Oh God Not Again!

Chapter Twenty Seven

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Note: Harry had an amazing summer. Absolutely. I really couldn't do it justice, so I'm skipping over all of it. It was awesome though, really. :p

It had been a good summer, Harry reflected as he sat across from his godfather at Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour. True, he, Sirius, Luna, and her father had had little luck tracking the Blibbering Humdinger in Zaire and true that he had been forced to speak French for nearly six weeks (this was, naturally, the worst thing that had happened to him in recent memory, though Sirius was unsympathetic told him he was just being dramatic) but he had had fun anyway. His and Sirius's month in Egypt – after the Weasley's had, in fact, won the 700 Galleon Draw – had been even more amusing, although Percy had joined Ginny in the 'Not Speaking to Harry' department after Harry had distracted Mrs. Weasley while Fred and George had locked him in a pyramid. He didn't see what the big deal was, anyway. Percy was only in there for three hours and had confessed afterwards that he had learned quite a bit that he wouldn't otherwise have an opportunity to because he was unsupervised. Apparently while the new Head Boy had come to expect behavior like that from the twins he had 'expected better' of Harry.

"Do you think they're done with their school supply shopping yet?" Harry asked. "I'm bored."

Sirius, who had been thoughtfully eyeing a group of rather pretty witches, blinked and looked over at him. "You're the one who hired Dobby to do yours for you," he reminded him.

"Well, yeah, but it didn't occur to me that I'd be stuck waiting here for everyone else to finish theirs," Harry complained.

"Yes, who would have thought that Hermione would freak out that you were paying Dobby below minimum wage – and yes, I know he insisted on it," Sirius held up a hand to forestall Harry's protest, "Ron would get insulted that you were rubbing it in his face that you're so rich you won't even do your own shopping, Ginny still wouldn't be speaking to you, and Luna and Neville would be off to prove that Wrackspurts have infested Ollivander's."

"It's a conspiracy, I tell you," Harry said forlornly.

"You've still got me," Sirius said brightly.

Harry didn't respond.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Well you could have tagged along with them anyway," he pointed out.

"That would totally defeat the purpose of me paying Dobby to do it for me," Harry said, sounding shocked. "I wonder why Draco always insists on doing his own shopping."

"House Elves have notoriously poor color scheme," Draco replied, the shop door slamming shut behind him.

"Pinch me, I must be dreaming," Harry said to Sirius, who immediately did so. "Draco Malfoy has remembered that I exist."

Draco crossed his arms irritably. "I never forgot."

"Then why didn't you reply to any of the 37 letters I've sent you this summer?" Harry demanded.

"Other than the fact that most of the were full of meaningless drivel about people I don't care about?" Draco asked. At Harry's nod, he continued, "Once my father found out about that stupid rumor you started – and we all know you did so don't bother denying it – he and my mother have been fighting and so they forbid me from having anything to do with you. And also because they think you're new guardian might be a bad influence."

"Like they're one to talk…" Sirius grumbled. "And you're having something to do with him right now."

Draco grinned. Harry was sure that as a result somewhere a puppy just died. "I'm officially a teenager. I've got to get that rebellion in somehow, don't I? Anyway, my mother's just finishing up with Madam Malkin, so I've got to go. Be seeing you, Harry."