Everything you recognise belongs to JKR and Ure. This is a rip-off or an adaptation, to please myself, of Ure's gentle bawdy frolic 'You win some, you lose some'. You have been duly warned.
Chapter 4 Not with her hung-ups
Just as he had expected, he didn't recognise a prostitute when he saw one. Terry kept telling him which one was. He wondered how - they all looked like perfectly ordinary women to him.
'Don't worry,' said Terry, kindly. 'You'll learn. When you've been around for a while.'
Terry seemed to have packed in a lot more experience. For a start, he had taken out four girls so far and currently had two girl friends. Having been busy with the Voldemort business since sixth year, Harry, so far, had nothing but one fiasco of a date with Cho who had floods of tears to spare in his fifth year.
About this Terry had some wisdom to bestow, 'You will learn how to get what you want out of life. I've learnt you can always get what you want if you just set about it in the right way. Like I have to decide if the auror is what I want. If it is, then I stick with it; if it is not --' he shrugged. 'I move on to the next thing. Whatever the next thing turns out to be. You can't tell till it happens. But that, in a nutshell, is the Boot philosophy… just take life as it comes and sod the lot of 'em.'
Harry wondered if he could live like that; he didn't think that he could. He liked to be able to see some sort of path ahead of him - some sort of goal waiting to be reached. There didn't seem to him to be much point in life if you didn't have something to aim at. (Wasn't Hermione's philosophy rubbing off on him?)
'I do have something to aim at,' said Terry. 'I aim at having fun. What else is there?'
Maybe it's time he set about to have some fun and experience, too. Why shouldn't he?
***
On Saturday morning they had two hours training with Sadismo Grausam, followed by a half-hour break, followed by a curse-breaking class, again with Sadismo Grausam, but with the welcome addition, this time, of five assorted females.
Correction: six. Another had just walked in. Harry felt his throat go dry. Surely with all this lot at his disposal he should be able to make it with at least one?
'So, which d'you fancy?' muttered Terry.
He swallowed. He rather fancied the one who had just walked in. She was small and dark, with short black curly hair, unlike the others, she had this little elfin face, demure but sort of cheeky at the same time. Terry followed the direction of his gaze.
'Mm … not bad. Not bad at all. Of course, you always liked the small and the black hair-ed, didn't you? What with Cho in our fifth year … speaking of which, isn't it Cho over there?' (Apparently, Cho had tried professional Quidditch for a year, now she came to try her hands on auror, or should he say aurors? She'd had a go at 'house champions', hadn't she?)
For most of the session Harry was put to work with Cho, who was still pretty and small, with her oriental looks. But Harry had gone off her long ago. It really had been Cho who actively pursued a relationship of sorts with him three years ago. Mentally he set Cho aside as a last resort. The little dark one -- Sally-Ann, her name was - was definitely top of the list. (Now he's making a list. Hermione did rub off on him. The trouble with Hermione was that He could not put her on his list, or rather, he knew that she wouldn't be interested in making his list.) After Sally-Ann, there was a girl called Mandy whom he wouldn't mind getting his end away with. She was rather round and bubbly, and she had a giggle (he couldn't say he had a thing about all that giggling,), but there was something that did things to him. He put her down as number two. Number three he couldn't quite decide on. It was either another Chinese girl called Su - except that Dean was already making it pretty plain he intended to lay claim to her - or if not Su, then maybe the blonde bombshell at present wasting her energies trying to attract the Lady Zacharias (who was still wearing his vomit-green trousers and scarlet leg warmers). He didn't know the blonde's name but she didn't look like the sort of girl who would say no in a hurry. That was the only reason he hesitated over her. Girls who didn't say no tended to be girls who'd crammed in a lot of experience who according to Terry would practically rape you. Not that he wanted to fight any one for it - and this one was tall and willowy and looked like a Scandinavian sex goddess. He thought he could stand being raped by a sex goddess. She might as well go down as number three.
As he stood watching Sadismo Grausam showing Justin some sort of wand movement (Justin's arm tended to flow about a bit, like a half-set jelly, or jelly-o as the people on the other side of the pond had it.) he ran through his list in his mind:
No. 1 Small dark Sally-Ann
No. 2 Round bubbly Mandy
No. 3 Big blond sex goddess
Reserve: old Cho.
If he couldn't make it with one of them before New Year, then he might as well give up trying.
The following Saturday (he was still attempting, without success, to nerve himself to approach Sally-Ann). Terry said: 'You still interested in getting a place of your own?'
'You bet!'
He was even more interested now than he had been before. After all, if he were going to start making it with 'birds' (Did it matter if she was a witch or not?) - which he most certainly was, sooner or later - he was going to need somewhere where he could take them. He couldn't very well smuggle them up to his bedroom at Auntie Loveday's.
Terry's landlord had a double bed-sit coming vacant in one of his houses also in West Hampstead. Harry and Terry took it together. It would be worth just to have a place of his own. He felt a bit like a farmyard animal, at Auntie Loveday's. He'd have been happier living down in the kitchen than clumping about upstairs amongst the glass-top tables, in perpetual fear of breakage or trekking dirt across the carpet. It wasn't even as if he saw anything of Hermione. When he left in the mornings, for an eight-thirty start at the training, she wasn't yet up. After a day spent practising charms and curses and a lot of the Hun, he felt fit for nothing but a hot-water soak beneath the spy hole (he was growing used to it by now: he even on occasions, made rude gestures at it, just to show his contempt) and a quick dash back along the passage in his flowery pyjama shorts to bed. The only times he ever really saw Hermione were on Saturday mornings at breakfast when Dad came to pick Hermione up for home, and again on Sunday evenings, when Dad dropped her down from home.
Mrs Weasley was worried when he told her about his moving on (he went to see the Weasleys at the Halloween weekend).
'You wouldn't eat properly!' she said, and, 'You could get yourself into trouble.'
'What sort of trouble?'
'Girls,' said Mrs Weasley, 'There'd be orgies.'
'There wouldn't be orgies!' What did she think he was? Some kind of super stud? If he could make it with just one girl he'd count himself lucky. 'It's only a bed-sit, not a penthouse, Mrs Weasley.'
'Woo, hoo!' Ron and the twins catcalled. 'Harrikin boy looking hotty, hasn't got a date yet?' As if Ron himself hadn't got girl problems, too!
Auntie Loveday was surprisingly sympathetic about his moving out. He'd been a bit worried, to tell the truth, in case she might take it personally but all she'd said was, 'Harry, my dear boy, you don't have to apologise. Believe it or not, I can still remember what it was like to be young. You want a place of your own: I perfectly understand.'
It had been Hermione who didn't understand.
'But why?' she kept saying. 'I don't see the point.'
She still didn't, because how could he explain? 'I want a place where I can take girls back …' Auntie Loveday obviously understood.
***
Harry looked across the canteen at Sally-Ann, little and dark, with her cheeky elfin face. He thought he did fancy her.
Armed with Terry's encouragement and the plans he suggested for the day, ('Girl friend of mine's giving a party. This Saturday. Bring her along to that, then at a suitable stage in the evening you can twinkle her back home and I'll guarantee to stay out of the way until the small hours'), Harry surprised Sally-Ann, as she just got her meal at the counter, by handing her some cutlery and inviting her to the party with him. Cho had just walked past, bearing a tray full of shepherd's pie and chips. Sally-Ann, he was pleased to note, had more tastes: like Hermione, she stuck to green salads and yoghourt.
'A party?' She considered the idea, head to one side. 'Whereabouts?'
'Paddington Green.'
'Paddington Green?'
He wondered if she was going to repeat absolutely everything that he said.
'Yes,' he said. 'Paddington Green.'
He waited for her to say it again, but she merely wrinkled her nose and looked doubtful.
'And you'll take me home afterwards?'
''Course I'll take you home afterwards.' After she'd been back to West Hampstead. He'd do anything she wanted, after she'd been back to his place.
'I'll have to be in by midnight. My parents are very strict.'
'No sweat.' He would have plenty of time.
'Do you think we should move?' said Sally-Ann. 'We're holding up the queue.'
'Ah, well --' He stepped back a pace. 'I'll see you on Saturday, then. About seven-thirty?'
'Yes,' said Sally-Ann.
'Good. Great. Um--' still walking backwards, he bumped into the corner of a table: it happened to be Cho's. She regarded him frostily.
'Do you mind?'
'Sorry,' he said. 'Wasn't looking where I was going.'
'I could see that,' said Cho.
He sometimes thought that Cho hated him - she had this tendency to be sharp. Still, whether she like him or not hardly mattered any more: she was only down as reserve. If things went as they should with Sally-Ann, he wouldn't have any need of her.
***
There was only one point which still bothered him. If he could entice her back - and if , once she was back, she proved willing - what bothered him (assuming she actually let him) was whether it was up to him, or whether he could safely leave it to her -
'Leave what to her?' Terry seemed bewildered.
'Um - you know … precautions.' And anyway, what about AIDS?
'What you are talking about,' said Terry, 'is the mechanics. And that is the least of your problems. First get your girl; that's the difficult part.'
However, Terry taught him some contraceptive charms and they went to a muggle public toilet and bought a small packet from a slot machine.
'It is commonly known, my son, as a packet of three,' said Terry. 'To be kept always about your person for when the need should arise -' (was it?)
***
On Saturday evening, Terry and he met Sally-Ann at Paddington underground station, she was already there waiting. Terry and she immediately fell into an easy chat about anything and nothing.
'I once heard people are always early are basically very insecure,' she said.
'And it that what you are?'
'Oh, yes; terribly.'
Terry raised an eyebrow.
'I can't imagine,' he murmured, 'what you have to be insecure about …'
It was Harry, at that moment, who was feeling insecure. He didn't like the way that Terry was taking over - almost as if he were the one who had asked her out. Sally-Ann walked between them, but it was Terry whom she talked to rather than Harry. Probably that was because Harry couldn't think of anything very much to say, whereas Terry had a never-ending flow of banter, which obviously amused. He knew that because Terry's banter always did, and in any case Sally-Ann kept laughing and screwing up her nose. (Did she know whom she came out with?)
'Terry's funny, isn't he? I like people who are funny.' she said, what at last they had reached the party and were alone together (Terry, who was apparently familiar with the place, having gone off in search of someone called Emilia).
'Actually,' said Harry, 'he does already have a girl friend.'
'Oh! I wouldn't want to go out with him,' said Sally-Ann. He wanted to ask her why not, but didn't have a chance. He kept wondering about it all night.
At half past nine, he suggested to Sally-Ann that maybe they should be going now.
'We've only just come!' she said. He gave her another fifteen minutes, then tried again.
'If we went now,' he said, 'We could have a coffee. And something to eat.' In his experience (admittedly limited) girls could never resist the lure of something to eat. (Apart from Hermione, who was always an exception to him.)
'Oh, all right,' said Sally-Ann. 'I suppose we might as well … it's not much of a party, anyway.'
Good, thought Harry; that meant they still had time to make it back West Hampstead. He felt in his jacket pocket to check if the packet of three was still in there: it was. First, got your girl …
But the problem came when Sally-Ann would rather go in a small coffee shop they passed by than go back to his place. After a while of 'tug-of-war', she said, 'I'm not coming to there. If you want a girl who would do that sort of thing you should ask Daphne, she'd do it with any one. And if you want to give me something to eat' - he wasn't sure he did any more - 'you can give it to me here.' He had no choice but to give in.
'I'll have egg, sausages and chips,' said Sally-Ann. (So much for the green salads and yoghourt. Why did he always have to be reminded of Hermione?) 'How about you?'
'I expect you think I'm very odd,' said Sally-Ann.
He shrugged. He had given up thinking women odd: they were just raving potty, the whole lot of them. What with Hermione, who thought of nothing but study and work, the old Cho back in fifth year who had dripped like a hosepipe, and now this one, wittering on about being odd -
'All right, then.' If that was what she wanted - who was he to contradict her? 'So I think you're odd.'
'I knew you did.' Now she was happy. 'Men always do, but I can't help it … it's part of my insecurity thing, - the fact that I don't want to go back with them to have sex.'
Maybe she should have gone into a magical nunnery (Were there such things?). Maybe they should all go into nunneries. It would be better than walking round enticing people. (Hermione was included in 'them' although she didn't do it intentionally, that he knew.)
'Once when I was young,' she said, 'when I was about eleven, I saw this naked man. It was dreadful. I mean, there he was, lying in this field … naked. Doing things. '
'Gosh,' said Harry, getting his own back.
'It wasn't a very nice sight. As a matter of fact, it was revolting.'
'Men are pretty revolting,' said Harry. 'I don't know why you come out with us at all.'
'I wouldn't fancy going out with just anybody,' said Sally-Ann. 'I only ever go out with people I like the look of. Also, I knew you weren't the sort to care only about One Thing. The ones that do … they have a funny look about them.'
He didn't know why she agreed to come out with him, whether it was because she fancied him (whatever that might mean) or whether it was because she held him in contempt.
'What about Terry?' he said. 'Why wouldn't you go out with him?'
'I never go out with bantering men, They're not easy to control.'
Did that mean that he was easy to control? He glowered at her, as the meal and his coffee arrived. Why was it that he could never learn to be predatory? He bet if he were Terry he'd have her back in West Hampstead by now - not only back in West Hampstead, but actually in bed.
He watched her for a while as she tucked into the egg, sausages and chips. For all she was so tiny and delicate-looking, she was going at it like a garbage gobbler. It was a phenomenon he'd noticed before: it was always the little shrimp-like ones that stuffed themselves. Hermione never did. Hermione's appetite was quite normal and healthy, she didn't have anorexia or platefuls of egg and chips. If she'd be here she'd probably just have had a coffee. (There! He was thinking of Hermione again.)
''D'you know who the nicest boy is? The nicest boy of all? It's Kevin. He's sweet. I wouldn't mind going out with Kevin. I'd feel safe with him.'
So she liked the look of Kevin. Why had she agreed to come out with him? He should talk. He liked the look of Hermione. Here he was. He came out with this one.
On the way to her home, she told him more about the naked man, the sight of whom had been so dreadful. It was evidently a subject that engrossed her.
'I mean, can you imagine?' she said. 'When I was only eleven!'
That prompted him of Hebe, who was also only eleven. He bet that if she saw a naked man she wouldn't turn a hair. What, after all, was a naked man to one who had read Lady Chatterley? Likely, she'd go running over to take a closer look.
'It's not very big, is it? My brother's is loads bigger than that,' she'd say.
At least she wouldn't end up with a complex. (If anyone did, it would be the naked man.) Perhaps for sex education, muggle or magical, there was something to be said, after all, for reading Lady Chatterley at the age of eleven.
He accompanied Sally-Ann to her front door. He thought he should dutifully kiss her. But he'd better not. Not with her hung-ups. She'd probably start screaming the place down and he didn't relish the idea of some angry parent rushing out with a wand or worse with a pickaxe, or being charged of indecent assault. Apart from anything else, it might get into the Daily Prophet and then Mrs Weasley would worried sick, and Hermione would never speak to him again. (Or would she? She certainly stood by his side through thick and thin during their Hogwarts years. But it was hard to be certain, with Hermione, now. She seemed have only one set of morals lately, and they were centred entirely on her study and work: being able to do magic is the only thing that matters …)
He thought excessively of only One Thing all the way back to West Hampstead and thoughts of One Thing preoccupied him so much that he nearly splinched himself apparating.
'A likely tale!' Terry laughed when Harry told him Sally-Ann's predicament, 'Whacking in a field … she's having you on!' (Was she? Anyway …)
When their bed time came, Terry said, 'Sweet dreams … or should I say wet ones?'
'Get knotted!' Harry pulled the covers up over his head. There were times when life could be very trying; very trying indeed.