Harmony Anthology- Short Story Collection

I'll Cut Your Throat

I stood near the pillar in the ballroom, watching as Krum walked off to get me a drink. I had dated him briefly before when we were attending Durmstrang and Hogwarts respectively.

Victor Krum was very good looking in a brutish sort of way. I wished sometimes I felt more for him, as he obviously had feelings for me.

Unfortunately, all my attention was preoccupied almost always with the one person that I absolutely should not want. My controlling, egotistical, probably slightly psychotic former boss. Although to be fair after what he went through in the war, he probably wasn't as bad as he could be. But still.

I remembered how he looked in school, his cool competent face, his green eyes matching his Slytherin colors. Constantly poking at me, always trying to show me up and be a thorn in my side.

I purposely avoided remembering the other parts of the war, when we fought side by side- the relationship that developed between us. I don't think I could admit it to anyone- I could barely admit it to myself. But it had been one of the best times in my life fighting next to him- being with him that way. The battle was effortless, every spell finding their mark, the man at my side a power . Our tactics syncing, him blasting wide swathes of death eaters while I protected his six. Then afterwards... the tent...

No, don't think of it. It's done and gone.

As if my thoughts summoned him I heard Harry Potter's low voice behind me.

"Krum again?"

I sniffed as I turned, pushing back the memories. "I saw you have another Veela."

"So you looked."

"More like everyone looked, she's so shiny I think I need sunglasses."

He stepped closer to me, I could feel his body heat through our clothes, why was he always so hot?

And I absolutely meant that in all of its meanings.

"Are you going home with him?"

I looked back over to where Krum was finally making his way back, before glancing back at my egomaniac former boss. "Even if I am, it's none of your business."

I always had these ideas of how I should interact with Harry Potter, but it basically always ended up with him indulging his savior complex with me or trying to tell me what to do. I was not about to put up with either- the fact that he's not dead yet is a constant source of amazement to me with the way he flings himself into danger at the drop of a hat.

Either way- except for very few instances - battle and (cough, cough) tents- we went together as well as oil and water. So, I walked off leaving him staring after me.

━━━━━━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆━━━━━━

My bedroom was full of comfortable gloom, except for a narrow slash of light, which snuck through the gap between my curtains to fall right on my face. I stuck a pillow on my head. I was drifting off into dreamland, the pillow on my head blocking the annoyingly persistent ray of light, when I felt the wards around my flat ripple.

My door swung open. No one should be able to get through my wards once I locked them down for the night. I forced myself to lie still, my limbs loose. Some picture I presented: my butt in white cotton panties sticking out, my head under the pillow. Not the most advantageous fighting stance. I lay, hyperaware, all my senses straining. Very soft footsteps approached the bed.