Chapter - 36 : Fire and Fury Part - 2

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"Tell me about it, Amanda."

For a moment she bristled as if preparing for a rant, but instead something seemed to break in her and she wilted and buried her head in her arms. "I thought he was this really great guy, you know." The sound came out muffled. "That we'd grow old together, love each other, have adorable little babies..."

"What happened?"

"He changed," she said, sounding heartbroken. "He... He said..."

Hands trembling, she downed the last of her glass, only for an unfortunate hiccuping sob to overcome her at the same time.

Harry winced as he watched the flames shoot out of her nose.

Not daring to breathe he braced himself as he awaited the inevitable explosion that was sure to follow...

"Ow," Amanda said petulantly, sounding a great deal like a disgruntled toddler.

The sound was so reminiscent of little Teddy stumbling as he tried to walk and landing on his diaper-clad butt instead, looking utterly confused at how that could possibly have happened that Harry couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

Amanda jerked her head around and scowled at him.

Immediately Harry straightened his face into an expression appropriate for a funeral and solemnly nodded.

She narrowed her eyes.

He didn't dare look away.

"Men are scum!" she said in a challenging tone.

"Um," he said helplessly. He glanced at Rosie, but she was hiding a smile behind her hand as well.

"You two would make a wonderful couple," she said, eyes twinkling.

Amanda whirled back to her, looking utterly betrayed. "I thought you were on my side!"

Rosie shrugged sympathetically. "If I've learned anything in all my years of serving drinks, it's that there's nothing to do about a broken heart but to accept it and move on, deary. The best revenge is living well."

Amanda stared, open-mouthed before she drew it closed with a snap of teeth. She growled low in her throat and pointed at the bartender and then at her empty glass. "Pour me another and then go give bad advice to some other poor sod."

Rosie smiled indulgently, but did as ordered.

"Try not to burn down my pub," she called over her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen.

Amanda growled and swirled the drink in her glass. Harry stared straight ahead, trying desperately not to make eye contact. Harry Potter he may be, but hormonal women on a rampage frightened him like nothing else.

"Well?" Amanda barked, startling him. "Tell me about yourself!"

Slowly he turned his head and looked at her in confusion even as he warily leant away a little.

She rolled her eyes. "It's not every day you get a chance to chat up a bird like me, you know."

Her eyes found his and she captured his gaze, like a predator cornering a rabbit. They pinned him in place and she smiled sultrily. A hand came up and ran slowly through her brown, shiny locks. Drawn to the movement Harry watched her faux-casually twirl a stray strand around her index finger, slowly pushing it back behind her ear. The finger followed after, softly caressing her temple, ear and jaw.

Harry's vision narrowed until there existed nothing but that finger. Lower it went, slowly, seductively sliding over her neck to her collarbone until her whole hand rested on her breast and slid lower, alongside her body, past her bared stomach until it finally came to a stop on her knee.

Suddenly sound rushed back into the world and Harry jerked away as if slapped, blushing furiously as he realised he had been staring – no, leering really.

Amanda chuckled victoriously. "Well, that makes me feel better about myself, at least."

Harry cleared his throat and determinedly stared at his glass and nothing else. His face was so hot he would think all the blood in his body was headed to his cheeks except that certain other bodily functions were responding as well. Awkwardly he shuffled in his seat.

"I don't know why you're complaining about men when women are much more evil," he muttered.

"What was that?" she asked sharply.

Strangely he was much more comfortable with intimidation than embarrassment and her sudden mood change helped him regain his composure a little. She was playing with him, he realised. Playing and winning resoundingly. That would never do.

He took a deep breath and looked up, meeting her eyes. They were a vibrant blue, stormy with anger and looking at him piercingly. "You're right, it's not every day someone like me gets to talk to someone like you." Damn his blush. "I think you would be much prettier if you were not frighteningly angry, though."

"Oh." She blinked and mulled that over. Suddenly she deflated like a pierced balloon as her anger left her. Both of them were quiet as they sipped their drinks.

"I'm normally a lot more fun, you know," she said suddenly.

"I'm not sure I could handle that," Harry retorted absently. When it dawned on him what he'd just said his cheeks lit up tomato red for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. What was with him?

She snorted in her drink – this time without the flames – but otherwise made no comment. Harry was grateful.

Again they fell silent, though this time it was a little more comfortable as they both lost themselves in their own thoughts.

"I just feel so betrayed," she whispered, heartbroken.

His heart skipped a beat in shared sympathy as she voiced how he had been feeling ever since he opened the door to the Great Hall for the first time and saw familiar faces staring back at him without recognition. He closed his eyes. "Lot of that going around these days."

When he opened his eyes again she was staring at him, but this time she looked sad instead of angry. "You too, huh?"

Harry nodded with a grimace and to his surprise she held out her hand for him to shake. Cautiously he took it.

"I'm Amanda."

"Harry," he said, flushing at not having introduced himself before.

"Short, simple, strong. I like it," she said, smiling, before it gained a wicked edge. "You know, you blushing like a virgin is quite adorable."

Predictably even more blood rushed to his cheeks and she threw her head back as she cackled in glee. Even as she mocked him he couldn't help but stare at her. Her face was very expressive and when she laughed it lit up in its entirety. In fact, without the scowl she had been wearing before she was gorgeous. Her cheeks were rosy, proof that the alcohol was getting to her at least a little and Harry found himself wanting to replace that with a blush of his own doing, tease her back even if he had no idea how.

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If you're eager to delve deeper into the story, consider joining my Patreon for exclusive content and early access to new chapters

70+Advanced Chapters there.

(P).(A).(T).(R).(E).(O).(N)

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