Chapter Six
"So, uh, how's life with Fawcett?" Everyone was staring at them. Everyone. People were pressing their faces against the windows from outside just to get a glimpse at the spectacle. People were apparating from miles away, hoping to watch them. Leopold began to wish that Harry Potter did actually have the ability to use the killing curse with those cold green eyes of his.
"Fine," Potter said bluntly, pushing his butterbeer bottle between his index fingers. He was looking everywhere but at Leopold, that is, until he caught someone staring at them, then he'd hastily turn back to Leo. He sighed. "And how are you and Ernie getting on?"
"Wonderfully. Macmillan is a very smart guy. Had some words to say about you, as well." Leopold downed the rest of his firewhiskey and practically begged for another.
"They must not have been good or you wouldn't be mentioning it now."
"Your opinion of me is highly corrupted," Leopold replied, mildly offended. "It was quite the opposite, actually. He mentioned that you taught him some rather useful spells. Things of that nature. I wasn't really paying attention. Talks a lot, he does."
"Hm. I can see how that could be annoying." They lapsed into their third awkward silence. Leopold began making a list of places he'd much rather be than there. In a cage with a hungry dragon was surprisingly high on that list. It suddenly struck Leopold how long and arduous this was going to be if he and Potter didn't kiss and make up soon.
"NOT LITERALLY!"
"What?" Harry stared at him with a mixture of fear and confusion. As did a few people in their immediate vicinity.
"Did I really shout that out loud?" Leopold asked as he gulped down the firewhiskey that had just been placed hesitantly down in front of him and ordered another.
"Yeah, you really did." Harry eyed the now empty glass and looked as though he wanted to stop Leopold from drinking anymore, if only to prevent another confusing outburst.
"Embarrassing." Leopold leaned forward so as not to be overheard by all the straining ears in the building. "What I meant to say was we need to somehow make this work, Potter, or this is going to be a difficult couple of months. We don't like each other, that's a given. I suppose we got off on the wrong foot, so to speak—"
"You've told everyone you've spoken to that I'm intolerable."
"That's just a figure of speech."
"I think you may have told me that I'm intolerable."
"Oh, don't be so sensitive. I'm sure you've said many a harsh word about me to your friends as well."
"I try not to think about you when you're not near me. And when you're near me. Or at all."
"You're a mean drunk, Potter."
"I'm not drunk."
"All right, all right. Your hatred for me burns to such an extent that you blot out my existence. The thing is, I do exist and I'm supposed to be existing with you. Perhaps as a husband and wife crime fighting team. I don't quite know what Shacklebolt has in mind." Harry almost swallowed a mouthful of butterbeer through his nose as he attempted to stifle his laughter. Leopold smiled in satisfaction. Potter was far more human when he was genuinely laughing instead of snorting derisively.
"It's moments like that when I forget about how obnoxious you are," Harry said, laughter thick in his voice.
"Well, if you were around me more often, those moments would overcome the obnoxious ones." Leopold drank his newest firewhiskey a bit slower than the last ones. This was either because he was far too inebriated to do anything quickly or because he wasn't completely loathing being around Potter.
"That's good to know, at least," Harry smiled, making Leopold grin clumsily again. The bloke's smile was infectious for some reason. "I will agree that we inadvertently got off on the wrong foot. But you didn't make things better by slandering my good name."
"My friend, I don't believe there's anything on this planet that could slander your good name."
"I don't know, hanging around with the likes of you may do the trick." Leopold gasped, putting his hand to his chest. Harry leaned forward looking intensely worried. "What? What happened?"
"Did Harry Potter just make a joke?" Harry shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Let us toast to becoming friends."
"And our future husband and wife crime fighting business."
The toast was one of the last things Leopold could remember from that night. He sort of remembered hopping on a table with a few waitresses and dancing to the newest Weird Sisters song. And he could vaguely remember taking a line of firewhiskey shots with a kid who said he'd just left Hogwarts two month before. Leopold had decided that they needed to take a shot for every year the kid had been at the school. And he maybe remembered Potter dragging him out of the Three Broomsticks to a chorus of cheers and jeers from his drunken companions. But that was it. And he knew he had to have done a lot more than that because when he woke up the next morning with a raging headache and a peculiar aversion to light, his robes were torn, he was spooning a bottle of butterbeer, and he had no idea where he was.
"Oh dear god, why did I do that to myself?" he muttered, refusing to open his eyes again. He placed the cold side of the bottle up to his forehead and willed the headache away.
"I believe the second round of shots was for Kingsley Shacklebolt, but that may have been the third. All the other drinks you kindly had in honor of me." Leopold slowly turned his head in the direction of the voice, hesitating before opening his eyes. The room was fairly dark, though, and he was so grateful for it he would have given half the gold in his vault to keep it that way.
Harry was leaning against the doorframe in a pair of green pajamas with golden snitches splashed all over them. The sight made Leopold chuckle softly, an action which he regretted instantly as a wave of nausea threatened to overpower him.
"At least I thought of you during my debauchery. Although my downward spiral may have been caused by you as well."
"Another honor I will treasure for the rest of my life." Leopold had closed his eyes again, but he could hear the smile in Harry's voice. "Can I get you anything?"
"Anything that will get rid of this headache. The nausea I can handle for the time being."
"All right. I take it food is out, then."
"Oh Merlin, yes." Harry laughed softly, turning to leave the room. "Are we in Grimmauld Place, currently?"
"We are. I didn't know where you lived exactly, or else I would have taken you there. I hope you don't mind."
"I'd much rather vomit in someone else's house than my own." Harry smirked and left, presumably to grab a potion or whatever he had on hand to heal the pounding force that was trying to break through Leopold's skull.
Harry returned a few minutes later with a cup of Invigoration Draught and some toast. It was like seeing an angel. A messy headed, pajama wearing, bespectacled angel.
"I figured you'd want to eat eventually," he said, nodding at the toast. Leopold took the steaming cup and drank deeply. The effects of the potion took hold of him instantly and he felt as though he could possibly face the world now.
"Bless you, Harry Potter."
"Oh, so now you sing my praises. Quite a turn from being intolerable."
"A man can change his mind, can't he?"
"Well, as you're changing your mind, I'll be changing my clothes. You know where the kitchen is if you need anything. Or if you ask nicely, Kreacher could get it for you." Leopold wasn't sure if Harry was joking or not, but he nodded anyway and waved Harry out. Who or what Kreacher was didn't quite matter to him at the moment. What mattered was drinking the potion before the vomit that was threatening to come forth…came forth.
Once he reached the bottom of the cup, Leopold looked and felt significantly better than he had minutes prior. Curiosity replaced his stepped on by a giant feeling and he decided to venture out for some food more filling than a few pieces of toast, perhaps discover this Kreacher fellow and see if he could cook.
As soon as Leopold stepped out of the room, however, he realized he really had no idea how to get around in this very large and very dark house. The feeling that he'd suddenly be attacked from behind by something lurking in the multitude of shadows didn't help.
"Harry?" Leo stage whispered in a darkened hallway. For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to speak at a normal volume. "Harry Potter, boy who lived? Mr. Chosen One? I am rather uncomfortable in your dark and depressing house and require assistance. I fear that my Auror powers cannot save me here." Leopold heard a sound that was distinctly like that of a wardrobe closing and he headed in that direction. He came to a door labeled "Sirius" that was open slightly. He knocked before pushing it open.
Harry was standing in the middle of the room struggling into a maroon pullover and dressed only in jeans. His room was somehow flooded with sunlight, most of which seemed to gravitate toward him causing his tan body to glow vaguely in an eerily heavenly sort of way. He peeked out from underneath the pullover and looked at Leopold curiously, like a dog trying to understand human speech.
"What's up?" He asked, continuing to wrestle with the pullover. Words seemed to fail Leopold at the moment as he stared at Potter's sunlight enhanced torso. How did he get so muscular? Was it all the Quidditch? Perhaps Leopold should think of taking up the sport. Or any sport. Was the tan from Quidditch, too? Was it an all over tan? "Hello? Ackerley!" Potter threw a shoe at Leopold, suddenly making him realize that he had been staring at Potter long after he'd managed to put on the pullover and a pair of trainers.
Embarrassed, Leopold cleared his throat and averted his eyes.
"Sorry. I'm still feeling a bit nauseous. And it didn't help seeing your half naked body,"
"To be fair, you did barge into my room unannounced and uninvited."
"You always point out the small details, don't you, Potter?"
"Call it a flaw in my character."
"One of many." Harry grinned, strolling out of the room but not before "accidentally" bumping into Leopold on the way. Leopold's arm tingled as though he were suffering from the beginnings of a painful bout of frostbite. He stared at Potter's back before it was engulfed by the darkness of the hallway.
"I don't appreciate being insulted in my own house. Especially before I've had a proper breakfast," Harry said from the top of the staircase. Leopold hurried after him so as not to be stranded upstairs in Potter's desolate abode.
"You don't do indignant well. You need more feeling in it. Perhaps say how outraged you are at the injustice of being rudely insulted in your own dwelling on an empty stomach. Really dress it up a bit." Harry glanced back at Leo as they tromped down the stairs. He had that contagious smile on his confusingly tan face again.
"Wow. Your command of flowery words astounds me," he said with a laugh. Leopold felt himself smile and was glad that Potter went back to looking forward. He couldn't count on the inconsistent darkness of the house to hide it.
"I think we may need to hire a decorator. This house is on the brink of being unlivable."
"You complain so much, Ackerley, I wonder if you annoy even yourself."
"Sometimes. It depends on my mood."
"And besides, who is this 'we'? Last I checked this is my house."
"And the last I checked Kingsley Shacklebolt was unceremoniously throwing us together in a situation that would be otherwise hilarious if it were not happening to me," Leopold said, ducking as they passed under a display of shriveled house elf heads. Somehow the urge to vomit rose in his throat again.
"No, it's still pretty hilarious. In fact, I think it's more hilarious because of how much it bothers you."
"I'm glad my pain amuses you."
"Why are you so put out by it? Are you afraid you may grow to like me? Maybe even, Merlin forbid, become friends with me?"
"Oh don't flatter yourself, Potter. You have a lot to learn about the world." Harry raised his eyebrow and laughed bitterly.
"Do I, now? And what made the two years you have on me turn you all sage and knowledgeable, whereas I, after saving the wizarding world and indirectly, the muggle world, am completely ignorant?"
"It's not fair throwing world saving into it. Anyone can win an argument if he just happened to be humankind's savior." They reached the kitchen and Leopold flopped down in a chair, crossing his arms over his chest. Harry eyed him in slight irritation before calling for his house elf to make them breakfast.
"Ah, but it's the only tool I have, you see. I hate to lose arguments."
"The Chosen One is a cheater! I shall alert the Daily Prophet at once and demand the ministry take away your awards and accolades."
"But the awards and accolades are what I live for!" Harry exclaimed in exaggerated shock and fright. Against his better judgment, Leopold had to laugh over his plate of eggs and sausage.
"Well, I do appreciate your hospitality, Potter, however it is Saturday."
"Yeah. And?"
"On Saturdays, I visit my parents." Leopold shifted uncomfortably as Harry scrutinized him over the top of his glasses.
"Oh. Where do they live?"
"Brighton."
"Ah. Nice place," Harry replied, not quite looking at Leo. He started shoveling eggs into his mouth. Leopold noticed the change in Potter's voice, however could not say why it had happened.
"Yeah. Do you have anything planned for today?"
"No. I might go see Ron and Hermione later."
"Well that's ludicrous. Everyone should have plans on Saturday. Even if it's just planning to lie on the couch all day. How about this? My mother is, if I do say so myself, the most fantastic cook in all of England. She would love to feed one more person, she always makes too much food anyway when Stewart isn't home. Why don't you come visit them with me?" Leopold wasn't quite sure why he threw out this pity invitation; it just sort of slipped out of his mouth on its own accord. Nevertheless, Harry had taken care of him the night before and hadn't yet complained about it, he deserved something in thanks. Besides, Leo's father would love to tell people that the famous Harry Potter graced their little house with his presence. Harry continued to feed himself eggs for a moment before responding.
"No, that's all right. Thanks, though," he said, quietly.
Although Leopold hadn't intended on inviting Potter to his home, it stung slightly that the kid could so flippantly decline the friendly gesture without even giving Leopold the satisfaction of looking at him. But considering Leo had asked out of pity, he really had no right to be upset. Except he was. Very much so.
"Oh. All right then. Enjoy your Saturday, won't you?" Leo said through clenched teeth. He forced a friendly smile. "Thanks again for everything. I will see you at work on Monday." Without waiting for a reply from Potter, Leo turned and hurried out of the house. He wasn't sure why Potter's blatant rejection of his good deed was so irksome, he just knew that it was and that he would have given anything to punch Harry hard in the face. At the same time, Leo was slightly afraid that this rejection meant that Harry didn't want to be friends in the near future.
Harry Potter was a confusing creature and Merlin be damned, that was irritating.