Smokin' Hot

*


Harry’s head slipped from his hands and he hoisted it back up, staring unseeingly out the front window of the shop. Beside him, a loud parrot squawked at him. He glanced at its cage balefully but made no move to do anything.

His elbows slipped on the counter and he nearly fell. He sighed loudly, having no energy to do anything.

It had been a week and a half since Draco had thrown him out of his house. Harry had tried to talk to him repeatedly over the last week with no success. Draco didn’t want to talk to him at all.

This left Harry very much alone. Without Draco, and with Hermione and Ron still not talking to him (not that he’d done anything to fix that), he had no one. He spent his lunch hours in the library, sifting through random books with no particular point.

If the lunch hour was bad, it was nothing compared to English class where he was stuck between Hermione, who stared at him throughout the entire lesson and Draco, who pointedly ignored him. He didn’t know what to do. Draco wouldn’t listen to his apologies and he dared not go to Hermione and tell her what happened. No doubt she would gloat and lecture him about how she’d been right all along.

He preferred to keep to himself, sitting quietly and waiting for the class to finish and school to end. He avoided the Dursleys as much as possible, knowing they would love know he’d been rejected by a guy.

Another problem was the matter of his poetry project. He and Draco had never decided on a last poem, and the presentation was just a few weeks away. He’d tried talking to Draco with no luck.

Draco, it seemed, wanted nothing to do with him. He pretended Harry didn’t exist and went back to his old habits. Harry saw him emerging from the boy’s bathroom one day with Blaise, both looked sated, which only made Harry’s stomach clench.

He knew he wasn’t supposed to feel this way. This was what Hermione had warned him against in the beginning. He hated admitting she was right, but she had been. Without his knowledge, he had somehow fallen for Draco Malfoy. He had known he wasn’t supposed to, that this was all just supposed to be fun and not serious.

He wondered if Draco felt at all the same or if he really didn’t care for him at all and it had just been some big game. Thinking back to what Eva had told him so long ago and Draco’s reaction the other day, he wondered if Eva had been telling the truth.

Maybe Draco had done this all as a trick. Maybe he didn’t care. He didn’t like the feeling he got when he thought about Draco using him. He wondered if Hermione was right on that as well. He just couldn’t bear to think that she’d been right about everything and he so wrong.

But even if Draco had been using him, Harry felt there had still been something there in the end.

Harry sighed again, glancing at the yellow boa that lay curled in the large tank next to the register. He thought it might be easier to be a snake. Everyone was afraid of you so nobody bothered you.

“Harry,” a voice brought Harry to his senses and he looked up to see Hagrid standing next to him. “You feelin’ alrigh’?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just tired,” Harry replied, sitting up straight and reaching over for a mouse to feed to the snake.

“Well, you wan’a go home?” Hagrid asked, looking concerned.

“No, I’m fine. I’ll stay,” Harry said quickly. He’d much rather stay there than go home to the Dursleys. Besides, he needed as much money as he could get. The University was getting more and more expensive as he went along it seemed.

Hagrid looked uneasy for a second. “Alrigh’,” he agreed finally, still looking at Harry closely. “Why don’ you feed Sherbert,” he said, indicating the sugar glider that was sitting in a tall cage next to the wall.

Harry nodded and slid off his seat, going in the back and grabbing a few things to feed the glider.

He came back out and walked over to Sherbert’s cage, opening it and put a few pieces of fruit in her bowl. She made a clicking noise and jumped over to the branch nearest him.

He held out his finger and she grabbed onto it with her tiny paws. He rubbed her soft neck and watched as she let go of the finger and grabbed a piece of food. Sighing, he took out his hand and closed the door.

He turned and heard the tinkling of the front door. He turned around, intending to greet the customer but his smile faltered as he saw Ron pushing open the door, looking around carefully.

Ron was always tentative about visiting Harry at work. He liked Hagrid fine, but all the different animals seemed to irk him. He always steered very clear of the arachnids.

Harry didn’t greet Ron, but instead walked back to the counter and sat down. He watched Ron wander through the aisles, making sure to keep away from all the cages that lined the walls. He let out a little squeak as he passed the dark area where the spiders were kept. Speeding up, he passed it quickly and approached the counter slowly.

Harry kept his eyes down, pretending to be interested in a magazine containing information about the new “hot” exotic pet. Apparently this year it was the Alpaca.

“Harry?” Ron’s voice was tentative as he reached the counter.

He had come on his own, wanting to talk to Harry alone. He knew he couldn’t bring Hermione along or he would never get to. He had spent the past month listening to how stubborn Harry was being and how stupid he was to believe Malfoy.

To tell the truth, Ron was getting tired of Hermione huffing every time Harry walked past them in school without so much as a glance.

Harry made no sign that he’d heard Ron other than flipping the page a little harder than was necessary and ripping the corner.

“Harry, I’m not mad at you. Will you listen?” Ron asked. He’d been missing Harry. It didn’t matter to him that Harry was somehow involved with Malfoy, no matter how much Hermione seemed to dislike him.

Harry sighed and looked up finally, meeting Ron’s eyes.

“Good,” Ron said. “I don’t know what’s going on, Harry, but I’m not mad at you. So can you stop being mad at me?”

Harry was hit with a sense of guilt as he looked at Ron. It wasn’t Ron’s fault. He shouldn’t be taking out his anger on him. “I’m not mad at you, Ron,” he sighed. “I’m upset with Hermione, and Draco’s not talking to me.”

“Draco? As in Malfoy?” Ron asked carefully. He’d noticed, with Hermione’s intervention, that Harry and Malfoy hadn’t seemed on the best terms for the last few weeks.

“Yeah,” Harry said slowly. “Sorry I didn’t tell you, but it doesn’t matter anyway now.”

“What happened?” Ron asked, wanting to be sympathetic but at the same time, not really wanting to know the details.

“I don’t know,” Harry sighed. “I told him something Hermione said and he kind of took it the wrong way, and now he won’t listen to me.”

“Hermione says she thinks you’re in love with him.”

“Love is a bit strong,” Harry said, scoffing. “I’m only seventeen.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what she thinks.”

Harry sighed again. He felt better, talking to Ron. He was glad Ron wasn’t angry at him.

“What else does she think?” he asked.

Ron paused, thinking. “She thinks he’s a right evil git, and you deserve better.” It sounded like he was quoting her and Harry smiled for a second. “She says he’s only popular because everyone’s afraid of his dad. And she thinks that he’s going to kill himself if he keeps smoking.”

Harry laughed for a moment. “She thinks all that, does she? Well, she’s certainly got him down.” His tone was sarcastic.

“I don’t know if she believes it all, but I do think she wants you to be happy,” Ron said hopefully, hoping Harry might consider forgiving her.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Which is why she hates the guy I like.”

“She just… doesn’t like him, I don’t know.”

Harry shrugged. “Not like it matters anymore. She can hate him all she wants ‘cause it’s over.”

Ron didn’t say anything. He could tell Harry was unhappy with the way things had gone, but he didn’t know any way to fix it.

Harry sighed, getting off the stool and walking around the corner. “Well, Ron, would you like to meet Kiara? Just came in yesterday.”

“Who’s Kiara?” Ron asked carefully, eyeing Harry suspiciously.

Harry just smiled. “A tarantula.”

“No!” Ron yelped, jumping away from Harry. Harry started laughing and Ron scowled. “That’s not funny, Harry.”

Harry just laughed, feeling marginally better now that he had Ron back on his side.

**

Harry sat in his bedroom that evening, his poetry book open on his stomach as he gazed at the ceiling of his room. Next to him was his bag, full of books and papers and pieces of homework that needed to be done.

He wasn’t doing any of it, though. He had tried calling Draco and gotten the voicemail each time. He thought Draco was ignoring his calls.

He hadn’t left a message, though, only sighed and hung up each time it happened. He had no desire to leave a message that would never be returned. He didn’t know what to say anyway. Anything he might have said would seem stupid and inadequate.

Instead, he was lying on his bed, having sat silently through dinner, trying to ignore the Dursleys hints at the fact that he’d been “dumped.” He didn’t really think Dudley was one to talk considering the fuss he’d made when Eva had left him.

Harry sighed and the book slid off his stomach, landing with a small thud on the floor. He didn’t bother to retrieve it, just let it rest there as he considered his life. He wondered if Draco felt the same way or if he was just fooling himself to think that.

He lifted his head as he heard a soft clatter on the window. He disregarded it for the moment until he heard another one. Getting up, he walked over to the window, sliding it open and sticking his head out. He saw the outline of a girl standing on the ground. She made a sign indicating that he should come down.

He hesitated, not knowing if he should. Then the girl moved and he saw a glimmer of something on her stomach. It was Eva.

He closed the window and slipped on some shoes. Creeping down the stairs, he ducked past the entrance to the living room where Vernon and Petunia were watching the evening news.

He snuck outside, closing the door as quietly as he could. He crept through the shadows to the side of the house where Eva was waiting, standing just outside the light of the yellow streetlight.

Behind her, Harry could see the outline of an expensive-looking car. Harry moved forward cautiously, wondering why she was here.

“Harry,” she greeted him coolly, not bothering to use a quiet voice.

“Eva, what are you doing here?” Harry whispered. “Blaise isn’t here, is he?”

“Of course not,” Eva scoffed. “I’m here to explain something.”

Harry was suspicious. “You are?”

“Okay,” she said, “so obviously I’m not the good girl your relatives think. I’ve probably spent too much time around Draco. I was sent here originally by Draco to see how open you might be to some messing with. I know you’re thinking Draco used you, right?”

Harry paused. “I’m not sure.”

“Well, it really wasn’t supposed to be that. Really, he just wanted you to leave him alone.”

“Does Draco know you’re telling me this?”

“What do you think?” Eva replied, raising an eyebrow at Harry. Harry didn’t say anything and she continued. “So, Draco usually doesn’t care when his little trysts end, but your accusal—“

“I didn’t accuse him of anything!” Harry interrupted her indignantly.

She rolled her eyes. “Well, whatever you did, it affected him. He won’t stop talking about it. It’s getting really annoying. Even cigarettes don’t distract him anymore.” She shook her head and sighed. “He won’t admit it, but I think he likes you.”

“You do?” Harry asked hopefully.

“Yeah, but it’s not going to help you at all. He’s too stubborn to admit it, and he would never cave for a pretty face.”

“Then what do I do?” Harry asked woefully.

“I’m not going to think of everything,” Eva said dismissively. “You’ve just got to prove to him that you’re different.”

“That’s so easy…” Harry said sarcastically.

“You’re halfway there already,” Eva said, shrugging. “You’ve got him thinking about you. It’s more than a start.”

“But—“

“I’m not saying anymore,” she interrupted him. “You’ve got to do this on your own.”

“But—“

“Goodnight, Harry,” she said with a smirk. She turned then, without answering any of Harry’s questions, and headed back to her car, slipping in the driver’s seat and taking off into the night.

Harry was stunned for a moment at all that had passed. Eventually, he turned and went back to the house, sneaking up to his room and collapsing on his bed again, more thoughts than ever swirling around his brain.

At length, he reached down and grabbed the poetry book, leafing through it. He stopped as he came to a poem near the back. His eyebrows furrowed as he read it and a thought struck him. He’d found the perfect poem for their project, and the perfect one to prove to Draco what he meant to him.

Smiling, Harry lay back on his bed, finally feeling like something was going right and getting Draco back was merely a week away.


~~**~~


A/N: Almost there! please review!