Story Title: Imaginary Friend
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Word count for this installment: 1,445
Running Total no. of words for entire story:1,445
Summary: Harry thinks he's loosing his mind. He has an imaginary friend but is she as imaginary as he thinks? Response to a challenge by reptilia28 on the forum side. VERY AU!
A/N: This is my first challenge response in a very long time so please be gentle.
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Harry Potter was vegetating. There was no other word for it.
He was lonely, no girlfriend, a dead-end job and, he admitted sullenly as he took another swig of the bottled beer in his hand, no life. He had decided that tonight, along with every other night of his adult life it seemed, he would sit on his couch and watch whatever happened to be on television.
Since Harry had lost the remote in the mass of cushions and empty beer bottles the TV was stuck on a very compelling home shopping channel, he was almost completely sure he needed an Ab-roller and it was absolutely essential that he buy that cream that would make his bikini line immaculate when he heard a very audible crash in his bedroom.
Tearing his eyes away from the woman modelling an expensive looking bracelet that was just £19.95 (Plus postage and packing) he focused his attention on the door of his room. He was seriously debating getting up from his comfortable position to investigate but as the television began to exclaim that the £19.95 (plus postage and packing) price tag had been slashed down to half price Harry became distracted from the unusual sounds of his flat. Just as he was picking up the phone to place his order yet another crash emanated from his bedroom and after only another second looking at the television he stood and made his way to the room causing the noise.
He realised belatedly that he should have probably picked something big and heavy up to defend himself against any attacker but as he burst into his room (the element or surprise is key he told himself) he thought the idea was laughable. Standing in the middle of the room looking decidedly frustrated was a petite woman with tussled hair and ruffled clothing about a head shorter than Harry. He decided immediately that this woman, whoever she was, had absolutely no business being in his flat let alone his bedroom and he proceeded to tell her as much with what Harry would later insist was a very manly roar of surprise. The woman however would counter his insistence with a snort of laughter and a retort about the scream sounding more like a seven year old girl should have issued it.
Regardless of the girlish scream Harry was still in a predicament. "Who the hell are you?!" He asked once he had regained his composure.
"What do you mean 'Who the hell am I'? Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my bedroom!?"
"Um no, this is my bedroom thank you very much." Harry said gesturing to his clearly male bed duvet and comforter.
"What have you done to my bed you freak!?" The woman screamed causing Harry to jump slightly.
"It's my bed!" he countered "It's my bedroom! It's my flat!"
"No it's not now get out!" The woman moved towards him with such speed that Harry almost fell backwards over his badly placed pile of laundry in order to avoid her.
"Whoa whoa whoa! Stop there!" Harry said quickly holding his hands up in surrender. No matter how petite this woman was, the fire in her eyes told him not to mess with her and so he kept his hands even as she backed off a little. "How about we start this again? Hello, my name is Harry Potter and this is my flat."
The woman glared at him but sighed and replied "Hello Harry Potter, I'm Hermione Granger and this is my flat!"
"Well Hermione Granger" he exaggerated "It was very nice to meet you but I think it's time you left."
Before Hermione could protest Harry had her arm held firmly and proceeded to march her out of the room.
"Now hang on just one second!" Hermione exclaimed before she slammed the brakes on and forced Harry to stop in the middle of the living room where the presenter on the television had just produced a matching watch to the bracelet for just £30.95 (plus postage and packing). "What drivel are you watching?" She said momentarily forgetting her argument.
"QVC." Harry answered automatically.
"Why?" she questioned incredulously.
"Well I lost the remote and I was comfortable so…"
"Why didn't you just get up to change it?"
"I said I was comfortable!"
"So you watched QVC?"
"Yeah, I watched QVC."
"Well that's just lazy."
"Yeah well I was comfo- hang on why am I defending myself to an intruder!?" Harry suddenly realised beginning to frogmarch Hermione to the door once again.
"What do you think you're doing?! You can't throw me out of my own flat! You're the intruder here!" Hermione began to protest again.
Just as she was about to launch into another tirade Harry slammed the door in her face before locking it and putting the chain on. He wasn't risking that again.
He shook his head slightly before turning to the television he had been distracted from to see a necklace matching the watch and bracelet flash up on the screen for just £50.95 (plus postage and packing).
Harry flopped back down in front of the television and grabbed the beer that he had so carelessly cast aside in his extremely strange encounter and drank the last of the dregs in the bottom of the bottle. Shaking it slightly, (just in case he always said) he tossed the empty bottle onto the overflowing bin and walked into the kitchen to grab another chilled bottle from the fridge. Flipping the cap off with the bottle opener on the counter top Harry made his way back to the couch paying very little attention to where he was going until he walked right into a very firm object in his path that he was sure shouldn't have been there. He had been very careful to make the perfect and most efficient path to and from the fridge to the couch.
Looking down at what had gotten in his way the very manly roar of surprise (also known as the girlish scream of terror) almost escaped him once again.
"Hermione what the hell?!" he almost yelled
"Don't 'what the hell' me Harry!" she countered "You can't throw me out of my own flat!"
"Alright that does it!" Harry once again took hold of her arm and began to lead her to the door again. Frowning slightly as he saw it in the exact state he had left it, chain done and lock locked he opened it all up and took Hermione with him over the hall to his neighbour's door. Knocking firmly Harry glanced at Hermione who looked rather pleased with herself "Mrs Figg loves me. I take care of her cat when she's away" she said in answer to Harry's questioning look.
"Uh huh" he said disbelievingly "We'll see." At that moment a very hassled looking Mrs Figg wrenched the door open and glared at Harry.
"What do you want?" she said angrily, she and Harry had never had the best relationship in the world… he probably should have thought of that before knocking on her door.
"Mrs Figg, have you seen this woman breaking into my flat?" he asked gesturing to Hermione beside him.
"What are you talking about?!" she said getting even angrier, if that was possible.
"This woman. She got into my flat twice now and I wanted to know if you've seen her breaking in."
"Potter-"
"Mrs Figg please, this is very important. I need to know how she's getting in. There's no way she could have got in through the window- there's not a chance she'd have been able to run downstairs and get all the way back up the fire escape and through my window in the time since I threw her out and saw her again but my door was still as I left it after I threw her out so either she's very thorough or she knows another way in which case I need to know beca-" Harry was stopped short with a sharp slap.
"There's no one there you lunatic!" Mrs Figg raved
"What?" Harry looked to his side where Hermione was standing where she would clearly be visible to his angry neighbour. "She's right there."
"Don't be an idiot. There's no one there! Now get lost I'm watching Judge Judy!" a split second later the door was slammed in their faces leaving them both a confused.
"Why would she say she couldn't see me?" Hermione wondered aloud mirroring Harry's thoughts, so immersed in his thoughts he strode back into his flat leaving Hermione standing outside Mrs Figg's door looking extremely lost and a little hurt.
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