Title: Mr. X
Disclaimer: Anything pertaining to Harry Potter and Co. does not belong to me, rather to JKR and anyone else who has stuck their hand into this cauldron.
A/N: I am well aware of the mistakes in Harry's texting…that's half of the point.
Harry watched as his friend yelled and cursed at the small contraption in his hands. The redhead pushed buttons, opened and closed the top and finally gave up. With an annoyed growl, he threw the mobile phone at the couch in their shared flat. The phone then bounced off the couch and slid across the floor.
"Oi! Be careful with that! I just got that for you!" Harry rebuked from his position in an armchair. "It won't work if you throw it at everything every time you can't figure out a function."
"But I have no idea how to get it to talk to Hermione!" Ron retorted, throwing himself onto the couch, arms crossed.
"I already told you, you gotta -" Harry started, but the vibrating of his own phone had interrupted him.
"Wha's that?" Ron asked, unfolding his arms.
Harry looked at the screen. 'One received message' was printed above a picture of an envelope. "I think it's a text message."
"A what?" the redhead inquired.
"A text message," Harry explained. "It's like sending an owl through the phone. I'll teach you that one later."
He opened his inbox.
"Who's it from?"
"(372) 2662 5369? I don't know that number."
"But how would they get your number? You haven't been advertising it, have you?"
Pause. "Well, what's it say?"
Harry opened the text.
"What the hell?" Ron breathed.
"I dunno," Harry answered absentmindedly as he typed his reply.
uh hi. who r u? do i kno u?
A moment passed in silence as both young men stared at the phone. It vibrated again.
Pft, your grammar sucks, I hope you know that. Yes, you know me; well, vaguely, but you do. And as to who I am…well, let's just call me Mr. X. Or at least until we get to know each other better, okay?
"What kind of name is Mr. X?" Ron asked.
"He insulted my misuse of grammar and all you find wrong is that he asks that I don't call him by his real name?" Harry asked, acting wounded.
Ron shrugged. "Just shut up and reply."
yea ok. but, how did u get this #? only my friends have it
The response was quick.
Two words: Amazing. Connections. Oh, another two words: Learn. English. How lazy are you to use the pound sign instead of typing out 'number'?
Ron laughed at this. "Merlin, I hope this guy knows he's just talking to a brick wall about the grammar."
"Shut up, Ron." The redhead barely missed a fist to his arm that would've likely left a large bruise.
"The truth hurts sometimes, mate," he retorted.
Harry ignored him as he typed his reply. im not lazy! and wat sort of connections?
It only took another moment for the clandestine man to send his own text.
So you can't use 'number' but you can type out 'connections'? And what the hell does 'im' mean? Merlin, talking to you can be worse than listening to the house elves. Anyway, only the most amazing connections could score me the number for Harry Potter. Gods, who did you take me for? A plebeian?
"'Plebeian'?" Ron asked.
"A word usually used to refer to people far below oneself," the dark-haired boy answered.
Ron threw his hands in the air. "So you can pull the definitions to random words out of your arse, but you can't be bothered to use proper English? What is wrong with you?"
Harry's mouth was open to argue, but his phone vibrated again.
I'm so sorry, Harry, but I have to go work; can't keep the team waiting. Talk to you later?
"Team? Does he play Quidditch?" Ron asked over Harry's shoulder.
Harry was interested about what team this to which Mr. X was referring, too. wat do u mean, 'team'? do u play Quidditch or something?
Wow, he can also spell out 'Quidditch', capitalized no less. His talents will never cease to amaze me. How 'bout we talk about that next time, okay?
The answer as to whether or not he would allow the other man to talk to him again became apparent, so he quickly typed his reply.
A silence followed the small snap of the phone closing.
"Well," Ron's voice broke through the quiet. "That was interesting."
"You can say that again," Harry conceded, slouching back into his chair with a heavy sigh.
"Well, that-" Ron was quickly shut up with a pillow from Harry's general direction.