Seven Days - Chapter 7
September 19, 1996. Friday.
“She cheated on me. I can’t believe that she cheated on me,” Harry whined, staring blankly into the mirror in his dorm room.
“It’s all right, mate. I’m still single,” Ron replied.
“Sod off, Malf… Ron? What’re you doing here? This is an H/D slash fanfic.”
“Yeah, well as your faithful second, aren’t I supposed to be really clingy and make annoying sexual advances cleverly disguised as supportive comments?”
“Oh, sod off, Ron.”
“She cheated on me. I still can’t believe that she cheated on me,” Harry whined, staring blankly into the mirror in the library.
“C’mon, Harry,” Hermione said. “You have to stop sulking about that Ravenclaw seeker. Don’t you want to study for your N.E.W.T.s? They’re only a year and a half away.”
“But how could Cho cheat on me? I’m Harry Potter. I’m The Boy Who Lived. I’m…”
“Really arrogant,” Hermione added.
“Oh, sod off, Hermione.”
“She cheated on me. I really still can’t believe that she cheated on me,” Harry whined, staring blankly into the mirror in the Slytherin dungeon.
“Oh no,” Malfoy stated gravely, “all of the Harry/Cho fangirls will be crushed.”
“There are no Harry/Cho fangirls,” Harry replied bitterly.
Draco gasped in feigned horror.
“Oh, sod off, Malfoy.”
[yes, later still]
“She cheated on me. I really, really, really can’t believe that…”
“WILL YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU NARCISSISTIC PRAT!” Draco bellowed.
Harry glared daggers at him. “As if you should talk.”
Draco smirked. “Yeah, well I’m about to. There’s something you should know.”
“What?” Harry asked, still sulking.
“Cho might not have cheated on you.”
“WHAT?” Harry replied, suddenly alert. “But Pansy…”
“There’s an informal agreement among Slytherins that we help one another get laid. Even though Pansy had gone bonkers, I have a sneaking suspicion that she might have been trying to help me by defaming my competition. After all, she orchestrated our first kiss.”
“Then why the fuck didn’t you tell me this yesterday?” Harry barked.
“Because you’re cute when you get all sulky.”
Harry glared at Malfoy. “Are you sure Cho didn’t cheat on me?”
“Well you could ask her… but then that would require a certain nonjudgmental respect for the opposite sex that you seem incapable of, Potter.”
“Did you just accuse me of being judgmental?” Harry asked. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black.”
“Umm, no, that’s just a really bad cliché. Now can we please watch this video again? I would rather not get deflowered by the long donged videoman.”
Draco popped the video into the VCR and played the tape in its entirety.
“That was really inspirational, Malfoy. D’you think Cho is out playing quidditch or in the Great Hall?”
Draco banged his head against the screen repeatedly.
Harry found Cho standing outside of the Ravenclaw Quidditch Locker Room.
“Cho,” Harry called out from across the field.
Cho looked up, annoyed. “I’m still mad at you,” she replied.
“Umm, may I ask you a quick question?”
“Perhaps,” she answered.
“Did you deflower Blaise Zabini… umm… a week ago?”
“How dare you ask such a thing, Harry? You’re an arrogant, judgmental, male chauvinist pig!”
“I’m sorry, Cho. I didn’t mean to insinuate that…”
“I cheated on you in the past week?”
“Yeah,” Harry replied sheepishly.
“Well, your timing’s off, sweetie. I think I defrocked Blaise a week from last Tuesday… at least ten days ago.”
“Harry please, you didn’t really expect me to wait until you were good and ready to put out. We dated for over a year, and all we did is hold hands and snog on rare occasions. Besides, you’re a terrible kisser, and I always thought you were a closet case. Harry, what’re you doing? Put that can of mace down! Don’t you dare point that thing at me! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”
“She cheated on me. She really, really, really, actually cheated on me.”
“I’m sure you could make things work out if you want,” Draco said.
“You know, you’re acting very supportive today, Draco. I’m shocked.”
“Well, begging for sex didn’t work, so I decided to try another tact. Besides, I can only tolerate so much of your whining.”
“Well, it was still sweet… and unexpected,” Harry said. He picked up the video, slid it in the VCR and then sat down next to Draco. The screen went blank and suddenly the boys were watching recorded static. Harry stared at the television as an image of a mysterious arch flashed upon the screen. Then he saw his Mum, as a redheaded teenager, brushing her hair in an antique oval mirror.
Suddenly Harry felt something warm press against his right hand. It was Draco’s hand and, ever so slowly, Draco intertwined his fingers with Harry’s fingers. Neither boy said anything, and they continued to pretend to watch the video when all the while they were both slightly freaked out about what was now happening between them.
The video showed a small bug land on Harry’s Mum’s shoulder. She swatted it away. Suddenly the videoman leapt on top of Harry’s Mum and began to pound her with his fourteen inch salami. At that same moment, Draco leapt on top of Harry and started kissing him madly.
“What the [kiss] FUCK are you [kiss] doing?” Harry demanded, pushing Malfoy off of him.
“Roleplaying,” Draco replied. “I figured we’d be better able decipher the secrets of the video if we act it out.”
Harry stared at him. “Am I a terrible kisser?” he asked plaintively.
Draco leapt on top of him again and started kissing him passionately. After about thirty seconds, Draco paused for a breath of air.
“Umm… no,” he said, flinging himself back on Harry.
Harry shoved Draco aside. “Now where were we? Oh yes, would you rewind the tape? I want to have a better look at that fly.”
“Which one?” Draco asked, massaging his zipper.
“The one on the bloody video,” Harry snapped.
“Are you sure you still don’t want to roleplay?” Draco asked.
Harry glared at him.
“I’ll take that as a maybe.”
Harry glared again.
“Okay, fine, spoilsport. That’s the thanks I get for complimenting you on your…”
“Draco…” Harry stated in a warning tone.
Draco gave Harry an icy stare, then rewound the video and sat next to Potter, who was clearly focusing more intently on the screen than on Malfoy.
“I don’t think that’s a fly,” Harry said, looking closely at the video.
“Wow Potter, you’re really insightful today,” Draco replied, still bitter. “Next you’re probably going to make some kind of comment about that arch.”
“Well, it looks awfully familiar,” Harry said. “But I just can’t place it. When did I last see an arch?”
Draco looked at him strangely. “So you actually think the flea and the arch are clues. C’mon, Potter. You’re so gullible…”
“Did you say that was a flea?” Harry asked.
“Well, it looks like a really fat flea,” Draco replied indignantly.
Suddenly, Harry grabbed the remote control and fastfowarded the video to the point where the awkward-looking teenage boy entered the room. Before the videoman pounced on that boy and shagged him senseless, Harry paused the video and squinted closely at the awkward boy’s face. There were faint scars gashed across it. It was Remus.
End of Chapter 7