Chapter 4
At the Lake...again
The giant squid was bored. With the arrival of Harry Potter on the banks, the squid could just not take it any longer and had sunk to the depths of the lake where he kept his only source of entertainment. His waterproof Sony Discman. One of the funny men in dark suits had most charitably presented him with this a few months ago, when he had pulled one of these men out of the lake after he had fallen in by mistake. Since then, every month, a gift wrapped CD would be delivered to him on the fourteenth of the month. This month's was a cover band for the famous 80's group "Boyz II Squid", called "The New Squids on the Block." Their newest single ("Squids just wanna have fun"), the squid had to admit, was rather catchy.
However, after listening to the song on repeat for the last three hours, the squid was now sick of it. He drifted up to the surface to see if young Potter had left, thus rendering the banks of the lake peaceful once more. Upon reaching the surface, he was disappointed to find Potter still moping (albeit more quietly than earlier). Decidedly more bored listening to music than he would be listening to the rambling angst of confused teenagers, the squid decided to remain on the surface and take a lap around the lake, hoping that maybe one corner of the lake would be devoid of human life.
The squid floated lethargically over to the other side of the lake and caught a glimpse of a group of men in long black cloaks and masks that were obviously designed to be frightening, but ended up drawing the line at mildly startling. They seemed to be practicing casting spells into the air that would emit a wisp of green smoke out of the wand that would form something resembling a skull with a couple of serpents coming out of the mouth. "How grotesque," the squid thought and amused himself momentarily by rearranging the smoke in his head to something a little more appealing to one's aesthetic senses. Five minutes later, he settled on something that he found more appealing to think about when he imagined green smoke and his period of amusement was over. But then he realised that he could prolong it by casting the wandless spell that he picked up over the [500] years that would actually reassemble the wisps of smoke to what he imagined them to be. He amused himself for a while with this, until the men looked more and more perturbed. One or two of them actually took off their masks to make sure that they were seeing correctly. The squid decided that enough was enough after rearranging the smoke to form the lyrics of "Squids just wanna have fun", twice, and went back to his rounds of the lake.
Further along the same bank, he saw a congregation of the men in dark suits huddling under a tree, obviously thinking that they were well concealed. They seemed to be hovering around waiting for something, and the squid was willing to bet four of his eight tentacles that it was for the youngest Malfoy to let them into the building. The squid mentally made this bet against himself (after all, he had nothing to lose), and proceeded onward.
Further down, the Professor that was tied to a willow tree on the other side of the lake just a few weeks earlier was walking around obviously in a philosophical state of mind. The squid paused briefly to listen.
"I just don't understand!" the Professor was exclaiming to himself, rather dramatically. "He wasn't supposed to leave! I thought I was simply setting straight the dynamics of our relationship...how could this have happened?! And I even took points off my own house! Why?! Oh, why?!..." he babbled and threw himself on the ground sobbing loudly. He continued babbling.
The squid groaned to himself and beat a hasty retreat. First angsty students, and now angsty Professors. Would the angst never end?
Yet further along the banks of the lake, the youngest Malfoy was lurking around and waving his wand around in the direction of the walls around the castle Hogwarts was housed in. "I knew it!" the squid thought in triumph and mentally congratulated himself on winning his own bet. Not that he either won or lost anything, but it was a momentary ego boost if nothing else.
After the squid had returned to the point where he began, he noticed that Potter was still sitting there, moaning audibly. It was at this point that he decided that there was nothing on the surface that was of any interest at all whatsoever, and decided to go back down to his abode at the bottom of the lake. True, he was almost out of batteries, and his monthly shipment of CD and batteries still had about four days until it was delivered, but with any luck, he just might find a wayward electric eel wandering around that he could convince and/or bribe to let him plug in the power cord attachment into. The new "Color Me Squidd" album was waiting to be listened to, after all.
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Draco had finished letting the wards down, and decided, since it was such a nice night and all, to go for a little walk around the lake to get some fresh air, and perhaps even clear his mind a little. He walked along, relishing the feel of dewy blades of grass under his bare feet and the relative blankness of his mind until he tripped over something rather large.
"OW!" Draco exclaimed, as he turned around to see who or what he had tripped over. "Potter! What on earth are you doing here?"
Harry, who had just noticed that he was tripped over turned to face Draco with a look so miserable that even the heart of a Slytherin that was Draco's, softened.
"Potter?"
"What do you want, Malfoy?" inquired Harry in a tired tone of voice. "If you're here to give me a hard time, I'm really not in the mood."
Draco's slightly molten heart started to refreeze at this not-so-warm welcome. "Contrary to popular belief, Potter," he started, "my world does not revolve around hunting you down and making your life miserable. As amusing a pasttime as this might be."
Harry sighed, and turned his head around so that he could look over the lake once more. Draco, also in a pensive frame of mind, gazed out over the still waters that were occasionally disturbed by random tentacles waving around as though they were conducting an orchestra.
Draco, after a few minutes of amiable silence (or as amiable a silence between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin could possibly be), oberved, "Nice night eh, Potter?"
"Mmm," Harry replied, in a state of increasing articulation.
"A perfect night for emotional torment," Draco observed again, this time to himself.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Malfoy in emotional torment?" he thought. He was curious. "Why the angst, Malfoy?" he asked Draco.
Draco sighed. He considered telling Harry, just for the sake of letting it out to someone, but then realised that this might not be a good idea for the sole reason that Harry could use this as fuel for the annoying-Draco-as-much-as-humanly-possible fire that Harry consistently seemed to be keeping aflame. At the same time, he conceded, if Harry were willing to commiserate, they would be even, and no one could use anything said as ammunition against the other. "If I tell you, Potter, will you tell me why you are sitting here, obstructing the nighttime strolls of souls in anguish?"
"Sure, why not?" Harry responded unassumingly. "But if this gets out, Malfoy, I will make sure you regret it until the day we graduate."
"Fair enough," complied Draco. "It goes like this: Draco desires relationship. Draco is involved with certain man who will heretofore remain unnamed. Draco falls in love, or at least he thinks he does. Draco discovers that unnamed person does not love him, as Draco thought he did. Draco does not know what to do, but realises that he would rather be in Gryffindor than be in a relationship that does not have love as its base. Draco breaks up with said boyfriend. Draco is perturbed and decides to go on midnight stroll. Draco trips over sworn archenemy and then decides to confide in him for reasons still unknown. And here Draco remains still..."
"HOLY SHIT, MALFOY! You were in love with Snape?! And I thought I had problems..."
Draco buried his face in his hands. "And thank you, Potter, for that extremely untactful outburst of...of...whatever it was..."
"Sorry," muttered Harry. "It just came as bit of a surprise."
"So what are you sitting out here for?" asked Draco, more than ready to turn the tables away from himself.
Harry looked away from Draco and sighed again. "I suppose I have to tell you don't I?"
"Well, considering that was part of our deal, I guess so, Potter," Draco replied, now getting slighly curious.
"Well, my story goes something like this," Harry started. "Harry Potter is famous at Hogwarts for reasons that are beyond his control. Along with Harry's fame, there came much popularity, and two best friends, whom Harry would have given his life for. However, aforementioned two best friends have since then discovered each other, and spend all of their time with the other. Harry is left out in the cold. Regardless of Harry's popularity, he really has no other friends that come remotely close to understanding him at all whatsoever. Harry wishes someone would understand him. Harry is lonely and depressed. Harry goes on frequent walks by the lake. Harry takes one of these walks one night and is tripped over by sworn archenemy. Harry starts speaking like Dobby..."
Mmm," Draco surmised. "So sworn archenemies are in the same boat for once, eh? Misunderstood and lonely."
Guess so."
"Guess so." "Why do you suppose this happens, Potter?"
"Why do you suppose what happens?"
"This! All of this!! I mean, here we are, two relatively desirable men, even though you're from Gryffindor and all, but I guess for a Gryffindor, you're relatively desirable as far as the lower ranks of the human hierarchy are concerned..."
"God, Malfoy. Did you sit here merely for the sake of ragging on me yet again? Because if you did..."
"Sorry, Potter. Went off on a bit of a tangent there didn't I? Anyway, as I was saying...here we are. Two, oh fine, I'll say it...decent...guys who mean no harm to anyone except perhaps, each other, and what happens? We get screwed over. It's an injustice! Injustice, I SAY!"
Harry shot Draco a weird look. Clearly, Draco was a very odd person, but finally, someone understood! Even if it was Draco Malfoy. Harry felt the years-long utter loathing start to give way to sympathy of sorts.
