apples and scented candles • h.potter ✓

• thirty-three •

Corben bit his lips as he let out a frustrated sigh, trying not to show it to Harry. "And did you, by any chance, order the pizza last night?"

Harry's head whipped in his direction although he tried to look normal a second later. He cleared his throat. "Um - no. Why would you say that?"

There were so many things Corben wanted to say to Harry. His primary purpose to come here was to talk to him and clear things up between them. But that had to wait. "I'll get you something to eat," he said as he stood. "Then we'll talk."

He went into the kitchen, Harry following. The sight of the dining table brought Corben to sigh again in frustration, for there was the pizza box, on top of which was a pizza with only half of it gone. He shot a pointed look at Harry, who looked instantly guilty.

"Is this the pizza that you had for dinner, breakfast, and lunch?"

"I didn't feel like cooking."

Corben made him sit down and drink some juice that he found in the fridge. Then he managed to make some French toast after scouring the kitchen for ingredients.

Harry, however, didn't seem to have any appetite. He moved his fork along the rim of his plate, every now and then spearing it into the toast but not showing the slightest interest in eating. "I'm sorry about yesterday," he said.

Corben smiled, reached out to press his hand. "It's alright. It's not a big deal."

"You're not mad at me?" Harry asked, sounding as though he genuinely had expected Corben to stop speaking to him out of anger.

"Of course not. We had an experience. We learned a lesson. And we both now know better what we want for our future dates."

Harry dropped his fork on the bowl and sat staring unblinkingly at Corben. "You still want to go on dates with me?"

"Oh, Harry." Corben couldn't help but laugh. "As I said, it's not a big deal. I actually enjoyed skating. It was just unfortunate that I fell."

"But you'd prefer not to do such things in the future."

"Well, I won't really mind," Corben conceded. "I love that you wanted to introduce me to a new muggle activity. But I'd also like to just hold your hand and sit idly and do nothing. You know?"

For the first time since Corben had arrived, Harry smiled. "We can certainly do that. I'm sorry I was being so forceful with you."

His mood lifted, Harry now started eating. Corben accompanied him silently. He thought about Harry's reaction when he was storming away from him, and something clicked in his mind. Ron's words when he had gone to Hogsmeade with Theo.

"How's your ankle?" Harry asked through a mouthful of bread.

"Good. Doesn't hurt anymore. Listen, Harry." He cleared his throat, looking for the best way to broach the subject. "Ron told me once that you have the tendency to - um - blame yourself for things aren't really your fault." Harry's fingers tightened around the fork, his jaws stiffened. Corben started to regret bringing it up but he plunged on. "So I was wondering if - if that is what has caused this - well, if that is what you were doing again."

Harry glared at his food. His fist trembled like he was planning to crush the fork into splinters. Corben, suddenly scared, wrenched the fork away and grabbed his hands.

"Never mind. You don't have to answer that. I'm sorry I brought it up."

Harry didn't look at him as he said, "So you and Ron have a nice gossip about me behind my back, do you?"

"No!" Corben cried. "It wasn't like that. I ran into him at Hogsmeade once and you were being distant so he was worried about you. He wanted to know if you had spoken to me."