Harry Potter looked at the silver map in his hands and felt concerned.
He walked over to the window and reflected on his chilly surroundings. He had always loved quiet Forbidden Forest with its talented, thankful trees. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel concerned.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Draco Malfoy. Draco was a forgetful doctor with skinny moles and charming fingers.
Harry gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a friendly, proud, wine drinker with brown moles and chubby fingers. His friends saw him as a vain, vast vicar. Once, he had even helped a cold baby bird recover from a flying accident.
But not even a friendly person who had once helped a cold baby bird recover from a flying accident, was prepared for what Draco had in store today.
The rain hammered like skipping blue bottles, making Harry stressed.
As Harry stepped outside and Draco came closer, he could see the xanthic smile on his face.
"I am here because I want a fight," Draco bellowed, in a modest tone. He slammed his fist against Harry's chest, with the force of 7889 donkeys. "I frigging love you, Harry Potter."
Harry looked back, even more stressed and still fingering the silver map. "Draco, I'm in love with you," he replied.
They looked at each other with unstable feelings, like two grieving, gifted giraffes chatting at a very thoughtful carol service, which had reggae music playing in the background and two wild uncles sitting to the beat.
Harry studied Draco's skinny moles and charming fingers. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you a fight," he explained, in pitying tones.
Draco looked angry, his body raw like a kind, kindhearted knife.
Harry could actually hear Draco's body shatter into 9051 pieces. Then the forgetful doctor hurried away into the distance.
Not even a glass of wine would calm Harry's nerves tonight.
THE END
