The desire to murder two of his school-fellows followed Harry through most of the weekend; he remained horrifically bad tempered and inadvertently had everyone walking on eggshells around him. He couldn't find it in him to care too much or feel bad about his behaviour; he'd bet that any of the guys would have reacted in the same way if they had found out that sex was off the cards for two months.
Seven weeks, he told himself firmly as he brushed his teeth on Monday morning, ready and unwilling to go back to classes. Not two months anymore. He'd already done a week, and really, things couldn't be any worse than the last seven days had been.
"Morning."
Harry turned around as Ron stumbled into the washroom, yawning widely, wearing only one sock and no tie, his shirt buttoned lopsidedly.
"M'in," Harry replied, before spitting his mouthful out into the sink. "You alright?"
"Yeah," Ron said, reaching for his own toothbrush. "Can't believe it's Monday already again though."
"Defence again today," Harry said significantly and Ron nodded in comprehension.
"Bloody hell, has it only been a week?" he asked, scratching his head. "Seems like well longer."
Harry sighed, putting his toothbrush back in place. "Tell me about it. Back to me, Malfoy, and Neville in a small, confined space with wands drawn. This is going to end badly."
"Worse than last time?" Ron asked and Harry had to laugh.
"Fair point."
"'ows e 'ink?" Ron asked, his toothbrush in his mouth.
"The link?" Harry asked, running his fingers through his hair and frowning at his reflection. "Very quiet."
"'ats 'ood," Ron commented, eyes on Harry in the mirror.
"I'd say suspicious," Harry muttered and Ron snorted with laughter, spitting into the sink.
"When are you going to stop being suspicious of Malfoy?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye as he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.
Harry gave up on his hair. "When he stops being Malfoy."
"So you've not heard anything yet?" Hermione asked with interest as Harry filled her in on the state of the link. Her constant questions were a little unnerving and Harry had to remind her on more than one occasion that she had to stop looking at him like he was an fascinating science project.
"Nope," Harry affirmed as they descended the staircase that led into the Entrance Hall, Ron swearing just behind them as he tried to simultaneously do his tie and walk without bumping into things. "He might be still asleep."
"Hmm, could be," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Does seem the simplest explanation."
"I hope he stays asleep all day," Harry said. "I don't want him in the room for Defence."
"You could spend the session looking at the link together," Hermione said a little too brightly for Harry's liking. "The Occlumency work won't be any good for you two because of it-"
"I've worked enough on this bloody link this weekend," Harry said hastily, holding his hands up as if to ward off her suggestions. Hermione shot him an amused smile but said no more, instead turning to flick her wand at Ron, righting his tie in an instant.
Harry wasn't even lying about the amount of work he'd done that weekend. Upon discovering his 'problem', he had resolved to spend the whole weekend flying to forget about it. Two metaphorical bludgers took down his plan in record speed: firstly the pitch was booked by the house teams, and secondly, more flying meant more showers which led right back to the problem he was trying to avoid.
