Past? What Past?! [ F I N I S H E D ]

Past? What Past! Part5

"Don't lie to me. I know you're not in school, because they phoned me to ask where you were. So now you're a lying, cheating, truant who sleeps around? I thought you were better than this, Abigail."

"It's Abi," I corrected her. I wouldn't allow her to call me by my full name because that implied she had some power over me. She didn't. "Now can you fuck off and let me get on with my life? Thanks," I said, then I added, "I may not be home tonight," then I hung up the phone, not bothering to listen to her cries of outrage at my language.

The bell blazed and students started to mill out of the school. It was lunchtime. Two minutes after the bell went Harry was outside the school. I got out of Bernie and locked him, walking over to Harry.

He saw me before I approached him and yelled angrily, "WALLACE!"

"Hey," I said sheepishly once I reached him.

He looked at me sternly and said, "where have you been? I've been worried sick!"

"I wasn't going to -" I started, but was cut off as I had been pulled into a bone-crushing hug. "Aww, you care!" I sighed, grinning. Wrapping my arms around Harry, I thought about how it felt. I hadn't been hugged in a while and thought I'd never want to be again. But this... This was nice. I liked it, and I didn't want Harry to leave my side. I wanted him to always be there. I wanted to trust him. But I didn't DO trust - not now. I used to, but that was in the past, and everything had changed now.

"Of course I care, you great big Scottish muppet!" Harry mumbled into my hair, burying his face into my blonde bush of straightened locks like he just wanted to disappear into it forever. But I could only think of one thing: he was ruining my hairdo! How unromantic am I?

"Dude!" I squealed in protest. "Duuude!" Harry was clearly ignoring me. "POTTER! WILL YOU REMOVE YOUR FACE FROM MY HAIR!" Then I added in an undertone: "it took me ages to create this perfection."

"Aww, shut it, Wallace! Are you not a big fan of physical contact?" Actually, I wasn't normally too big a fan of physical intimacy but I wasn't going to tell Harry that, otherwise he'd want to know the reason why, and I wasn't going to tell him that! That would involve going into the deepest darkest areas of my past, and that wasn't a feasible option. I was never going into that area again. So I didn't answer and instead of pushing Harry away, I let him in, and tried to let myself trust, for once.

We stood embracing for another few minutes and then Harry pulled away with a strange look on his face. It confused me, and I didn't like being confused. He stared at me with such an intensity that instantly made me think something was on my face.

"What?" I asked, looking at him. He didn't answer, but continued to stare at me. "What!" I exclaimed, getting really pissed off now. When he still didn't answer, I placed my hands on Harry's muscled biceps and pushed him away from me. But he did not relinquish his hold on my waist, and all I ended up doing was weakening myself so that eventually I slumped forward, my head bumping against his chest. My head made a nice 'doof' sound when it encountered Harry's chest so I pulled my head back and headbutted Harry's chest again, and again, and again. Doof, doof, doof. The noise satisfied me for some reason that I could quite explain, so I continued to headbutt Harry's chest, trying not to hurt him.

When I was fully contented with my 'doof'ing, I looked to Harry's face and found him staring at me differently than before. Before the whole 'doof' situation (which was a hilarious word) Potter had been staring at me with a vigour which frightened me. Now he was staring at me like I was a freak - which in all fairness, I was. He also looked like he was trying to hold back his laughter that was apparent on his face. I let my head finally flop back onto his chest, letting my hands find their way to Harry's stomach where I let my fingers run patterns over the deep contours of his abs. My head started to vibrate and I realised this was because HARRY was vibrating - he was creasing himself with laughter. I looked up at him, gave him a stern look, then let my head fall back onto his chest, closing my eyes and relaxing as Harry tightened his grip around me.