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Part Two: Sixteen

Chapter Nine: Over My Head

After a moment of hesitation, Harry answers. "Hi."

"Hi," Cho echoes. A long stretch of silence follows. "How was your day?"

"Uh, I'm grounded, so it could have been better," Harry admits. He tries to be flippant about it, but he's still kind of pissed off - mostly at himself, but also at his parents, naturally - and he's pretty sure he fails. "How was yours? Did you get home all right?"

"Yeah, Marietta picked me up. How was work?"

They go on like that for a while, making small talk while they both avoid the elephant along the phone line. Eventually, though, the suspense gets to him, and Harry firms his resolve.

"So, we slept together last night."

Cho's silence seems to last an age. Eventually, though, she admits, sounding awkward and hesitant, "Yeah, we did."

"Are… Are you okay with that?" Harry's got no idea what he's saying, really. He's pulling this all out of thin air, because Hermione, for once, had been at a loss, and Ron was too busy agonising over whether or not it would be appropriate to get to know his ex-girlfriend's best friend's identical twin sister, whether or not doing so would be considered a rebound, what kind of car he could buy with the savings he's accumulated over the last couple of years, and whether or not the car in question would be a decent chick magnet.

"Um, I guess? I mean, I had fun, but I don't think I'd want to do it again. Is that… I'm sorry if that offends you. I just… After last year, I'm sort of terrified of, you know, it happening again. I'm also just not ready to date again, and like I said, I'm too anxious to, you know…"

"I'm not offended," Harry assures her.

Truly, he's not. If this entire episode has taught him anything, it's that he can't deal with one night stands. As is, he's not sure how he managed with Marie over the summer. Maybe because she's on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, or perhaps because it wasn't so much a one night stand as it was a week of fun in the sun, or maybe it's something else entirely.

Either way, Cho's admission is a relief. He'd been concerned that she would expect or want more from him, and quite frankly, Harry doesn't have the emotional energy for that. He's still licking his Daphne Greengrass inflicted wounds, so to speak, and he's not ready to start dating anyone; not even Cho whom, despite everything, is still a friend.

"Is that something we need to worry about?" Harry asks hesitantly. He honestly hates himself for doing it - Cho has enough baggage as far as pregnancy is concerned, for the love of God - but he'd be irresponsible not to. He's pretty sure he's been careless enough for one weekend, and as far as these things go, Harry knows better than to leave things to his hopes and prayers. "I mean, I know we used protection, but…"

Cho exhales roughly, but her voice is steady when she answers, "I've been on the pill since May, and I'm religious about taking it, so it should be fine. I also took the Plan B pill this morning, so I think I've done everything possible to prevent it."

"That's… Good to hear?"

Cho gives a short, sharp laugh, "Don't worry. I know what you mean. Neither of us need that right now."

Harry exhales, and honestly, it feels like he can breathe again. "No, we don't. So… Are we good?"

"Yeah," Cho assures him, "We're good."

They don't linger on the phone for much longer. It's a bit too awkward, heavy with the awareness of what they'd done the night before, and Harry doesn't know about Cho, but he's already exhausted, and he doesn't have it in him to slog through a conversation like that. They might be 'good', but they'd still slept together, and it would take a bit of time to get back to the way things were.

Assuming it ever will, that is.

Rather than dwell on his phone call, and on the possibility that he'd lose a friend or two because of his actions the night before, Harry makes a start on his English essay. It's his mid-term project, due at the beginning of November, and Harry, quite frankly, doesn't have the time to procrastinate with it. It also serves as a good distraction from the other things on his mind, and by the time Mike calls him, Harry's completed half of what is turning out to be a very detailed outline.

"Hey, what's up?" Harry greets. He and Mike don't often call each other. Usually, they text, or chat on IM, or in person, but it's not unheard of, so Harry isn't concerned.

Turns out he should have been, though.

"Dude, you fucked my cousin?"

"Your cousin?" Harry frowns, perplexed and startled, "What?"

Mike is flatfooted on the other end of the line. "You slept with Cho, didn't you? That's what everyone's saying."

Great, that's exactly what he needs to hear; that everyone knows what he and Cho did last night.

"Cho's your cousin?"

"You didn't know?"

"Was I supposed to?"

"I thought everyone knew," Mike replies, "But never mind that. Did you sleep with her, or what?"

"In all fairness, I didn't know she's your cousin, but yes, Cho and I spent the night together." Harry doesn't bother lying. Mike can kick ass like no one else (their age) he knows, and Harry figures honesty might spare him the worst of Mike's temper.

He can dream, anyway.

"Dude!" Mike groans on the other end of the line, "Not cool, man. What the hell? Are you two together then, or…?"

"No," Harry denies, "We're not together. Why do you want to know, anyway?"

"It's fucking weird, man. My cousin, Jesus."

Harry rolls his eyes. He's pretty sure Mike's overreacting, but the only (first) cousin he's got is an estranged, overweight brute in England, so what would he know?

"I don't know what you want me to say," Harry admits, "I mean we were drunk, and it just happened…"

"I don't want to know," Mike interjects.

"Then why the hell are you calling me?" Harry exclaims. He slumps back in his desk chair, agitated, and already over this conversation, and the day in it's entirety. With less attitude, though, he asks, "What do you want, Mike?"

Mike doesn't reply for a while. Eventually, though, he asks, "Are you okay, man?"

"I'm fine," Harry answers, "Why wouldn't I be?"

Actually, he's pretty sure he's the farthest from 'fine' he's ever been, but he's not about to admit that. He's not even sure why he feels the way he does - things could certainly be a lot worse - but he can't shake it for the life of him.

"I just thought I'd ask. You just… Things are a bit crazy, aren't they?"

Harry sweeps a hand through his hair, and he can feel the exhaustion in his bones. "Yeah, I guess they are. Nothing I can't handle, though."

Mike is dubious. "If you say so, man. If you need help, though…"

If he needs help, he's certainly not going to ask Mike, who is probably even busier than Harry himself. He appreciates the gesture, though.

"Yeah, man, thanks. Appreciate it."

"No problem," Mike replies. He doesn't dwell on it, and instead changes the subject, "So, what's Glee Club like?"

Harry groans his displeasure. Apparently, his suffering isn't over.