The room was small and dingy, the Dursleys would have puked if they saw it,
but it was all Harry could afford on his measly pay. "I could fix it up,"
Harry muttered as he ran his finger along the dusty counter. "I think I'll
paint it a nice shade of green," Harry took out his wand and flicked it
once. He stood for awhile, contemplating the effect it had on the
apartment's appearance. "No, that's a little too cheery for my taste,"
Harry smirked. Cheer had never played an active part in his day to day
life, what with all the battles and death he had seen in his seventeen
years. Harry flicked his wand one more and the room became a deep blue.
"No, too dark, it'll bring my mood down." His brow furrowed in
frustration. In his mind he knew it was a petty thing to get frustrated
over, but now that he was out of Hogwarts and away from all the things that
had stressed him before, he enjoyed having a chance to get upset over
something trivial. "How about a deep red?" Harry smiled and flicked his
wand once more. The walls turned a deep shade of red, similar to the
Gryffindor red he had worn for seven years. "Yes, that'll do," he smiled
and turned to the rest of his apartment, which was in dire need of
attention.
"It could use a bit of tidying up, that's for sure," a voice said from behind Harry, making him jump. His slight jump made the voice chuckle, and Harry whirled around angrily to see Cho Chang leaning on the doorway, looking like she owned the place. Harry had once had a serious crush on Cho, and they 'went out' in 5th year, but then Cho became an emotional wreck and left him by saying that he just wasn't the one for her. Since then Harry could hardly stand being around her, but he didn't show it.
"What do you want?" he muttered, turning back around to survey the wreck of a kitchen he now owned. He heard footsteps come up behind him and felt a soft touch on his shoulder. Harry shuddered, but didn't move away.
"I want to be your friend again, Harry. I feel so awful for what I did to you fifth year. I want you to forgive me."
Harry turned towards her, "Why now? That was two years ago, and I've kind of gotten over it. I'm not dwelling on something that happened when I was fifteen." He walked away from her, towards the small living room the size of an ordinary pantry.
"But you don't know why I said what I did. You don't know what I was going through. Can you at least hear me out?"
Harry coughed, caught off guard by this. "Well, my schedule is quite busy. I could try to work you in sometime next week, but that's not a big chance."
Cho laughed, making Harry even angrier. Unbeknownst to him he was causing the wall paint to flicker colors back and forth, from red to black to green to yellow to puke orange and back all over again. "Harry, you work at the wand shop, there's no possible way you can't fit me in for at least a half hour."
Harry glared at her. "How did you find out?" he asked, upset at the fact that his new dingy lifestyle had been somehow revealed to part of the world.
"I know things," Cho smiled alluringly. "But that's not the point. Can you at least try to talk to me? Fifteen minutes, five minutes even, I just want to get this off my chest."
Harry sighed, "I guess, fifteen minutes. Meet me outside the wand shop in two days at eleven, that's my lunch hour."
Cho smiled and said, "I'll see you then." She turned to leave and noticed the walls. "That puke-orange color really isn't that great, you should go with a green to match your eyes." She flashed her pearly whites at Harry once more before leaving and closing the door behind her. Harry looked at the walls, and quickly changed them back to the maroon he had chosen earlier.
"Oh dear," he mutter before plopping on the coach the apartment came with, sending a cloud of dust into the hair and causing him to cough. "Oh dear."
***
Draco was pacing up and down the room, thoughts flying everywhere. In the corner Pansy sat cowering, scared by this new, angry Draco that was extremely intimidating.
"How could he do this to me without expecting me to fly off the handle? One day he's telling me one thing and the other he's telling me something different. How am I expected to understand him when he doesn't understand himself? It doesn't make any sense whatsoever, it just doesn't." His long black cloak swirled around him as he paced back and forth along the length of the room.
"Honey," Pansy whimpered, hiding herself from Draco's glare under a hot pink blanket.
"Don't even get me started on you, you, you." Draco stopped, unsure how to continue, he frowned and a couple whisps of his long blond hair fell in front of his face. Suddenly, a thought came to him, and he looked up triumphantly. "You scaredy-cat."
Pansy's screwed up tight; she was trying really hard not to laugh. Draco sighed. "Go ahead, say it," he said resignedly.
"Scaredy-cat?!?" Pansy burst out and fell into a fit of giggles. Draco glared at her, annoyed hoe much her moods could change and how quickly.
"You were cowering in the corner a second ago, what's happened to you?" he grunted.
Pansy contemplated his question, and between fits of giggles said, "I'm.not.scared.of.a.kindergartener!" This made Draco even madder, and he stormed out of the room. The door slammed behind. "Oh, honey, I didn't mean anything by it!" Pansy called after him, with no answer. Happily, she got up and started to throw things around the room. She loved making Draco mad; he just looked so cute when he was upset!
Out in the next room Draco was sitting on the edge of a plump, ruby-red chair Pansy had given him last year as a Christmas present. He hardly ever used it, comfort was a part of his daily life.
Draco shook his head, he was so ashamed that he was still leaving with his father at the age of 20, but there was no way out of it. If he left, well, his father wouldn't let it slide past him, and Lucius also had the power of a certain You-Know-Who behind him. Draco placed his head in his hands, willing the throbbing migraine to go way. How come he couldn't have been born to a normal family? How come life was always to mean to him, and why had he never found that thing that he was looking for.
Draco moaned again, "Not that again," he told himself, and stopped letting his thoughts run away from him. Life was horrible, Draco decided. Horrible, horrible, horrible.
***
"I am a hard worker that is always dedicated to her work," Hermione said primly, sitting upright in her chair. She was wearing a smart, pin-stripe business suit with a pair of black pumps. That morning she had spent well over an hour trying to figure out what to wear, that was quite long for Hermione. Her usual morning routine was waking up and leaving.
"What's your education history?" The lady sitting across from Hermione behind a pine wood desk sat very similar to Hermione, although she had a more confident glow about her.
"I attended Hogwarts for the full seven years, and graduated as the Head Girl for Gryffindor." Hermione bragged about her year as a Head Girl any chance she got.
The lady nodded and began writing something in a notebook in front of her. Many minutes passed, and the lady didn't stop writing. Hermione began feeling more and more uncomfortable, and began looking around the room. There were some articles framed up on the wall. Hermione squinted to read the titles. "Harry Potter Resurfaces" "Is Harry Potter for Real?" And finally, "The Rise and Fall of Harry Potter." Hermione smiled, this woman must be quite the Harry Potter addict. The smile vanished as she remembered the terms upon which she and Harry had last parted.
Hermione winced, the memories flooding back too quickly.
"Are you okay?," the lady asked in a way that told Hermione she didn't really care. Hermione nodded. "Then, I guess we'll proceed. Have you had any other jobs?"
"Yes, I worked as an intern at a muggle newspaper."
The lady looked up, a spark in her eye, "Which one, if I can be so bold to ask."
Hermione smiled, "The Sun."
The lady nodded and wrote something else down.
***
"It could use a bit of tidying up, that's for sure," a voice said from behind Harry, making him jump. His slight jump made the voice chuckle, and Harry whirled around angrily to see Cho Chang leaning on the doorway, looking like she owned the place. Harry had once had a serious crush on Cho, and they 'went out' in 5th year, but then Cho became an emotional wreck and left him by saying that he just wasn't the one for her. Since then Harry could hardly stand being around her, but he didn't show it.
"What do you want?" he muttered, turning back around to survey the wreck of a kitchen he now owned. He heard footsteps come up behind him and felt a soft touch on his shoulder. Harry shuddered, but didn't move away.
"I want to be your friend again, Harry. I feel so awful for what I did to you fifth year. I want you to forgive me."
Harry turned towards her, "Why now? That was two years ago, and I've kind of gotten over it. I'm not dwelling on something that happened when I was fifteen." He walked away from her, towards the small living room the size of an ordinary pantry.
"But you don't know why I said what I did. You don't know what I was going through. Can you at least hear me out?"
Harry coughed, caught off guard by this. "Well, my schedule is quite busy. I could try to work you in sometime next week, but that's not a big chance."
Cho laughed, making Harry even angrier. Unbeknownst to him he was causing the wall paint to flicker colors back and forth, from red to black to green to yellow to puke orange and back all over again. "Harry, you work at the wand shop, there's no possible way you can't fit me in for at least a half hour."
Harry glared at her. "How did you find out?" he asked, upset at the fact that his new dingy lifestyle had been somehow revealed to part of the world.
"I know things," Cho smiled alluringly. "But that's not the point. Can you at least try to talk to me? Fifteen minutes, five minutes even, I just want to get this off my chest."
Harry sighed, "I guess, fifteen minutes. Meet me outside the wand shop in two days at eleven, that's my lunch hour."
Cho smiled and said, "I'll see you then." She turned to leave and noticed the walls. "That puke-orange color really isn't that great, you should go with a green to match your eyes." She flashed her pearly whites at Harry once more before leaving and closing the door behind her. Harry looked at the walls, and quickly changed them back to the maroon he had chosen earlier.
"Oh dear," he mutter before plopping on the coach the apartment came with, sending a cloud of dust into the hair and causing him to cough. "Oh dear."
***
Draco was pacing up and down the room, thoughts flying everywhere. In the corner Pansy sat cowering, scared by this new, angry Draco that was extremely intimidating.
"How could he do this to me without expecting me to fly off the handle? One day he's telling me one thing and the other he's telling me something different. How am I expected to understand him when he doesn't understand himself? It doesn't make any sense whatsoever, it just doesn't." His long black cloak swirled around him as he paced back and forth along the length of the room.
"Honey," Pansy whimpered, hiding herself from Draco's glare under a hot pink blanket.
"Don't even get me started on you, you, you." Draco stopped, unsure how to continue, he frowned and a couple whisps of his long blond hair fell in front of his face. Suddenly, a thought came to him, and he looked up triumphantly. "You scaredy-cat."
Pansy's screwed up tight; she was trying really hard not to laugh. Draco sighed. "Go ahead, say it," he said resignedly.
"Scaredy-cat?!?" Pansy burst out and fell into a fit of giggles. Draco glared at her, annoyed hoe much her moods could change and how quickly.
"You were cowering in the corner a second ago, what's happened to you?" he grunted.
Pansy contemplated his question, and between fits of giggles said, "I'm.not.scared.of.a.kindergartener!" This made Draco even madder, and he stormed out of the room. The door slammed behind. "Oh, honey, I didn't mean anything by it!" Pansy called after him, with no answer. Happily, she got up and started to throw things around the room. She loved making Draco mad; he just looked so cute when he was upset!
Out in the next room Draco was sitting on the edge of a plump, ruby-red chair Pansy had given him last year as a Christmas present. He hardly ever used it, comfort was a part of his daily life.
Draco shook his head, he was so ashamed that he was still leaving with his father at the age of 20, but there was no way out of it. If he left, well, his father wouldn't let it slide past him, and Lucius also had the power of a certain You-Know-Who behind him. Draco placed his head in his hands, willing the throbbing migraine to go way. How come he couldn't have been born to a normal family? How come life was always to mean to him, and why had he never found that thing that he was looking for.
Draco moaned again, "Not that again," he told himself, and stopped letting his thoughts run away from him. Life was horrible, Draco decided. Horrible, horrible, horrible.
***
"I am a hard worker that is always dedicated to her work," Hermione said primly, sitting upright in her chair. She was wearing a smart, pin-stripe business suit with a pair of black pumps. That morning she had spent well over an hour trying to figure out what to wear, that was quite long for Hermione. Her usual morning routine was waking up and leaving.
"What's your education history?" The lady sitting across from Hermione behind a pine wood desk sat very similar to Hermione, although she had a more confident glow about her.
"I attended Hogwarts for the full seven years, and graduated as the Head Girl for Gryffindor." Hermione bragged about her year as a Head Girl any chance she got.
The lady nodded and began writing something in a notebook in front of her. Many minutes passed, and the lady didn't stop writing. Hermione began feeling more and more uncomfortable, and began looking around the room. There were some articles framed up on the wall. Hermione squinted to read the titles. "Harry Potter Resurfaces" "Is Harry Potter for Real?" And finally, "The Rise and Fall of Harry Potter." Hermione smiled, this woman must be quite the Harry Potter addict. The smile vanished as she remembered the terms upon which she and Harry had last parted.
Hermione winced, the memories flooding back too quickly.
"Are you okay?," the lady asked in a way that told Hermione she didn't really care. Hermione nodded. "Then, I guess we'll proceed. Have you had any other jobs?"
"Yes, I worked as an intern at a muggle newspaper."
The lady looked up, a spark in her eye, "Which one, if I can be so bold to ask."
Hermione smiled, "The Sun."
The lady nodded and wrote something else down.
***