#9: A Gryffindor Promise
Right. Harry smiled bitterly before stuffing the slip into his pocket. Weren't these fortunes suppose to be customised for its recipient? Perhaps he had charm and merit, but they certainly weren't doing him any good lately. Bloody fortunes.
The week had been an extremely frustrating one. Harry had spent most of his time alone, ever since Ron and Hermione made up from their latest row. And every time Harry saw Ginny and Michael, he'd forced himself to walk the other way. It wasn't so much that he was giving up on her, but the few times he had made the effort to talk to her after Quidditch practice hadn't done much. Ginny had been pushing him away just as much as Harry had been doing the same to her.
It didn't help that even Malfoy was nowhere to be found when Harry needed to consult him about their project. That left him to his own devices to analyse Occlumency, something Harry still couldn't get the hang of. Unless Malfoy was ill, Harry was sure that he was avoiding him. They had barely talked to each other since their meeting at the library. And when Harry had witnessed Malfoy arguing with Parkinson and Zabini, he hadn't meant to overhear everything. The possibility that Malfoy might be bent, though, was just one that never had occurred to him before.
But it made no sense. Rumour had it that Malfoy had his eye on Astoria Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass' little sister. Harry had never really seen them do anything but talk, though he was sure that was out of politeness. He couldn't imagine what went on in the beds of Slytherins. Or that Malfoy could be anything but straight.
Harry pushed these thoughts aside and walked into the classroom. He could feel eyes following him as he passed by his usual seat and continued to the back. He would give Ron and Hermione an explanation later. Right now, Harry wanted this day to be over.
"Rough day, eh?" asked Seamus, looking up at him. "You look like crap, mate."
"Thanks, Seamus. I really appreciate it," replied Harry sarcastically as he sat down next to him. He began rummaging for his essay about non-verbal spells when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Seamus raising an eyebrow.
"Seriously, Harry. You all right?"
"Could be better. Tired is all."
Seamus nodded sympathetically and turned his attention to Professor Godwin, who began talking about today's lecture. It wasn't until halfway through class that the idea suddenly popped into Harry's mind. Seamus was usually a good source of information when it came to the social life at Hogwarts, wasn't he?
On the back of his notes, Harry scribbled something down and poked Seamus in the arm.
Harry's mouth dropped as he stared at the parchment. Surely, this was a joke. He already knew that Seamus was bent (after accidentally walking in on him stark-naked with a younger Ravenclaw). Yet, Seamus was never one to lie about this stuff.
"Really? Malfoy?" was all Harry could say when it was time to gather his books together.
"Yep," said Seamus casually, stuffing his notes into his textbook. He carefully glanced at Dean, who was engaged in a conversation with Terry. He lowered his voice. "Heard he tried stuff with Belby at one point. And then Zabini. That didn't work out, obviously."
"Obviously?"
"Well, Zabini's willing to fuck anything that moves. Malfoy's a special case. He'll give the impression that he fancies birds, but that doesn't explain why he snogged Stretton in loo in the beginning of sixth year."
Harry struggled to absorb this information as he grabbed his bag and followed Seamus up the aisle. As they got to the front of the room, his eyes were immediately drawn to white blond hair. He couldn't help but watch as Malfoy calmly slipped his stuff into his bag before standing up. When Malfoy looked up, however, he stopped and met Harry's eyes with a guarded expression.
Suddenly, the image of Malfoy pressed up against another bloke in a dark corner invaded Harry's mind, making him blush. He knew he shouldn't care about what Malfoy got up to, but Harry was curious. He knew he was also being an idiot. What the hell was wrong with him?
Breaking the moment, Harry averted his eyes and tried to catch up with Seamus. As soon as he was out the door, he heard Seamus chuckle next to him.
"So...Malfoy, eh? Last time I checked, you both hated each other--"
"That hasn't changed too much," interrupted Harry hastily, giving Seamus a pointed look. "As Defence partners, it doesn't exactly help that I'm the only one doing the work for the project."
"Defence partners, my arse. There's something else. You owe me a drink, y'know," added Seamus with a smirk. "Next Hogsmeade's in about, oh-- next weekend?"
"I--fuck. You're holding me to this, aren't you?"
"A promise is a promise. I'll get everything outta ya then, yeah?"
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