Modern No-Magic AU Drarry

Chapter Eight

Bzz. Bzz. Bzz.

Harry's bed displayed shards of light that filtered in through the window, showcasing the morning light. Groaning as he stretched, Harry fumbled around his bed before realising that his phone was still in his pocket from the night before. When had he fallen asleep? From how heavy his eyelids were, it didn't feel like that long ago.

Ron: when does harry usally wake up??

Hermione: He has work at nine, so usually his alarm would be set for eight

Unless he forgot to turn it on which is also entirely possible

Because he didn't text last night so he most likely forgot

Ron: yea he didnt text

Wait deos that say hes active

The green dot

Hermione: yes ron that does indeed mean he's active

Ron: harryyyy

Harry: i'm here

Ron: fuckin finally

Lil shit. almost had me worried

You didn't text last night

Harry: yeah sorry i must've fallen asleep

Or got distracted at least

Hermione: do you feel refreshed?

Harry: not really

Hermione: oh

Ron: rip

Rereading the last few messages, Harry looked at the time and then swore.

Harry: gtg get ready 

Sniffing his shirt as he stood up, Harry wrinkled his nose and then quickly sifted through his bag before laying his hands on a red shirt and struggling into it as he stumbled into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Washing his hands a minute later, he was faced with his reflection: hair sticking practically upright, dark circles under his eyes and a line of dried drool running down the left side of his mouth. Swearing, he quickly rubbed it off before running back into his room and finding a jumper.

When Harry walked through the kitchen door, his uncle rolled his eyes and continued to ignore him. "Thank you, dearest," he said as Petunia laid a cup of coffee in front of him.

Feeling out of place, Harry didn't move from the doorway. "I was wondering if I could be dropped off at work."

Vernon didn't look up, just took another sip from his coffee.

Petunia briefly glanced over but then busied herself with scrubbing the kitchen bench.

Stifling a sigh, Harry tried not to feel hurt. This happened nine times out of ten, he wasn't sure why it still stung. "Alright. Well... bye." He didn't lift his head until he closed the front door, out on the front step in the cool air. Looking up, Harry squinted at the grey sky and the clouds forming, wishing he had a scarf. It looked like it might snow soon.

Shoving the notion aside, he rifled through his pocket as he walked to the nearest bus stop, praying that he had remembered to pack his wallet.

--

"You're late," Draco's snide voice called from the back room as soon as Harry rushed in.

"Bold words coming from someone who should be out front serving," Harry retorted as he practically threw his coat onto a bench and tied on his apron, adjusting his glasses as they slipped down his nose. As he turned around, Draco came into the serving area and placed his hands on the counter.