the one | h. potter

14. moody harry

Contrary to what the nurse told me, I was back to normal by Saturday morning. The rest of the week went by without a hitch, but I was worried that somehow my capture of Yaxley would be made public. Fortunately, the headline yesterday morning only said Another Death Eater Capture, and provided very few details. The media (specifically, Rita Skeeter) had been badgering the auror department and Kingsley about the arrest all day, but to no avail.

Thank Merlin. I hate dealing with the press. 

But then again, if I ever become Harry's girlfriend like I want to, there'd be cameras everywhere, all the time. 

I'm currently sitting in my room at Malfoy Manor, getting ready for the day even though it's 2 pm. I'm not a morning person, and if I didn't get my morning cup of tea during the week, I'd be in danger of falling asleep during work.

I get up and head to my closet, planning on choosing another sweater and sweatpant combo for the day when I hear a few taps on my window. A small owl is poking on the glass with its beak.

I open the window and the (shockingly small) owl flies in, circles my head a few times, and lands on my owl, Athena's, stand. The tiny owl holds out its leg and starts picking at the owl treat tray on the stand. I untie and unroll the note.

Liz,

If you're free, Harry, Hermione, and I  would love it if you joined us tonight for pub night.

Harry says you need it after the week you had, but Hermione and I think he just wants to see you again...

If you can, send your reply using Pig and come to Grimmauld Place at 6.

If you can't make it, Harry will likely sulk for the rest of the day (so please come, because moody Harry is a nightmare).

Best,

Ron

I smile and blush at Ron's words. I write a quick reply, telling him that he doesn't need to worry about moody Harry and tie it to Pig's leg. The owl hoots, does some more loop-de-loops, and shoots out the window.

The rest of the day passes fast, and before I know it, I'm dressed in a silky white tank top, and black ripped jeans. I look in the mirror and decide to add a jean jacket in case I get cold, and head out the door.

I see Draco on my way to the floo (which is a bit of a walk away, since Malfoy Manor is huge), and he does a double-take. His eyes look me up and down and the stupified look on his face tells me that he's jealous.

"We're you off to?" he asks.

"The pub, with some friends, dad," I joke.

He ignores the joke and clenches his jaw. "Let me know if you need something, okay? Don't get too drunk."

"I'm never drunk."

"Says the girl who drank two bottles of firewhiskey and got plastered at my 17th birthday party."

"Fine. I'll try to not get too drunk."

"Very reassuring. Have fun, and, as your dad, I expect you to be back by morning," he jokes.

I give him a silly salute and step backward towards the floo. "Yes sir."

I step through the green flames and reappear in Grimmauld Place's living room. I can't see anyone, but I hear Harry, Ron, and Hermione talking in the kitchen. I step towards the kitchen and hear Hermione talking.

"You are so shy! When did you become so shy?" I hear Hermione say. "It's surprising you've gotten this far, Harry. Put yourself out there!"

I want to keep eavesdropping, but she's stopped. "Liz?" she asks.

Shit. She must have heard me walk. I enter the kitchen and put on a poker face to pretend I hadn't heard their conversation. "Hey!"

"Liz!" Hermione runs over and hugs me. "Wow, you look great!" I look at her outfit; she's wearing a black, short-sleeved dress, and I wonder if I should've worn one too.

I go over and hug Ron and Harry, the latter who seems to be surprised by my sudden appearance. "Wait, Hermione, aren't you supposed to be at Hogwarts?"

Hermione blushes. "Well, yes, but I've been granted permission to floo back here on weekends."

"Oh, that's neat! So, where are we going?"

"This bar in muggle London. We would go to wizarding pubs, but..." Hermione trails off and side-eyes Harry.

"But we've got a celebrity on our hands," Ron finishes, slapping Harry hard on the back.

"Are we apparating?" I ask.

"Yeah," Harry replies. "Hermione's our designated disapparator for the way home."

I laugh. "Great. Let's get going then?"

Harry laughs and offers me his arm. "Shall we?"

I take his arm and he apparates us away.