Quidditch now replaced by detention with Snape, the rest of the week went by slowly, even though the Saturday match loomed in Harry's mind "-like the third game in a best-out-of-three-series - like the inevitable call of the grim reaper - like the APOCALYPTIC DAY OF JUDGMENT THAT IT IS!!"
"..little redundant, isn't that?" Harry grumbled.
"Potter. The reason I asked you to scrub the floor is that it requires no talking. Not to me, not to yourself, not even to the floor - intellectual match for you though it may be..." Snape trailed off irritably and returned to his reading at the desk. The potions classroom was dark and oppressive as usual, and there were strange substances on the floor that Harry had never noticed before..
"I wonder why Draco is being so stubborn. He has to give in SOON. On Saturday I will win him over with my declaration of love. then he will tell me he feels the same, and his dad abuses him and he is going to refuse to take the Dark Mark and Pansy Parkinson-"
"-Pansy Parkinson!" Harry stopped too late.
Snape glanced up from his book ("Managing Moods: A Werewolf's Guide to That Time of the Month"). "Potter, is one to assume you meant that failed love potion for Miss Parkinson?"
"Uh oh !! he found out it was a love potion!!"
"' course he did, he's the potions master."
"Potter." It was not a question.
"THINK FAST!"
"Er - that's an interesting book you have there, Professor Snape.. Sir."
Snape couldn't resist. "You're not the only one trying to keep dark secrets at this school," he sneered with a flicker of a grin.
"What does THAT mean? Is Snape a werewolf??? where's Draco when I need someone to hug and cry into their shoulder?!"
If Snape was at all amused by Harry's confused expression, he did not show it. He put his book down slowly and produced a small white envelope. "Speaking of which, does this look familiar?"
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
"............" Harry stared.
"I thought so."
"What was in that letter? WHICH ONE IS THAT? I'M GONNA KILL THAT BIRD!"
"Allow me to give a dramatic reading," said Snape, and he proceeded to read in his black, sardonic voice. "Dear Slytherin Sex God..."
Luckily, Harry did not have to hear the rest; he fainted dead away.
---
Saturday was blustery and overcast. "Least it's not a raging thunderstorm like in movie 3," Harry thought. As soon as the game began, Slytherin took possession of the Quaffle. The play-by-pay announcer was a Gryffindor, and made no attempts to hide her bias, since a healthy dislike of Slytherin was a requirement for the post.
"Weasley just barely escaped that bludger, poor guy - and there's Figgs with the Quaffle-"
Harry ignored these developments. He would act first, because optimally he could make his confession to Malfoy THEN get the Snitch.
"I'll have them both!!"
"Right." He scanned the field - finally caught sight of Malfoy hovering near the Slytherin goal. Then Malfoy dove - after the snitch? "Ok, Action!" Harry zoomed towards him. "MALFOY!" He called through the wind.
Malfoy ignored him, and continued on his course.
Harry smirked. "Well I'm faster." He soon caught up, and then paced his rival. "Hey, didn't you hear me?!" he called.
"Buzz off, Potter!"
"You didn't show up Tuesday night!!"
"I didn't make you any promises!"
"You're supposed to be unable to deny your subconscious urges! It has nothing to do with PROM---" a bludger shot past Harry's head, and he was nearly swept off course. "hey!" Malfoy was still chasing the snitch. After cutting through the middle of a quaffle pass, Harry caught up to him again. "I WASN'T DONE TALKING TO YOU!"
"THEN TALK!" Malfoy turned his bitter gaze towards Harry.
"AHHH THE EYES!"
"Ah - Right! --" he had to raise his voice above the wind, "I've noticed that we have a lot in common- since you are really the most misunderstood person I know-"
"THE POINT, POTTER-"
"WE SHOULD BE TOGETHER!"
Malfoy looked appalled.
"Don't look at me like that - I know your true feelings!--" Another bludger zoomed by and Malfoy took the opportunity to fly off in the opposite direction. Harry grimaced and chased after him. "BE HONEST WITH YOURSELF! You must overcome your past history and admit your feelings for me! Don't you want to find HAPPINESS? - Maybe stay at Hogwarts with me over winter break? Move in with me this summer? Join the good guys and fight Voldemort against the backdrop of a blooming romantic relationship?? Call me cutesy pet names?? Express your feelings for me to the lyrics of bad pop songs?? Talk to me in italics??! Change your name to Malfoi??!! BEAR MY CHILD???!!!"
"POTTER!" Malfoy had been fumbling around in his robes looking for his wand, which he now pointed at Harry's broom. "I'm not gay and neither are you! Come back down to EARTH, why don't you!? IMPEDIMENTA!"
The spell stopped Harry's broom, but he continued, and flew right off the end of it. "DEATH FOR THE SAKE OF LOVE!! HOW ROMANTIC!!" he cried as he plunged towards the ground.
---
Hours Later, Harry awoke in the infirmary wing, a place he had become all too familiar with over the years. His head ached, but other than that he didn't feel any pain.
"Good, you're alive," said Hermione primly.
"Madam Pomfrey says you were suffering from extra-normal sensory overload- er something like that - and a lot of broken bones -- but she's cured all that!" Ron looked very pleased with this.
"What?" Harry looked around the room, confused. "What did I have?"
"Delusions of Romantic Grandeur is the non-medical term, I think," said Hermione.
"Hey, who brought the flowers?" Harry asked, spotting a big bouquet of daisies.
"No one knows," answered Ron warily.
"Maybe-" started Harry.
"I thought she said she fixed that!" Ron turned to Hermione wide eyed.
"She did, let him finish."
"Uh... maybe it was from Ginny?" asked Harry.
"Hey, here comes Hedwig," announced Ron, as the owl flew in through the open window to Harry's left.
"GOOD, we need to talk!" Harry sat up in bed. Hedwig flew over and nipped at his ear affectionately. "Don't try that with me - I know you've been sending my letters all over to the wrong peo- what's this?" He took a new note from Hedwig's leg.
"Oh, what's it say?" asked Hermione, curiously trying to lean over.
"I'll read it out loud, I suppose," said Harry, unravelling it. "Ok, it reads:
'Potter,
Despite all the times I've cursed you, I was rather unnerved to see you nearly kill yourself in such a pathetic manner this afternoon. Try to be a bit more careful in the future. And stop sending sappy love notes all over the school and spend your time studying instead. Unless, that is, you want to spend more detention time with me.
Yours,
Slytherin Sex God,
a.k.a Professor Snape' - AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" Harry fell back on the pillow white faced; Ron and Hermione went through various expressions of horror and disgust.
"Harry, what have you done!?" cried Ron
"I don't know... but we'd better ask Madam Pomfrey to fix that too," he answered
"I hope he was being facetious.." started Hermione.
"We could investigate, but that would be another story," said Ron.
"One that I don't have the energy to go into right now," sighed Harry. "Bloody Malfoy," he added. "This is all his fault. Wait 'til I see him next. I'll curse him from here to the next continent..."