He's Really Anal

Chapter Eight

"So who was it?" Professor Dessen sang. She walked through the portrait and toward the group standing in front of the balcony door. Ron and Hermione were helping Harry up while the Slytherins were laughing to the side. "Who were the first to- Harry you didn't try to go out there did you?" She bit her lip to keep from giggling.

Harry rubbed his forehead and started, "Well-,"

"Yes!" Pansy interrupted. "He walked into the wall. It was funny and it was hilarious."

"You know that's the same thing right, Pansy?" Draco teased.

"It's called emphasis, Dra-,"

"Alright Pansy, let's not add salt to the wound. So…" The professor looked around at them. "Who was it?" Blaise and Ron raised their hands. Professor's face fell. "Really?"

Blaise rolled her eyes. "Don't look so excited."

"Oh sorry," she apologized. "It's just…"

"What?" Draco asked exasperated.

"I bet on Harry and Blaise."

"Excuse me . . . you did what?" Hermione asked.

Dessen corrected herself. "It's not betting per se. It was more like a poll-,"

"With money as the prize?" Ron asked.

"Look, we're teachers, alright? Winner got bragging rights."

"What did the other teachers say?" Harry asked, curious.

Professor Dessen thought for a moment. "Professor McGonagall said Hermione and Draco and Professor Dumbledore said Pansy and Ron. You know, I think we were doing it in terms of the picture…" She muttered to herself.

"What about Professor Snape?" Pansy inquired.

"He refused to be apart of such 'frivolous nonsense,'" she grinned.

Blaise smiled. "He would say that."

Professor Dessen laughed, looking at her watch. "I have to leave but you keep up the good work. It's all for the best." With that, she exited through the portrait.

The room was silent after she left until Blaise playfully shoved Pansy. "Don't look at me like that Pans."

Pansy, who had been staring at Blaise like she had something nasty on her face and had no idea how to get rid of it, opened her eyes wide and said, "I have no idea what you're talking about-,"

"Ugh, you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"I haven't a clue."

Blaise stared at Pansy a long time before crossing her arms and staring at the floor. She whispered, "J'ai pense que tu étais mon ami."

Pansy stomped her foot, "I am!"

Blaise walked away, muttering, "Menteur." Liar

Pansy rolled her eyes and followed Blaise to the couches where they began speaking in rapid French.

Hermione tilted her head in wonder, "I had no idea you guys spoke French."

Draco opened his mouth to say a sharp comment when Ron cut him off.

"They're half French and Malfoy's full," he provided.

Hermione, Draco, and Harry stared at Ron, dumbfounded, particularly Draco. He didn't seem to like the fact Ron knew something about him that he himself hadn't disclosed. He blinked furiously at the redhead before joining his friends at the couches. A little while later, the six of them returned to classes. Break was over.

* * *

A week passed. Students were getting back into the groove of school. They got used to the homework, projects, and classwork. They even got used to the large portrait not too far away from the Great Hall, or at least, they stopped gawking and gathering around it whenever the six inhabitants came and left.

Quidditch practices also started, to the boys' dismay. The room was strategically placed so they could ear the Quidditch pitch yet it remained just out of sight. This "grounding" was just as cruel as it was unusual.

Even more strange was Blaise and Ron's behavior. For the most part, the two of them kept to their friends but there were clues to the change in their relationship. They would greet each other in the mornings and evenings. Blaise, on occasion, would greet him with her cheek kissing greeting, a gesture that would leave Ron's ears scarlet, Pansy and Draco seething, and Hermione and Harry all the more confused. The two of them went back to passing food back and forth to each other during meals and encouraged their friends to do the same. They all grudgingly complied, except Pansy, who appeared to have not forgotten Hermione's explosion their first night in their new quarters. Stranger still were evenings. Every night around ten, Ron would sit on the balcony and Blaise would join him after her shower where they would stay for an hour, sometimes two. It was perplexing, to say the least.

"Do you two fuck out there?"

"Pansy!" Blaise looked around, scandalized at the blunt question.

"What?" She shrugged. "It's just a question."

"Yeah, but you don't have to be so crude about it."

"You're turning red and have yet to deny it."

"We do not."

"Not what?"

"You know what."

"I'm slow. Spell it out for me."

Blaise rolled her eyes and scanned the room, still very flushed. She whispered, "We're not having sex."

Pansy shook her head. "I was afraid of that."

"You wanted me to have sex with him?" Blaise furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"Stop moving!" Pansy chided. She was sketching Blaise, who was sitting in the chair across from her at the homework table. She had just finished drawing Blaise's eyes, which returned to their normal size now that Blaise wasn't scrunching them. She sighed, "It's not that I wanted you to be fucking," Blaise winced. "It's just something that I could understand. We're sexually frustrated teenagers. It's only natural. You and Weasley just talking…aren't."

Blaise glanced over at her friend, careful not to move her head. "Why?"

"Because…" Pansy trailed off, looking to the side as she tried to find the words. "Because it's like there's no…motive, you know? You're not just humoring him to get into his pants. It's like you actually enjoy his company or something." She stared at the topic of their conversation, who was doing homework with his other friends on the couches. Draco was sitting in the chair beside Blaise quietly reading, but probably listening to the conversation.

Blaise shrugged, "I don't know. He's not so bad once you get to know him. It's weird. He's not like I thought he'd be. You guys should try to make an effort, really."

Neither Draco nor Pansy responded but she knew they heard her. Pansy resumed her sketching and Draco finally turned the page he had been stuck on since the conversation started.

* * *

"WHAT THE HELL?!?!"

Five heads swiveled to see a fuming Draco poke his head out of the bathroom. "Would everyone come into the bathroom?"

Ron looked down at the steaming, mouth watering breakfast before him and then back at Draco. "What for-,"

"Just do it!"

They left the dining table and walked into the bathroom. Draco stood by the middle skink, tapping his fingers on the counter while waiting for them to file in. He ran his hands through his hair. "Okay," he took a deep breath and looked each person in their face. "Who did it?"

The Gryffindors looked at each other in confusion.

"Who did what?" Ron asked.

Draco narrowed his eyes and pointed to the middle sink. "That," he spat.

They studied the sink but couldn't find anything wrong with it. It was sparkling clean, due to the House Elves' nightly cleaning. It had toothpaste beside it and everyone's toiletry bag neatly stacked along the counter.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

Draco exclaimed, "Are you blind?" He pointed at the sink. "Who the fuck used my toothpaste?!"

Harry looked startled, "It's just toothpaste."

Draco whipped his head and pinned his gaze on Harry. "It was you, wasn't it?"

"You don't know that. Zabini and Parkinson used the bathroom last night-,"

"Blaise and Pansy know better. Why did you use my toothpaste? Don't you have your own toothpaste? Why would you use my toothpaste? You didn't even ask." His anger made these questions and subsequent questions come out in quick procession.

"I didn't think-,"

"No, you didn't thin. Why did you use my toothpaste? Better question, why did you use my toothpaste and then not put it back the way you found it?"

"Ididn'tthinkitwouldbeabigdeal," Harry rushed to avoid being cut off again.

"Excuse me?" Draco's eyes widened to double their size. "It is a big deal. I'm allowed to make a big deal. Why? Because it's my toothpaste, my toothpaste that you just- just- stole like some common thief!"

"What!"

"Yeah, I called you a thief. Don't like it? Don't steal my shit and cover up so sloppily. I'm a lefty. Do you hear me? A lefty!" Draco wagged his finger at Harry.

"What does that have to do with- I really didn't think it would…matter…" Harry trailed off, staring at Draco, who was looking around himself like he was lost and trying to find directions to Why-the-hell-did-Harry-use-his-toothpaste?! Land.

"Let me tell you why it matters. First of all, it's not even yours! But whatever, I don't really care about that. I do care about what you did to it. I'm a lefty, Potter, a lefty! I always put my toothpaste on the left side of the sink because of my left-handedness. That way, I can grab the toothpaste with my left hand and put it on my toothbrush located in my right hand." Draco simulated his words which would have been funny if he wasn't so angry.

"Then look at it! Do you see that? It's all shriveled up because you clenched your fist around it. What kind of monster manhandles toothpaste like that?! Would you do that to Granger? Exactly. What the hell did my toothpaste do to you? What was so bad that you felt the need to squeeze it like that- OH! From the middle I might add. Who squeezes the tubes from the middle? Do you also read books from the middle because that makes as much sense and- WHERE IS THE CAP, POTTER? This is a bathroom! Feces and urine particles are floating all over the place time all the time. Have you lost your mind? Fix this! Find the cap. Now, I want you to squeeze the tube so the top part comes out. Merlin, it was just laying open on the counter. Goodness knows what's gotten in- what did I tell you about squeezing form the middle? The bottom! There, it fixed your stupid fist print. Give it to me. Now get out." Harry was barely out of the bathroom before the door slammed shut behind him.

Harry looked so confused that Pansy rolled her eyes and shoved him at the dining table. "Walk it off. It helps."

They took their seats at the table and the Gryffindors still looked stunned. Harry looked at everyone, "What just happened? I thought he was going to hex me."

"He might have," Pansy piped up, helping herself to sausage. "He's been known to do that."

"What's wrong with him?" Ron asked. "Seriously a normal person doesn't act like that."

Blaise shrugged, "He's really anal."

Harry and Ron shared a look. Ron leaned forward and whispered, "But I thought he dated Parkinson Fourth Year?"

Pansy scrunched her face in confusion. "So?"

Ron kept looking back at Harry and then Blaise realized the misunderstanding.

"Retentive, Weasley! He's anal-retentive. He likes things a certain way, particularly his bath stuff. He's not gay," Blaise laughed.

"Oooooh," Harry and Ron said in unison.

She smiled, eating a piece of fruit. "Just get ready, Potter. He's not going to let this go for a long time."

And he didn't. Draco came out of the bathroom clean and more subdued. He sat down at the table while Hermione grabbed her bathroom things. He ate his food slowly, alternating dirty looks and sharp comments aimed at Harry.

Harry asked, "Could you pass the eggs?"

Draco glared, "Why bother asking? Why not just grab it in your plebian fists and eat from the middle of the bowl?!"

Harry ogled at the blond. "That doesn't even make sense-,"

"You know what also doesn't make sense? What you did to my toothpaste. You desecrated it."

"I did not-,"

"Desecrated!" Draco said with a final tone.

It continued like this throughout the day. During study break, Harry ran out of ink in his well. He looked up to find Draco gazing at him…again. He shook his head and dipped his quill into Hermione's ink well when he heard-

"Caught in the act! You just don't quit, do you? Look at you…you didn't even ask! You're a selfish wanker. You know that? This isn't Potter World, okay? You don't own everything, okay? You can't just take things without asking! Why'd you bother dipping it from the top? Why not just dip your quill in the middle. That's how you like it, isn't it? The middle?"

At dinner time, Harry finally snapped. He had endured the comments and the looks all day. He went to take his bath and he could feel Draco's eyes following him across the room and into the bathroom. As he shut the door shut, he heard Draco shout, "Don't touch my things, Potter!"

When he finished in the bathroom, Draco rushed inside and inspected his toothpaste and, for good measure, his hair products. He came out of the bathroom and drawled, "I'm surprised that Potter didn't take my things again because he has got to be the most selfish and arrogant person I have ever-,"

"I'M SORRY!" Harry yelled. He walked up to Draco and shook his shoulders. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have touched your toothpaste. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I won't do it ever again. I promise I'll buy you a new one. I'll do anything- just SHUT UP!"

Draco blinked at Harry while Pansy and Hermione looked on in fascination. He didn't know what to say to Harry but was saved from finding a retort by the flashing light from the door.

Harry, Draco, Pansy, and Hermione stared dumbly at the door to see the locks Harry and Draco and Draco and Harry click fully open. Pansy and Hermione looked back at the two boys.

Draco cleared his throat and pushed Harry's arms off his shoulders. "Well…good!" With that, he stuck his nose in the air and stormed off to the balcony. After a moment's hesitation, Harry followed suit.

Author's note: So that was chapter eight. I know it's short but I wanted to end like that. I don't know if you found it funny but I did. I always find it hilarious when I play it in my head. I couldn't tell you the number of fights I've had with my brother about the same thing and he'll say, "Do you hear yourself? You're arguing about toothpaste." Anyway, chapter nine will be up in a week. Any guesses as to who will become friends next? And over what? You guys are great. Keep reading!