Harry Potter and the Time Fluke

When Jealousy Strikes

Harry Evans had a date. He just hoped this one didn't go as disastrously as the one with Cho had. But the girl he was taking this time around was a poised Slytherin, not a blubbering Ravenclaw, so maybe things would end better than they had on his first date ever with a girl...

The Slytherin Harry would be accompanying that day was Aquila Edavane, and though he wasn't sexually attracted to her, her face was aesthetically pleasing, which was why he hadn't cursed Orion when he, not Harry, had agreed to the date. In fact, Harry had never even spoken to her before until she'd wandered up to him in the library, Monday, and asked him to accompany her to Hogsmeade that weekend. Harry had been so shocked that he'd unconsciously allowed his mouth to hang open in a rather unattractive way, and before he could decline, Orion had put an arm around his shoulders and told Aquila that Harry would be happy to take her out. She'd practically bounced away, ecstatic, and Harry had sent Orion his worst death glare before smacking him in the face with a rolled-up Prophet.

Later, at dinner, when Harry had been whining about Orion's actions to their friends, he'd received little sympathy. Abraxas had smirked and Dmitry had laughed, excitedly saying that Harry should be happy such a pretty girl with such a Pure family had asked him out. But Tom... Tom had just sat there, absorbing the information in silence with the only sign that he'd heard being a single eyebrow lifting. Harry wouldn't have even seen it if he hadn't been sitting directly across from the boy.

Harry turned the shower's knob, and the continuous spray of hot water stopped. He dried off and wrapped a towel around his slim waist, quickly returning to his room to dress himself. He hadn't brought any clothing with him because he thought no one else would be up yet. It was still early, for a weekend.

He was wrong. Dmitry was sitting up and stretching, and Tom was perched on Harry's bed.

Why was that fool up so early?

Harry paid him no mind as he went over to his trunk and fished out a pair of green boxer shorts. He slid them on under his towel before letting the fluffy cloth fall to the floor.

"What are you doing on my bed, Tom?"

Tom looked at him with mock surprise at Harry's arrival, as if he hadn't been slyly watching the other boy's movements out of the corner of his eye since he'd emerged from the bathroom. "Can't I come to say 'Good morning'?"

"Tom...Well, I was going to say it's seven-thirty, but–no wait, it's seven-thirty. Tom, what are you doing up at seven-thirty in the morning?"

Dmitry froze, mid-yawn. "What?" he half-shouted, causing the room's other occupants to restlessly stir in their sleep. "You woke me up at seven-thirty in the morning? You're a bloody wanker, Tom. I'm going back to bed." He dramatically fell back onto his mattress and pulled the covers up over his head.

Tom chuckled and it made Harry smile happily. The other boy had been so unlike himself recently that any action like his old-persona was greatly welcomed. He bent over to his trunk and pulled out more clothes.

Will it be cold in Hogsmeade today? He turned to Tom, who was giving Harry a bit of privacy by studying his nails. "Hey Tom, you think it'll be cold today?"

"Probably." Harry threw the T-shirt back in his trunk and pulled on a dark green turtle-neck and black slacks. He sat on the bed next to Tom, who turned when he felt the dip beside him. "Did you do that on purpose?"

Harry was confused. "Do what?"

"Match your clothes with your natural appearance."

"Erm, no?" Tom snorted. "Hey, don't laugh at me! It's not my fault that I lack the perceptiveness about how to match myself correctly so I don't look stupid."