Uncharted

I’ve been sleeping in his Quidditch sweater instead of wearing it around. I can’t track down any extra blankets, the Slytherin area is damn cold, and no one sees me wearing it if we’re all asleep anyway. He’s been hinting to get it back for a good two weeks now, which is why I took the seat next to him in Charms. We ignored each other until I slid his folded sweater onto my lap. He eyed it from the corners of his eyes before looking up at me. I saw him in my peripheral, but I otherwise just focused on Flitwick’s lesson.

Marcus coughed obviously, but I still ignored him. Then he just grabbed for it, which jolted my nerves and legs up. He bit down on his bottom lip instead of shouting from the pain. I immediately lowered my legs and clutched his large, injured hands in my small-in-comparison hands. He gulped as I gently massaged the hurt area. I created a subtle draft and directed it between my hands to soothe the hot pain with a cold touch.

Flitwick cleared his throat and then said, “Amena. Marcus. We are learning Charms, not how to be charming.”

A few girls giggled, some boys snickered, others didn’t care, others were much too focused.

I immediately let go of his hand and went back to my notes. Marcus grinned and looked at me a couple of times, but I ignored him for the rest of class. I hurriedly put all of my things back into my messenger bag. I quickly turned to give him back his sweater, but he was standing and stretching a ridiculous amount. I gulped while being slammed into a state of pure awe as his shirt rose above his belly button. His skin, although pale, covers some gorgeous, gorgeous, abdominal muscles. Crazy defined oblique muscles, an eight pack, that V thing...

I didn’t get to appreciate what I could see of his upper body for long, since one of his cockblock friends snickered and said, “You like what you see Amena?”

I sneered while practically jumping up. “I was reminded of your mother.”

He sneered back at me while rolling his eyes and walking out.

I drew in a deep breath while rushing out of the classroom. Marcus rushed out after me, but I leaped for a shifting staircase. I was twenty minutes late for potions, but I only occasionally aid for that class anyway. I popped in, checked myself off on Snape’s daily schedule, and then quietly left. I was almost at the door before his drone froze me by the door.

“Amena.”

I swallowed my excess spit and slowly turned to face him, “Yes, Professor Snape?”

He bitterly sighed, “Professor McGonagall has informed me with your training schedule. You may take Potter now.”

I didn’t realize I had a schedule. Oliver must have drafted one. Nevertheless, I quickly shook my head up and down while replying, “Thank you, sir.” I looked at Harry and waved him over to me. Harry hurriedly put all of his things away, leaving his cauldron for Ron, so that he may finish the project while Harry’s out. We left side by side, but in complete silence. I led us out of the castle and stopped on the steps. I looked down at Harry and said, “I doubt the woods is too welcoming today.”

Harry laughed and agreed with me.

I licked my lips before quickly sucking them and then puffing them out with a sigh. “We don’t have access to any brooms.”

Harry nodded.

I frowned and then said, “I suppose we can start getting you in shape.”

Harry looked down at his body.

“You’re obviously not fat. You’re just average.”

Harry looked up at me with confusion, “Then why will we be—?”

“You’re average. If you want to be the best you have to be your best. Average isn’t your best.”

He just nodded and agreed to meet me at the Quidditch Pitch after he changed into something he could work out in. I was there a few minutes before him, but I also have less distance to cover. Harry showed up in a pajama shirt and a pair of loose, but still fitting, shorts. I, on the other hand, wore a loose silver shirt over my sports bra and a pair of green mesh shorts.

I showed Harry some basic stretches before setting us off on a short jog. Our jogging eventually became a full on, high-knee sprint to the farthest seating. I made him run up and down the stairs once before he stopped to try and recover. I made him lightly jog in place while he raised his hands above his head, slowly expelled all the air out of his lungs, and then, calmly as he could, inhale. Once Harry felt all right again, we ran in the fashion of butt kicks all the way to the middle of the field. We dropped down and did push ups, planks, kicks, mountain climbers, etc… Harry eventually just laid down on the grass, panting, and looking at me as if I were Voldemort. I sat down beside him, one laugh escaped me before I said, “I know it’s tough Harry. I don’t expect you to be a fitness master any time soon. I just expect you to give it your all.”

He panted out, “Uh huh.”

I smiled and told him to sit on butt and stretch forward. I showed him a couple of useful cool down stretched and explained to him that if one doesn’t stretch after a workout, their muscles stay tensed up instead of smoothing out into their leaner shape. Plus it hurts a lot more later if the cool down is skipped.

Harry and I started off for the castle at a ginger pace, but then the air changed to a terrible, terrible chill. I could practically taste the unnatural, tainted dirt in the air; I didn’t want to look back or around and actually find something, so I just made Harry and I sprint back. He wasn’t experiencing fear or adrenaline like me, so I literally set small, quickly put out, fires near his feat so that he’d run. I went up to the Gryffindor Tower with him, where I let him walk, but made him skip every other step as he ascended. Somehow, some way, Draco found me when I was halfway to the Slytherin common area. I sighed as he walked next to me. He eyed me a few times before saying, “You’re awfully sweaty. Running away from that troll?”

I rolled my eyes and asked, “And who is the troll?”

He laughed semi-awkwardly, “You know, Flint.”

Air rushed out of my nose before I stated, “Marcus isn’t a troll, he’s just… rather unpleasant.”

Draco laughed. “Have you seen his face?”

“I’ve also seen his soul.”

He rolled his eyes at me, “Being a bit dramatic, aren’t you?”

I stopped walking and stared at him. “Are you really that out of the loop? Have you heard nothing about the last two months?”

“I know you’re avoiding him much more since the duel, whatever that was—”

I groaned to cut him off. “My God, boy.”

He quickly raised and lowered his brows.

I squatted just a bit, put my hands just above my knees, and looked into his eyes. “He tried to attack me toward the beginning of the year. Out of his rage that I’m more skilled magically than he, and, of course, due to the terrible accident between us back in our First Year.”

Draco was silent.

“Out of fear and shock I blocked him, but he was adamant.”

Draco remained silent.

I sighed, “Long story short, half of his soul lives in me, half of my soul lives in him.”

Draco’s brows rose once more. “You’re kidding me.”

I sighed and shrugged while cocking my head to the right and smashing up my mouth in the shape of a crooked frown. “What can I say, kiddo? Our hate has made us soul mates. Ironic, isn’t it?”

Draco’s jaw dropped.

“Now, at the duel, during the evacuation, I healed the physical wounds I scared him with six years ago during our accident. I think Harry talked to a snake at some point and now the school is hell bent on proving him the Slytherin Heir, which is why he was sorted into God damn Slytherin.” I sighed and continued while Draco chuckled, “Anyway, I’m sweating because I’ve been training Harry in the way of arse kicking.”

Draco sighed, “Shouldn’t you be training me?”

I sneered at him and stood back up, “I wouldn’t be training anyone if you didn’t cheat your way into replacing me.”

Draco gulped while his whole body stiffened.

I walked away from him while he found some composure. I suddenly felt bad. I stopped, more out of shock than anything else. I looked over my shoulder at him; it was obvious just how rejected and terrible he felt. I eternally sighed and then said, “Draco?”

He perked up a bit and looked at me.

I called him over with a motion of my hand. I drew in a deep breath when he was by my side and walking with me again. “Regardless of any potential love connection,”

He smirked.

I bit down on the inside of my bottom lip; “I’m much too old for you. It’s just wrong, really. Maybe in ten years when the difference isn’t quite as obvious.”

Draco couldn’t help his beam.

I drew in another deep breath and swallowed my excess spit. “Besides, I’ve entangled myself in a terrible mess with Flint.”

Draco nodded.

I stopped walking.

So did he.

I looked at him, slowly breathed out, and then said, “Stop going out of your way to try and impress me. Most girls will be attracted to you, not who you puff yourself up to be. Okay? Calm down a bit and perhaps we can be friends or something.”

He was a bit embarrassed, the blush in his cheeks gave that away, but he accepted my advice regardless. He nodded and continued walking with me. He didn’t talk to me; I didn’t talk to him.

…

Did I gain a sudden new branch of conscience? This … pity? No. This… care.

I wasn’t a psychopath before this moment.

Oh dear God.

Marcus Flint. Marcus Flint! Flint has added to the good person part of me. FLINT. GOOD PERSON PART.

Insert intense frown here and now.