Raise Hell → Harry Potter

032. Not A Date

Chapter Thirty-Two

[Frankie Marsh]

Not A Date

It had been weeks since the first Rita Skeeter article came out, oozing falsities at every turn, and Frankie hadn't been able to catch a break. People were looking at her differently, whispering about her in the hallways, and she'd already been sent to Snape's office three times for causing trouble - though Snape only made her mark first-year potions tests for him once he found out she wasn't actually dating Harry. She'd had plenty of students telling her they were in her 'corner' about the make-believe love triangle and that they'd speak to Hermione for her. She felt slightly bad for Hermione. Pansy had told her a lot of Hogwarts students were gossiping about Hermione and insulting Hermione behind her back due to Rita's fake love triangle story.  Frankie was also far luckier than Hermione, having Theo, Blaise, Draco and Pansy there to block out the rumours and crude comments - though Draco was enjoying making fun of the rumour of the two of them dating more than he was squashing it. The only place she had managed to get away from the disaster fully was the Quidditch matches. Erika had even hit a bludger towards a gossiping Gryffindor Second Year. 

Frankie had even less time to spend with Harry, the two having to constantly watch their backs every time they spent time together alone. She had developed a newfound respect for the likes of Julia Roberts and Tom Cruise. She could never live a life constantly looking out for flies on the wall like Rita Skeeter. 

The light was draining from the sky, the warm bronze in the sky beginning to be swallowed by the horizon when Harry appeared outside her common room and swept her under his invisibility cloak with him. She had been confused the entire way, as he ordered her to close her eyes and shuffled the two of them along. Eventually, he came to a stop, pulling the cloak off her head and allowing her to open her eyes. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the candlelit room. The rotting wood creaked under the pressure of her shoes, making her shift her stance to allow for the aging house. She glanced at Harry in confusion, surprised he wasn't as concerned about the possibility of the roof collapsing on top of them. 

"What?" Harry asked, revealing a large blanket from behind him, "There's no way Rita Skeeter can find us here,"

"Where even are we?" Frankie asked, seating herself on the blanket.

"The Shrieking Shack," Harry replied casually, pulling a basket out from beside a dusty couch. 

"I didn't realise you were planning on killing me," Frankie remarked, inching closer to Harry, "I would've worn my nicer jeans," 

Harry laughed sarcastically, laying beside her and using his elbows to prop himself up. Frankie smiled. Harry had a prettier smile than Niklas. Harry's seemed filled with layers of charm and soft mischief that screamed he could break a heart, but never yours. She'd heard girls around their year gush over him, shout-whispering about how he was so beautiful because he was the chosen one. Frankie thought he was pretty simply because he was. 

"Sooo," Harry began, pulling two butterbeers out of the basket, "Anything new happened with you?"

Frankie shrugged, taking the cup from his hand, "Been getting a lot of from my mum and dad. It's been kind of weird,"

"Your dad?" Harry implored, leaning towards her. 

"I didn't tell you about that?" Frankie frowned when he shook his head, "I guess it slipped my mind. We've had a pretty big year already,"

"This is way more important than me accidentally cheating the system," Harry pointed out, his eyes flickering down to her lips, "You've met your dad?"

"Not sure, I think so," Frankie admitted, glancing out the window, "He just appeared out of nowhere. I don't even know what to think,"

Frankie let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through her hair. The year hadn't allowed her much time to think about it all, and it felt as though the floodgates had been opened to let her pent-up emotions bubble to the surface in rapid succession. It was true she didn't know what to think. She didn't even know how to feel. Rian wasn't a terrible person. That's what made the entire thing even more difficult. If he had just been a French CEO who didn't care about much, she would've been able to hate him in peace. 

"Well, do you like having him around?" Harry asked, setting his cup down. 

"My mum loves him," Frankie shrugged, taking a sip of her butterbeer. 

"That's not what I asked,"

"Yeah, yeah, I think so. That's the problem," Frankie admitted, staring helplessly at Harry. They stayed silent, letting minutes pass as the moon shone through the broken glass. Eventually, Frankie shifted in her seat, sighing into a smile, "What do you think of Skeeter? Can't believe she found out about how you cry with Moaning Myrtle sometimes,"

Harry laughed with her, shaking his head. She could've guessed he had also had his fair share of students whispering about him and asking him about the news article. Though it was something that had followed Harry around since their first year, the constant rumours and whispers about what was true and what wasn't, but now it had pushed out past the Hogwarts bubble. 

"Hannah Abbott said she was 'really sorry but thinks Draco and Frankie are cuter together and I should try someone more in my lane,'" Harry mimicked the Hufflepuff's voice, rolling his eyes as Frankie broke into laughter, "I mean it's just ridiculous, Lavender asked if we were really even dating,"

Frankie smiled slightly, subconsciously moving closer to him, "And what'd you say?"

"Is this a trick question?" Harry joked, turning towards her to speak again only to draw a breath due to their closeness. 

Frankie could feel Harry's breath, breathing in the sweet trace of butterbeer. She'd never expected to feel butterflies explode in her stomach in a haunted shack, but Harry had always surprised her. Her hands were supporting her as she hovered over Harry, though she was certain they would betray her and give way under the pressure. Slowly, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. 

He kissed her back, softly as he had done when he kissed her, pushing a strand of her hair back as he cupped her cheeks. 

"Best to say no to Lavender, I guess," Frankie smiled, her lips hovering inches away from his own before pushing herself back to grab her butterbeer. 

"You're confusing, Marsh," Harry whispered, a soft smile lingering on his face as he watched her.