Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Fu Inle ❯ Life is Strange ( Chapter 6 )

Fu Inle Ch.6: Life is Strange

 

Again, thanks to readers, namely those who review/ comment and those who want to have frequent updates. Warnings are in prologue and chapter 4. Again, I don't own anything but my theories and dreams.

 

 

The sun shines in through the lone window in a harsh glare.

 

His gaze travels to the pure white ceiling and rests there for a moment while all the information of before sinks in.

 

I am Draco Malfoy. I was weak. My father tried to kill me. I was helped by Harry Potter and a group known as the Order of the Phoenix. They are not much different from the other people, except they don't have the same fear. They don't know what he does to the children of death eaters. I will not tell them. Potter apparently likes me, how much I have no idea. I can live with this…

 

Harry's light snoring is just audible to his left. He comes to the realization that he isn't wearing his borrowed shoes or sneakers. This fact brings an abrupt end to his daydreaming. He rises from the bed, leaving the poor crumpled blanket behind. A pile of clothes rests on the foot of the bed, somehow unmussed like the rest of the world seems to be.

 

With one fluid movement, he snatches them up and goes to the small attached bathroom. Everything is pure white porcelain, clean and almost sickeningly pure. Draco gazes into the mirror above the sink.

 

My hair is horrible. I let them see me like that? Now they'll think I'm just another pig like the Weasley family…

 

Remembering to lock the door, he pulls off his shirt. He slides off his borrowed underwear last. The bandages are peeling. He pulls on a taped on corner. The injuries are gone, leaving faint scars. The few pale lines blend with the others.

 

He turns on the shower. Hot water, nearly scalding, rushes from the showerhead. It strikes his face and body, warm hail. The steamy heat makes his face flush. His long hair sticks to every inch of skin that it can reach. Grabbing the nearest bottle, he lathers up, cleansing himself of every speck of dirt or hint of imperfection that was the result of his latest dishonor.

 

At least now I'll be presentable. If I have to learn to deal with this, I can't let them see the me that they found ever again. I am not going to show any form of gratitude. They caught me at a bad time. I am not weak, and will not be viewed as such by a Mud blood and a Traitor. Though I suppose that now I have less room to talk where the second one's concerned.

 

He takes a step out of the shower and catches his image in the mirror.

 

No wonder they were distracted, I must have looked horrible.

 

Some of his hair is uneven, completely rough. He has lost some weight, and it has taken it's toll on making his features a bit more pointed. Strangely enough, however, his body is it's usual perfect form. The scars aren't obvious unless the observer is close. After a brief moment of self admiration so similar to something that his mother would do, he turns his attention to clothes.

 

He tears the tags off of everything, slightly disgusted at both the lack of brand and the fact that they are muggle made. He slips on a pair of smiley faced boxers, then blue jeans. The shirt is, again, a band that he has never heard about in his life. His hair is making his collar wet, so the instant that he sees a small black scrunchie on the sink, he takes the opportunity to pull it into a ponytail.

 

With a sigh he walks into he, and apparently Harry's, room. Harry lay fast asleep on the couch. His glasses are still on, and a book is open facedown on his chest. Draco makes his bed, stretching the blanket taut. Frowning, he takes the glasses from

Harry's face and places them on the end table, trading them for his wand.

 

He's so…No. I can't think things like that. I can't be with anyone. I'll turn in to my father. I'll hurt whoever it is I wind up with. Or they'll be like him. Why couldn't he have just let me die?

 

He dog-ears the page and places the book on the floor.

 

Why must he look so innocent? No one is, so why does he bother to feign it? He caused so much trouble at Hogwarts, toward the Dark Lord, towards both my father and I. He couldn't have been behind all of it, could he?

 

More on impulse than with logical thought, he kisses the boy who lived on those seemingly innocent slightly pouted lips.

 

No…

 

He frees a brief unseen smile.

 

Not for all of it.

 

 

He goes downstairs and grabs a soda from the fridge. Wandering aimlessly, he searches for something to do. There are no interesting novels on the bookshelf along the living room wall. There is no one in the rest of the house. With a half-defeated sigh, he flops onto the couch.

They could have at least left a note or something…Even a “Don't kill each other, try not to set the house on fire `til we get back” would have been nice.

 

He grabs the remote from a low wooden coffee table and starts flipping through the channels.

 

Infomercial. Infomercial. Soap opera. News. Soap opera. Infomercial…

 

He leaves the television on, and goes into the kitchen. He glances at the simple digital clock on top of the stove. It reads a bit before noon. He grabs a piece of pizza and returns to his previous spot.

 

He is halfway through the still cold slice when he hits three channels with the same infomercial.

 

I swear, if I see one more advertisement for the Magic Bullet…

 

As if it had heard that thought, he changes the channel and the same exact speech comes on.

He starts laughing.

 

At precisely the wrong moment, Harry comes down the stairs wearing only boxers. He sees Draco laughing and his jaw literally drops. The sight of Harry in his underwear does nothing to stop the blond's apparent breakdown on the sofa; at seeing Harry's face he is unable to breathe.

 

“Ummm, what's so funny?”

“The MAGIC BULLET!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Harry's response now is to sit beside the seemingly insane Draco. “So you're alright, then?”

 

Draco puts the remains of his breakfast/lunch on the table.

 

“I should have known that would be the first thing you would say. But if you must know, I'm fine.”

“I was starting to wonder. You scare me when you don't show any signs of life for days.” Tears well in those perfect green eyes, but don't spill.

 

Don't tell me he's going to cry. Again. His act is getting old.

 

His hand finds a spot on Harry's shoulder.

“I thought I told you not to worry?”

 

Harry glomps him, making the both of them fall back on the cushions. He rests his head on Draco's chest.

 

“Are you alright, Potter?”

“I can't help it.”

“Oh, is your hero complex acting up again?”

“Shut up. You're the one who kissed me.”

“I'm free to kiss whoever I feel like. It doesn't mean anything.”

 

I won't let him trick me into it. I won't let him use me. I shouldn't be in an empty house with him.

 

“It means that you aren't how you act all the time.” He face pauses just above Draco's.

 

Why doesn't he just get it over with? He had no problem before.

 

“Either get off me, or do something. I am not going to spend my day being your personal pil”

 

Harry's lips press forcefully against his own, interrupting. He blushes with his own actions, but doesn't end it.

 

Lions kiss differently. He takes charge more than any of the Slytherins. But he's not going to push it? I guess he expects me to? Well, I can't leave him disappointed. Besides, it's just a kiss, right?

 

Draco's fingers bury themselves in the messy hair, forcing Harry closer. Harry's lips part slightly, and Draco takes the opportunity to let his tongue do the talking. The brunette doesn't back down, meeting him, tasting him.

 

Draco's hand moves down Harry's back. Pale fingertips stop at an elastic waistband.

 

The door opens quietly behind them.

 

 

Sorry all of my chapters are so short. I'll try to get up 7 ASAP! I was distracted, but I don't want to lose anyone's attention!

I didn't get any recommendations for the last chapter's title. First person to suggest one will most likely get it used, and will be thanked immensely.

I'm also sure that the Magic Bullet is copyrighted. I do not own the rights, or even the item itself. It's just that it, half a dozen exercise equipment items, and the “set it and forget it” thing are the only infomercials that sprang to mind.