Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter characters and the whole world created around it; all belong to J.K. Rowling, who we all worship and serve. I just love to manipulate them to serve my own selfish needs.
But I do own Alex Ladon, Finbar Ganad, Darragh Ganad (and their mom), The Zabini Family (bar Blaise of course), and some minor characters (Orion, North, Gloves, Rufus…). DO NOT USE THESE UNLESS YOU HAVE MY PERMISSION!
The plot comes from the voices inside my head. You have been warned.
Chapter Fourteen – Talk
"Terebokime!" - Harry Potter
Draco trudged along the sidewalk, his eyes trained on the ground, the hood of his jumper pressing damply against his neck. It seemed incredibly ridiculous for the school to take the students for a day at the pool while it was pouring buckets outside. Nevertheless, he let his legs carry him on automatic pilot towards the bus stop.
As he walked, he let his thoughts wander over the past few days and admitted to himself that his self-confidence had gotten such an extreme pummeling lately -and not all of it thanks to Potter- that he was quite reluctant to go parading around in nothing but swimming trunks. He'd thought that after a few days he'd be able to work up his anger for Potter once more, considering that virtually the entire school seemed to have rallied together against him, but instead, he just felt numb. Frankly, what his fellow peers might think of him was the absolute least of his worries.
Alex had warned him. More than once. But he'd been so sure he'd be able to make it work somehow, and yet, all the time and work he'd put into the whole facade was prematurely coming to pieces. His father knew. Draco hadn't figured out who had been the rat, but his father had found out nevertheless. He was quite sure that last night was the second worst experience he'd gone through in his entire life. First, he'd gone barking about the brawl with Potter. That alone had been enough to merit two day's worth of terribly commentary on his every move. But yesterday...
With his connections in high places, Lucius Malfoy had managed to sap every last bit of information that was available concerning his son and Alex. Draco was sure he knew more about her than that she knew about herself. He could have done without knowing. At least Lucius had made it clear that Alex Ladon had once been dangling by a string on the lowest rung of society. And while Draco didn't particularly mind, not as he once might have, Lucius did. He minded a lot. Especially that he was still friends with her and that the elusive 'girlfriends' he'd had over the last years had all been one and the same. The one person Lucius had explicitly forbidden him to ever consort with again.
The row that had ensued had been one worthy of epic tales.
His mother had been beside herself, unable to decide which side to take. On one hand, the man she loved so very much was being unreasonable, and on the other, her only son who'd just displayed the nastiest side of him yet.
And as if that wasn't enough, Blaise was acting awful peculiar. He was being increasingly distant, not only to him, but Alex as well. He seemed far away and had taken to frowning at just about everything. Draco would have welcomed some support, but he wasn't getting anything from that quarter. Although Alex had only been back a day, she had given him all the support she had to give. But, honestly, it wasn't much. Her impromptu bout with sickness wasn't just the sudden onset of the flu. Underneath it all was stress. Alex had finally broken down and revealed a terrible secret; the orphanage had asked her to leave. With Gabriël already gone and a recent influx of new strays, the orphanage was in dire need of space. The orphanage decided that there just wasn't enough space to keep her; besides, she was nineteen and way beyond the permitted age to remain without cost. So, before Christmas, she was to be banished from the only home she knew.
Lastly, he would have been perfectly satisfied, relieved even, if Potter had been nasty to him. But no, he was acting as if nothing had ever happened. Which just made everything doubly worse.
Draco sat on the bus, soaking his seat with rainwater, brooding. The swelling on his lip had subsided, but the cut was still scabbing and apparently not in a hurry to heal. As was his habit nowadays, he touched the tip of his tongue to it, tracing the furrow back and forth again.
No, he wasn't looking forward to a nice day to the pool at all.
--
Harry and Ron stood chatting together, shoulders hunched against the rain. Around them fifth, sixth, and seventh years were gathering, waiting until everybody was assembled to be admitted inside. McGonnagal swooped by, wearing a plastic rain-cap in the customary tartan fashion, taking names.
"Harry," Ron said in an ominous sort of way. "D'you reckon, McGonnagal will be-" he swallowed thickly, "joining us?"
Harry made a face at him. "If she does I hope she'll be wearing a one-piece. Not some small tartan bikini."
"Urgh, Harry shut up right now." Ron mimed vomiting into his pack that contained his swimming gear. "I need to go and wash my brain with soap now."
"You'll have a whole pool to flush your head with in a moment, Ron. I'll even help if you like," Harry said.
"Thanks, you're a real mate," Ron said dryly, punching him playfully.
Harry knew he should feel bad about it, but the last few days had been so great that it was hard to muster even the tiniest shred of remorse. With Ron and Hermione at odds with each other at the moment, Harry and Ron had been virtually hip-to-hip all week. And if he wasn't with Ron, there was Hermione. It was like the first week of school again when both of them were first genuinely interested in him. As soon as they passed that first week, Ron and Hermione had begun to spend less and less time everyone. They'd been a fresh couple at the end of August, and with the year long friendship between them they'd both had to adjust. But over the past few weeks, they'd grown more familiar to the new relationship (barring the arguments) between them and Harry had taken a second seat.
Ron was Harry's close friend here in Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, but he hadn't been around long enough to be the same for Ron. The only other one with whom he connected with in a more profound manner, besides Ron, was Darragh. Harry sighed before shaking his head to get rid of all the thoughts milling around his brain.
A gaggle of girls passed them and began giggling madly. They continued watching them, eyelashes batting, smiling coyly over their shoulders.
"You know what," Ron said. "It's not fair."
"What?"
"That!" Ron exclaimed flapping an arm in the girls' direction. "You announce that you're gay and suddenly all the girls are fawning over you."
Harry's neck became very hot. "That's not true."
"Yes it is," Ron said, giving him an almost blaming look. "It's as if they're all suddenly making it a point to win you back. You're a challenge. And on top of that you impressed us all with beating Malfoy down a notch or two."
Looking back at the clique of tittering fifth years, not without a bit of apprehension, Harry had to admit that girls were acting different. He was used to being invisible; he'd always seemed to project anti-female waves. Part of it was probably due to his total lack of eloquence; girls stumped him completely. And they giggled. All the time. Even when there was nothing to giggle about. Harry used to have a giggle-free zone that surrounded him at all times. Now all the girls giggled at him.
"There's Malfoy now," Ron said.
And indeed, the blonde came ambling up towards the crowd with a look that was even darker than the weather. His lip was still a bit funny looking, with a nasty ridge of scar tissue topping it off. Harry knew his green and yellow colored nose wasn't exactly appealing, and neither were the inflamed looking bite-marks on his neck. He still hadn't had his glasses replaced and had resigned to wearing his lenses until he got them back.
The blonde joined his two friends; Alex was still looking peaky and much too thin, and Zabini seemed to have gotten there purely on luck judging by his vacant expression. They all stood there, silent as mice. It was almost as if they stood together solely out of habit. Like a flock of sheep. Harry's entertaining train of thought -Malfoy with tight curls and a bell around his neck, bleating- was interrupted by the arrival of Finbar.
"Hiya Fi-" Ron began. "WHOA, I didn't know you needed glasses!"
Finbar blinked at them, and slid his spectacles further up his nose. "You didn't? Well, I've had them for as long as I could remember. I'm a bit nearsighted. I usually wear lenses though, but I've a knack for losing them in swimming pools, so I wore my glasses. Less trouble anyway."
"He looks so smart with them," Darragh piped in, petting his brother's rain-slick hair.
And he did. Then again, Harry though with a pang of jealousy, was there anything Finbar wouldn't look good in? Bloody unfair.
Darragh, with his reputation of having a nasty temperament in the morning, was squinting blearily around. He'd make a fine addition to Malfoy's clique, Harry thought; he looked every bit as ragged and tired as the three of them. And he seemed cranky to boot.
"Yeah, keep staring Corner. I might do a trick!" He sneered at a hapless Michael Corner, who was unlucky enough to pass by.
Corner cast a furtive glance at Harry and scurried away. Darragh and Harry had done nothing to dismiss the rumors that they were apparently hot and heavy together. Consequently, most guys who had previously made it a sport to make homophobic comments around Darragh had backed of in fear that Harry might come and pulverize them as well. Corner, especially, watched Harry with the look of a small rodent hiding from the big bad wolf. Of course, pummeling Malfoy might have something to do with that.
Darragh had made it a point to shout 'Get him, Harry' to just about everybody who looked at them twice, to great amusement of their friends. On top of that, he had decided that they'd needed a theme song, and when he got Harry to go along with it , they sang loudly -and rather off key- The Bad Touch from The Bloodhound Gang.
"Hello boys," Parvati greeted them in her throaty way of hers as she joined them. "Dean here yet?"
"No, not yet," Harry said, avoiding her eyes.
Despite the awkward situation during Halloween, Parvati and Dean had decided to give dating a tentative go. Or not so tentative, if you saw them wrapping themselves around one other like octopuses and using every possible minute engaging in semi-professional tonsil-hockey. It was all rather embarrassing really; at least that was how Harry felt.
"You look nice without your glasses, Harry," she commented, looking at him from under her long lashes.
"Er, thanks," Harry said, feeling his neck grow warm again. He didn't like not wearing his spectacles; it made him feel oddly vulnerable.
Parvati's sister joined them, as dark and lovely as her sister. "Still haven't made up with Hermione?" Padma asked Ron, shrewdly.
"None of your business," Ron growled back, rain dripping down his nose. He took a step closer to Finbar, apparently attempting to shield himself.
"Touchy," Padma said, flicking her dark braid over a shoulder, splattering Ron with raindrops that flew out of the thick strands. "Never mind about that then."
She turned to her twin, playfully patting Parvati's cheek, "So, excited at seeing your new boyfriend in his swimming trunks?"
Parvati arched an eyebrow and returned flatly, "Excited about seeing Mister Zabini in nothing but his swimming trunks?"
"Oh hush!" Padma blushed, glancing over at the youth in question.
Both Darragh and Finbar were frowning, evidently not sure about this open admission. Darragh especially cast a significant look at his brother as if to say 'I knew we should have brought the pesticide' and crossed his arms over his chest.
Not long after that, everybody had assembled and they were subsequently herded into the facility. Once inside, everyone began stripping off their garments in an effort to acclimate to the oppressive warmth. The pool was an enormous domed complex with a sub-tropical theme. A main pool with smaller ones annexed to it via small waterways was decorated with plants and trees, and several sorts of slides, rapids and attractions. And it was all rented just for the students of Hogwarts.
The professors gestured to the changing halls and their cubicles, with pale yellow doors and where everyone changed in the same enormous room. Yells and giggles filled the hallways of the changing cubicles with harsh echoes as everyone dashed off to find unoccupied ones.
Harry, with his new status of not-to-be-messed-with, got one with relative ease and went inside. The cubicle was narrow and he hit his elbow painfully against the door as he pulled his jumper over his head. As always, the place smelled distinctly of chlorine and wet feet.
"Harry, Harry, you naughty boy!" Someone's voice echoed from a few cubicles further down the left.
"What?" he called back.
"You know what!" Darragh responded. "But don't let that stop you, though."
Rolling his eyes as everybody around them started either giggling or muttering, Harry said, accustomed to the boy's antics by now, "All right then, hands against the wall."
"You going to search me?" A short silence, then "Lower, lower, yeah, much, much lower."
"I feel left out!"
"Seamus?" Harry and Darragh chorused.
"Yeah."
"All right, then, come on in."
"Have to wait your turn, though," Darragh said.
"I'll watch." Seamus called back.
All around them people were emitting scandalized noises, gossip flying wild. When Harry exited, carrying his clothing hanger, he was laughing too hard to be embarrassed. Seamus opened his door on the opposite side of the hallway, wearing trunks in a hideous shade of puce, grinning quite broadly himself.
"Oh, you were just pretending, for a moment I thought-" A girl's voice said from their left.
Harry raised his eyebrows inquiringly, daring her.
Susan Bones faltered and hurried away wearing a yellow and black two-piece, her clothes clutched to her protectively.
"To think they honestly believed that," Ron said as he came out of the cubicle right next to Harry's. "Some might really believe you've gone to the Dark Side, too, Seamus."
Seamus shrugged, unperturbed by how his social image might fare. "They're just jealous that I'm part of Harry's harem and they're not. On an entirely different note, though, I hope someone loses their top. I mean, look! Nearly every girl here is not wearing your normal one-piece." He looked blissful, eyes homing on every female that dared emerge from a cubicle in his vicinity.
"Let alone one that fits," Finbar said dryly as he joined them. His black hair lay askew from pulling his garments over his head.
The boys smiled appreciatively as they walked into the actual pool after locking their clothes away. Everywhere you looked girls were scampering around in tiny bikinis, giggling madly and looking at the boys from under their lashes. One girl Harry only vaguely recognized 'accidentally' ran straight into his chest and apologized with slightly disturbing tittering, her eyes glued to his tattoo.
Ron was scowling.
Knowingly, Harry watched Hermione walk at the edge of the pool in a simple and decent yet flattering two-piece. Her hair was a foaming mass of curls down her back. Ginny waved cheerfully at them as she walked beside her, her red hair like a shining beacon in the relative whiteness of the pool complex. She'd taken it upon herself to keep Hermione from having to wander around by her lonesome. Most of their clique were boys and consequently hang out together. And because that included Ron, Hermione pointedly avoided them though she was always pleasant when they engaged her without Ron around.
They managed to secure a table and plastic chairs for all of them. Harry draped his towel over his and carefully put the box for his lenses in the backpack Ron had taken along for such things. Dean possessed an awesome towel with the Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles on, while Darragh was humming the theme-song of Spongebob as he arranged a towel with said cartoon character emblazoned on it. Making certain their belongings were under a watchful eye, Ron, Harry and Dean set out to explore a bit. The latter seemed strangely anxious, eyes darting left and right. Harry suspected this had something to do with Parvati.
"Oh God," Ron groaned.
Dean made a strangled noise as if someone had slapped him around the face with a dead chicken.
Harry was at a loss.
Following their glazed eyes, he soon found Parvati and Padma running after each other in the knee-deep water with all sorts of interesting movements as a consequence. They splashed water; darted around one other, and laughed as they performed their strange game of tag. You had to give it to them, they were extraordinarily beautiful. All slim, tan bodies, long slender legs and big dark eyes. Harry was about to move on without his two friends when there was a loud yelp. Parvati had 'accidentally' given Padma a push so she collided straight into Blaise. Padma grabbed onto him, and Blaise, with the water hampering him, fell backwards and disappeared from view under the surface.
Padma was momentarily stunned and then made to reach for his splashing form.
"Oh, get a hold of yourself Patil!" Draco informed her witheringly, shoving her away and hoisting Blaise out of the water.
He made a rather funny sight, gasping for air and holding Draco's arm rather firmly. "Bloody hell! Can't you two see where you're going?" Blaise said hoarsely, wiping angrily at the dark hair that plastered itself persistently against his face.
Harry's brain stopped functioning properly about right then, looking at Malfoy's spare, lithe body as he waded deeper into the water. He was loudly abusing the Patil twins, glaring back at them over his shoulder. So sure, he was bony and pale, all angles and jutting hip bones, and even so he looked utterly, remarkably, attractive. His body was like alabaster even as he walked next to Zabini, who was a lovely olive sheen.
"She's a bit obvious, isn't she?" Alex said loudly as she appeared next to Harry. "Hey, hello?" She raised her voice and nudged him with her elbow.
"Er, what? I didn't quite catch..." Harry said, flustered.
"Never mind," Alex said, furrowing her white eyebrows at him suspiciously. "Men." she scoffed under her breath, though Harry heard her
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked defensively.
"Nothing at all," she said, shaking her head at Ron and Dean's lowered jaws as Parvati came up to her boyfriend, water-drops sliding sensuously down her body. Padma trailed behind, looking troubled. "That's my cue to leave. Better check how much pool water Blaise swallowed before he starts acting funny."
Harry, seeing that Ron and Dean were clearly not intent on moving any time soon, accompanied her.
They made a stop at their table so Harry could take out his lenses. Seamus and Neville were playing a game of snap, which Neville was losing grotesquely. Seamus stared not subtly at all at Alex's cleavage, who resorted to hiding behind Harry and looked deeply confused. The both of them set out along side the edge of the pool, looking for Malfoy and Zabini. Alex was cradling her arms over her body, looking uncomfortable.
"So, how are you feeling?" Harry asked, looking sideways at her wan face. The lingering paleness was only more apparent with her dreadlocks pulled back in a thick, dripping mass in her neck, leaving her face bare. Her skin looked a bit stretched, her cheeks hollow. It made Harry want to turn around, deposit her on a chair, tuck her in with towels and feed her his lunch.
Alex jerked one shoulder, "Stomach's still acting a bit dodgy. Other than that, I'm fine."
"You're a bit skinny," Harry pointed out, looking at her ribs and knobby shoulders.
"Bit rich coming from you," Alex returned easily, smiling a bit. Coming to a halt at the edge of the pool and sitting down, she dipped her legs in the water. "Oi, Blaise!"
Treading water, Blaise turned around and looked up at them. "Hello Potter," he said calmly. His hair was surprisingly long wet. It looped randomly around his face, ending low in a curling mass in the nape of his neck.
"Hullo," Harry said, blinking against the general blurriness of the world without anything to aid his eyes. Zabini was just a bit too far to clearly make out his expression. Then again, Zabini could hold up a perfectly blank face with the best of them.
Alex let herself slide in the water and swam over to Blaise, splashing him a little. "Where's Draco?" she asked, green eyes casting around.
Inclining his head, Blaise indicated Harry.
As if on cue, a voice said quite suddenly, so close to Harry's ear he could feel the warm exhale of air waft against his skin, "How about moving any time soon, Potter?" And with that, Draco put a hand between Harry's shoulder-blades and gave him a firm push that sent Harry went pin-wheeling into the pool with a mighty splash.
He came up, drawing in a screaming breath for air. "Are you mad, Malfoy?" he demanded shrilly as Malfoy stood cackling that maniacal laugh of his, dry by the poolside.
The only answer he got was more water crashing over him as Malfoy dived sloppily in the water. He came up a little a ways from them, blinking water out of his eyes. "Lost your little friends?" he asked a bit snidely. His blonde tresses, heavy with water, brushed the tip of his sharp nose.
Harry narrowed his eyes at him and retorted sweetly, "How's your lip?"
"About as good as your nose," Malfoy answered in his unhurried drawl, "and your neck."
"Children, children!" Blaise exclaimed swimming expertly in between them, "Behave," He flicked water at the both of them. With one last significant look, he began leading them to the main pool through one of the narrow connections.
Glowering, Harry followed him, wondering if it would really be such a big deal if he just gave in to his heart's desire and drowned Malfoy. His toes touched the bottom and he stood back up again, wading in water that soon only reached up to the elastic of his swimming shorts. Malfoy's white blonde hair touched the top of his spine wet, smoothly slicked back against his skull. And despite having just had a fantasy murdering him, Harry found his brain warping the drowning scene into something much more... intense in a not-so deadly way. Especially since the wading was causing Malfoy's backside and whole lower body to work against the friction of the water. Even being as thin as he was, Malfoy's body was toned and strong, and he carried himself as if the world should be glad he had graced it with his presence. That alone, even with all the tiny imperfections, made him somehow impossibly irresistible to Harry.
They reached the main pool, where the rest of their friends already were caught up in various activities. Neville stood to the side, looking uncomfortable and a bit dejected. Most of their clique were either slim and lean, or -mainly in Finbar's occasion- nicely toned. Neville, well, he was a bit chubby. And it didn't help that some fifth and sixth year girls glanced furtively at him and began giggling. Worse still were the boys who muttered none too subtly 'pig' and 'fatty' when they passed him.
Harry, who liked Neville well enough, even though the latter was in a constant state of fretfulness, felt his righteous rage come up around him like a cloak. Abandoning the others, he floated over and asked Neville whether he to join him in tossing the ball around. He glared at the other kids through his black tresses as menacingly as he could.
Soon they were joined by Seamus and Darragh, and making up the rules as they went along, they paired up and began smacking the ball at each other as hard as possible. They cheered Neville on when he accidentally hit Malfoy on the back of the head, which caused the blonde to snort water up through his nose.
"Want a set of bite marks on the other side of your neck to match the first?" He snarled at Harry, knowing that Harry was the one to setup the game in the first place, coughing water.
Harry glowered back at him, unable to form a witty comeback.
Darragh came up with one for him, though upon retrospect Harry rather wished he'd kept his mouth shut. "Just admit that Harry's tasty, Draco. Clearly you can't get enough of him."
Malfoy made a sound like a dying fish, tried to sneer at them, and spluttered some more. Eventually he made a sound like 'arugh' and waded away as fast as possible. Which wasn't fast at all.
"Rendered him speechless, you did," Neville said. "That's a first."
"I can outthink him any day," Darragh said with a smirk. Winking at Harry he smacked the ball back up in the air.
Soon after they began playing again, the speakers chimed the familiar tune that hailed the stimulation of waves in the main pool. Everybody stopped what they were doing and got out or tried to find a better spot. Harry and Ron quickly swam to the deep end, where the waves became highest. As they arrived, Harry saw how Hermione watched their approach with a stony face before pointedly swimming in the opposite direction. Ron watched her go with a wretched expression.
The first small waves began lapping at their torsos as the waves began. Despite his better judgment, Harry asked, "Want to talk about it?"
Ron blinked at him as if from coming far away. "What?" he asked.
"Want to talk about it?" Harry asked again, hoping he had a stroke of geniality and manage to give good feedback.
"Oh," Ron said, looking awkward. "Well, I don't know." He stared in Hermione's direction again. "You know, I think I did something wrong, but I'm not sure what."
"Er," Harry said intelligently, "maybe you should ask her."
Ron rubbed at his nose to avoid meeting Harry's eyes. "I think she'll be even angrier when she finds out I haven't got a clue what went wrong."
"Ah, eh, well, that's a bit of a problem then," Harry conceded, faltering.
There was a slight pause before they met each other's gaze and spontaneously burst out laughing.
"Oh hell, I'm sorry," Harry gasped. "I really am rubbish at this sort of conversations."
Shaking his head, Ron retorted with a broad grin, "That's alright, it was funny while it lasted."
They laughed a bit more as the waves grew stronger, carrying them upwards with each cadence. At one point, Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein crashed into them as they were pulled towards them with an incoming wave. Harry had to hold mightily onto the side support to avoid getting a mouthful of water. When they finally managed to untangle themselves and were left alone -Terry smiled apologetically at Harry before he left- it was Ron's turn to look ill at ease.
"So, are you okay?"
Frantically, Harry tried to recall whether he'd been staring at Malfoy when Ron could have seen. "Uhm, I-I think so, why?" he said not so smoothly.
"With the whole school, knowing, well it." He stressed the last significantly.
"Oh," Harry felt the cold in his insides vaporize with his imminent relief, "Oh, that. No, no problem at all."
"That's good then," Ron said, obviously relieved to avoid a heart-to-heart conversation about fears and feelings.
They bobbed along on the waves in comfortable silence, grinning a bit when watching how Dean lifted a madly squealing Parvati above his head and threw her into the water.
--
Meanwhile Alex and Blaise were laughing so hard they were tears involved. Draco knew he shouldn't have told them about the incident that had just occurred. It made him feel mortified for reasons he couldn't even begin to explain.
Draco was casting venomous glances all around. "I don't think it was amusing." He muttered. "Darragh needs a good talking to, he does. Doesn't think straight that boy." He looked imploringly at Blaise, who was, after all, the little cretin's cousin. Maybe he could talk some sense into him. And convince him to keep his great big mouth from uttering such preposterous blasphemy.
"Yes, continue to laugh with my pain. First the barbarians nearly murder me and you laugh, the whole school is plotting against me, you laugh, your cousin begins uttering nonsense on my behalf and still, you laugh! I think my suffering merits some consolation here," he told them in an aggrieved manner.
But then Alex' coughing transformed into a bout of more horrible coughing and Draco quite forgot to wallow in his humiliation. He led her away to the outdoor pool in hopes that the air was a bit easier on her there. They ducked under the plastic flaps that formed the barrier to keep out most of the cold draft and inhaled the very welcome fresh air. As hacking dwindled to gasping and eventually to just laborious breathing, Draco asked softly, "Have you told him?" and flicked his eyes significantly to Blaise.
Just as she began to shake her head in denial, Blaise turned to them with an unnerving expression on his face. "Told me what?" He looked strange with his permanent tan stark against the blue pool while the rain persisted in drizzling softly. Wind blasted his wet curls in all directions.
Alex gave Draco a betrayed look, who shrugged his shoulders in mute apology. Clearly she'd wanted to keep the whole orphanage thing between the two of them. It wasn't his fault that Blaise possessed supernatural hearing.
Looking cornered, Alex began hesitantly, almost defensively. "I didn't want to tell you because you'd throw a fit..." she mumbled wringing her hands.
Blaise's eyes narrowed even more, looking suspiciously from Draco to Alex and back. "Well, what then?" he demanded, voice brittle.
Giving Draco an accusing look again, she began in a soft voice, "Well, with Gloves gone and more children having moved in, the orphanage needs more space and they've askedmetoleave." The last words came out in a rush as if to avoid the impending disastrous results she knew they were going to have.
"WHAT?" Blaise yelled, causing several heads to snap around to him at once. It seemed he himself was startled by this outburst and he took a few deep calming breaths. "They asked you to leave?" He resumed in a dangerous sort of calm voice.
"Not immediately, of course," Alex hastened to correct. "But by Christmas."
"By Christmas," Blaise said, eyes bright in a wicked sort of way. "Oh, that's so nice of them. That gives you exactly two months. How generous of them, my opinion of those morons skyrockets! And such timing too; Christmas, time of family and benevolence. 'Happy Christmas, dear, don't mind the snow, it's not as cold as it looks!'. How can they- the incorrigible stupidity of some people! They should feed them to the reindeer's young! Not to mention-"
Draco was acutely reminded why Blaise and he got along in the first place.
Alex was frantic, "Oh please, Blaise, don't!" she pleaded, tugging at his arm, "I've lived off their kindness long enough-"
"DON'T," Blaise said sharply, "don't start talking that way as if it's nothing. You do deserve to live without worrying every step of the way."
"I-I-" Alex faltered, looking at Draco for support.
"He's right you know," the blonde said simply. "Don't look at me like that," he added.
The three of them stood there breathing laboriously in the outdoor air. Alex was almost completely shrouded by the mist that drifted up from the warm water. She looked small and miserable. Blaise got that peculiar look on his face again, as if he had a severe stomach ache, and proceeded in a more reasonable tone, "Where are you going to go?"
Alex made a movement that might have been a shrug if she hadn't been hugging herself. "Don't know yet. But in the worst case I might ask Rufus if I can stay over for a bit, just until, until-"
"-you've found a place to stay." Blaise finished softly for her, "You know, you can always-"
"No!" Alex stopped him, "I won't! Don't ask! I won't risk our- our- because of-"
"Shut up and listen," Blaise said sourly. "I'm not telling to come and live with us but for once, be practical; if you can't find anything, you'll stay with us until you've found a place to stay. No, keep quiet. Promise me, Alex. Promise me you're not going to do something stupid and that in the worst case you'll stay with us until you've found something. Promise."
"I-I," she spluttered, looking at the ever-moving surface, her own reflection pulling faces at her, "I'm not sure I-"
"Please,"
"I'll think about it, okay?" And with that she began swimming away from them.
Blaise watched he go, making wringing motions with his hands. Draco prepared for another outburst.
He was not disappointed.
"For the love of God! Can that stupid girl be anymore stubborn?" Blaise exploded. "We should chain her to the wall and keep twenty-four seven surveillance on her because her own idiocy will be her undoing, mark my words! Even gerbils transcend her reasonability! What is she going to do? Sleep in the snow? I'm telling you she's a stickler for playing the self-righteous martyr and it's driving me insane!"
"I can tell," Draco replied dryly.
"Argh!" Blaise seemed to have given in to gibberish now. He hit the water violently with both fists as if by doing so he would be able to release himself of his anger.
"Okay, crazy man, enough of that. No more pool water for you," Draco soothed, taking his shoulder and steering him to a more private corner of the pool, away from prying eyes.
All the energy seemed to rush out of Blaise and he let himself be directed docilely. "How can you make jokes about something like this?" He asked, glaring at Draco.
"Stop over-dramatizing the situation, Zabini," said Draco, a bit annoyed. "It's not the end of the world. She's a strong girl, though so stubborn it borders on stupidity, true, but she'll find a place. There's Rufus, and there's you. It's not like we'll let her do something stupid. And if the worst comes about, we'll simply lock her away in a basement for her own good. There are possibilities."
Blaise smiled reluctantly at him. In fact it was more of a rather frightening grimace, but it would do.
Slowly but surely, balance was going to be restored to his world. Draco felt himself able to breathe a little easier. They would work it out.
And then Blaise went ahead and smashed it all apart by saying;
"I think I'm in love with her."
Draco felt his stomach drop to the bottom of the pool. With a look of abject horror, he turned to look at his friend. Clearing his throat with difficulty, he asked almost politely, "Excuse me?"
"You heard what I said," Blaise whispered, looking inexplicably angry.
"No," Draco said. He began shaking his head.
"Yes."
"No, no, no!" Draco snarled at him angrily, face transforming into a grotesque mask, one filled with fury. "Don't you dare- dare ruin everything now! Can't you be bloody satisfied with how it is now? How can do something as egoistically stupid as thinking you like her? Dammit, Blaise!"
The expression on Blaise's face made him feel torturous and Draco knew he should get away, right this instant, before he said something he would regret later. Even now, with his emotions bubbling up and stifling him, he had the sense to avoid reenacting another brawl, with his closest friend this time. It would permanently damage something between them if he goaded Blaise into punching him. It took every bit of restraint he had to keep from spouting copious amounts of foul commentary on his friend's behalf. "I can't- I-" he threw Blaise a tormented look, "I'm going!" And he did just that.
--
"Gather around a bit more closely," hollered Professor Sinistra, who didn't look all that bad in her black bathing suit, even if she was close to forty. "Right, that's better. Now we're going to do a small competition. Find a partner and make sure that you both can lift the other of the ground. Found one? Perfect. Now, we're going to do a bit of wrestling. But, to make it extra difficult, you will be sitting on your partner's shoulders, as will your opponent and will attempt to push the other into the water. Got that?"
Giggles and annoyed muttering were heard all over.
Harry was one of those that muttered, for he found this more than a bit lame. It was a situation bound to lead to humiliation on his part. Besides, what were they getting at? Sitting almost naked on a person's shoulders who was almost as naked as you. That ensured an awful lot of bare skin touching bare skin. Harry shuddered convulsively as he thought of Gregory Goyle and edged over to Ron.
"Now first try and lift your partner up onto your shoulders!"
Soon enough Harry and Ron discovered they had a problem. While Ron could lift Harry, Harry couldn't lift Ron. Ron was so ridiculously tall he inevitably disturbed the balance and send Harry toppling backwards. They got as far as Ron sitting on Harry's shoulders, but when he straightened up it took but five seconds for them to fall over and crash into the water. When Ron accidentally took a chunk of Harry's hair during their latest attempt, they gave up.
Sinistra came over and set about to pairing them up with someone more suitable. Harry rubbed his head where the hair was now noticeably shorter. Soon enough Ron was paired with Seamus, both of them tall and lanky. Harry sensed impending disaster and felt a strange mix between relief and disappointment when he spotted Draco parading around Justin Finch-Fletchley on his shoulders.
"Is there anyone who would like to pair up with Mister Potter here?" Sinistra queried in her loud voice.
And as they were supposed to be same-sex pairings, nobody volunteered. Probably afraid that his sexual preference was contractible or that as a raging homosexual sex fiend he wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself. Right now, he hated school. Hoping that he would just be allowed to sit to the side, Harry tried to slink away.
"I don't mind," someone spoke up unexpectedly.
Partly happy that there was at least someone who knew better than running along with the clichés, Harry walked towards his partner.
"Hi," Terry Boot said, smiling a bit crookedly.
"Er," Harry said, awkward. "Hi. So, I suppose we'll try this?"
On their third try, Terry managed to keep Harry on his shoulders without swallowing a mouthful of water. Harry was enormously uncomfortable. Terry wasn't Ron and touching someone wearing nothing but swimming trunks unnerved Harry immensely. For once he would've appreciated getting a girl as his partner. Never mind the giggling.
"Okay," Harry said when he was safely put on his own feet. Now it was his turn to attempt and hoist Terry up. "Try not to lean backwards too much," he advised. Letting himself sink under the water, he felt for Terry's calves, swam between them and braced himself. His head came through the surface with a gasp. In an instant Terry's legs tightened around his ribcage with surprising strength as he tried to keep himself upright.
"Ow! Terry! Terry! Don't squeeze that hard!" he exclaimed, voice strangled.
"Sorry!" Terry slackened his killing grip with his thighs and Harry found himself able to breathe again. "Okay, we're standing." Terry ventured, putting his hands prudently on the top of Harry's head. Both of them were about the same built and height and Harry found he could keep Terry up with relative ease.
Everybody paired up with a suitable partner, Sinistra began orchestrating them into small matches, girls against girls and boys against boys. Very likely this was to avoid wandering hands and resulting dramas.
Watching people try and yank each other into the water proved to be excellent entertainment. The girls, especially, made an art of it and received catcalls. Boys tended to keep it brief and to the point, going straight for the offense with brute strength to aid them.
They were all taken aback when it was Draco and Justin versus Blaise and Darragh. The two friends were carriers this round and while Justin and Darragh tried to pull each other off with a generous amount of laughter, Draco and Blaise pitted their strength against each other rather viciously. They didn't fight exactly, but they weren't being nice either. Harry was quite sure that they shouldn't be using their elbows to jab each other in all the vulnerable spots.
"What are you two doing?" Alex exclaimed roughly, after Darragh had overpowered Justin and Draco and Blaise stood breathing hard at each other, "Are you two mental?"
Draco withered at her, one matched by Blaise. Both expressions clearly said 'and what are you going to do about it?' Draco's lip was bleeding again.
"Have you two been fighting?" She demanded shrewdly. "Answer me!" Both boys maintained their stony silence. "Gah! Fine!" She spat and stomped off, water foaming in her wake, leaving the two of them to stew.
Harry pondered over this exchange, wondering what would've put the three of them in such a state of animosity. Malfoy looked wretched when Zabini shot him a murderous glare and then pointedly turned his back on him. But he had to push it to the back of his head when he and Terry were up against Stephen Cornfoot and Theodore Nott.
The both of them didn't do to bad, actually. Especially when Terry was the one on Harry's shoulders; he had a sneaky way of tickling people into submission. Harry thought that was rather clever since neither of them were that physically impressive. This was probably why they were so easily defeated by Finbar and Cormac McLaggen.
Now there was an unholy alliance. McLaggen kept shouting advice to Finbar, not concentrating on what he was supposed to do and Finbar eventually resorted to using McLaggen as a human baseball bat to knock Terry of Harry's shoulders.
"God Terry, are you okay?" Finbar asked worriedly, lifting him bodily out of the water.
Spluttering water, Terry managed to nod, clutching his ribs.
Harry himself had gotten McLaggen's elbow in the throat and had trouble swallowing. Still coughing a little himself, Terry asked him anxiously, "Okay, Harry?" Giving Terry a bleary thumbs-up, Harry continued attempting to swallow past the painful sensation. "Ah, alright then. Er. It was-it was nice being your partner." Terry said softly.
Making a motion that might have signaled agreement, Harry wondered why Terry was looking so peculiarly at him. What did he want? For Harry to be eternally happy to Terry for braving his predatorily homosexual lustful assaults? "Yeah," he managed to wheeze and was a bit relieved to see him walk over to Anthony Goldstein.
After that there was volleyball, for which Harry felt he could breathe a little easier now that he was not required to touch other people (who were nearly naked) against his will. He liked his personal space, thank you very much. Besides, Harry was much better at ball sports. Every game Ron and he played together was rewarded with victory. Most of the early afternoon was spend playing games and sports and by the time they got a pause, Harry was ravenous.
"Had a good time with McLaggen?" Ron asked Finbar, grinning around a mouthful of marmalade sandwich.
"Don't even mention it," Finbar warned him, glowering. Then he turned to Harry, "Sorry 'bout that, actually. I had no idea it would have such an impact."
Harry swallowed a bite of apple and said, still a bit hoarse, "You nearly threw McLaggen at us, what did you expect?"
Sheepish, Finbar smiled apologetically at him. It seemed he was one of those people who tanned nicely in the summer and went almost white in the winter. His dark hair and dark tribal set his pallor in even more so. He'd have looked positively menacing if he didn't smile all the time.
"Looked cool, though," Darragh commented "Didn't look all that confident when he went flying. But you really did nearly murder Terry."
"Say," Dean spoke up, sharing his plastic seat with Parvati, "How come you got Blaise?"
Looking uncomfortable, Darragh retorted evasively, "He's my cousin, after all, so it's not that odd."
"Draco and Blaise had fight," Parvati put in. "Padma heard them yelling in the outdoor pool. Didn't catch what it was about, though."
"I'm sure it was none of your business," Darragh said defensively, apparently set on offering his cousin what protection he could.
Sniffing at Darragh's frank opinion, Parvati turned and continued to feed Dean her tongue for lunch.
Rolling eyes at each other, Harry and Ron set off to get a can of soda out of the vending machine. Harry put on his jumper as goose-bumps erupted all over his skin. Ron wrapped himself in a towel so it looked as if he were a flashy imitation of Batman. They padded around the poolside barefooted before Ron said, "I don't really like Parvati."
Harry grinned, "You don't? I could swear that her lack of charming personality wasn't what stumped you earlier."
Ron swiped at him, "Oh shut up. So she's hot, but she's awfully-"
"Annoying? Nosy? With no sense of privacy?"
"Yeah, all that and more." He said darkly. Harry knew what he meant; Parvati had a knack for turning a comfortable conversation into something awkward, like just now. She didn't seem to grasp the fact that boys did not try and invade something that touched upon the more sensitive of emotions. When a bloke had a problem you either let him sort it out yourself or wait for him to tell you. Then you really had to be comfortable with each other so you might ask in a roundabout way whether there was something you could do to help out.
"Do you think Dean is. er. serious about her?" Harry wondered in a hushed tone.
Ron snickered, "About getting into that tiny bikini of hers maybe. It's not like they've been exactly close before. Besides, I know that she has a strong dislike for Seamus and he's Dean closest mate, so it won't take very long for the bomb to burst, I'd say. A few months, tops."
What went unspoken was that they already felt the difference in Seamus' behavior, who was a bit at loss now that his best friend took to frantic displays of snogging in public.
By-going Seamus' obvious hurt, Harry said, "Maybe we should look for a girlfriend for Seamus, too. Padma, maybe; she looks like she could use some love."
"A good meal, is more like it. The hungry expression with which she stares at Zabini gives me nightmares, if you ask me," Ron said pulling a face as if he'd tasted something vulgar.
"Hmm, you're right. And Seamus is all skin and bones, so that won't do." he pretended to think very earnestly. "We could feed McLaggen to Padma. Nobody'll miss him."
"Now that is a solution," Ron said, marveling at the brilliance of this plan.
Ron inserted his coins into the vending machine and fished a can of lemonade out of the deposit just as Malfoy came sauntering towards them. He was counting coins on the palm of his hand, probably for a cup of coffee.
"See you," Ron mumbled and rushed away before Malfoy could make any more inquiries about the stagnant state of his relationship.
Yes, thank you, Ron, Harry though as he was now left alone with the blonde prat. And he'd done such a marvelous job of avoiding being alone with him.
Malfoy looked up and physically jumped when he saw Harry standing there, contemplating the choice of beverages. There was a tense silence and instead of pretending that he couldn't see Harry, Malfoy rounded on him and gave him a very obvious look up and down. Harry fidgeted and continued to stare ahead as if he were blind at the right side.
"Nice jumper, Potter," Malfoy said, a smirk chasing around his mouth.
"What," Harry said, "What do you- oh. Oh no." He croaked, realizing what Malfoy was getting at. He was wearing that jumper. Malfoy's jumper.
"Oh yes," Malfoy said, a wicked grin on his face Harry wished to beat off once more. "So happy to see you wearing something that does not instantly make people want to throw themselves under the next passing vehicle."
Harry glowered at the illuminated buttons. "You want it back?" he ground out with great difficulty. It was either that, or hit him again.
Waving a hand, Malfoy loftily said, "No, you can keep it. I don't mind donating something for the needy every once and now. Besides, you are obviously struggling with stalker tendencies. Clearly they are outing themselves in two manners; one in which you fulfill these urges with violent acts upon my person and the other by hoarding personal items of mine in which you probably roll around in when nobody can see you. But that's alright. You're not the first unable to withstand my manly glory."
Staring at him slack-jawed, Harry said carefully, as if to avoid inspiring him into more odd gibberish, "You're weird, Malfoy."
Lifting his eyebrows haughtily, Malfoy said, "It's not my fault you've never been able to comprehend me due to your tiny, undeveloped brain."
"Thank God for that," Harry muttered, "Besides, manly glory? You're about as manly as Colin Creevely-"
"Careful Potter, you should not finish that sentence," Malfoy said, eyes flashing, "Otherwise prepare for pain. Bah, Creevely. Hate hate hate."
Harry shook his head and pushed the button for apple juice.
"Kid should be allowed out in anything but swimming trunks," Malfoy went on and proceeded with a surprisingly good impression of Colin playing volleyball and subsequently losing his trunks in the process.
Entirely against his own will, Harry's mouth twitched. He was therefore altogether pleased when Malfoy gulped down his coffee too fast and ended up howling in pain.
Nevertheless, when he walked back to his friends, he was still smiling.
--
It was almost time for them to leave when Harry found himself in the company of Hermione and Ginny in the jacuzzi. Most boys that spotted them gave Harry a look of deepest resentment. Unfair that the queer kid got to sit in the hot tubs with two of the female sort. Harry didn't think himself so enviable at the moment; the conversation was deeply unsettling him.
"It's unbelievable how Dean has let himself by hoodwinked by that vile hussy-" Ginny was ranting in outrage.
Harry felt he should at least say something. "They seem to like each other."
"Of course he does! With her wriggling around in his lap as if she's eaten a whole bowl of worms! She's just using him because she can't have Roger Davies." Ginny growled savagely. "She knows she's pretty and happily goes about rubbing herself against the first hapless male victim like a cat in heat!"
He might not be very fond of Parvati, but surely she wasn't that bad. Tentatively Harry said, "I don't think she's using Dean really, they-"
Ginny rounded on him and Harry resisted the urge to dive behind Hermione, "Oh, of course you're protecting her, too. She's been doing her slinky little moves on your lap-"
"Ginny, calm down!" Harry implored, raising his voice, covering his ears to avoid hearing more obscenities which filled his head with disturbing images.
Tirade halted, Ginny flushed pink all the way to her ears. Sliding deeper into the water, she bit her lip and avoided looking at all of them.
"So it's like, er," Harry glanced at Hermione, hoping for clues, "so it's like that, is it?"
"No!" Ginny snapped, springing up again and sending a small tsunami over Harry. "I'm sure I don't care at all. She can have him! Bah." She slunk down again, only the top of her red hair visible through the bubbles.
You'd think that redheads and their supposed violate tempers were a cliché, but Ginny was bearing shining tribute to it.
"She'll tire of him soon enough," Hermione said consolingly, "For all her looks, Parvati isn't quite Dean's type, I reckon. A bit of a feather-head, really." She disapproved of the fluffy pink flamingo pen Parvati used in math class and the furtive giggling that carried all the way to the front.
Profoundly confused, Harry wondered if all girls' conversations were like this; behind the subject's back, laden with gossip and ten times as worse then what boys usually said to one other face to face. And did they have to be so frank? He never wanted to find out what they were saying about him when he wasn't around to hear it. Ignorance was definitely bliss.
With Ginny fuming in silence and glaring at the object of her wrath who happened to mince by, Hermione turned to Harry. "I saw how Finbar beat you by throwing McLaggen around. It was sort of funny to see him fly and bowl the both of you over."
"Didn't feel very funny to me," Harry mumbled, touching his throat. "I saw my whole life flashing past my eyes."
"I'm sure," Hermione said with an indulgent smile.
The bubbles ended and the three of them got out. Harry was about to carry on to the slides again when he gave in to an impulse and asked, "Hermione, can't you-"
"NO!" said Hermione and stormed away.
Ginny gave Harry a wry and apologetic look and hurried after.
Women, Harry thought exasperated, how were they ever supposed to understand what they wanted? With their incomprehensible needs and complex behavior. Still a bit flustered, Harry took the first steps down into one of the smaller pools. It was virtually abandoned as the waves were active in the main pool again. A shiver ran up and down his spine as the water was considerably colder than that of the jacuzzi.
Following the curve of the narrow way, which mouthed into a bath with herbal scents, Harry passed under a bridge. At the other side, sitting on the edge with his lower legs submerged, was Terry Boot. Alone. There was a frown on his face as if his thoughts were presenting him with and unsolvable riddle. When he saw Harry approaching he went considerably paler, but slipped into the water.
"Harry," Terry said.
"Er,Terry," Harry returned suspiciously, but continued on, "you alright? Or did McLaggen hit you a bit too hard?"
"I'm fine," he said and glanced up at him. Terry Boot was the kind of boy who looked 'pretty' instead of handsome. He had angelic blonde curling hair and big blue eyes.
"Eh, okay then," Harry said, a bit worried and made to walk on. The water wasn't getting any warmer so he needed to move.
He had just passed Terry when the latter spoke up again, "Harry, wait-"
"What-" Harry began, but started with a shock that hit the inside of his belly as he found Terry rather close to him. Big blue eyes boring into his, he stepped back and hit the cold tiles of the side.
"I need to tell you something," Terry said softly.
"What-" Harry said again, frantic, but he was cut of by Terry's soft, warm lips on his. Harry froze, hands still up in a warding motion, but suddenly unable to do anything at all. Terry's hands were in his hair, gentle and tender. They slid down, cupping Harry's face.
Then he pulled back and produced a shaky smile. "I'd never though you'd... But then last week, I was- I was so relieved." He let out a little laugh, looking at Harry with an awed expression.
Harry was vaguely surprised the water around him hadn't stared boiling by now. He still stood there, hands up in the air, unable to breathe. He should say something.
"I hoped," Terry said, strained, "I'd hoped that'd you'd-" he faltered.
Dear God, he should really say something now. He saw how Terry's glowing expression changed. How he closed his eyes as if in pain. He should do something soon now, but no answers came to Harry and he felt his own eyes widen in panic.
"But you don't," Terry said hoarsely, stepping back, "You don't. Oh, fuck."
"I'm sorry," Harry managed. And how terrible inadequate it sounded. He began backing away and momentarily hated himself for his cowardice as he struggled through the water back the way he came as fast as he could.
--
Draco strode about on his own, wracking his brain on what to do about Blaise and Alex and his Father and everything, leaving him deeply frustrated and feeling resentful. Resentful to his Father for making him do this, to Alex for being ridiculous, and to Blaise for deciding today, of all days, to fall from grace.
But Blaise, why, oh why now? After all this time? Didn't he see that he was about to shatter the friendship they had? Shatter it and bond with Alex in a manner so Draco would never be able to belong again. In one stroke he'd take away not only her, but himself, too, as Draco's best and only mate. He failed to dredge up even one shred of happiness for the two of them and was ineffective in discovering answers.
For now he could not see beyond his own pain and fear and the underlying knowledge that he was going to be alone soon once more. And now he knew that there was no way he could stop it, for he'd seen the look in Blaise's eyes, a desperate, wild look. He'd seen it coming, but had shielded himself from acknowledging it, Alex's blushes every time Blaise touched her, and the fierce look on Blaise's face when he watched her. He knew he must salvage it by apologizing to his friend soon, but just for today, he would like to be angry and hurt.
So there he was, brooding, minding his own business, when for the umpteenth he was barreled over by Harry Potter. He had come to recognize Potter's style of colliding with him by the sheer force of impact and how Potter's forehead always banged against his nose. They both went down, Draco on one knee, but Potter slipped, fell on his side with a sickening thump, and rolled into the pool with a resounding splash.
Draco was on his feet and in the pool before his mind caught up with the situation. He fished for Potter's arm and pulled him up. "Are you alright?" He demanded.
Potter responded to his heroic act by coughing water into his face.
Releasing him, Draco exclaimed, vexed, "For once, Potter, try to get it into your stupid fat head! You can't run around like a beheaded chicken! What's wrong with you!?"
"Terebokime!" He spluttered, looking around maniacally.
"Teboki-what?" Draco repeated.
"TerryBootkissedme! Oh shit!" he buried his face in his hands. He swore again and peered at Draco through his fingers as if he could not believe that he had just said this, to Draco Malfoy, of all people. "Shit, shit, shit!"
Frowning, Draco tried to decipher this cryptic message of insanity. He felt himself become a bit unhinged as the meaning became clear to him. "What?"
Potter proceeded to look miserable and contemplated drowning in the pool.
"Boot," Draco echoed in a voice that was just at tad too high. "Boot kissed you. Terry Boot? Curly blonde haired Boot? Him?"
Potter nodded, hiding his face in his hands again.
"Where? Where is he?" he breathed, thinking about blood. "Where?"
"I-I er," Potter muttered, flapping his hand vaguely in the direction he'd come from. "I ran away."
"Boot kissed-" Draco halted. "You ran away?"
Again, a miserable jerk of his head.
And just like that he was overcome with mad, gleeful cackling. Potter had the bearing to look indignant.
"It's not funny!" he said gruffly.
"H-how very tactful, Potter!" Draco managed between laughter. "D-do you re-reckon he got the message?"
Blushing now, Potter said, "Stop laughing. He looked really sad."
"NO?" Draco exclaimed. "Maybe because, let me see, you ran away?"
"Oh shit, shit," Potter was saying again. "It was- he just sort of grabbed me all of a sudden -stop laughing, Malfoy- I was startled!"
But Draco had to laugh so hard at the word 'grabbed' that he was unable to speak for quite a while. "Grab-grab-" he hiccoughed. Not sure why he seemed to have to keep laughing besides being quite certain something bad would happen otherwise, Draco continued on with his hysterical cackling until he lacked the breath to do so anymore.
"If you're going to be a bastard about this, Malfoy-" Potter had his arms crossed defensively over his chest, "I swear- I swear! And please don't tell anyone! Shit, I can't believe I told you! You! Oh God." He resorted to pulling at his hair.
"Not tell? Not tell? Anyone?" Draco asked, aghast. "But this too good not to-" seeing the look on Potter's face, one that did not bode well, he dwindled to a stop.
Only to come up with; "Hahah, so, ha, was he a good kisser?" With Potter's outraged expression he began laughing yet again, getting a stitch in his side that made it a rather painful sensation.
"Oh, do us all a favor and just drown yourself!" Potter said, glaring. But then he smiled a bit and continued, "Besides I was too busy panicking to really enjoy it."
"Sure you were," Draco said skeptically. "What did he say?"
Potter looked red and desperately uncomfortable, his black hair a right mess, green eyes wide, and Christmas had certainly come early for Draco. "Something like 'I need to tell you something' and grabbing and kissing and let us never, ever speak of this again!"
"Don't count on it," Draco warned, making a quiet sound of glee, "But as I am gentlemen before all the rest, I'll behave. For now."
"Like I'd believe that"
"Oh, Potter, you know you'd rather have me bad." His laughter coming with renewed vigor.
"I rather have you being a good b- Bloody hell, Malfoy shut up!" Harry croaked, catching himself just in time before he could finish that disastrous sentence.
Malfoy continued cackling to himself, even when the speakers announced 'if all the Hogwarts students would please proceed to the changing cubicles, thank you.' The two of them were slow getting out of the pool and ended up walking back together, nearly the last to leave the pool.
And with his track-record of being quite the unluckiest person alive, the both of them passed Terry in the hallway where he was taking his possessions out of the locker.
"Hello Boot!" Malfoy announced brightly, beaming in that maniacal way of his.
Terry watched him with narrowed eyes. "Hi." He said morosely.
Harry ran along, matching his paces with Malfoy's to hide from view. Turning down the next corridor, Harry hissed, "I hate you Malfoy. I hate you and I hate your face."
"That's stings, Potter - right here." Malfoy patted the left side of his chest. Sliding his key into the lock of his steel cabinet, he said, in a sleek, careless sort of way, "Besides, you're no fun."
Giving him a frown, Harry said, "How could you know? Maybe you should reserve that judgment after you've spent enough time around me to validate that opinion. I'm loads of fun. Tons, really."
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw how Malfoy's lips curved up into something that was almost a smile. "Tell you what," he said. "I'll let you know."
Chapter title credits go to Coldplay.
All hail Jules, she who has had to face my typos! Brave girl.
Sort of transitory a chapter. But, this is the one that'll slowly start a chain of events. Expect the next chapter soon; and it'll be one that most of you'll really like.
Keep reviewing, sweets, those on the last chapter were amazing. Thanks so much.