Short chapter, I know. I didn't really know what to write. But, things will hopefully get moving soon. Sorry for the shortness!
"He did what?"
"Ron, it's honestly no big-"
"He should be sent to Azkaban!"
"He didn't do - Ron… He, argh!"
"What's wrong, Harry?"
"I'm not going to bother," Harry sighed, placing his head into his hands. It was almost impossible to try and talk with Ron about this sort of thing. This sort of thing being how randomly it had been for Draco Malfoy to have walked down his street, seemingly out of nowhere. Then again, the topic was a Malfoy, and Weasleys and Malfoys had never actually gotten along, even after all these years. Still, looking up, he couldn't help but to grin at the confused look on the face of his friends head in the fireplace. "It's nothing really, Ron. Malfoy just happened to stroll down the street the other night when Janie and I were outside."
"You should have socked him a good one, mate, you know - for old times." Ron grinned. "And maybe cursed him a good one too. A few warts might not have been a bad choice either - oh, and maybe you could have turned his hair green… no, no.. pink. Yeah. I think that would have went over quiet nicely, if I do say so myself."
"Ron," Harry muttered into his hand slowly looking up.
"Yeah?"
"He's my ex boyfriend, not my ex worst enemy of all time."
"Oh, right," Ron's cheeks flushed. "Look, Hermione's calling me. I gotta go. See you and Janie in two months then?" Without waiting for a response there was a small pop, and when Harry looked up, he found that Ron's head had gone.
With a loud groan Harry threw himself back on the couch, covering his face with his left arm. Why him? Why, did somebody up there honestly mean to make his life a living hell, for all of the world to see? Or was it not enough that he could handle almost anything be problems with his once boyfriend? Let's see. Harry had gotten married. He had a daughter, whom he was now raising on his own ever since Luna had died. That was probably the funnier of all the things that had happened to him. He had married Luna Lovegood. Some things were better left unsaid. He couldn't even remember when he began liking Luna, only that it had begun after they had both left Hogwarts.
"As much as I'd love this to just be about sex," Draco drawled, trying not to let the seriousness creep into his voice. "We have to talk."
"Alright, have at it," the Gryffindor said, brushing water from his bangs as it began to start dripping water. "I'm all ears."
"Potter, you're an absolute thickhead sometimes," Draco said, though it was lacking his typical sneer, albeit the fact that he was absolutely tempted to use it. "I meant we. As in plural. As in You and I. Not just me," he folded his arms over his chest, shaking his head.
Harry groaned again, removing his arm from his head. It was taking all he had not to beat himself senseless at the moment. He was staring blankly at the ceiling, wondering just what he should do. He gave another groan he sat up, staring blankly at the fire, which seemed to be slowly dying out. Harry rubbed the back of his neck. He was at a loss. Actually afraid of what might happen, when all those years ago it was Draco who had been afraid, and Harry leading the way. Maybe time was finally coming back to bite Harry in the ass.
"Bugger," Harry grumbled as he finally got up, moving over to the nearest table. Pulling out a scroll of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink, he stared off into space for a moment, thinking of what he should do exactly. Finally, his hand started moving, and his neat scrawl was displayed on the parchment. A knot in his stomach formed as he looked down at what it was he had just wrote. And he had ever intention on sending it off as well.
Malfoy,
We need to talk. Meet me in front of the Three Broomsticks at four in the afternoon on Tuesday. I'll be waiting.
- Harry