AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, I'm back. So, here's Chapter 7...this one's of Harry...hehehe...if Harry seems a bit of a bastard, it's partly because of Ron's protectiveness and influence. So, read and enjoy...oh yeah...and I've finished Dancing Life. No biggie. See you in a twilight!
DISCLAIMER: Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling.
Hormonal Half-Wits
Chapter 7: Harry
I was right.
Revision of previous statements; I HATE MEN!
Such unnecessarily complicated creatures…so I was sitting in my room contemplating how very strange this day has been so far when fate decided to throw me a…oh what does Hermione call them…curbed ball? Something along those lines.
Who should decide knocking is out-of-fashion and decide to Apparate into my room while I was still half-starkers? Harry Effing Potter, the rotten blighter…
I swear I sat there for a full minute really trying to comprehend the magnitude of the incomprehensibility of it (hadn't yet realized the impossibility of it) before realizing (yet again) that I was half-dressed.
And still wet.
I grabbed the nearest shirt sitting on my bed and hauled it over my head. Somewhere in the three seconds it took me to do so, Harry had made his way over to the bed, sitting down on the edge…uncomfortably close.
I eyed him warily. He eyed me curiously. The bed creaked ominously, and I am certain, totally on purpose and entirely out of spite. Harry was the first to break the silence with something characteristically fumbling like 'There something you want to talk to me about?' Which I found odd enough, seeing as Harry usually avoided talking to girls after that Cho fiasco years ago…plus Harry never sought out conversation with me.
I simply arched an eyebrow (spending far too much time around Malfoy…mannerisms are starting to rub off…) and cocked my head inquisitively. Harry rushed on with what sounded like a hastily-prepared, pre-planned little speech saying how I was acting strange and how Ron and he had noticed (hippogriff's balls, it was Ron all the way…) that I wasn't entirely myself. I asked him if he was talking about.
He said I was behaving unnaturally around the men in the Order today and whether I wanted a boyfriend or something.
I asked him if he was feeling alright and whether or not he'd taken anything from the twins. He merely shook his head, almost incredulously. And then he was kissing me. I think one of us has gone insane, and I think it was him…although it could have been me if he'd continued to kiss me…it wasn't at all the pleasant experience I had anticipated in my younger years…
It felt like there was a fish in my mouth. A slimy, warm, wet fish. Alive. Wriggling. The thought nearly made me lose my lunch and I pulled away hastily. I have to say, Harry looked rather stupid with his tongue lolling out of his mouth and with the strangest expression on his face.
I ran all the way downstairs and then back upstairs when everyone greeted me with questions of whether Harry had talked to me and if I'd had my shirt on. I noticed several people (Ron oddly not included) looking slightly not happy.
I ran all the way up to Sirius's old study, which was now basically empty. Buckbeak was pacing in one corner, blood-caked bones spattered around him. I tossed him a couple of ferrets from a bucket and listened to him crunching away on the bones with an odd, grotesque satisfaction as I imagined Harry and Ron in place of the ferrets. Malfoy may have found his way in there as well. And Zabini.
So, here I am, sitting next to a delightfully macabre creature content in listening to it savagely rip apart cute, fluffy rodents. Perhaps I let Harry kiss me too long…
…
