with each other to see the end of the film.
Ginny opened her blouse, and the silky fabric slid off her shoulders. Her perfume was a bit too intense and too flowery, and burned his nose, but Harry decided not to care. In his best attempt to appear heterosexual,his fingers found their way underneath Ginny's skirt.
Ginny moaned. Her head fell back, and exposed her slender neck. Her fingernails were scratching his scalp, his neck, then down to his shoulder blades. His lips grazed her breastbone, glided towards her erect buds, moving further down.
"Yessss, just right there... Yeah, yeah, yeah... More... ." Ginny exhaled, her body twitching underneath him, as his tongue dipped into her belly button. So far, it wasn't too bad.
Down, down, further down. Ginny spread her legs in anticipation. With shaking and unruly fingers, he tried to unbutton his shirt, but those tricky little nuisances called buttons didn't want to budge. Harry grew frustrated, and ripped the bloody fabric off.
As he continued kissing down on Ginny's stomach, she pushed him back.
Harry looked at her, confused. All lust had disappeared from her face. In fact, she looked disgusted, with her nose wrinkled and her lips drawn downwards.
She was starring at Harry's naked chest and stomach.
Harry knew that he wasn't in best shape. Despite being on the skinny side, he had a little potbelly, thanks to many years of unhealthy eating habits, and too much beer. He emptied his lungs, then drew his stomach in as much as he could. If suffocating himself was required to get laid tonight, so be it!
He was just about to lean forward again, but Ginny was already getting dressed. She was still starring at Harry's torso, rolling her eyes and telling him to breathe again. "Harry,this is not about your shape!" Ginny drawled, then paused as is she had to think of the right words. "It's just... I mean,..." She took another deep breath, then started playing with the fur on his chest. "Have you ever considered... you know... to groom yourself?"
Now it was Harry's turn to stare. He had had a shower just right before their date. He had used body lotion, and deodorant, and even a small spritz of Hugo Boss homme. He shaved his beard, combed his locks, and put on clean underwear.
What else was there to do?
The confusion must have shown on his face, as Ginny went to explain: "You know... shaving or waxing off that..." she then pulled at a couple of his chest hairs.
Understanding finally dawned on Harry's face.
Harry starred at the innocent looking wax strips in front of him. He wasn't sure about putting them on his chest at all. The procedure looked painful and inhuman in his eyes. If wax strips had been invented in medieval times, they wouldn't have been used as grooming equipment, but torture devices!
He read over the instructions for the third time, and almost memorised it word by word. It was pretty straight forward: take a strip, warm it up between your hands, pull it apart, and apply to the area you plan on freeing off body hair.
Harry looked down on his naked body. the hair on his chest was thick and curly, and there was a small ring around his belly button, that travelled down to his pubes. He only had to wax of his chest, right? The hair further downstairs was totally acceptable on a bloke, wasn't it?
Harry took a very deep breath.
Then another one.
Finally, he opened the pack. He warmed it up as instructed, feeling a bit stupid by doing so, then pulled them apart. He wasn't so sure about applying both halves at the same time, and decided that it would be best to only try one.
He stuck the first half to the middle of his chest, and placed the second one on the closed toilet seat next to him.
'That actually doesn't feel too bad' he thought. The warmth was comfortable, as he smoothed the strip down his chest.
According to the instruction manual, he now had to pull it off in one swift movement. Harry thought that this was probably similar to removing a plaster. He had a lot of experience with that. Having been a kid with a skateboard led to a lot of badly scraped knees.
The pain was piercing.
Harry let out a shriek, and stumbled backwards, until he found a surface to sit down on. Then he took a deep breath. He glanced down his chest, expecting to find a deep gash with his bones sticking out, and his clavicle exposed, but only found a spot of hairless skin.
Judged by the size of it, he would have to repeat the experience at least ten times. Harry almost screamed again.
Resigned, he reached for the strip he had placed onto the toiled seat, just to realise that he...
...sat right on top of it.
Harry jumped up as if bitten by a poisonous snake, but it was too late. That dreaded thing had already attached itself to Harry's probably most painful area.
Harry carefully walked the two steps to his sink and grabbed it with both hands. Then he exhaled deeply. He clenched his teeth, and squinted his eyes. For a moment, he rested his head on the cold porcelain, hoping it would soothe his nerves. A moment later he splashed his face with cold water.
Harry waddled towards his bed, and very slowly lowered himself onto the mattress. Every movement was literally a pain in the backside.
He spread his legs in slow motion, thinking that he looked like a pregnant woman, minus the womb. But giving birth was probably less painful then what he was about to do.
Sucking in his breath, he moved his left hand to stretch the skin around the waxing strip, and then counted to three. He was just about to pull, when every ounce of bravery left his body.
He panted for a moment, then tried again. His hands were shaking now. He stretched his skin as hard as possible, inhaled as much air as his smoker's lung would allow, then bit his pillow while attempting to pull the strip one more time. Sweat was cocooning his body.
Harry managed to remove about half an inch in slow motion. The pain was the most horrible thing he had ever experienced in his life! As far as he remembered, being kneed into the same area was almost pleasant in comparison.
There was only one thing left to do: Harry started to cry.
This was the moment the doorbell rang.
Hermione and Ginny had arrived.
"Shit! shit! shit! shit! shit!" Harry could hardly pretend that he wasn't at home. He had invited them.
"One moment!" He shouted to buy himself a few more minutes. "I'm having a dump!"
He heard the girls giggling, and some murmur from downstairs-dude about 'too much information.'
Very carefully, he moved his legs and the rest of his body, until he archived a sitting position, then waddled to his wardrobe, and grabbed some comfy Adidas sweatpants and a T-Shirt.
Harry had to hold his breath once again, as he tried to lift one leg to put his trousers on.
There was another ring on his doorbell, and a loud knock on the door. The girls grew impatient, and he heard Hermione shout: "Mate, did you get a severe case of diarrhoea overnight?"
Harry thought that he would trade his misery for a severe case of diarrhoea at any time.
For a moment he thought about shouting back "yes, I have," because he needed to find an explanation for his funny walk. But didn't people with leaking fluids tend to move rather fast? This was precisely what Harry was trying to avoid. "I'm sorry, but I've hurt my back really badly!" He said instead, continuing his mission to reach the door within the next two minutes. "I'll be right here," he informed the girls.
Walking turned out to be a little less painful when he spread his legs, bent his knees, and puffed out his bum as far as possible.
He reached the door, and opened it for his friends to enter.
"Oh my poor Harry," Ginny cooed, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Hermione rolled her eyes, and proceeded to the kitchen.
"Oh Harry," Ginny cooed again. "Will you tell me what happened?Your back was in perfect condition when you left my place earlier?
'Uh Oh', Harry thought. He had never been a good liar. He was thinking really hard. What would be the best excuse for back pain?
He must have taken too long to reply, because Ginny was now looking at him with raised eyebrows. "I"m fine," Harry answered quickly. "Its just, that... I have a headache, too." He had no idea were this lie came from, it just emerged from his mouth. Ginny brushed her hand through his hair. "Just lie down, and let me give you a back massage, I guarantee you'll feel much better in just a few moments."
What sounded to be a great offer at any other time didn't hold any appeal to Harry at the moment. "You know, I don't think this is a good idea," he said. "My back hurts quite a lot, and my doctor advised me that a massage would only increase the pain."
Ginny seemed to accept his explanation. "You've seen a doctor already? How did you get an appointment so quick?" Are you in a lot of pain?" She fired her questions at him, then looked around the room. "Where is your medication?" She asked.
"Medication?" Harry replied.
"Yes, medication!" Ginny confirmed, "for your back. You look like you're in a lot of pain, the doctor must have prescribed you some painkillers. Where are they? You look like you need one."
"Erm..." Harry scratched his head. He had to think up something fast. "I didn't, couldn't pick up the prescription yet," he said. Ginny nodded. "No problem Harry, where did you put it? I can get it for you."
"Well..." Harry started, praying for an epiphany to drag him back out of that mess. "I had a painkiller at the doctor's. He gave me one, and then the prescription for some more. It was quite a strong one. Very strong. I'm not supposed to take another pill for the rest of the day. I'm supposed to take another one tomorrow, if my back doesn't get better overnight. If I still need it tomorrow, I'll go and pick it up in the morning. Yes, that what I'll do!" He blurred out, nodding to himself.
He must have gained some acting skills, because Ginny looked like she believed every word. Harry sighed with relief, but then looked towards the kitchen.
Hermione was standing in the door frame, left eyebrow raised, and both arms crossed. Harry swallowed. She was not convinced.
"Harry, can I have a word?" Hermione asked. Her eyebrow sat so high that Harry wasn't sure whether it was still a part of her face. She had started tapping her foot as well. The right one.
Not good at all.
Harry gulped, and was just about to get up and waddle over to his bathroom, or 'the Communication Centre for Affairs of Utter Privacy' as Draco had nicknamed it.
Fortunately, Harry was saved by the bell. Ron had arrived.
A short time later, everyone was gathered around Harry's small couch.
Just as everyone was about to get comfortable, the doorbell rang again. Harry was surprised. He hadn't invited everyone else. Before he managed to waddle to the door, which would probably lead to having to explain the back pain story again, Hermione had sprung up and opened the door, a 'you owe me' expression on her face.
Harry almost spat out his food when he saw Blaise and Daphne enter his flat. The two of them spotted big grins on their faces, as if they were happy to see Harry again. Harry's lips curled in a snarl. He didn't want those two people at his party. He hadn't spoken to Blaise since his friend's unfortunate invitation to their own Christmas dinner which Harry had declined. What where those traitors doing here, and who invited them? Harry looked around the room.
He glared at Hermione, who quirked her eyebrow again. Harry realised that she did that a lot lately.
For a small moment, he considered storming out of the room, like a toddler in the prime of a tantrum. Unfortunately, that scenario involved a lot of footwork, and Harry was not up for that. Waxing strips could be so inconsiderate!
Hermione and Ginny played perfect hosts. None of them had been bothered by Harry's childish behaviour. In fact, they acted as if they had expected nothing less, which only fuelled Harry's frustration more.
He had to be alone. He needed to get out of here!
With a lot of effort, he managed to get up, and waddled towards the bathroom. He locked the door behind him, then carefully sat down on the toilet and sulked.
If they wanted to have great time without his participation, they would have to do so without a bathroom, because this one was going to be blocked until the last person went home.
Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest for good measurement.
A short time later, someone knocked on the door. A satisfactory smile played around Herry's lips.
The person knocked again. Harry, of course didn't react. This bathroom was not going to be taken over by the enemy! He would remain on his toilet seat until the enemy retreated. Defeated by full bladders or wet trousers.
The person outside the door was very persistent. They knocked again. And again. And again. Then Harry thought he heard a stifled sigh. 'One down, four to go' the thought to himself.
Something was moving on the other side of the door. Maybe they haven't given up yet. Then Harry heard a funny noise. It sounded like metal. He listened more carefully. It sounded like a screwdriver. Harry looked up just as the door opened, and Hermione walked in. She closed the door behind her, and sat cross-legged in the ground. She starred at Harry without saying a word.
It unnerved him. He was convinced that he just shrank a couple of inches. Nervously, Harry started to fidget.
Hermione was still starring. She hadn't said a word, her eyebrow wasn't raised, and her arms uncrossed. Harry gulped. This fake calmness was scarier than a tantrum. He had no idea what to do. Perhaps, ignoring her would be a fantastic idea? Harry tried his best to focus on his fingers, drumming a steady rhythm onto the toilet seat.
Something smacked his head.
Harry saw the toilet roll falling into his lap, and looked at Hermione, who was still sitting of the floor, armed with two more rolls, just for the case she might need them.
"What's the matter?" Harry barked at her.
"That's what I would like to know, too," she replied.
Harry threw the toilet roll back at her, but Hermione didn't seem to be bothered. She started humming, and Harry recognised the melody. It was HIS kicking cotton balls song! How could SHE hum his song when he was angry with her?
"You know, mate, why don't you just tell me what's wrong with you before this bottled up anger is causing you a heart attack?"
Harry huffed. "Attention barking sheep!" He mumbled, using the same expression Draco had used every time Harry did something to annoy him.
"I see, you're acting like a proper grown up today?" Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "Blaise and Daphne left, by the way," she added. "They don't understand what's going on with you either." Harry was about to explode .
"You've been acting strange since we got here!" The inquisitive eyebrow was now back in full force.
'There we go' Harry thought. He knew Hermione didn't buy his back pain story, but had honestly hoped that the party was distraction enough to nag him about it.
'Whatever' he thought. He would not give in! "I have back pains!" He pressed between clenched teeth, stretching every word to emphasise his annoyance.
"You don't" Hermione replied, starring him straight in the eyes. Harry banged his head at the cooling bathroom tiles, then let out a huff and told her the entire story.