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Warning for a slight bit out of character due to the pairing and tropes used. Word count is 1,805 words. I hope you all enjoy Bad Day to Good Night.
There was no way that the start of this could get any worse than it already had been. That was my first thought as I looked in shocked horror at the glass that was spread across the floor of the flat that I shared with my current boyfriend and best mate, Ron.
"What's going on?" Ron muttered, sitting up in our shared bed.
"Nothing, Ron," I said, trapezing through the pieces of glass to get a broom to clean it up with. "Just a bit of an accident with the mirror is all."
"That's bad luck, that is," he murmured, rolling over and going back to sleep for the small amount of time that was left on our alarm clock. "7 years."
I didn't believe in that. You couldn't get 7 years of bad luck just from breaking a mirror or the Durselys would have more than 7 years combined. Or at least I didn't believe in that superstition until today that is.
After I finished cleaning the broken glass from the mirror I walked into the bathroom and took a quick shower. I shaved and brushed my teeth and hair. This is when I noticed the stray strand of gray that was in my mane of black hair.
Now I'm not one to be too concerned with my looks. I'm not a vain man who has to have everything perfect. But for Merlin's sake, I was only in my early twenties and already I have gray hair in my head. I let out a groan of annoyance and tried to figure out what to do. It was after all only one gray hair. Plus I had heard that if you pulled one out twenty would grow in to replace that one. I didn't want that to happen. No way. No how.
"What are you looking at?" Ron asked, shuffling into the bath. The alarm must have just gone off and woken him up.
"I just found a gray hair," I said, poking at the offending hair in an accusing way. "Do you think I should pull it?"
"Don't," Ron said, turning me towards and catching sight of the offending gray. "You don't want it to regrow ten-fold, do you?"
"Of course not."
Ron padded over to the shower and turned the water on. He always had a knack for turning the water on before he got in. Said he wanted to allow the water to get nice and warm before he got under it. I could hear him shuffling over to the toilet and left him in peace to do his daily routine.
I usually pick out the clothes that I was going to wear the night before and have them set out for the next day on my dresser. But when I looked at the usual spot I place my clothes I only find the tiny terror that is our black kitten, sitting upon the shredded remains of my outfit for the day. At this point, I feel like crying my eyes out. That had been one of my favorite outfits. It was one that Ron had gotten me for our first anniversary together.
Sirius blinks at me and gives a tiny meow of confusion at the tear sparkling in my eyes. I love the tiny kitten that I'd named after my godfather but sometimes he could be the devil in carnet. He got up and ambled over to my hand and bumped his head against it. Almost as though to say, 'hey dad. It's breakfast time. Feed me.'. His baby blue eyes looked at me in an almost pleading manner.
"Alright," I said, scooping him up and giving my ruined clothes one last look. "Let's get you some breakfast, huh?"
"Meow," Sirius replied, looking up at me and purring with delight.
Once the kitten was happily chowing down much the same way that my godfather used to, I was heading up the stairs. I had picked out a new outfit to wear to work today. One that hadn't been shredded by claws.
"I thought you already picked out a set of clothes to wear today," Ron said, coming into the bedroom from the bathroom while toweling off his auburn hair. He caught sight of the clothes that were lying on the dresser top. "Is that the outfit I got you for our…."
"Sirius the Younger decided that he was going sharpen his claws on it," I told him. "I'm sorry, Ron."
"It's just clothes," Ron said, seeing the look on my face. "I can get you another new outfit if you want one."
"But that's not the point, Ron," I said, letting out a frustrated sigh at how much bad luck I seemed to be having in just the first few minutes of the day. "I really wanted to wear that outfit today."
Ron sighed and pulled out his own clothes and dressed. "Maybe that broken mirror is actually going into effect faster than you thought it would?" Ron suggested, laughing that normally I would have gone along with. But this wasn't funny at all.
"Ron, I don't believe in that nonsense," I said, wrangling together another outfit and dressing. I could see him shrugging as we went downstairs to eat breakfast. I walked over to the coffee pot and was just in time to see it start to overflow.
"Harry, don't…."Ron began to say but at this point, all I wanted was to have a cup of coffee and stop the thing from overflowing. Was that too much to ask for?
It must have been because I could feel the liquid scalding my hand as soon it encountered the pale flesh of it. I blinked back tears of pain and frustration as I turned towards the sink. I ran the burn under cold water hoping it wouldn't blister.
"Let me see, Harry," Ron said, holding out his hand gently.
I held out my hand and didn't like the look that I saw on Ron's face when saw it. It was a look that curdled my blood.
"What's wrong?" I asked, following his gaze to my hand and from hand to the coffee pot.
"Did you make sure that you were putting in coffee when you were setting things up last night?" Ron asked, looking back at my hand again. "Warm coffee doesn't leave those sorts of marks."
I walked over and looked next to the coffee pot and could feel the blood drain from my face. How could I have been so stupid? Sitting in the place that was reserved for the coffee was that potion I'd brought home to study from work. We'd found it at a crime scene while helping solve a Muggle crime.
"We need to get you to St. Mungos, Harry," Ron said, moving to grab some gauze from the first aid kit in the kitchen. "We don't know how dangerous that stuff is."
"Must real dangerous if the Muggles need Auror help solving the case," I said, wincing as Ron wrapped my hand. "Could this day get any worse?"
I should not have asked that question. Not today of all days. Because it could get worse and it did. When we reached St. Mungos we had to wait in the waiting room for hours and hours on end. I could feel the burning sting of my injured hand and wanted to curse so bad. It hurt that much that I could feel the tears prickling the back of my eyes. Just begging to be released so that they could run down my face.
"Don't worry, love," Ron said, squeezing my uninjured hand gently. "They'll be seeing us soon. I'm sure of it."
It was almost another hour later that we were called into the office. I looked at my watch and wanted to scream. It was nearing the early afternoon and we were just being seen now. I followed the Healer down the hall to one of the many rooms on the ward.
"To what do we owe the honor, Mr. Potter?" asked the Healer, looking at my bandaged hand as though she didn't know.
"He burned his hand with this," Ron said, holding out the potion upon seeing my jaw working angrily.
The Healer took the potion and nodded as though she knew what it was we were dealing with. Which it turned out that she did. She and the other Healers had been dealing with the injured Muggles and formed a cure for the burns that were formed from being burned with this potion. It was a foul-smelling salve which she gave us a huge container of and sent us home after wrapping my injured hand in bandages drenched with the stuff.
Upon Flooing home, all I wanted to do was lie down and go back to bed. Which I was relieved to see that Ron understood. He told me to rest up and he would get dinner ready for the two of us. I didn't think anything of it and headed up the stairs.
But before I could get to the top landing, I could smell the acrid scent of smoke wafting up on the air. I turned around and raced down the stair, pulling my wand from its holster at my hip with my uninjured hand.
"I've got it," Ron was saying as he grabbed the fire extinguisher that Hermione had given us for a house warming present.
I was about to let a strangled no and tell him to use magic when he squeezed the trigger and the food that had been cooking was doused in flame suppressant.
Ron looked at me sheepishly. "It was supposed to be your favorite," he said, looking down. "Shepherd's Pie."
"Why don't we just go out for dinner tonight, Ron?" I asked, feeling like Atlas with the world on his shoulders. "Or have takeout?"
"Good idea, Harry," he said, picking up the phone. "I'll dial you go get rested up and I'll call when dinner has arrived. How does that sound?"
"That sounds great," I said, making my way up the stairs as Ron placed our usual order at our favorite Chinese restaurant.
I didn't know how long I'd been sleeping for when dinner arrived but I was pleased when nothing seemed to go wrong besides a forgotten egg roll. I looked across the table at Ron who was grinning at me.
"Wanna watch a movie, mate?" he asked, putting the lid on my leftovers and putting them in the fridge. He then continued on to wash the forks and chopsticks that we'd used for our meal too. "You can pick this."
As we headed into the living room for our movie night, I couldn't help but think at least the day was going to have a nice ending. That was all that counted.
I hope you all enjoyed Bad Day to Good Night as much as I enjoyed writing it.