Chapter Three
"What the bloody fuck is wrong with you?"
Zacharias had never been scared of anyone in his life until he met Susan Bones. She not only didn't have any fear of him, didn't listen to him and didn't think his tantrums were acceptable, but she was likely to hex him from here to next week if she thought he was out of line. Being an only child with hippie parents who think punishment is telling you, 'that's not very nice,' he wasn't used to this sort of thing.
"Sod off," he said defiantly, inside terrified of her wand coming through the closed golden curtains and hexing him. He actually flinched a little when they were pulled aside, but he assumed she wouldn't notice.
"Don't tell me to sod off, Zacharias Smith." She looked fit to be tied. "After all we went through to set that up and things were going so well and you just threw a fit! What were you thinking?"
"He's not gay," he said petulantly, glad that no one else was around to hear him sound so sulky; it would ruin his reputation.
"Not gay?" She threw her arms up and then fell over on the bed, landing on her back and staring up at the canvas ceiling of the four-poster. "Zachy, did you even pay attention to what was going on?" She looked at him for an answer, but he just stared ahead and tried to look like he couldn't hear her. "He was going to kiss you."
"No he wasn't."
"His lips were on your cheek!"
"Harry Potter would not kiss me in front of all of Hufflepuff house."
"He nearly did!' She was yelling now, and he could see her hand reflexively gong for her wand. He flinched again, closing his eyes and fighting back anger. Getting angry with Susan only made things worse. "You know," she said, more calmly, which he wasn't sure was a good thing. "You're the only person who frustrates me this much." She sighed, long and drawn out, sitting up and taking his hands into her own. "Zach, I love you so much," she said softly. "You're one of my best friends. I've known you long enough to know why you are how you are, and I am determined to make you see that you're not complete shite."
"I'm not shite."
"No, you're not. You seem to think we think so, though." Thoughts of all his fears came to mind, but he pushed them back and sat up straighter, ready to tell her off for putting him down. "You're honest, and caring, and intelligent. You're great with potions and charms, and you know how to hold a conversation in the most unlikely situations." His anger ebbed just a little. "You're bloody irritating as hell if someone dares to suggest something involving you being attractive," he rolled his eyes and she smacked him. "You're fucking gorgeous," she said strongly. "And I've never seen a chaser as good as you on any Quidditch team."
"Fuck off," he said, not really meaning it.
"Zacharias, you need to stop being such a prat." He looked at her, his face feeling warm and his eyes stinging a little, wishing very much that he could say something nice to her, but instead finding himself wishing to just be left alone. "I wish you weren't gay," she said, her voice wistful. "That stupid idiot Ernie," she added, almost a mumble.
"You fancy Ernie?"
"Isn't it obvious?" He shook his head, suddenly feeling very badly indeed. "And then I find out he's not even completely gay. He's a wanker."
"Pegged him there."
She threw him a smile, wiping away a tear that was threatening to run away on her and sat back. "I've arranged it with Granger that you're going to meet him in the library tomorrow."
"What?" His voice was panicked and he hated himself just then.
"He doesn't know," she added. "You're going to apologize to him."
"I am not!" She raised an eyebrow and put her hand on her wand, causing him to stutter a bit. "N-not going to be late."
"Right."
- - -
Sundays had always been quiet, relaxing days in his earlier years at Hogwarts. He remembered hours spent outdoors, flying around lazily on his broom and playing mini-Quidditch games with the rest of the gang. Now though, classes were so hard that most of his mates spent their free time studying to keep up, especially those in Snape's potions N.E.W.T. class. Harry was apparently no exception to this as that was how it came that he was going to be in the library today, studying at the behest of Granger, whose duty it seemed to be to make him.
Zacharias came in wearing his favorite trousers and a button-up, which was about as casual as he liked to get. His parents had tried making him wear shorts when he was younger, but he had come to the realization that his legs were short and thin and reminded him too much of a chicken's for his comfort, so he always wore trousers afterward.
For a while he just stood near the entrance, just off to the side, and sought out Potter's messy hair, which wasn't hard in the sparse crowd. The boy was utterly sexy, Zacharias thought. His hair was just wild enough to look untamed and hot without being disturbing and his face was so open and revealing that every emotion played across it like a movie. He'd watched Harry for months, spurned on by his introduction to him last year. For most of the first few years he'd only heard about him and seen him occasionally in the halls, but he figured someone as famous as Potter would be self-important and cruel like Malfoy. Instead, he found someone who was honest, sincere, modest and emotional, who didn't like his fame or want people to like him for it. Susan thought he had been acting like a child on a playground, 'pulling pigtails' as it were to get Potter's attention, but he'd actually been testing him, searching him out and discerning whether he was truly as good a person as he lead people to believe. By the end of the year, Zacharias was in love and Harry thought he was a prat. Brilliant.
Now, watching him at the study table with potions texts around him he looked like a good student, almost a Ravenclaw, but the occasionally frustrated sigh and distracted look about let Zacharias know he wasn't as good at studying as Ravenclaws were.
When he finally made his way over, he bristled and expected a fight or some sort of embarrassed scene, but instead Potter ignored him. Even when he sat down and coughed, there was no response. It started to make him angry to be ignored like this; people shouldn't be so rude. Finally Harry looked up at him, anger and frustration playing across his features. Zacharias took note that his eyes were fiery green, flecks of gold giving them an almost burning intensity. He'd never been able to look at them this close before. His heart warmed a little, the fire of Potter's eyes enough to melt the lake in winter.
"What do you want, Smith? Come to make fun of me again?"
"I—What?"
"I suppose you think it's funny because I'm queer, right? Just go ahead and lead me on, then embarrass me in front of everyone and it's alright because I'm bloody Harry Potter; Gryffindor hero. I can take it, right?"
"Erm, no, actually," he replied, his mind working overtime to catch up with this tirade.
"Well what do you want, then?"
"I… came to…" His anger was flaring, and he was fighting to control himself. The words weren't sinking in, only his tone. Zacharias had never responded well to anger from people he didn't know, and Potter was no exception. He decided to blurt it out before he would change his mind, hoping it would help. "I came to bloody apologize for being an arsehole." Harry sat silently, his face muddled with emotion. Zacharias felt his own temper subside a little and took a chance, as his brain started to catch up with his ears. "Did you say you were queer?"
"Yah," Harry said, looking defensive. "Not many people know about it," he added, softer. "I – sort of just figured it out."
"Really?"
"Yah."
They sat in silence for a bit, just watching each other. Zacharias felt suddenly horrible, his mind seeing last night through the other boy's eyes. The thought I really am a prat crossed his mind, but he pushed it aside and instead made a look around to see if anyone else were looking. When he saw that aside from Madame Pince, who was currently restocking shelves and thoroughly distracted, no one was around, he reached over and took Harry's hand, gently, nervously, his heart beating a thousand times a minute, and pulled it into his own.
"I, um, wanted to say," he cleared his throat, suddenly finding it completely scratchy. "Well, last year, I mean…" He let it trail off, suddenly wondering whether this made any sense. Last year he'd been a complete idiot and now, all of a sudden Potter wants him? "Hang on," he blurted out angrily before he could stop himself. "Shouldn't you hate me? Shouldn't you… Wait, is this some kind of joke?" He looked around again, dropping Harry's hand, determined to find a group of Gryffindors lurking around and giggling at his expense.
"Zach, cut it out," Harry said, grabbing and squeezing Zacharias's hand to stop him from pulling away. "Yeah, you were a jerk," he said softly, forcing the blond to look at him. "And at first I thought you were a lost cause, but you sort of changed towards the end." He kept a steady gaze into Zacharias's, willing the angered and self-conscious boy to listen and hear him. "You changed, and I saw you differently over the summer. I had a lot of time to think things over."
"You thought about me over the summer?"
"A little," Harry said sheepishly. "Not like obsessively, just, sort of couldn't help it. I mean, you were so different than everyone else. You didn't just accept what I said like, well, cattle or something."
"You were vague," he mused, hardly even realizing that Potter's fingers were stroking the back of his hand. "It frustrated me." When it finally did dawn on him that his hand was being caressed, he pulled it back quickly and gave Harry a paranoid look. "It's still a bit odd," he said harshly. "You weren't a pouf last year."
"Well, I suppose I hadn't really had time to think about it, had I?" Harry's tone was also harsh now, his face looking dejected and angry again. "What with fighting Voldemort and my godfather dying and all that? But I suppose you'd like I should have just come to you years ago, right? I didn't know you years ago, but that's the only way it makes sense, does it?" He stood up, slamming his books closed and stuffing them angrily into his sack. "You know, Ron's right; you're never going to change and you're not worth all the trouble."
"Oh Ron said that, did he?" Zacharias was on his feet now as well, his hands clenching and un-clenching in a desire to be doing something other than just hanging uselessly. "Well Ron's a big fucking idiot!"
"He's a lot smarter than you are! At least he can be honest with himself!" And with that, Harry's bag fully packed and Madame Pince's glares coming toward them from the stacks, Potter took off.
"Well that went well," Hannah said, coming in at such an opportune moment that Zacharias could only assume she'd been spying on him. "You are such an idiot," she said, disappearing as well.
He sat heavily back into the chair and lowered his head. He was an idiot.
- - -
The following day he saw Harry first at breakfast, looking rather glum and making a nasty face when he noticed Zacharias paying attention. None of his friends were talking to him just then, except for Justin who seemed to think it was all very funny. Hannah had told him that if he couldn't even be trusting of someone he wanted to be in a relationship with, how could he trust her? Susan had agreed and they'd both been ignoring him since. Ernie was just silently saying nothing, trying to avoid the whole inter-group conflict altogether.
Since they were his only friends, Zacharias now found himself sitting very much alone, and he realized, slowly and stubbornly trying not to of course, that it was his own fault.
In a desire to tell someone, he grabbed up parchment and a quill and began to write:
Dear Mum,
I wanted to say that I was sorry for the way I acted on September the first. I know I was horrible to you and dad, an I need to stop being so disgusting to you two. Susan wanted me to say that, and I suppose it took me a while to see why. I love you both very much, but sometimes I just get scared – Like just now, when I wrote that I had this horrible wrenching feeling in my stomach because I'm telling you something about how I feel.
Mum, what's wrong with me? I feel like I can't trust anyone and I don't know why. Maybe I should see a therapist or something.
There's a boy I like. You might know him as I know you and dad have started reading the Prophet; Harry Potter. I met him last year for those after-school meetings I told you about. Well anyway, Susan is a very strong person and she sort of ordered me to do something about it, and her and Hannah and Justin and Ernie all conspired to get us together. Well, it sort of worked I suppose, but I kind of thought they were playing a joke and I botched it all up.
Yesterday I went to apologize and things didn't go very well I messed everything up again, and now Hannah and Susan aren't talking to me. They say I'm emotionally void and worthless. I know they're just trying to make me see reason, which Dad has said is useless a lot of the time – like you I suppose, he started, but crossed that off. I'm stubborn, and stupid, and a prat and I know it, but how do I change it?
I miss talking to you like this. I know I'm the one who stopped, but maybe we could do this now and you could help me? I really need it. I really need you. I love you so much.
Your son,
Zacharias – Flower
When it was finished, he looked around to see that most everyone had done and gone, including Harry. With a sigh, he got up and folded the paper into an envelope, checking his watch to see there were ten minutes before class. It was just enough time, he guessed, and started for the Owlry.
His mind was racing with thoughts, mostly anger with himself, but he made it to the Owlry in under five minutes and quickly marched through to get the letter off before Potions. When he looked up to find an owl, he was surprised to see Hermione there.
"Hello Smith," she said softly. He could tell she wasn't angry with him, which was a little bit of a shock.
"Hey Granger." He breathed in and puffed his chest a little, courage now full. "I want to apologize." She looked confused, but said nothing. "I know you tried to help yesterday – with the library – and I went and fouled it up good."
"Too right," she said sarcastically.
"Well, I'm not good with all this trust business," he said softly, suddenly unable to look her in the eye. "I'm trying, though." Normally he'd have been defiant and steady, anger hiding his emotions. Now though, it seemed like the anger was gone; something about saying it out loud seemed to have taken it away.
"Well, Harry's really hurt you know."
"Yes, and I didn't mean to hurt him."
She regarded him for a few minutes, her eyes like searchlights trying to find something hidden behind his features. She softened after a bit and gave a small smile. "It's not me you should be telling this to."
He nodded and she smiled and something inside him sort of clicked; a sense of right about this. As she left, he quickly chose one of the school owls, tied the letter and ran off to make it to Potions. Last thing he needed just then was a detention.
He arrived in class to find Malfoy and his thugs sitting where he would normally sit at the table next to Potter's. Terry Boot had usually sat with Harry, but today he was sitting with Justin and Harry was alone. With the sense of a setup, Zacharias sat down next to Harry and coughed, self-consciously, and started pulling out his homework parchment.
Snape slammed through his workroom door, his wand causing it to close after him. Wordlessly he moved to the front of the class and accio'd all the homework. Still silent, he pointed his wand at the board in front of the class, revealing the procedure for the start of a polyjuice potion. "As any idiot can see, we're going to put our homework to good use. The potion, as you should now know, takes just around a month to complete, mostly due to the lacewing flies. As you've done this already, we will move directly to the next step. There will be no talking to other members of the class, and your voices will not rise above a whisper. Potter, if you so much as look at Malfoy again it will be detention. Ten points from Gryffindor." Harry let out a small groan, nearly quiet enough that even Zacharias almost missed it, and Snape continued. "Now, begin."
"Do you – "
"Don't really want to talk to you," Harry cut him off. "Just do every other instruction; I'll go first."
Zacharias bit down on his anger and frustration and started preparing to do the third step. As he was cutting up one of the leeches, making sure to slice just down the middle as required, Harry retrieved their stewed flies. Once the dark-haired teen had returned, the blond was ready to make a second go.
"I think we should talk this out. I'm sorry," he said in a rush, before he could be cut off.
"Yeah, well, fat lot of good that'll do us."
"Stop being stubborn, Potter," he said angrily. "I'm a git, and I know it. I fucked up. Aren't Gryffindors supposed to be forgiving?"
"I thought that was you lot?"
"Right, well, give us a bone, will ya?"
Harry sighed, adding the leeches and stirring twenty times counter-clockwise, his eyes fogged. Zacharias could tell he wasn't really paying attention, and just before he could say, a cold voice called out, "If you don't pay more attention, you'll destroy your potion and both you and Mr. Smith will receive 'D's for your troubles. Ten points." He was soon after looking over Malfoy's work, leaving the two of them to stew a bit.
"I really am sorry," Zacharias tried again. Harry remained silent, so he continued, his courage faltering with every word. "It's not easy for me to trust people. I don't know why." He coughed and rubbed the back of his neck, which had suddenly developed a crick. "I-I like you a lot, Harry. I sort of watched you last year, and I needed to know …" He felt so nervous that bile was rising in his throat. Honesty and feelings were very difficult for him outside of his group of friends, but he knew this was important. "See, I sort of thought you'd be a prat, actually. Ironic I know. So I kept trying to make it come out that you weren't really as honest and caring, sincere and brilliant as you turned out to be." He didn't mind lacing his words with compliments, not only because they were true but also because he hoped Harry would fall for them. "It took me all year to figure it out, you see. I'm a bit thick."
"Really? Never would've guessed."
"Yah, I deserve that." Zacharias felt his pride taking a hit, but for the first time he wasn't ready to prickle up about it. He had realized Harry was poking decent fun at him, not trying to make him feel genuinely bad. It was starting to feel easier to talk to him, which was definitely good for the benefit of future trust situations. "Can you forgive me?"
Harry stayed silent, adding leeches as they came and seeming to ponder the question for a while. "I might be able to," he said softly, glancing up to make sure Snape was still far enough away not to hear. "If you'll meet me in the library after today's lessons."
"Yeah, sure," he said, his heart jumping with excitement.
"And leave your attitude behind, Smith," Harry added playfully.
"Right."
A/N: I know this one is short, but I couldn't go on just yet because I fear the next chapter may be the last.