Running Away

4

Disgusting. Filthy. Absolutely atrocious. I have never been in such an indecent place in my lifetime, and my favourite place to sit and read were the dungeons in Malfoy Manner. I was utterly repulsed by the clutter and chaos, and the idea I had to share a vast amount of time with Harry Potter. I was so looking forward to the mudblood returning with some kind of accommodation; hopefully with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, two living areas, and two kitchens, so that I can spend as little time as possible communicating with him. 

Yes we had a pleasant time in the dark closet, when I didn't have to stare at his frog like appearance, and unkempt greasy hair. Now, the only thing keeping me from leaving is the thought that I would have to take a one-way trip to a dementor infested, impenetrable island, to have any ounce of happiness and humanity drained from my body.

"Harry!!!" A loud bang preluded the high-pitched voice echoing through the house. So of course, Potter jumped and run to find the owner of the screech. Granger. I could barely hear the muffled conversation, but the general gist was that she had found a place for Potter and I to run off to. A bunch of crying and goodbyes signalled the end of the conversation, and another loud bang confirmed her leave. Potter entered our fort with a piece of paper and a grin.

"She assured me she hasn't read it so she will not be able to find our new get-away, but here. Our new address, secret keeper." He winked at me, and I rolled my eyes, taking the slip of paper.

142 Deleec Nook

"A bit on the nose, isn't it?" I snorted.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't worry about it Potter."

____

Again, with the flying. We couldn't use our wands, so instead Potter decided the most intelligent move was to grab a broom, straddle it and motion me to sit behind him.

"I will not remove my dignity by sharing a broom with you."
"You already did it once Malfoy." Potter groaned.

"That was under different circumstances."
"Not that different, you are still wanting to live, aren't you?"
"In this case you can just find a second broom. I would rather ride beside you instead of behind you."
"It is too obvious, it will be hard enough to conceal one broom flying through the air, and I only have one invisibility cloak."

"Fine, but if you ever tell anyone, I swear to merlin you will regret ever being born."

I reluctantly sat side saddle behind him, forcing myself to hold onto his waist as he through the cloak over our bodies. He smelled of sweat. The kind of sweat you would only smell on a teenager who didn't know how to properly clean their bodies in the shower; a teen who would stand beneath a running stream of water jerking themselves of for an hour, and forgets to soap up. I never enjoyed being close to people, let alone touching them, let alone wrapping my arms around them, especially when I wasn't the one to initiate it; Harry Potter is not someone I would normally consent to being anywhere near this close to me. Wind whipping my face and flicking his hair into my eyes forced me to bury my face in between his shoulder blades, where the sweat permeating off his body infiltrated my nose, making me consider whether this was better than having random air particles and wind dry out my eyes and stab me repeatedly in the face. This house better be good.

_______
"Shit."

"What?"

"It is absolute shit." The door had opened into a kitchen, directly into the kitchen. A bench went across what I assumed was supposed to be the separation of the kitchen and the living room, only about a meter and a half in front of where the door opened into. An old fridge I swear I could see the lines coming off of sat to the left, only about two steps from the open doorway, a stove one bench away from it. I assumed cooking was to be done on the separating bench that attached to the stove, which seemed illogical as I walked around the side to see carpet starting right on the line between kitchen and living. "If you're cooking that carpet is going to get disgusting."

"Who said I'm cooking?"
"Think about it for a second Potter." I walk over to him and stare down at him, for a saviour of the world he is short. "I was raised rich, with a house full of elves and two parents who loved nothing more, then spending their gold."
"You don't know how to cook." I watched as the slime ball tried to hold in a laugh. So I rolled my eyes at his idiocy.

"Well, you obviously do so guess who has to cook. Unless you have some other way of obtaining food, you will also probably have to go buy stuff from muggles."

"You know Malfoy, I really hate you."
"Good." Instead of continuing the pointless conversation, I simply walked around to investigate the rest of the house. "A pull-out couch?" an old, crummy, snot green pull-out couch, sat against one of the yellowing walls, facing the kitchen. "If the initial entry is this bad, I don't think I want to know what the bathrooms and bedrooms are like."
"Well, fiddelous charms are hard to come by in quality."

"Hermione didn't take that long. I am sure she could have found something a bit more... accommodating."
"Well I am a simple, simple guy. Hermione, Ron and I spent months in nothing but a tent, I am not sure quality was what she was looking for." All I did was grunt, roll my eyes and make my way to the first door beside the couch. If I thought the couch was bad, you would not want me to describe the state of the toilet... or shower/bath... or the... tiles. I felt a shiver flow through my body.

"I hope you clean that." Without waiting I opened the door right beside it, and it opened to a bedroom, well I guess you could call it that. It was a room, and it had a bed, and a singular bedside table. One bed, no other doors.

"If I am cooking, you are cleaning." I turned to see Potter standing in the door of the room.

"How is that fair?"

"Because then it is an even spread of work, and cleaning isn't something that takes skill to get done. Just to do it well. Personally, I don't mind mess, so really you are the one who wants it done. Plus, if you clean the bathroom you can have the bedroom."

"Wait, the bathroom? The bedroom?! As in one of each!? As in sharing?" I felt my eyes widen and a shiver run through my body, persuading the hairs on the back of my arms and neck to stand on end. Potter just shrugged and walked out, and I stared at the yellowing mattress. Why is everything in this "house" yellowing?