IMPOSSIBLE
Chapter Three
Cool People Suck It Up
"Yeah, I'm really going to tell you, because it's your business, Potter." I said. I must say, I'm getting quite good at all this 'mysterious little cheeky bastard' thing. "You'd better hurry up, they'll be waiting for the Chosen Captain – the Boy Who Scored – whatever they call you these days." Crabbe and Goyle are on either side of me, disguised as girls for my convenience (honestly, they'll do anything. How they ever fell under the "ambitious and cunning" category, I will never know). I am currently working on my "destroy Dumbledore" plan. It's not going very well. I can't do it, I know I can't.
BEEPBADADEEPBEEPBEEP
I look, actually sort of frightened, around, then remember. My mobile. DUH! Let me explain:
A mobile is a little Thingamabob that you can communicate with. Edward introduced me to them. When it makes the funny short little beep, it means I was sent an owl through the little Thingamajig. When it makes the long little tune thing, it means I can press a little spot on the Communicator and then if I speak into it, someone else can hear me and talk back. It's pretty nifty. Like, patronus-owl-portable-things. I pull it out of my pocket. It's a little rectangle with buttons holding numbers and arrows and red and green things, and a little square that shows you stuff. The little square currently has the picture of an envelope and the words "YOU HAVE ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE". I click the big, round button and it shows me my letter.
Draco, it reads. Staying in a flat in Hogsmeade. Care for a visit? Ed.
Well, obviously! And I just so happen to have a spare moment. I mean, I'm supposed to be plotting, but…
luv 2, I write. I got a book out of the library entitled "The Mobile is mightier than the Sword". It's a book for teenage girls, but it has lots of texting and I'm picking up on some of the lingo. now kk? It takes me about ten minutes to figure out how to send the message, then he texts me back immediately. He's been playing Muggle for far too long.
You really have to stop reading teenage girl books. Hem hem? They have very good morals: like, don't be mean 'cause then it's going to bite the butt off your favourite new jeans. I explain this to him via Thingamajig. I think I'm going to name it that. It deserves a name the same way an owl does, right?
Are you coming or not? he writes.
Of course!
*
Over the course of time since my … epiphany, I have become more and more comfortable with it. I told mum, but I'm not telling dad. Even if he wasn't in Azkaban prison.
"Hurry up, Blondie!" Edward calls in his American accent.
"Slow down, Americano!"
"Hurry up, Starbucks Quoter!" As you can see, I need a life.
"Slow down … OLDIE!" He raises his eyebrow at me and even I'm a little bewildered at my lack of good comeback.
"Oldie, eh?" he asks.
"Yeah, you're like a total geezer!" I cry, attempting to sound like I meant to use that as an insult. There's a moment of silence where neither of say anything, then we laugh. He is really gorgeous when he laughs. We sit down on a bench out in front of the small children's playground next to the ice cream parlour.
"Hey Draco," he says.
"Yeah,"
"Tell me a secret." As a person-reader, I know this means he wants to talk about secrets, probably meaning he wants to tell me a secret but feels awkward just saying it. Unfortunately I don't have any secrets.
Well.
'I think I'm hopelessly and mortifyingly in love you' might make things a little weird.
"Erm…" I say, racking my brains for a secret. "I read teenage girl books?"
"That's no secret," I smile and roll my eyes.
"I … have never kissed a girl?" And, NO, for your information, I've never kissed a guy, either. "Your turn."
"I don't have any secrets," he says.
"Bull." He smiles.
"I've never kissed a girl," To tell you the truth, I'm shocked. He's been around for 94 years and he hasn't kissed a girl!?
"Honestly!?" I ask.
"Honestly." I just sit there, gaping at him. He looks at me as if he's expecting me to say something.
"How – Who – What?" A slight smile crosses his face. "How have you never kissed girl!?" My 'silent shock' stage has passed, and now I'm blabbering on before I even have time to process what I'm saying.
"How in the name of Merlin's saggy left bullock have you never kissed a girl!?" I continue. "How has a girl never kissed you?! I mean, surely someone must have at least tried! You're gorgeous! – " I finally realize what I'm saying and stop in my tracks.
"But then again, you're always hanging around me, so you're constantly outshone," I quickly add in my coolest 'I'm arrogant and don't tell me I'm not hot, 'cause you know I am, live with it' voice. Oh, the joys of being a cunning Slytherin like myself.
"It's okay, Draco," he teases. "I know I'm gorgeous." I smile. Everything's alright. It was close, but everything is all right.
"Your turn," he adds, nodding his head.
"Umm… I tried to befriend Harry Potter first year," I confess. He looks satisfied with this tid-bit of embarrassing information. "It's your go."
"Promise you won't tell anyone?" he asks.
" ' Course,"
"I … " he pauses, rethinking what he's about to tell me. "Like … a guy." My mouth drops open and I'm sure my eyes just bulged half a metre out of their sockets. I don't believe it. He must be messing with me. He can't like a guy, 'cause that means I have a chance with him, seeing as, you know, he's gay. Unless of course, he's in love with this guy. Bollocks. Shit on a stick. What am I going to do?
"Who?" I ask. He looks at me, his eyes unblinking, an unreadable expression on his face.
"You."