Chapter 4: Broderick the Batty
"Wool-gathering, Potter?" Draco's mocking voice cut through Harry's thoughts. "Or did you finally use up your last brain cell?"
Harry snapped out of his reverie, and stared at the blonde wizard blankly for a moment, before flushing red and turning his attention back to his work. For once, he couldn't think of a comeback, he was so distracted. He tried to do his homework for the rest of detention, with limited success, glancing over at Draco at frequent intervals to see that he looked at his phone every phone minutes, frowning. Whoever he'd been texting with had obviously stopped replying. The thought made Harry a little happier. At least he wasn't the only one having complications with the Muggle Studies homework.
When the detention finally ended, Harry packed up his schoolwork with relief and left quickly, before Malfoy could follow him out of the classroom. He was in no mood for more taunting right now. He had to figure out his reply. He decided not to go back to his dormitory. He didn't want to face anyone else right now. He had to think, he had to focus. He needed the Room of Requirement.
Thankfully, there was nobody around, though it was nearly curfew, and when the door appeared before Harry, he opened it to see a simple, small room, with a low, comfortably overstuffed and somewhat ratty couch, a stack of magazines on a short table, and a gently crackling fireplace. He dropped his bag to the floor and threw himself down onto the couch with relief. He pulled out his phone and read over the last few messages.
'Ok. On my knees before you, I beg you to tell me what ideas you have about us meeting. Please.'
'Say sorry for all the aspersion you've cast on my house.'
'Sorry. For calling Slytherins dirty minded, perverted sluts.'
'That was cheeky. A little too cheeky. But since I, theoretically, have you on your knees…perhaps you could make it up to me in other ways?'
He dropped his head back to rest on the arm of the couch.
"What am I doing?"
"What do you want to do?"
Harry sat bolt upright with a start, eyes wild, already reaching for his wand.
"Who's there?"
A chuckle directed his attention to the portrait on the wall. He hadn't noticed it when he came in. A short, balding wizard with a round, rosy face, and old-fashioned robes was grinning at him, eyes twinkling.
"It is only me! Broderick the Batty. Though my friends call me Roddy!"
"Er…yeah. I'm Harry."
The wizard looked around him. "I must say, I'm surprised to find myself here. Though it does feel good to be needed."
"Needed…" Harry echoed, lamely.
"It's the Room of Requirement, my boy! What do you think I'm here for, decoration?"
"I just needed somewhere to think!"
"And that's going well for you, then? The thinking?"
Harry sat down again. He might as well get advice. The Room of Requirement hadn't failed him before.
"Yes. Sort of. Maybe not. I just don't know what to do!" He ended in frustration. And he launched into the story, starting with the homework assignment, and ending, though he blushed furiously to tell it, with the last message about being on his knees, though there were a few extra minutes taken up in explaining the concept of texting and cell phones to the portrait.
"And I don't know what to do!" He nearly wailed. "I want to reply. It's…I'm enjoying this more than I have anything in ages! But it's going to go wrong. He's a bloke! He's a Slytherin! This is going to end so, so badly. And what if everyone finds out? Can you imagine the articles in the Daily Prophet?! And what if he finds out I'm Harry Potter? All the Slytherins hate me! He'll probably be disgusted. What if he's someone I hate?"
"Whoah!" The wizard held up his hands, palms out. "Slow down there, Harry! It sounds to me like you are imaging only the worst case scenarios!"
"Well, if you knew anything about how my entire life has gone so far…" Harry's tone was bitter.
"And does that mean it has to stay that way? What if, for example, you meet this mystery boy, fall madly in love, and live happily ever after!" He beamed at Harry. Harry stared back at him for a long moment, before answering, flatly.
"Not happening."
"Or, you could always have that illicit meeting, safely disguised, and live with a great memory of having exciting adventures!"
"It would go wrong somehow. It always, always does."
"Then you must be used to it! It must hardly bother you anymore when things go horribly wrong!" The wizard still beamed, a little madly, Harry thought. Like Dumbledore at his most twinkly.
"Yeah, it bothers me. I want something in my life to go right, just once!"
"And as I said before, who says it can't? Is there a rule saying things can't change? Has someone cursed you?"
"Probably."
"Come now, Harry. You make your own destiny! Go out and grab life by the balls and give it a good shake, and tell it who's boss!"
Harry burst out laughing.
"Now. I'm going to just go over there and read by the fire a bit, and you send your electronic owl back to your mystery boy. I'll come back in a bit and see how it's going." With that, Broderick the Batty slipped out of his portrait and reappeared in the portrait of a library near the fireplace.
Harry looked down at his phone, once more rereading the last message.
'That was cheeky. A little too cheeky. But since I, theoretically, have you on your knees…perhaps you could make it up to me in other ways?'
'Sorry I didn't respond earlier. Got carried away with some fascinating homework. You know how it is. So. On my knees, you say? Hmmm…I can think of at least once way I could make it up to you. In fact, I might just have to keep insulting Slytherins, just to find more ways to apologize.' He sent the message. It wasn't exactly explicit, but then, he wasn't exactly experienced. And he didn't want to say something stupid and give that away. The response was fast.
'Thought I'd scared you off again. I'm glad I didn't. And you can insult me all you want if that means I get you on your knees before me as a result. Or in a few other positions I can think of.'
Heat shot to Harry's groin and he tipped his back to rest on the arm of the couch for a moment, before responding.
'Do tell.'
'I could tell you. But I'd rather show you. I'm serious. Let's meet.'
'I don't know,' Harry was serious now, his worries returning. 'I want to. But I have to admit. I'm nervous.'
'And you Gryffindors are supposed to be brave!' The text was followed quickly by another. 'Sorry. I don't mean to sound pushy. You don't have to if you don't feel comfortable. But if you do, I think I know how. Have you heard of the Room of Requirement?'
Harry smiled. 'Yes, I think I read something about it in Hogwarts: A History' Actually, he'd still never read the book. He'd never seen the point, since Hermione had it practically memorized.
'Well we could meet there. I have a spell that would work, and that's easier to get ahold of than a potion. Brewing one would take far too long, and I hardly think Snape would let even a Slytherin get away with that without asking a few questions. The spell is "dissimulo". Try it, let me know if you can get it to work.'
Harry pulled out his wand again. He glanced around the room, found a mirror on the wall, and walked toward it. A little nervously, it was an unknown spell sent by a Slytherin after all, he pointed his wand at his face and spoke.
"Dissimulo!"
Nothing changed. He frowned at his reflection. But…
It was odd. He was there, it was still him, but somehow he felt unfamiliar. Familiar yet unfamiliar, his mind kept slipping away from. Maybe it wasn't him. It was a mirror, so it should be him, but. Blinking rapidly, he turned from the mirror. He had a moment of confusion. He looked back, there was no moment of recognition for his own reflection. He'd never seen that person before, but felt no sense of shock or unfamiliarity either. It was too odd. He lifted his wand, then paused.
"Shit." He pulled out his phone, again.
'Uh…how do I take this off?'
'Oh. Shit. Sorry. Just use finite incantatum.'
Harry raised his wand, muttered the spell, and, after checking the mirror to be sure it was effective, replied.
'thanks. That was definitely weird. It worked, though. So, what's the plan? When do we meet?'
'Tomorrow night? That's our last day with these phones anyway, we may as well make the most of it.'
Harry tried to ignore the feeling of a clenched fist in his stomach at that thought. He would follow Roddy's advice, and enjoy what he could.
'Ok. I will meet you at the Room of Requirement at midnight.'
"Everything seems to be going well, if I'm to judge by your face." Harry looked up to see that Broderick the Batty had returned to his own portrait.
"We're meeting here tomorrow." He couldn't keep the foolish grin off his face.
"Ah! Excellent! I'm sure you'll have a wonderful illicit assignation!" The balding wizard beamed.
Harry blushed deeply.
"Well, Harry, I must be off. I have my own illicit assignation to attend to." He winked broadly and Harry smiled back. "Oh and Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"Do enjoy your magazines." And with that Roddy slipped out of his frame.
He picked up a magazine and immediately blushed deeply when he read the title "Wicked Wizards", and noticed the very scantily clad, and well-muscled Quidditch player gracing the front. He winked and smirked up at Harry, and slid his hands up and down his broom handle in a decidedly suggestive manner. He looked at the table and saw that the other magazines were in a similar line. And he noticed the box of tissues and beside it the bottle of…
"Oh, come on!"
Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
I VERY nearly ended this with "Harry pulled out his wand."
I mean, we all know he did. He's young. He has dirty magazines.
Sorry, sorry.
Not at all sorry.
Yours,
Loony Luiny
