Star Quality

Chapter 6

I bought a new wand, Harry texted Malfoy as he ate a bowl of cereal the next morning. He wasn't sure why he was texting Malfoy, but then he wasn't sure why he was doing anything any more. Malfoy didn't even want to help, did he? He'd made that clear, the day before. Before Harry had done all that wanking, he remembered, not sure if he was ashamed of himself or not. At least Malfoy would never have to know, he thought, wincing. No one ever needed to know.

He spooned some more cornflakes into his mouth, feeling embarrassed and filthy as the memories hit him with more intensity. He'd wanked in the hallway. Thinking about Malfoy. God, he was a mess. To his surprise and discomfort, the phone beeped almost immediately with a reply.

Of course you did. Find Ollivander, did you?

Was that sarcasm? Harry presumed it was sarcasm. Still, he thought, shovelling in more cornflakes, that wasn't a bad idea, if the worst came to the worst. Maybe Ollivander still had the skill, deep inside, and if Harry went on at him enough, he might turn his hand to wands just to get rid of him. No, but good idea, he sent. And then added, Thanks, because he might as well. Maybe it would annoy Malfoy, he thought, trying to rouse himself into a more normal state of mind. That would be good.

Sleep well? Malfoy shot back.

Harry nearly choked on a cornflake that went the wrong way, but washed it all down with tea. He had, in fact, slept pretty well, after all that, er, hard work. What on earth was he meant to reply? He decided not to overthink it, because Malfoy was undoubtedly laughing at him. Yeah, great. You?

The answer, when it came, was short:

;-)

Harry stared at the text, and as he stared at it, another one came through.

That's Muggle for winking, by the way. I hope you're impressed x

Harry stared at that one too, wondering if it was too early in the day to have a lie down with a cold flannel on his forehead. He'd only just got up, after all, and he might end up with indigestion. Had Malfoy really just sent him a text with a kiss on the end? Did Malfoy know that an x meant a kiss? Was he taking the piss?

Harry thought about it some more and decided that, yes, Malfoy was one hundred, million percent taking the piss. He was probably wetting himself with laughter right now at getting one over on him. At stupid, mixed up Harry, and his stupid, mixed up feelings. So he sent back: Very xxx and waited for a sarcastic response that proved Malfoy had only done it to be an arsehole. After ten minutes, though, nothing else had come through, so Harry finished his breakfast and went back upstairs to clean his teeth, before he decided what to do with the day.

Once he'd got ready, Harry wondered what he should do with himself. It was Sunday, wasn't it? He didn't have to work at the shop again until Monday, if he remembered right. He felt disinclined to call Hermione back; she would undoubtedly want to talk to him about Malfoy, and he didn't want to think about Malfoy any more, let alone listen to her bang on about him and his many amazing achievements. This decision also ruled out Malfoy and his dubious help – or, rather, lack of it – at least for today. And his wand – hand-whittled by a druid at midnight and made from a branch that had fallen naturally from a holly tree, the description said – was on order and would allegedly arrive within two to three working days, so there was nothing to be done there apart from wait. What else was there he could do?

Harry went for a walk to get some fresh air. He tidied his house from top to bottom, the novelty of hoovering his own place, rather than casting a household charm, wearing off after only a couple of minutes. He had some lunch, and tidied up again. He switched on the TV and watched some kind of property programme, feeling both bored and baffled. And he looked around, at a house that barely showed any signs of his life in this reality, and wondered if this was really how it would have gone, if he hadn't been magic, if he hadn't gone to Hogwarts. A bare house. No family, and barely any friends. An unfulfilling job. An empty life. Merlin, was he really that pathetic?