Harry Potter and The Boy Who Had No Choice

None of your business

Chapter Six

The news of Ginny and Harry's official breakup spread through Gryffindor like wildfire. It had only been a few days and both the Boy-Who-Lived and his ex were now being constantly berated by questions about their past relationship or advances from other single Gryffindors.

Harry still hadn't talked to Ginny since their walk by the lake; he was trying to respect her request for some time away from him. But he still found himself missing her company. Every now and then, he would catch her eye and she'd smile his way, but he pledged that he wouldn't talk to her until she talked to him, although he longed to gossip with her about all of the various girls that had approached him over the last few days. He knew Ginny would find it funny given the numerous suitors courting her.

Oddly enough, Harry's one escape from all the attention was detention with Malfoy. At least there, no one asked him out or tried to proposition him. All he had to face in detention was Malfoy, and given the choice between mobs of teen girls and his former nemesis, Harry would surprisingly go with the latter. At least, until Malfoy decided to bring up Ginny in Slughorn's classroom one Wednesday night.

"So how's the Weaslette?" Malfoy smirked. Harry looked up from his polishing. They had finished the first cabinet of potions supplies and were now onto the second. It was slow work, but Slughorn insisted they do it without magic. At this rate, Harry figured they might be finished cleaning by the end of term.

Harry stared blankly at Malfoy. For the last three weeks, the only communication the two boys shared was either a few curt words of instruction from Malfoy at the beginning of every detention or the occasional muttered insult.

"What?"

"Are you deaf?" Malfoy sneered, but cleared his throat and repeated himself. "How's the Weaslette?"

"Don't call her that," Harry said through gritted teeth. He hated it when Malfoy referred to Ginny that way. She might not be his girlfriend anymore, but she was still his friend, and the blonde was dead wrong if he thought he could mouth off with no consequences.

"Fine." He rolled his eyes and scrunched his eyebrows as if he was concentrating very hard. "What's her name again? Gwenyth." He pretended to consider for a moment, scratching the side of his head with a long, bony finger. "No, Gianna."

"Ginny." Harry seethed. Malfoy knew perfectly well what Ginny's name was.

"Yes, how's Ginny?" Malfoy sighed but still smiled mischeviously. He returned to his polishing, but that damn smirk stayed plastered on his face.

"She's fine," Harry said curtly. He could feel Malfoy's amusement radiating off of him and he so badly wanted to wipe the smug look off his face. "We're not together anymore though, if that's what you thought."

"Oh." That did the trick. Malfoy was not used to being wrong. "I just assumed-"

"Well, we're not," Harry interrupted bluntly. A few moments of quiet passed. A new glint appeared in Malfoy's eye.

"Too many girls begging for a date with the Chosen One to stay tied down, Potter?" Malfoy joked. He arched one eyebrow suggestively and Harry felt his face burn with embarrassment.

"Of course not." Harry brushed Malfoy off, furiously scrubbing at a beaker with his rag.

"Be careful or you'll break that thing." Malfoy pointed out. Harry glowered but stopped polishing the glass so aggressively. "I personally don't understand what they see in you," Malfoy continued. "Your hair's far too messy, you have no style, and you smell like-" At this, Harry stared at Malfoy. The blonde boy stopped talking and pursed his lips together, his ears turning a slight pink. "Let's just say they must like you for your personality," he quickly finished.