Draco woke up early the next morning. Harry was lying across his chest, using it as a pillow. He stirred and Draco wrapped an arm around him.
“Morning.” He said.
“Morning.” Harry mumbled.
“Where were you last night?”
“In the air.” Said Harry, still half asleep.
“You went flying?”
“What do you mean ‘Kind of’?” Demanded Draco.
“You were playing Quidditch alone?”
“No, with the kids.”
“Harry, please try to make some sense.”
Harry finally sat up a bit, Draco’s arm still around him.
“I want all four houses to get along so I invited them to the pitch last night for a big game of Quidditch.”
“And it worked?”
Harry smiled faintly. “Yeah. It was so good to just watch them all walking back up to the castle together, talking and laughing.”
Draco leaned back on the bed. “Wow.”
“I know. And McGonagall said it was impossible. You can’t tell any of the teachers though. This is between us and the students. You can come next time if you want.”
“There’s going to be a next time?”
“Of course. Every Friday at midnight.”
“The students are going to be exhausted today.”
“I know but it was worth it. And I bet they think so too.”
Harry showered quickly and got dressed. Draco, on the other hand, took over half an hour to just do his hair.
“Come on! You’re so slow!” Complained Harry.
“I’ll be ready in a minute.”
“Well hurry up!”
“You two fight like an old married couple.”
Harry jumped around in the direction that voice had come from. “Fred? What are you doing here?”
“Ever heard of privacy?” Called Draco from the bathroom.
“Thought I’d stop by.”
“Couldn’t you have stopped by at breakfast?” asked Draco.
The ghost ignored him. “George is coming by today. Got some employees covering for him at the shop.” He said to Harry.
“Great. When’s he coming?”
“Between breakfast and lunch. He’s staying for dinner as well.” He winked at Harry. “It’s been some time we haven’t cause some mischief here.” Fred wizzed out through the door.
Lessons went by slowly that morning. Harry couldn’t wait to see George. At midday he rushed out of the classroom and ran straight into the Weasley twin.
“Carful there Harry. You might ruin that perfect face of yours.”
“Comme off it. How are you? How’s Bill and Charlie? Charlie still in Romania?”
“Calm down Golden boy. I’m here all day. Plenty of time for questions.” George laughed. “Come on let’s get some lunch, I’m starving.”
“You sound just like Ron.”
“Yeah right. I’m cool and funny. He’s just Ron.” They started walking down the hallway to the Great Hall.
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Just telling the truth mate. How’s it going with you two?”
“We haven’t really spoken lately but it’s okay I guess. I’ve forgiven him anyway.”
“Good. He was bloody miserable without you.”
“I’m glad he was. I’m his bestfriend.” Harry winked at the boy walking next to him.
“Your sarcasm had mounted drastically mate. Spending too much time with Malfoy I say.”
“That’s not what he would say. Or McGonagall.”
“What’s McGonagall got to do with your sarcasm?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.”
“I haven’t. I’ll ask McGonagall if we can have dinner in a separate room this evening. I’ll tell you all about it. Anyway, how’s the shop going? And you still have to answer the questions I asked you earlier.”
George scrunched up his face. “Right…I’m fine…Bill and Charlie are good too…Yes, Charlie’s still in Romania and…The shop’s great. Loads of customers, got a few regulars too, like Lee.”
Harry and George talked all the way through lunch, just catching up. They were sad to hear the bell ring.
“See you tonight then. Hey, can Fred come? Even though… You know, he can’t…Eat.” George’s shoes suddenly became very interesting to him.
“Yeah.” Harry smiled sadly. “And do you mind if Draco comes?” The ginger quickly became himself again.
“If it pleases you Harry, I will endure it.” George sighed dramatically and went off to find Fred.
That evening, Harry, Fred the ghost and George sat around a small-ish table, waiting for their food to arrive.
“Draco couldn’t come. Said he had to speak to McGonagall.” Said Harry.
Fred and George both shrugged. “So, what’s this thing about sarcasm and all that?”
“Has George told you about what we were talking about before lunch?”
“Yeah, Georgie told me.”
“Draco, McGonagall and Professor Quipett all think I’m a Veela.”
“Well that’s just stupid.” Said George.
“Thank you!” Said Harry.
“We would’ve known if you were a Veela. How thick can you get?” Said Fred.
“At least two of you think it’s complete rubbish. I’ve been trying to tell them but they won’t listen!”
“But what does being a Veela have to do with your sarcasm?”
“Veelas emotions get heightened when they’re soon to or already have their wings.”
“Complete and utter rubbish.” Stated George.
“Thank Merlin you two believe me.”
That night, Harry waited for Draco to fall asleep and he slipped out of bed. He walked down to the Quidditch pitch again, this time with his own broom. He hesitated for a long time again before mounting. That was getting rather annoying. He loved flying, why not just get on with it? Something is going to happen to you, said a small voice in his head. Maybe some Death Eaters that are in hiding are going to get you again. Maybe Dementors will come for you. Maybe you’ll slip and fall.
“No.” Said Harry firmly. “Nothing is going to happen. I’m safe.”
He pushed off the ground and once again, the breeze going through his hair was liberating. He grinned as he twisted and flipped and spun. Soon enough, the wind picked up and he was forced to descend. He rubbed his icy hands together and half walked half ran back up to the castle. Maybe I should check the weather before coming out next time, he thought to himself.