A/N: Right. So, I realize the name might be too cheerleader-ish (my best friend said so). When I was in grade school, my friends and I made up characters for ourselves that had the initials "HP". So. Yeah. Mine was called Heather Parker, and my ex-friend's was Hallie Pother. Enjoy!

Heather spent her Saturday sipping butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks with Draco Malfoy. She was surprised to be with him, but it didn't last long.

"Hmm, the steak maybe… But I'm not that hungry. I'm not in the mood for soup too. Damn, but I'm sort of hungry. Damn stupid idiot stomach…" Malfoy rolled his eyes at her dithering. "Hmm, oh they have potatoes, those will work." She raised her hand, and Madam Rosmerta instantly came, notepad in hand.

"Well, well, Heather darling! How nice of you to drop by! Do give my love to your dear mother... And you're here with Draco! Well, well…" her voice trailed away. She nodded significantly to herself. Draco ignored her, and looked away.

"It's good to see you too, Madam Rosmerta. Business is booming, I hope." She grinned at the centerpiece, a glass vase with changing iridescent patterns, stuck with a single daisy. "These vases are very nice." She glanced at Malfoy and caught him glowering at her making small talk, which made her grin widen.

"Why thank you, dear, got a good bargain at the flea market at Kirkwood Street, maybe you'd like to stop over there before going back to Hogwarts. Now then, what will you have?" Madam Rosmerta's smile was cherry red.

"I'd like some of your mashed potatoes and more butterbeer, please," said Heather.

"Accio butterbeer!" Madam Rosmerta summoned a fresh bottle of butterbeer in front of her. "I'll be a minute with your potatoes, dear," she said, and glided away.

"You are such a fucking bitch, Parker," Malfoy told her once Madam Rosmerta was gone.

"Same to you," Heather replied unconcernedly. "Now, what did you drag me here for? Just to say that? Because you know you can do it back at school. In front of everyone, if you want. During breakfast, if you want to ruin everyone's day. You have to – "

"Shut up," Malfoy cut her off. "You know, you shoot your mouth off like that, someone's bound to make you pay for it."

"Your concern is touching, and I will certainly consider it." She paused for five seconds. "No thanks." She piled her hair on one shoulder.

Draco was steaming. She was just so infuriating! If only she could stop talking too much and just fucking shut up, she would be semi-bearable. He was having trouble holding a decent conversation with her without having to resort to taunts, snide remarks, and cursing.

He watched her as she took a sip of butterbeer. When she had her mouth shut, nobody would have suspected it was full of barbed wire. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he glared at her back. They were like that for a full three minutes until Madam Rosmerta came with a plate of fresh mashed potatoes. The steam hung in the air for a moment before disappearing.

She offered her plate to him. "Want some?" she asked, like they weren't just glaring at each other several minutes ago.

"No thanks," he said coldly.

"Your loss," she shrugged, and began eating. After her first bite, she scrunched her eyes and smiled, taking a deep breath. The blood rushed to his head. "This is really great, better than home. Go on, have some." She pushed her plate towards him.

He reluctantly scooped a forkful. She was right – they were delicious. He didn't say so, though. He ate another forkful, and another. Soon, they were wordlessly sharing the plate.

When they were finished, she pushed it away. "So," she said, tenting her fingers. "What did you really bring me here for? If it's blackmail, no thanks – I'm not in the mood."

"I told you, Parker," he said, annoyed. "Just to tell you how much of a bitch you are."

"Only for that?" she looked amused. "And I already told you, you could have just told it to me, in front of everyone, just so you would look less pathetic. And why didn't you bring your little friends with you?"

"They're all out," he muttered, looking away.

"Really?" she said, sounding delighted and amused. "Crabbe and Goyle?"

"Detention with McGonagall," he said through gritted teeth.

"Pansy Parkinson?"

"Couldn't find her, couldn't stand her anyway."

"Zabini?"

"Couldn't find him too. You're the only one left."

"Maybe he's with Parkinson," she speculated.

He paused. "That's a thought." He imagined the two of them together, but all he could come up with was a locked door and suspicious sounds within.

"Wait, what do you mean, I'm the only one left?" she asked curiously.

"Just that," he shrugged. "Look, are you done interrogating me? Can we go now?"

"I'm the only one left of what? You're not my friend," she insisted.

"Look, Parker," he said, grabbing her wrist. "Like it or not, you're in my circle."

She raised an eyebrow. "That's really gross. What should I do to relieve myself of that dubious honor?"

"When I say so," he snarled, irritated. "Now, let's go." He threw some galleons and sickles on the table and yanked her to her feet.

"Hey," she said, sounding outraged. "You better hope you left some bruises there, or I'll make you sorry." She didn't wriggle out of his grip, though, and he ignored her.

They marched out of the shop and into the bitter December cold, with him still gripping her wrist. "Let's go to Honeydukes," he said, and he pulled her to its direction.

"I feel like a naughty child," she remarked mildly, pulling her scarf tighter with her free hand.

At her remark, a mental image of him looking down at her while she was face down on his lap filled Malfoy's mind, and he dropped her wrist like a hot potato. "Just shut up, all right?" He growled.

"You know, I could just leave you if you don't start being nice," she protested. "I don't really have to put up with you, but I like ruining your day all the same."

They walked in silence for a few minutes. "So," she said brightly. "Do you like Pansy Parkinson?"

He looked at her in disgust. "What kind of question is that?"

"An interrogative question. Now answer, please."

"Are you always this sarcastic?"

"I eat it for breakfast. Now, do you like Pansy Parkinson?"

"'Course not!" He snorted. "I'd have to be daft. You eat sarcasm for breakfast? What the hell kind of statement is that?"

"So why d'you keep her around you?"

He ran his fingers through his hair, a gesture of exasperation. "'Cause," he said with exaggerated patience, "people are gonna think I'm gay if I hang out with boys all the time. Even Potter keeps that mudblood around."

She smacked him at the back of his head. "If you say that word around me again, I will hex you to oblivion, you miserable weasel." Her eyes blazed, and she had her wand ready. She sounded genuinely angry.

Malfoy was in no mood to have his afternoon spoiled further. "Whatever, Parker. Let's just fucking walk."

They walked in silence again, Heather still holding her wand.

"Why are you still holding your wand?" he asked after some time.

She glared at him. "Just in case you're being an asshole again."

He stopped and faced her squarely. "Look, you can put your wand away. I am not in the mood for your fuck bloody insults and sarcasm. I want a peaceful afternoon. God! I'll even call you by your stupid name. Heather – there. All right, Heather?"

"I'm not calling you by your stupid name, and don't call me by mine," she said stubbornly.

"Fine, then don't! All I want is a stupid nice afternoon," he hissed.

"If that's what you want, you shouldn't have taken me with you," she challenged. "Take me or leave me."

He let out an angry sigh. "I'm taking you." He grabbed her by the wrist again.

Stupid bloody contrary git! Heather fumed. He shouldn't have taken me to stupid Hogsmeade, and I'm not even his stupid friend! Now he wants to enjoy the afternoon, that fuck bloody idiot! What an idiot! She repeated this over and over again in her mind until she calmed down. She took a deep breath to relax herself, and she felt nothing again.

"Fuck bloody," she said to herself, "that's a good word. Where'd you get it?" she asked him.

Malfoy grunted.

"Are you really this passive-dependent that you'll take someone you don't like just so you won't be alone?" she asked.

He grunted again.

"Look, if you're going to answer like a fuck bloody pig, then I'll just go," she said irritably, and tried to jerk her wrist from his grasp, but his grip tightened. The truth was, she never could abide silence when she was with someone.

"Hey, that's my word," he said, glaring. After a heartbeat, he smirked at her. "Don't go using it too much."

She laughed, and smacked him on the arm. "Fuck bloody, fuck bloody, fuck bloody."

He let himself laugh too, and squeezed her wrist once before releasing it. She pulled back her sleeve and inspected her wrist. She brightened. "Hey! Wow! Look!" she showed him a small round purple bruise.

"Fuck!" He cursed under his breath. He looked at her with concern, but he was careful not to show too much. "Damn. I... I did that. I… Oh god. God. Does it hurt? Damn." He tried to take her wrist, but she refused.

"Oh, come on. Don't overreact! Don't you think it's cute?"

"Cute?" he repeated, staring at her blankly.

"Yeah! Look. Isn't it cute? See! So colorful!" She poked it. "Ow!" She poked it some more. "Ow! Ow!" She shuddered in delight.

Malfoy ran a hand through his hair. "Merlin, Parker. You are so fucking weird."