Harry wasn’t sure what made him do it - or why he had even agreed to it. Of all the things that he could have been doing on his day off, sitting in Florence Fortesque's in a rather uncomfortable silence with Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson. How did he go from doing a simple bit of shopping to being coerced into getting coffee and ice cream? Especially since he was very sure that the former Slytherin woman was secretly plotting to murder him in his sleep.
Thank god she hadn’t the faintest idea where he lived. He couldn’t say the same for Blaise, however. That lunatic always seemed to know where he was. Harry wasn’t even sure how he could manage that, he made very sure never to tell him.
The three of them had been sitting in the small parlor for a good thirty minutes after having left the rather empty streets of Diagon Alley. Blaise, Harry learned, had been accompanying Pansy for her biweekly shopping trip for new robes (it looked like she had only bought a pair - purple, by what Harry could see from the bag), when they had run into Harry as he left Gringotts. It had been Blaise’s idea to get coffee, Pansy had instantly looked disgruntled and unsure of which of the two men she wanted to strangle more being sighing and agreeing - so long as they could get brownies as well.
When they had entered the parlor the former Slytherins had instantly gravitated toward what Harry was sure was their usual booth and sat down, giving Harry their orders without even asking if he would order for them. He had rolled his eyes but made no attempt to argue with them; simply because he did not want to listen to prattle on about how it was the right and proper thing to do since Blaise was apparently paying, and by that she meant that he would pay Harry back at a later date.
Harry was sure he’d never get so much as a sickle back.
So there they sat, a cup of coffee and a large brownie each.
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his spot across the other two, picking up his coffee to take a sip, carefully glancing at the other two from over the rim of his mug. Blaise was looking out the window to his left, with Pansy on his right taking a rather painfully small bight of her brownie.
“Oh well this is dull,” Pansy sighed exasperatedly, drumming her fingers on the table. “I’ll just say it then, shall I? Potter you must know where our dear Draco has run off to this time. His mother is terribly worried about him. You see, she had sent me three owls in just this week alone!”
Blaise barked out a short laugh before taking a drink of his coffee to avoid Pansy’s glare. “Are you sure it’s Narcissa that’s worried about him, and you’re not just writing yourself these letters to convince yourself that someone else must be worried about it?” He asked raising an eyebrow. “He’s a big boy now. I even hear he folds his own clothes! Why, just last month he was telling Daphne how he was always having to fold Potter’s clothes - and do the cooking on the rare occasion.”
Both Pansy and Harry looked disgruntled.
“He hasn’t said,” Harry managed to choke out. “And he does not fold my clothes!”
“That’s not what Daphne said-”
“Shut up, Zabini.”
Pansy narrowed her eyes. “Well, no matter. I’m sure that he’ll turn up,” she sighed, flipping a strand of hair over her shoulder. “He always does. He’ll start to miss his mother, you see. It always happens.”
“I think you mean he’ll miss Potter’s bed.”
“Shut up, Blaise. Stupid things come out of your mouth when you talk,” Pansy snapped. Harry flushed.
Harry looked up for a moment, thoughtful, as he tried to will the flush away from his cheeks. Maybe he could just get up and leave. It wasn’t like he was needed there - and he still wasn’t too sure why he had agreed to join them. “He mention something about getting a cat-”
“Oh, he’s quite allergic,” Pansy interjected.
“ - A hairless cat, then.”
Pansy blanched. “That’s not a cat. That’s a fat rat.”
“Fine, he mentioned something about getting a bloody ferret!”
Blaise couldn’t contain his laugher. There was a certain reason why he had insisted the three of them get coffee.