Coincide

In Disgust, a Furious First Mate

Chad was already getting ready for bed by the time Harry got back to the room. Chad shot a prissy smile at the pirate and turned back to the mirror, fastidiously combing his already-perfectly-combed hair.

"Why are you still doing that?" Harry asked him, after several minutes. Chad looked at him with a patronizing sniff.

"Some of us take pride in our appearance," he said, in the tone of voice one would use while explaining to a six-year-old that candy apples do not grow on trees.

Harry rolled his eyes and turned to his bed, noting for the first time that there was a very odd smell in the room. Flowery, but excessively so. It made him gag slightly as he got into the bed.

And then began to gag a great deal harder.

Eyes watering, Harry raised his head from the slightly damp pillow. "What is this stuff?" he choked.

Chad looked over at him, a smug smile playing about his lips. "What stuff, roomie?'

Harry was too busy trying to clear his airway of the sickeningly cloying scent. "What did you put on my pillow?"

"Oh, that," Chad said breezily. "Haven't you ever heard of perfume? I was just trying to cover up the odor in the room. You know, the one I noticed when you came in. You should thank me. It covers up whatever you've been rolling around in. Or have you been visiting that ugly captain of yours? What a shame she isn't dead."

Harry wanted to take the perfumed pillow and stuff it down Chad's throat. Then shove the comb up his nose. Then pull out every single perfectly combed hair, one by one. He felt his face heating up, his fists clenching.

Chad eyed him warily.

"Don't even try it, Hook," he warned. "If you lay a hand on me, I'll tell Ben, and he'll have you off Auradon faster than you could blink. You and that Uma girl. And you'll never see your precious hook again, because I'll personally make sure that it's thrown into the ocean."

Harry couldn't remember ever wanting to kill somebody more than he did now, even that time when Gil had accidentally put cinnamon instead of cayenne into his soup.

With one last burning glance at Chad, Harry got into bed, his head on the pillow-less side of the bed.

"Two more days," he muttered. "Two more days."