Winging It (Interactive Love Story)

3. Whatever You Say, Golden Boy

The courtyard of Hogwarts was illuminated by the afternoon sunlight. It delicately shone on the upper half of Harry's meager body, highlighting the not-so-subtle expression on his face. It displayed a look of doubt, uncertainty, but most of all confusion, and for a good reason, too. He had dug his own grave just moments earlier, and needless to say, the current situation was starting to put a lot of pressure on him. Harry took a deep breath, and just as he was about to open his mouth to speak—

"Oh, please. You're obviously bluffing," Malfoy claimed, irritated by the Gryffindor's presence. "A scarhead like you should learn to mind their own business, anyway."

Ignoring the insult, Harry rolled his verdant eyes. He had heard the slur time and time again, but it always caused a certain level of pain in his heart.

"I'm not bluffing," Harry argued back, taking a step forward. He kept his chin up, trying to seem bigger even though he was a few inches shorter then his arch nemesis. Malfoy scoffed, unimpressed by the Golden Boy's remark. "Oh, really? Which team is it, then?"

Harry's mind raced into motion. A tendency had awoken inside of him. The tiny seed of curiosity grew and grew, sending out roots of doubt.

A sadistic leer spread across Malfoy's lips. "Well?" he spoke in an impatient manner, his eyes flashing menacingly. Without hesitation, Harry took another step towards the spiteful blonde and finally spoke his mind. "Slytherin," he said simply. "Slytherin has the pitch."

A few snickers and triumphant comments arose from the green Quidditch team, but Malfoy's face displayed an expression of pure shock. Taken aback by the sudden turn of events, the Hufflepuffs reluctantly left the courtyard. Not more than a moment later, the Slytherins did the same, and they passed Harry while doing so. But just before Malfoy passed him, he stopped.

"You lied," he spoke coldly, and continued walking. Harry was left alone in the courtyard, trying to comprehend what just happened.

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The sun, seemingly frozen in place at the very apex of the sky, did eventually fall to earth, dying the curve of the horizon a brilliant red.

When supper came around, Harry was so occupied thinking about the events from a few hours ago that he forgot to eat. 'Did I do the right thing there? I don't think I should have lied to them. They probably all hate me now. Why did I intervene again?' Harry felt extremely bad for lying, but he knew that moping wasn't going to make things better. Instead, he decided to take his mind off of the matter and aimlessly fooled around with his fork. When Hermione took notice of this, she asked, "Why are you looking at me through a fork?"

Harry simply smirked, and replied, "I'm pretending you're in jail."

That only added to Hermione's confusion. "...Why?"

"It's somewhat amusing."

The bright witch was stunned into silence. This was a whole new level of moronic, even for Harry.

"Anyway," she began, unamused. "Are you guys planning on going to the ball?"

"I'll go if you two are going as well," Ron chimed in. His interest piqued, Harry put his fork down at last. "The ball isn't for another two weeks," he remarked. "There's still plenty of time to decide whether we're going or not."

Hermione gave him a look. "You're not wrong there. However, I suggest you get a date as soon as possible. Nobody likes a slacker."

"A date?" Harry mumbled quietly, his thoughts racing.

"I don't need a date, I'm going with you guys," Ron stated.

"Bringing a date with you is mandatory, Ron," Hermione commented. "You're quite the genius, aren't you?"