Title: A Muggle Way of Life
Author: Reyn
Rating: Not sure…T for now due to language, but if I expand this, it might get moved up to M
Author's Note: Hooray! Another chapter! Took me long enough, ne? For a scary second there I was worried this story would go on hiatus due to lack of motivation…
Oh! And Brownie points to those who can name all the OC's with spoken lines
Chapter Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to the wonderful moonlit-shadow0x whose idea I practically stole for the second half of this chapter. Don't worry, I have her permission, but if you want to see the original work, check out her oneshot 'A Muggle Thing'.
Previous Chapter: When we last left off, our Hero and Anti-Hero were forced to make their way to the doctor's office to save Draco from a potentially dangerous death by rust. His first muggle doctor visit was punctuated with learning of all that is horrible about muggle sickness, and took a definite turn for the worst as he was given his first shot ever.
CHAPTER 3: Shopping with Sadists
"Nn!...Ah!...Mm!...Sss!...Nn!..Ow!"
"Damn it, Malfoy! If it hurts so much, stop poking at it!" Harry exclaimed, finally losing his temper after listening to the quiet exclamations of pain for the past five grueling minutes.
"Why don't the pictures on this spellotape bandage move?" Malfoy asked, wincing as he poked at the characters on the Band-Aid once more.
"Because it's muggle. And just like all the other pictures we've encountered here in the muggle world, they won't move no matter how many times you prod at them," Harry explained for what felt to be the millionth time.
"It still hurts," Malfoy complained.
"That's because you haven't stopped poking at it since we got in the car!"
"But why does it still hurt? It should've been healed the second the healer left the room!" Malfoy said, genuine fear lacing through his voice. Oh Merlin, he was going to loose a limb, wasn't he!
Harry sighed. "We're not in the wizarding world anymore, Malfoy. Things take time to heal, no matter how small the injury."
"Are you sure the doctor just wasn't a quack?" Malfoy asked sulkily.
"There's nothing wrong with Dr. Muraki. The problem is with you poking at it. If you had just left it alone, it wouldn't even hurt anymore."
"And how would you know? Have you ever gotten a shot before?"
"As a matter of fact, I have. Loads of times," Harry commented lightly, recalling his days with the Dursleys. Immunizations were required for school, and the Dursleys figured if Harry was going to get his shots, he might as well get all of them, including the ones that weren't required. Harry wasn't sure if they did it because it would be a pain on Harry's part or if they hoped pumping him full of muggle medicine would destroy the magic running through his veins. Perhaps it was a bit of both.
As Harry was off recalling his childhood doctor visits, he didn't notice the crazed look Malfoy was currently giving him.
Who in their right mind would be willing to put themselves through that kind of torture? The needle went STRAIGHT THROUGH his ARM! Who-? What-? WHY!
Realization dawned on the blond.
"You're a bleeding masochist, aren't you!" Draco accused, hand tightly wrapped around his injured arm.
"What! Where the hell did you pull that from?" Harry asked, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to spare a glance in Malfoy's direction.
"You aren't denying it!" Draco pointed out before hissing in pain at the too-tight grip he had on his own arm.
Harry rolled his eyes. "No, Malfoy, I do not get off on pain. If anything, I'm the complete opposite."
The blonde's eyes widened. "You're a sadist!"
"No, that's not what-"
"No wonder you were so insistent on me getting shot! You enjoy it when I'm in pain, don't you! Merlin, when we get home you're going to lock yourself in the bathroom, picture my face contorted in pain, and wank, aren't you? AREN'T YOU! Hey, why are you stopping the car? This isn't our house!" Draco leaned away from Harry. "Potter, I swear if you try to rape me, wand or not, I'll make sure you die a slow and painful death!"
"Oh, get over yourself, you prat. We're at the bloody grocery store," Harry said before getting out of the car. "And for the record, your face looks worse than a screwed up walnut when you act as if you're in pain, and I can safely say that that's a mental image my penis will only react to in the softest of ways."
Draco sat there in shock for a moment before scrambling out of the car after his rival.
"My face is NOT like a walnut's! You take that back right now!" he demanded, stomping after the raven-haired boy.
"And why would I want to do that?" Harry casually asked, weaving through the cars in the parking lot.
"Because first off, my skin is like the moonlight - soft and glowing. This is the perfect mark of an aristocrat, whereas a walnut is hideously tan, which clearly represents the lower, less refined class." Draco gave Harry a pointed, contemptuous look. "Secondly, a walnut is full of wrinkles, and if you look closely, you'll see that I have none. In fact, my skin is as smooth, perfect, creamy, and pale as…" Draco paused as he tried to think of the perfect analogy.
"A baby's bottom?" Harry offered helpfully.
Draco furiously looked over at the dark-haired boy next to him. "Did you just compare my head to a person's derriere!"
"A baby's derriere, yes," Harry corrected.
That was it. No one, and I mean no one, got away with so casually insulting a Malfoy. No one!
Harry didn't even know what hit him as Malfoy tackled him from the side, sending them both into the nearest car with a dull thud.
The two rolled around and wrestled for the upper hand, jabbering and bumping into random cars while throwing punches as an outlet for the built up stress they had acquired while living together.
"-And learn to flush the toilet once in a bloody while! They don't magically flush like they-"
"-I expect my meals to be prepared on time! I shouldn't have to complain about being hungry for you to-"
"-stop poking at the paintings on the wall! They'll never move and you're ruining them with your filthy-"
"-if I have to wake up at the bloody crack of dawn to the sound of you singing off-key in the shower one more time-"
"-repair bill was 600 pounds! You better pay me back with interest, you bloody-"
DEEDOODEEDOODEEDOODEEDOODEEDOODEEDOODEEDOODEEDOODEE-!
Both boys scrambled away from the car they had just bumped into as its alarm wailed throughout the parking lot.
Draco had jumped back a good twenty feet and was frantically patting himself down in a desperate search for his wand before remembering it wasn't there.
"Make it stop!" he shouted, his hands flying up to cover his ears as the alarm seemed to get even louder.
"I can't!" Harry shouted back, nervously glancing around the parking lot at the few people who had stopped to stare at them with bewildered, accusing eyes. "Come on!" he grabbed Malfoy's sleeve and dashed off, dragging the panicking blond to the store.
Once they reached the building's doors, Harry pulled Malfoy off to the side, giving them a chance to catch their breath.
Harry looked over at the blond, who was leaning heavily against the wall, eyes unnaturally wide, mouth gasping for breath, and hand clutching his shirt over his heart.
"Are you alright?" Harry asked, feeling guilty at this initial glee at the thought that Malfoy might be having a heart attack. It wouldn't do well if the Slytherin really were to die on him. Harry imagined he would have a hard time explaining the circumstances surrounding Malfoy's death to the Order.
"What…the bloody fuck...was that?" Malfoy demanded.
"A car alarm."
"A what!"
"A device to keep other people from stealing someone's car," Harry explained.
"Why'd it turn on?"
"Because we bumped into the car."
"So? We bumped into loads of cars," Malfoy reasoned, not coming to the full understanding of what he was being told.
""Not all cars have alarms."
"But we weren't even trying to steal it!"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, well, the alarm had no way of knowing that."
Draco looked perplexed for a moment before his classic sneer was back in place and he began muttering under his breath about how asinine all muggle inventions were.
Harry simply remained silent as he headed inside, watching Malfoy jump at the automatic sliding doors out of the corner of his eye. Grabbing a cart, Harry patiently waited for the blond to follow, hiding an amused expression as Malfoy cautiously scampered through the doors, worried that they might close on him. He was then delayed for another moment as the contemptuous Slytherin took the time to leer at the shopping cart, as if it had done him a personal wrong before Harry let out an exasperated sigh and began moving forward.
Automatically heading towards the fresh produce section first, Harry paid Malfoy little mind as he went about searching for the freshest fruits and vegetables.
Harry decided this to be a bad idea as a loud series of thuds caused him to turn and find Malfoy a short distance away, holding a single apple with the rest of the red fruit piled up around his feet and scattered about the floor. The Gryffindor frowned as he vaguely recalled seeing a pyramid display in the empty spot next to where Malfoy was standing.
Growling softly, Harry quickly moved to fetch the troublemaker and dragged him back to the cart by his arm.
"Do NOT leave my side," Harry ordered before turning back to his previous task of examining broccoli; a very important task that required all of his attention. But far be it from the blond to allow the Gryffindor's eyes to stray somewhere else.
"Aren't you going to clean that up?" Malfoy asked; pointing to the mess he had made.
"I am not your slave, Malfoy, nor am I your father. If anything, you should be the one on your hands and knees helping that poor shopkeeper instead of that old lady who can barely bend over."
"Are you nuts? I'm not about to go over there with that worker and old lady just to put myself at risk of catching menopause!"
Harry snorted, earning them both a stern glare from a woman who was just passing by, obviously sensitive on the subject of aging (her name was Mom, suspiciously enough).
Weaving his way over to the fruits, Harry began to pat down cantaloupe, hoping to find a good one to serve with breakfast later that week.
He obviously forgot the first rule of watching a child in the store: NEVER take your eyes off the child. NEVER.
A quiet 'ow!' followed by some soft chuckling wasn't enough to pull Harry's attention. However, the loud "What are you snickering at, you stupid muggle!" was.
Harry looked over to see an irate Malfoy standing in front of the pineapples, glaring at a young man who looked to be only a few years older than them. Quickly deciding this man wasn't someone to be reckoned with (due to his back hair with bleached tips, tattoo, and freaky contacts), Harry hurried over before the situation grew out of hand.
"Mal-…Drake! What are you-?"
"You see this man!" Draco proclaimed, grabbing Harry by the sleeve and yanking him forward. "He's the most powerful man you'll ever lay eyes on! He's also my keeper, so you better think twice before laughing at me or I'll have him hex your pants off!"
The young man raised a brow. "Hex my pants off? Why don't you just take them off yourself if you really want to see my cock so badly?"
As Malfoy turned bright pink and began to sputter, Harry intervened.
"Sorry about him. He's special," he said, tapping the side of his head out of the blonde's line of sight.
"You hear that? I'm special!" Malfoy announced, obviously missing the meaning Harry sent across. "So you better back off!"
The man rolled his eyes with a smirk and walked over to a different fruit display, leaving Harry behind, wishing there was a wall he could bash his head into. Or some ice to put on his neck where Malfoy had managed to land a punch. Although considering the fact he was still in the Slytherin's company, he'd gladly take the wall over the ice.
And then he'd bash Malfoy's face into it instead.
After all, while Dumbledore had said to keep him safe and alive, he never mentioned anything about him not being injured…
Harry shook his head from his thoughts. Merlin, if he kept up this kind of thinking he'd be proving Malfoy's sadist accusation correct. But then again, if Malfoy was a masochist it wouldn't be so bad. The idiot was worrying his wound in the car earlier.
The sudden mental image of a naked Draco gagged and bound to a chair, his legs tied so that they were forced open to reveal all assaulted Harry's mind. The blonde's face flushed and his eyes shimmered with unspoken pleas as he tried to shift in to a more comfortable position, only to moan as the ropes that restrained his movement cut into his skin. The blush that stained Harry's own cheeks caused him to doubt his anti-sadistic manner as his mind's eye traveled down mental!Draco's torso to gaze upon his fully erect and weeping cock.
A dull 'thud' followed by a splattering sound and a rather loud 'Oi!' broke Harry away from his thoughts as he whirled around to see what sort of trouble Malfoy had gotten himself into this time.
Taking in the sight before him, the Gryffindor groaned, distinctly wishing he were anywhere but here.
There stood Malfoy with a malicious, triumphant smirk firmly on his face. In front of him, looking absolutely furious, was the snickering man from earlier – covered from his feet to his upper thighs in broken bits of watermelon.
"MALFOY!" Harry shouted, completely forgetting the need to keep the idiot's name a secret. "What the HELL are you doing!"
"It slipped," the blond replied, his smirk transforming into a self-satisfied grin.
"I am really really sorry about him," Harry quickly apologized before grabbing Malfoy's arm and dragging him off to the opposite end of the market.
"What are you doing! Where are you taking me!" the blond cried out. "I demand you unhand me this instant!"
Rather than reply, Harry chose to do what he did best where the Slytherin was concerned. Ignore him.
"Will you let me go! You're hurting my arm! What are you looking for anywa-OW! Stop pulling! What is that? What did you just grab from the shelves? OW! I told you to stop dragging me around! All it takes is a gentle tug to make me come, you prat! There's no use in trying to rip my arm off!"
Harry continued to remain silent as they headed back to the cart.
"Now what are you doing?" Malfoy asked once his arm was free. "What's that? Hey! Why are you ripping the bag open? You haven't paid for that yet! Ow! Let go of – hey! What are you-? What the hell!"
Stepping back, the raven haired man proudly surveyed his work. To help prevent anymore incidents from happening, Malfoy's left wrist was now zip-tied to the metal bars of the shopping cart.
"Potter!" Malfoy hissed, instantly moving forward to block his bound wrist from any curious stares. "What is the meaning of this? Untie me, right now!"
"No," Harry replied simply, moving forward to start pushing the cart over to the watermelons to properly apologize to the man, Malfoy having no choice but to walk alongside.
As they approached the mess, another man walked over, carefully stepping over the broken bits of shell that littered the floor. Tall and seemingly suave in every way, this light brunette was laughing as he approached his friend. Soft words were exchanged before the brunette's laughter doubled, causing the other man to scowl.
Still chuckling, the brunette picked a bit of watermelon off his friend's pant leg and popped it into his mouth, causing not only his friend, but Harry and Draco to go wide-eyed. Now smirking, he picked off another bit of watermelon and gently put it against red lips, watching as his lover accepted the fruit and devoured it, pink tongue darting out to wipe away any juicy residue.
Both Harry and Draco stopped unable to tear their eyes away from the sight as the brunette swooped down to steal a kiss, and then several more, which rapidly led up to a full-blown snogging session right there in the mess of watermelon.
"Err…right. Let's get our shopping done, shall we?" Harry said in a strained voice as he practically pivoted the cart and made a beeline for the nearest aisle to disappear into.
Doodle-eh-doo! Doodle-eh-doo! Doodle-eh-doo!
"Malfoy, you do realize that if you keep twisting your wrist like that, it will eventually chafe and remain sore for a few days, right?" Harry asked in an almost bored tone as he eyed the rows of meat before him.
"And whose fault will that be?" Malfoy retorted, giving up his futile struggle.
"Yours," Harry replied, placing some fish in the cart before steering it down another aisle.
"Merlin, this has got to be the worst and most humiliating day of my life," the blond muttered as he trudged alongside the cart.
"Worse than the ferret incident?" Harry asked, earning himself a harsh glare, to which he grinned in reply. "Well, since you're here, I might as well get your opinion for what you want to eat next week."
Sulking silence was his reply.
With a sigh, Harry turned to the nearest shelf and grabbed two cans. "Malfoy, do you prefer spaghetti or ravioli?"
"What are those?" Malfoy asked, frowning.
Harry glanced down at the cans in his hands. "Err…spaghetti and ravioli. Why?"
Malfoy scoffed. "Potter, I have seen spaghetti and ravioli served on the finest of platters in Italy, and I can tell you right now that those are neither spaghetti nor ravioli."
"Just because they're canned doesn't mean-"
"What's 'canned'?"
Harry paused before remembering that canning foods was purely a muggle thing. "It's the process of putting food in a tin can to help it last longer."
"That's not natural," Malfoy said in disgust as he stepped back from the objects in Harry's hands before looking up at the rows upon rows of canned food. "Why do muggles can everything in sight?"
The Gryffindor rolled his eyes. "Just because you're used to your spaghetti served on a silver platter-"
"At least it's not served in a can."
Harry groaned, putting the two cans back on the shelf. It looked like he was stuck buying the actual ingredients to make spaghetti.
Moving further down the aisle, Harry paused to pull two more items off the shelf. "Malfoy, do you like creamed corn or string beans?"
"Are they canned?"
"Yes."
"Neither," the Slytherin sniffed, looking away in disdain.
Shaking his head, Harry tossed the corn into the cart before moving on to the frozen foods section.
"Alright Malfoy, any preferences?" Harry asked, stopping before one of the many plexi-glass doors.
"Preferences for what?"
Harry pointed inside the refrigerated unit. "Food."
"That's food!"
"They're frozen dinners," Harry explained.
"Frozen! Potter, you can't possibly expect me to eat frozen food!"
"Of course not. You microwave them first. You don't actually eat them frozen."
Malfoy looked into the freezer next to him and stared at the rows of tiny cardboard boxes displaying pictures of their contents. Even the advertisements looked cheap!
"I refuse to eat that rubbish."
"Well, until I get more money into my muggle account you don't have much of a choice. Now would you like the Hungry He-Man roast beef, the Mighty Muncher's chicken pot pie, or the pizza?"
The blonde's ears perked at the last choice. "I'll take the pizza."
With a nod, Harry headed over a few steps and pulled the door open.
"Wait, is the pizza frozen too?" Malfoy asked, slightly shocked.
"Yeah…"
"Then I don't want it."
With a sigh, Harry grabbed the pizza anyways and tossed it into the cart.
"Hey, I said I didn't want it!" Malfoy protested.
"Well, I want it, and I know the second you get hungry, you'll want some as well," Harry said as he pushed the cart out of the frozen foods aisle. "Now, if I actually cooked you spaghetti tonight, no can or anything, would you eat it?"
The Slytherin thought for a moment. "Yes."
Harry grinned, feeling quite pleased that he was able to find something the blond would actually agree to eat. Turning down the appropriate aisle, he picked up a bag of noodles.
"Potter, what are those?" Malfoy asked as the bag was placed into the cart.
"The noodles for the spaghetti."
"What are they all skinny…" Malfoy poked at the bag, "…and crunchy?"
"They're dehydrated. You can't honestly expect them to be sitting there cooked," Harry answered as he went about grabbing other needed ingredients.
"Dehydrated! Are you telling me muggles go off dehydrating their food!"
"Of course. It would go bad otherwise. Besides, I'm pretty sure muggles aren't the only ones who do this. You should try visiting your kitchens once in a while before your meals are ready."
"I changed my mind," Malfoy said, attempting to cross his arms and failing miserably. "I don't feel like spaghetti tonight."
"Too late. You no longer have a choice in the matter," Harry replied airily, continuing with his shopping.
"What? But you said I could choose!"
"That was before you got all picky. What does it matter how the food is packaged as long as it looks and tastesedible after cooking?"
"It's all about quality, you plebian. I'm sure such a term is known even here in the muggle world," Malfoy said as he was dragged along to the checkout aisle with the cart.
Harry went back to ignoring him.
Realizing he was no longer receiving the attention he so highly deserved, Malfoy huffed and gave his bound wrist a fruitless tug before turning his attention to the magazine rack as Potter went about emptying the cart.
'The Anti-Christ is Here!'
'Aliens Made My Cow Explode!'
'Dust Bunnies Tried to Eat My Baby!'
"Potter, I though muggles didn't know about magic," Draco said, looking over the bizarre covers of the magazines.
"They know about it, they just don't believe in it. It's our world in general they don't know about," Harry said as he put the last of the items on the conveyor belt. "Why? Oh. Those are just tabloids. Most of the stuff in them is made up."
"What makes you so sure?"
Harry paused. Malfoy did have a point. After all, wasn't it the flying car that made headlines back in his second year?
"Hey, what's this?"
Harry looked over to see Malfoy pick up a chocolate bar. "It's candy. That's a Snickers© barIt's made of chocolate, peanuts, and caramel."
"Really? And what's this?" Malfoy grabbed another bright package.
"Skittles©."
"And this?"
"100 Grand©."
Malfoy eyed the rest of the candy on the shelves for a moment before grabbing two of everything. "Potter, I want these," he proclaimed while struggling to keep it all from dropping with his one free arm
"What? I'm not going to buy all that! Are you insane?" Harry exclaimed as he stared at the pile of candy that was being dumped into the previously empty cart.
"You said I could choose! And I choose these!"
"Malfoy, you can't eat sweets for every meal. You'll get sick. I'll let you get two."
"No. I want them all. And if you don't get them for me, I'll eat them all right now, and you'll have to pay for them regardless," the blond argued, already grabbing the closest bag of M&Ms ©.
"Give me that!" Harry snatched back the bag. He glared for a moment before sighing and putting all the candy onto the conveyor belt with the rest of their items. He knew if he argued anymore they would end up fighting, and considering how tightly packed the line was at the moment, such an occurrence wouldn't be appreciated.
The sudden rattle of the cart as Malfoy jumped caused Harry to look up in annoyance. "Now what?"
The Slytherin sent Harry an irritated glance before turning his attention back to the conveyor belt, which was currently sliding their food forward. A small smile graced the Gryffindor's lips at how easily Malfoy was entertained before he finished unloading the last of the candy.
He then pushed the once again empty cart forward, startling the blond as he was forced to stagger along side, attempting to squeeze between the register behind him and the cart that was taking up a majority of the space.
"Potter!" Malfoy gasped out as he found himself trapped, unable to move any further.
Harry blinked, briefly wondering why the idiot didn't scoot back out if he didn't have any room before he remembered the fact that Malfoy's wrist was still attached to the cart.
"Right! Hang on," he said, looking around briefly as his thought process slowly caught up. "Excuse me, miss?" Harry asked the woman behind the counter. "You wouldn't happen to have a pair of scissors, would you?"
The woman ('Demitria' according to her name tag) looked up. "No, I don't. Why?"
"Well, you see, my…friend here has his wrist attached to the cart at the moment, and we have no way of setting him free."
Demitria blinked for a moment before her eyes shifted over to Malfoy and focused on his bound wrist. "What'd you tie him up for?" she asked as her hand moved to pick up the phone.
"Because he's a sadist and a bloody idiot to boot," Malfoy answered, his tone clearly indicating his plans for the Gryffindor's early demise.
"Can I have an associate bring a pair of scissors to the cash wrap?"
Draco nearly leapt out of his skin as he heard Demitria's voice from both in front of him and from just about everywhere else in the store. Bloody hell, he was going to kill Potter for not warning him about muggles' alternatives to magic. He had believed muggles were still trapped in the Stone Age due to their incompetence and because of this, his guard had been lowered.
He watched wearily as another worker approached the counter, carrying a large pair of scissors.
"Whotcha need 'em for, Dem?" the man asked as he handed the scissors over.
Demitria handed the scissors over to Harry, motioning towards Draco with her head. "This bloke here's gone and tied himself to the cart."
"Whotcha tie yourself up for?"
"I didn't," Draco growled as Harry wedged the scissors between the zip tie and his wrist. "This moron did."
"Well, why'd you let him?"
Eyes narrowed, Draco was about to let all hell break lose when Harry interrupted.
"These scissors are too blunt," he said, handing them back to the associate. "I don't suppose you have anything sharper?"
With a sigh, Demitria picked up the phone once again.
"Can I have an associate bring a knife to the-"
"I'll get it, Dem, don't worry," the man said, heading off.
"Oh, alright. Thanks!" Demitria called out before turning her attention back to the odd couple. "In the meantime I might as well ring up your groceries before the rest of the customers get impatient."
"I swear to Salazar, Potter, if you slice off my hand I'll cast a reanimation spell to make sure it strangles you in your sleep every night for the rest of your miserable life."
Harry chuckled at the threat. "Then I'll just have to be careful not to slice your dick off, won't I? Or else…err…never mind."
Draco scowled as the raven-haired boy began to blush at his own words. He hated muggles. Almost as much as he currently hated Potter. Seriously.