Chapter 8 of Safe House
Oct. 2nd, 2005 04:10 pmTitle: Safe House
Summary: Harry and Draco are put in a safe house for their own protection. Post HBP, big spoilers!
Rating: NC-17
Author: minerva alistor
Where: my lj
skyehawke
The Hex Files
Harry was actually some assistance to Paul in clearing out the store. Being the ex-Slytherin that he was, Paul pointed out that Harry Potter was standing outside on the sidewalk and the last of the stragglers rushed out and surrounded Harry, begging for autographs and handshakes. This gave Paul time to say good night to Fred and George (who were still hard at work repairing George’s hearing) and lock up the shop.
Harry was signing the side of a Basic Blaze Box, his last request, when Paul joined him on the sidewalk. He waited patiently as Harry hugged the little boy’s giggling mum good-bye.
“Sorry about that. I don’t deal with customers on a regular basis. I’m not good at it and the kids are the hardest to get to leave. Fred and George usually have to threaten them with something dreadful. I figured sending them out to you was the quickest bet,” Paul said with an apologetic smile.
Harry, who had been watching the last woman leave over his shoulder, turned to Paul. “It’s alright. I just hate it when they grab my arse.”
Paul quirked an eyebrow. “She grabbed your arse?”
Harry shrugged. “Gave it a quick squeeze, she did.”
Paul pushed on Harry’s shoulder so that his torso twisted forward. Paul gave a dramatic sigh and let Harry go.
“Well, can’t say I blame her for that. It is a nice arse.”
Harry blushed and grinned. He shoved his hands in his pockets.
“So, can George hear yet?” Harry asked as they started down the sidewalk.
“Nope. But they’ll work it out, always do. How have you been since New Year’s? I’ve thought a lot about you, actually. You didn’t seem so happy that night.”
Harry shrugged again, clearly embarrassed. Paul had always acted shy with Harry before.
“Um, yeah, well, I was really overworked at that point. Overworked and under appreciated,” Harry ended with a grumble.
Paul smiled. “Maybe you need a vacation. A weekend in the country. Surely the Ministry would give you a holiday.”
“Actually, I have all the time in the world at the moment. I quit today.”
Paul looked genuinely shocked. “Really?”
“Yeah. They were going to suspend me. Lucius Malfoy filed a complaint. Said I harassed Drac—his son.”
Paul’s lips twisted in a lopsided smirk that made Harry’s heart clench. Suddenly, he felt lightheaded and a little disoriented.
“Ah yes, Little Lord Malfoy.”
“You know him?”
“Knew him. I was in Slytherin, as you know, a year below the two of you.” Paul paused, a frown on his face. “Yes, I knew Draco.”
Harry’s heart skipped a beat. There was something in the way Paul made that statement that he didn’t like.
“How well?”
Paul gave him a dazzling, but cold, smile.
“Well, I thought I knew him very well, but it turns out, no one really does. Bit of a cold bastard, that one.”
Harry’s heart jumped into his throat. “Why do you say that? I mean, I know he wasn’t the nicest bloke when we were at Hogwarts, but I think he’s changed now.”
Paul nearly choked on his own harsh laughter.
“I forgot that you spent all that time with him in that safe house just recently. It would appear he’s done you in as well, then.”
Harry stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk. His head was starting to throb. “What do you mean?”
Paul sighed. “I mean that Draco Malfoy is a user. He takes what he needs, when he needs it, then throws it aside as if it were trash. Even people. Especially people.”
“Yes, but he’s diff—”
“Harry,” Paul said gently, placing his hand on Harry’s arm. “He’s not different, no matter how it seems. Whatever happened between you—and I can tell something happened by the desperately sad look in your eye and your need to defend him—trust me, it meant nothing. It never does.”
Harry’s face fell to his knees. He turned away from Paul and started walking again.
“I’m sorry, Harry.”
“Did the two of you—?”
“Nothing serious, but to me it was everything. I mean, Draco bloody Malfoy. I did think I was rather something. But as soon as I started wanting more than he was willing to give, he gave me a rather heartless lecture on the Malfoy Philosophy of Love.”
Harry swallowed loudly. “Oh? What’s that?”
Paul’s face grew bitter and dark. “Basically that there is no such thing. Sex is sex, marriage is business, and love? A myth. A lie. And no Malfoy was ever stupid enough to believe in a lie.”
Harry’s head was swimming, but his stomach was sinking to the ground.
They walked in silence the rest of the way, and Harry nearly walked right past the secret entrance to Diagon Alley.
“Harry? We’re here. Are you okay?”
Harry stopped with a jolt. “Uh, sorry. Look, I’m not feeling so great all of a sudden. I know it’s terrible of me to invite you out and then leave, but it’s been a stressful day, what with the job and –”
“And hearing that the man you love is a bit of prick. I understand. Anyone would want to go home and crawl into bed after a day like that.”
Harry gave Paul a grateful smile. “Thanks. But I promise, we’ll do this again. Just the two of us, no Fred and George.”
Paul stepped forward and took Harry’s hands. “I could come with you now. I give quite good backrubs. Could help you relax.”
Harry thought about it for all of one second. “Not tonight. I’m sorry, I just want to be alone for a bit.”
Paul let Harry’s hands fall and stepped back. “I understand. But I will keep you to your promise. Here,” he said, fishing in his coat pocket. He pulled out a card and handed it to Harry. “It’s got my floo address on it, in case you want to pop over. Otherwise, you can always find me at the shop.” He leaned forward and kissed Harry’s cheek. “Try not to be too hard on yourself. He is a charming bastard.”
“Yeah. Thanks,” Harry said, holding the card up between two fingers before stuffing it in his own coat pocket. He didn’t kiss Paul back, but Apparated with a loud crack.
**
Harry had been in his flat for less than five minutes when the intercom buzzed, announcing that he had a visitor. He groaned and got up from the couch, where he’d thrown himself in a miserable heap.
“Hullo?” he said into the box.
“Hi, Harry. It’s Ginny.”
Harry wondered if his day could possibly get any worse.
“Hi, Gin.”
“Ron sent me over with some news. Plus, I wanted to talk to you.”
Harry hesitated, his finger pressing the button so hard that his knuckle was white. He was going to tell her not tonight, but he figured that, in the end, it’d be better to just get it over with. He couldn’t imagine what on earth she could possibly want.
“Yeah, alright.” He buzzed her up.
Minutes later, she was in his flat, shaking snow from her coat and her long red hair.
“Is Ron okay?” Harry asked as he took her coat.
“Oh, he’s fine,” Ginny said, making her way towards the couch. Harry sat down in the chair across from her. “He just wanted me to invite you to a charity match he’s playing in day after tomorrow.”
“What? The Home for Children of the War game? He’s playing in that again? I thought the Oliver and the Arrows Keepers, what’s-his-name were doing it this year.”
“The Arrows Keeper was injured last night, so they asked Ron to do it again. Very last minute. I was also thinking that…maybe…you and I could go together.” Ginny looked down at her hands, then back up at Harry.
Harry lowered his eyes in suspicion. He knew Ginny well enough to know she was only playing coy to try and get what she wanted.
“What about Lancelot?”
Ginny plopped back onto the couch and lifted her left arm along the back. She twisted a piece of hair in her fingers and looked off into the distance.
“We’ve split.”
“Oh, so now you want me back. No thanks,” Harry said crossly.
“I broke up with him because of you.” Ginny leaned forward and looked into Harry’s eyes. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since you got back. I thought I’d be happy to get rid of all the attention of being your girlfriend, and I don’t miss that, but I do miss you. Very much. You know I’ve always loved you, Harry. Since we were kids.”
Harry found himself staring at Ginny’s lips, her hands, thinking how easy it would be just to fall in bed with her right now and shag the shitty day away. It wasn’t like they had never done it before, or like Ginny hadn’t screwed him over at Christmas. But a pang rose in his chest, a pang that reminded him how badly it hurt to be used by Draco, a pang that reminded him just how much he still loved Draco. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled a ragged breath.
“Gin, I appreciate that, I do, but… I can’t.”
“Why not?” Ginny asked. She reached out and traced her fingertip over Harry’s knee.
“Because there is someone else.”
Ginny yanked her hand away as if she’d been burned.
“It’s him, isn’t it? I thought Fred and George were making it up, but they aren’t, are they? How could you, Harry? I’m not so much fussed that it’s another man, but a fucking Slytherin!” she hissed.
Harry’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. He would have never in a million years guessed that Fred and George would reveal his secret.
“I can’t help it, Gin. He’s—”
“He’s fucking 18 years old and only wants to go out with you because you’re Harry Potter!”
Harry looked confused. Draco was 19, same as him and never given a rat’s arse that he was Harry Potter.
“What?”
“I walked in on the twins one night, scheming how they could get you and that stupid Potions wanker together. I thought it was just a joke to piss me off—they said it was! But it isn’t, is it?”
Harry nearly laughed in relief. Ginny wasn’t talking about Draco at all.
“Yeah, Gin. I’m sorry. I’ve sort of had a crush on Paul since New Year’s.”
Ginny yanked her purse in her lap and ripped it open. Harry had to fight a smile. He had known using Paul’s name would enflame Ginny even more. After digging for a moment, she pulled out an envelope bearing the Chudley Cannons logo and threw it at Harry.
“Here are your bloody tickets. Take your little pouf boyfriend. See if I care. But don’t ever think that we’re getting back together now—”
“You’re the one who came here wanting to hook up!”
“Because I don’t sleep with arse bandits.” Ginny’s face was white and cold.
“God, Ginny, you can be horrible. Just get out.” Harry rubbed his hand across his forehead. Ginny always got nasty when she was hurt.
Ginny stormed to the coat wrack and pulled her coat off. Harry heard it rip from across the room and felt a bit of dull satisfaction. She pulled her wand out and repaired the tear, then stormed out the door with a loud sob.
“Apparently, yes, this day can get worse,” Harry muttered to the flat. He jumped when Hedwig dolefully hooted back at him. He lifted himself from the chair and slumped off towards the bedroom, determined to get to sleep before anything else could blow up in his face. He fell into bed with a groan. Ginny would tell Ron, he knew it.
“Please, tomorrow,” he said out loud. “Just let me deal with him tomorrow.”
**
Harry was awakened by the buzzer on his intercom. Someone was downstairs, laying on the button for all it was worth.
“Ron,” he groaned. He pulled himself out of bed, giving the pillow a quick punch.
Harry buzzed him up and pulled the door open.
Harry groaned again. Ron wasn’t alone. Hermione stepped off the elevator with him.
“Morning,” Harry muttered to his two best friends, both of whom appeared to have been hit with a Disorientation Hex.
“Good morning, Harry,” Hermione answered.
“Alright, Ron?” Harry asked when Ron didn’t reply.
“Er…”
“Let’s go inside, shall we?” Hermione asked. Harry gave a nod.
Hermione and Ron sat on the couch in the same spot Ginny had taken the night before. Harry took his spot in the chair.
“So. What brings you here so bright and early? I thought Ron would be getting all the rest he could, what with the game tomorrow. Thanks for the tickets, by the way, mate.”
Harry kept his voice as conversational as possible. Ron just stared at him.
“Um, Harry, we’ve heard some rather…interesting news about you. Is it true you’ve quit your job?” Hermione asked.
“Yup.”
Ron and Hermione exchanged amazed looks.
“But Harry, that’s probably exactly what Lucius Malfoy was hoping for when he complained. To get you off the Auror Squad.”
“Then I suppose he got his wish.”
“Is it true you roughed Malfoy up a bit?” Ron asked, his eyes gleaming mischievously.
“No. It’s not true at all.” Harry’s fingers tightened around the arms of the chair at the mention of Draco.
Ron and Hermione exchanged looks again. Silence hung in the room for several seconds before Hermione spoke again.
“Um, we also heard, from Ginny, that you, um, well—”
“Were a poufter,” Ron interjected.
“Ron! You might have been a bit more tactful!”
Harry titled his head back and looked at the ceiling. “No need for tact, Hermione. It’s the truth.”
“What about Ginny?” Ron cried.
“What about her?”
“You dated for nearly a year!”
“And things were never quite right. I mean, I enjoyed sex with her, but it was never comfortable, never—”
“Harry, that’s enough! I don’t need details. She’s me bloody sister, after all!” Ron clapped his hand to his forehead. “What brought this on, mate? Is it cause she broke up with you? Is it really that guy from Fred and George’s shop? I mean, he’s good looking and everything, but he’s—” Ron’s hands flew up in exasperation. “Well, he’s a bloke, for one thing!”
Hermione was just sitting with her mouth agape, completely speechless for once.
“Ron, just stop. I can answer all of your questions. No, it’s not because Ginny broke up with me. And no, it’s not because of Paul. It was…before that. I was going to break up with Ginny when I got back home. From the safe house.”
Harry emphasized the last two words. His friends looked so dazed, he didn’t have the heart to just come out and say ‘It happened because I fell in love with Draco Malfoy.’
But, he didn’t have to. Hermione was slower than usual because of the state she was in, but she got it in under ten seconds anyway.
“Oh, Harry! NO!” she moaned.
Harry nodded weakly.
“What?! What’d I miss?” Ron yelled.
Hermione’s hand was over her mouth, and Harry could see that it was shaking slightly. Ever so slowly, she lowered it to her lap.
“What?” Ron yelled again.
“It’s not the bloke from the shop Harry’s in love with. It’s Malfoy. He’s in love with Draco Malfoy.”
Ron’s head whipped back and forth between Harry and Hermione, who were staring at one another intently. At last, he jumped from the couch.
“NO! It can’t be! Harry, please, tell me this isn’t true! I can handle the other bloke, I can handle anything, but not this!”
Harry’s eyes dropped from Hermione’s to the floor. Ron sank back onto the couch.
“Oh, Harry,” he muttered.
They all sat without a word for what felt like a long, long time.
“So, um, Harry. How, exactly, did this happen?” Hermione asked quietly.
“I don’t want to know,” Ron said with a groan.
Harry remained silent.
“Oh, alright, tell us,” Ron amended.
Harry shrugged. “I guess being stuck in that house with him just…I don’t know. He’s not like we thought. Or at least I thought he wasn’t like we thought, but it turns out maybe he is.”
“Harry, slow down. Just, tell us from the beginning,” Hermione said.
Harry took a deep breath. “It started out as just sexual, just a way to get off.”
Ron groaned. Hermione shot him a dark look.
“Go on,” she said to Harry.
“I don’t know. I just started watching him afterwards. He’s incredibly smart, and strong, and vulnerable,” Ron snorted at that, “and he’s good.”
Ron snorted even louder.
Harry’s face grew hot. “He is, Ron. He spent most of his time in the shack trying to find a cure for his mother’s madness. And the bloody Death Eaters tortured him—you should hear what they did to him, why he ended up with us. He’s got his head sorted out now.” Harry stopped for a moment, thinking about the last days he and Draco spent together in the shack. The days after Harry told Draco he loved him, when Draco had let Harry believe that he might love him back. “And he can be incredibly sweet, when it suits his needs.”
Ron and Hermione stared at him in disbelief. Harry was getting a little tired of the blank eyed ogling.
“Look, I know it doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t even love me back. He’s made it quite clear that he wants nothing to do with me. So, yeah, I’m trying to get on. I’m bringing Paul tomorrow, so you’d better get used to the idea,” Harry told his friends hotly.
Ron heaved a sigh of relief. “As long as it’s not that git, I don’t care. I just don’t trust him. He’s such a bastard—”
“I know, Ron! I just forgot for a bit, okay? It was weird, just really weird, being shut up in that house with him. I guess that neither of us was really ourselves.”
Hermione reached over and patted Harry’s knee.
“Harry, we’ll be here for you through this. For your coming out and whatever.”
Ron nodded fervently. “Yeah, course we will. I mean, if you think you’re really, you know, gay or whatever.”
Harry gave them both a lopsided grin. “I suppose I should have known that if the two of you would follow me to fight Voldemort, this wouldn’t be such a big deal. You dolts.”
“Why should we care?” Ron asked. “It’s you that’s got to look at men naked the rest of your life.” Ron faked shivered at the thought.
“It’s not so bad, really, mate. Give a look round your locker room next Quidditch game.”
“Harry! That’s disgusting!” Ron yelled, but he was laughing, too. “So, I have to know. Malfoy’s a bottom, right?”
Harry didn’t answer right away. He was, quite frankly, a little shocked at Ron’s acceptance of the situation.
“Harry, please, tell me Malfoy’s a bottom!!”
“What difference does it make?” Harry asked, eyebrow raised.
“Oh, mate, you didn’t. I mean, really, he’s such a nance, there’s just no way…”
“Ron, why are you so curious about it?” Hermione asked.
“I just, I mean, Harry’s me mate!”
Harry laughed and stood from the chair. He clapped Ron on the shoulder. “I’m going to get us some tea. I’ll be right back.”
“Harry!” Ron said.
“I don’t kiss and tell, mate,” Harry said with a wink. He went to the kitchen, leaving a very pale Ron and a snickering Hermione behind.
**
After Ron and Hermione had gone (after another hour of questions and good natured ribbing) Harry showered and got himself ready. He had told his best friends that he was bringing Paul to the charity match tomorrow, so he figured it might be a good idea to ask Paul.
He Apparated to Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes and went inside. Fred was in the middle of a group of children, while George worked the till.
“Harry!” George called loudly. “Great to see you!”
All the patrons turned towards Harry at the announcement. A quiet mutter ran through the crowd. Fred waved from the center of his group. Harry smiled at everyone and went to the counter.
“Hi, George. I am actually here to—”
“What, Harry? My hearing’s still not too keen, you’re going to have to speak up a bit!” George shouted.
Harry leaned over the counter and cupped his hand around his mouth. “I said I’m here to—”
“Still can’t hear you, mate!”
“I’M HERE TO SEE PAUL!” Harry yelled.
A little door hidden in a panel of wood opened from the back of the shop. Paul stuck his head through, saw Harry, and smiled.
“Someone call me?” he asked.
Harry once again felt lightheaded. “Hi. I didn’t mean to yell, but George here is till partly deaf, it seems.”
“There he is!” George yelled gleefully. The twins exchanged evil grins across the shop.
Harry started to answer, but thought better of it. He turned back to Paul.
“Look, I am really sorry about yesterday. I’m not sure what came over me, I just needed to be alone.”
“I’m glad to see you’ve decided that Draco isn’t worth sulking over anymore,” Paul said.
Harry’s eyes cut to the floor. “Um, yeah. Anyway, I have two tickets to the big charity Quidditch game tomorrow, and as I am not working anymore, I was wondering if you’d like to come with me?”
Paul smiled shyly at Harry. “That’d be great, if they’ll let me take the day off.”
“No problem! Take the day!” George yelled from the counter.
Harry whirled around. “I thought you couldn’t hear!”
“Bugger! I guess this means I have to stop yelling at everyone now. Ah well.”
Harry laughed and turned back to Paul. “It’s a date then?”
“Yes. What time should I expect you?”
“Around half ten?”
“Sounds lovely.”
A small boy approached cautiously and tugged on Harry’s sleeve. “Mr. Potter, sir?”
Harry looked down at him. “It’s just Harry, mate.”
The little boy blushed and held up a Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes bag. “Could you sign this?”
Harry gave Paul a sideways glance.
“You give out signatures and I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ve got loads of work to do if I’m going to be out. See you later.”
Harry nodded and turned back to the boy. “Alright then. What’s your name?”
His heart felt light and undeniably heavy all at the same time as he signed the boy’s bag.
**
The next morning was the perfect day for Quidditch. It was clear with a slight breeze, and for once, not bone achingly cold. Harry checked his reflection once more, wrapped the Cannons scarf that Ron had given him last Christmas around his neck, and checked Paul’s floo address once again. Feeling incredibly nervous and tense, he stepped into the fireplace to pick up his first public male date. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t help but wish that it was Draco he was meeting instead.
**
Harry and Paul were shown to the VIP box at the top of the stadium, an unused Muggle venue. Crowd control was the Ministry’s domain, and Harry couldn’t help but notice several former colleagues stationed around the entrances.
“Well, this certainly is lovely,” Paul said as they entered the box. They were the first to arrive. “It pays to know a celebrity, I see.”
Harry grinned. “Ron’s the celebrity in this arena, not me. Here, I’m just an old washed up Auror.”
At that moment, several flashes erupted all around them and Harry heard a familiar voice.
“Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter! Rita Skeeter, The Daily Prophet. Who is this young man you have with you today?”
“His name is Paul Martin. He’s a former Slytherin and current employee of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. Potions Developer. I believe he is here today, though, as Mr. Potter’s date.”
Harry felt as if he was going to vomit. He’d recognize that drawl anywhere.
It was Draco.
Summary: Harry and Draco are put in a safe house for their own protection. Post HBP, big spoilers!
Rating: NC-17
Author: minerva alistor
Where: my lj
skyehawke
The Hex Files
Harry was actually some assistance to Paul in clearing out the store. Being the ex-Slytherin that he was, Paul pointed out that Harry Potter was standing outside on the sidewalk and the last of the stragglers rushed out and surrounded Harry, begging for autographs and handshakes. This gave Paul time to say good night to Fred and George (who were still hard at work repairing George’s hearing) and lock up the shop.
Harry was signing the side of a Basic Blaze Box, his last request, when Paul joined him on the sidewalk. He waited patiently as Harry hugged the little boy’s giggling mum good-bye.
“Sorry about that. I don’t deal with customers on a regular basis. I’m not good at it and the kids are the hardest to get to leave. Fred and George usually have to threaten them with something dreadful. I figured sending them out to you was the quickest bet,” Paul said with an apologetic smile.
Harry, who had been watching the last woman leave over his shoulder, turned to Paul. “It’s alright. I just hate it when they grab my arse.”
Paul quirked an eyebrow. “She grabbed your arse?”
Harry shrugged. “Gave it a quick squeeze, she did.”
Paul pushed on Harry’s shoulder so that his torso twisted forward. Paul gave a dramatic sigh and let Harry go.
“Well, can’t say I blame her for that. It is a nice arse.”
Harry blushed and grinned. He shoved his hands in his pockets.
“So, can George hear yet?” Harry asked as they started down the sidewalk.
“Nope. But they’ll work it out, always do. How have you been since New Year’s? I’ve thought a lot about you, actually. You didn’t seem so happy that night.”
Harry shrugged again, clearly embarrassed. Paul had always acted shy with Harry before.
“Um, yeah, well, I was really overworked at that point. Overworked and under appreciated,” Harry ended with a grumble.
Paul smiled. “Maybe you need a vacation. A weekend in the country. Surely the Ministry would give you a holiday.”
“Actually, I have all the time in the world at the moment. I quit today.”
Paul looked genuinely shocked. “Really?”
“Yeah. They were going to suspend me. Lucius Malfoy filed a complaint. Said I harassed Drac—his son.”
Paul’s lips twisted in a lopsided smirk that made Harry’s heart clench. Suddenly, he felt lightheaded and a little disoriented.
“Ah yes, Little Lord Malfoy.”
“You know him?”
“Knew him. I was in Slytherin, as you know, a year below the two of you.” Paul paused, a frown on his face. “Yes, I knew Draco.”
Harry’s heart skipped a beat. There was something in the way Paul made that statement that he didn’t like.
“How well?”
Paul gave him a dazzling, but cold, smile.
“Well, I thought I knew him very well, but it turns out, no one really does. Bit of a cold bastard, that one.”
Harry’s heart jumped into his throat. “Why do you say that? I mean, I know he wasn’t the nicest bloke when we were at Hogwarts, but I think he’s changed now.”
Paul nearly choked on his own harsh laughter.
“I forgot that you spent all that time with him in that safe house just recently. It would appear he’s done you in as well, then.”
Harry stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk. His head was starting to throb. “What do you mean?”
Paul sighed. “I mean that Draco Malfoy is a user. He takes what he needs, when he needs it, then throws it aside as if it were trash. Even people. Especially people.”
“Yes, but he’s diff—”
“Harry,” Paul said gently, placing his hand on Harry’s arm. “He’s not different, no matter how it seems. Whatever happened between you—and I can tell something happened by the desperately sad look in your eye and your need to defend him—trust me, it meant nothing. It never does.”
Harry’s face fell to his knees. He turned away from Paul and started walking again.
“I’m sorry, Harry.”
“Did the two of you—?”
“Nothing serious, but to me it was everything. I mean, Draco bloody Malfoy. I did think I was rather something. But as soon as I started wanting more than he was willing to give, he gave me a rather heartless lecture on the Malfoy Philosophy of Love.”
Harry swallowed loudly. “Oh? What’s that?”
Paul’s face grew bitter and dark. “Basically that there is no such thing. Sex is sex, marriage is business, and love? A myth. A lie. And no Malfoy was ever stupid enough to believe in a lie.”
Harry’s head was swimming, but his stomach was sinking to the ground.
They walked in silence the rest of the way, and Harry nearly walked right past the secret entrance to Diagon Alley.
“Harry? We’re here. Are you okay?”
Harry stopped with a jolt. “Uh, sorry. Look, I’m not feeling so great all of a sudden. I know it’s terrible of me to invite you out and then leave, but it’s been a stressful day, what with the job and –”
“And hearing that the man you love is a bit of prick. I understand. Anyone would want to go home and crawl into bed after a day like that.”
Harry gave Paul a grateful smile. “Thanks. But I promise, we’ll do this again. Just the two of us, no Fred and George.”
Paul stepped forward and took Harry’s hands. “I could come with you now. I give quite good backrubs. Could help you relax.”
Harry thought about it for all of one second. “Not tonight. I’m sorry, I just want to be alone for a bit.”
Paul let Harry’s hands fall and stepped back. “I understand. But I will keep you to your promise. Here,” he said, fishing in his coat pocket. He pulled out a card and handed it to Harry. “It’s got my floo address on it, in case you want to pop over. Otherwise, you can always find me at the shop.” He leaned forward and kissed Harry’s cheek. “Try not to be too hard on yourself. He is a charming bastard.”
“Yeah. Thanks,” Harry said, holding the card up between two fingers before stuffing it in his own coat pocket. He didn’t kiss Paul back, but Apparated with a loud crack.
**
Harry had been in his flat for less than five minutes when the intercom buzzed, announcing that he had a visitor. He groaned and got up from the couch, where he’d thrown himself in a miserable heap.
“Hullo?” he said into the box.
“Hi, Harry. It’s Ginny.”
Harry wondered if his day could possibly get any worse.
“Hi, Gin.”
“Ron sent me over with some news. Plus, I wanted to talk to you.”
Harry hesitated, his finger pressing the button so hard that his knuckle was white. He was going to tell her not tonight, but he figured that, in the end, it’d be better to just get it over with. He couldn’t imagine what on earth she could possibly want.
“Yeah, alright.” He buzzed her up.
Minutes later, she was in his flat, shaking snow from her coat and her long red hair.
“Is Ron okay?” Harry asked as he took her coat.
“Oh, he’s fine,” Ginny said, making her way towards the couch. Harry sat down in the chair across from her. “He just wanted me to invite you to a charity match he’s playing in day after tomorrow.”
“What? The Home for Children of the War game? He’s playing in that again? I thought the Oliver and the Arrows Keepers, what’s-his-name were doing it this year.”
“The Arrows Keeper was injured last night, so they asked Ron to do it again. Very last minute. I was also thinking that…maybe…you and I could go together.” Ginny looked down at her hands, then back up at Harry.
Harry lowered his eyes in suspicion. He knew Ginny well enough to know she was only playing coy to try and get what she wanted.
“What about Lancelot?”
Ginny plopped back onto the couch and lifted her left arm along the back. She twisted a piece of hair in her fingers and looked off into the distance.
“We’ve split.”
“Oh, so now you want me back. No thanks,” Harry said crossly.
“I broke up with him because of you.” Ginny leaned forward and looked into Harry’s eyes. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since you got back. I thought I’d be happy to get rid of all the attention of being your girlfriend, and I don’t miss that, but I do miss you. Very much. You know I’ve always loved you, Harry. Since we were kids.”
Harry found himself staring at Ginny’s lips, her hands, thinking how easy it would be just to fall in bed with her right now and shag the shitty day away. It wasn’t like they had never done it before, or like Ginny hadn’t screwed him over at Christmas. But a pang rose in his chest, a pang that reminded him how badly it hurt to be used by Draco, a pang that reminded him just how much he still loved Draco. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled a ragged breath.
“Gin, I appreciate that, I do, but… I can’t.”
“Why not?” Ginny asked. She reached out and traced her fingertip over Harry’s knee.
“Because there is someone else.”
Ginny yanked her hand away as if she’d been burned.
“It’s him, isn’t it? I thought Fred and George were making it up, but they aren’t, are they? How could you, Harry? I’m not so much fussed that it’s another man, but a fucking Slytherin!” she hissed.
Harry’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. He would have never in a million years guessed that Fred and George would reveal his secret.
“I can’t help it, Gin. He’s—”
“He’s fucking 18 years old and only wants to go out with you because you’re Harry Potter!”
Harry looked confused. Draco was 19, same as him and never given a rat’s arse that he was Harry Potter.
“What?”
“I walked in on the twins one night, scheming how they could get you and that stupid Potions wanker together. I thought it was just a joke to piss me off—they said it was! But it isn’t, is it?”
Harry nearly laughed in relief. Ginny wasn’t talking about Draco at all.
“Yeah, Gin. I’m sorry. I’ve sort of had a crush on Paul since New Year’s.”
Ginny yanked her purse in her lap and ripped it open. Harry had to fight a smile. He had known using Paul’s name would enflame Ginny even more. After digging for a moment, she pulled out an envelope bearing the Chudley Cannons logo and threw it at Harry.
“Here are your bloody tickets. Take your little pouf boyfriend. See if I care. But don’t ever think that we’re getting back together now—”
“You’re the one who came here wanting to hook up!”
“Because I don’t sleep with arse bandits.” Ginny’s face was white and cold.
“God, Ginny, you can be horrible. Just get out.” Harry rubbed his hand across his forehead. Ginny always got nasty when she was hurt.
Ginny stormed to the coat wrack and pulled her coat off. Harry heard it rip from across the room and felt a bit of dull satisfaction. She pulled her wand out and repaired the tear, then stormed out the door with a loud sob.
“Apparently, yes, this day can get worse,” Harry muttered to the flat. He jumped when Hedwig dolefully hooted back at him. He lifted himself from the chair and slumped off towards the bedroom, determined to get to sleep before anything else could blow up in his face. He fell into bed with a groan. Ginny would tell Ron, he knew it.
“Please, tomorrow,” he said out loud. “Just let me deal with him tomorrow.”
**
Harry was awakened by the buzzer on his intercom. Someone was downstairs, laying on the button for all it was worth.
“Ron,” he groaned. He pulled himself out of bed, giving the pillow a quick punch.
Harry buzzed him up and pulled the door open.
Harry groaned again. Ron wasn’t alone. Hermione stepped off the elevator with him.
“Morning,” Harry muttered to his two best friends, both of whom appeared to have been hit with a Disorientation Hex.
“Good morning, Harry,” Hermione answered.
“Alright, Ron?” Harry asked when Ron didn’t reply.
“Er…”
“Let’s go inside, shall we?” Hermione asked. Harry gave a nod.
Hermione and Ron sat on the couch in the same spot Ginny had taken the night before. Harry took his spot in the chair.
“So. What brings you here so bright and early? I thought Ron would be getting all the rest he could, what with the game tomorrow. Thanks for the tickets, by the way, mate.”
Harry kept his voice as conversational as possible. Ron just stared at him.
“Um, Harry, we’ve heard some rather…interesting news about you. Is it true you’ve quit your job?” Hermione asked.
“Yup.”
Ron and Hermione exchanged amazed looks.
“But Harry, that’s probably exactly what Lucius Malfoy was hoping for when he complained. To get you off the Auror Squad.”
“Then I suppose he got his wish.”
“Is it true you roughed Malfoy up a bit?” Ron asked, his eyes gleaming mischievously.
“No. It’s not true at all.” Harry’s fingers tightened around the arms of the chair at the mention of Draco.
Ron and Hermione exchanged looks again. Silence hung in the room for several seconds before Hermione spoke again.
“Um, we also heard, from Ginny, that you, um, well—”
“Were a poufter,” Ron interjected.
“Ron! You might have been a bit more tactful!”
Harry titled his head back and looked at the ceiling. “No need for tact, Hermione. It’s the truth.”
“What about Ginny?” Ron cried.
“What about her?”
“You dated for nearly a year!”
“And things were never quite right. I mean, I enjoyed sex with her, but it was never comfortable, never—”
“Harry, that’s enough! I don’t need details. She’s me bloody sister, after all!” Ron clapped his hand to his forehead. “What brought this on, mate? Is it cause she broke up with you? Is it really that guy from Fred and George’s shop? I mean, he’s good looking and everything, but he’s—” Ron’s hands flew up in exasperation. “Well, he’s a bloke, for one thing!”
Hermione was just sitting with her mouth agape, completely speechless for once.
“Ron, just stop. I can answer all of your questions. No, it’s not because Ginny broke up with me. And no, it’s not because of Paul. It was…before that. I was going to break up with Ginny when I got back home. From the safe house.”
Harry emphasized the last two words. His friends looked so dazed, he didn’t have the heart to just come out and say ‘It happened because I fell in love with Draco Malfoy.’
But, he didn’t have to. Hermione was slower than usual because of the state she was in, but she got it in under ten seconds anyway.
“Oh, Harry! NO!” she moaned.
Harry nodded weakly.
“What?! What’d I miss?” Ron yelled.
Hermione’s hand was over her mouth, and Harry could see that it was shaking slightly. Ever so slowly, she lowered it to her lap.
“What?” Ron yelled again.
“It’s not the bloke from the shop Harry’s in love with. It’s Malfoy. He’s in love with Draco Malfoy.”
Ron’s head whipped back and forth between Harry and Hermione, who were staring at one another intently. At last, he jumped from the couch.
“NO! It can’t be! Harry, please, tell me this isn’t true! I can handle the other bloke, I can handle anything, but not this!”
Harry’s eyes dropped from Hermione’s to the floor. Ron sank back onto the couch.
“Oh, Harry,” he muttered.
They all sat without a word for what felt like a long, long time.
“So, um, Harry. How, exactly, did this happen?” Hermione asked quietly.
“I don’t want to know,” Ron said with a groan.
Harry remained silent.
“Oh, alright, tell us,” Ron amended.
Harry shrugged. “I guess being stuck in that house with him just…I don’t know. He’s not like we thought. Or at least I thought he wasn’t like we thought, but it turns out maybe he is.”
“Harry, slow down. Just, tell us from the beginning,” Hermione said.
Harry took a deep breath. “It started out as just sexual, just a way to get off.”
Ron groaned. Hermione shot him a dark look.
“Go on,” she said to Harry.
“I don’t know. I just started watching him afterwards. He’s incredibly smart, and strong, and vulnerable,” Ron snorted at that, “and he’s good.”
Ron snorted even louder.
Harry’s face grew hot. “He is, Ron. He spent most of his time in the shack trying to find a cure for his mother’s madness. And the bloody Death Eaters tortured him—you should hear what they did to him, why he ended up with us. He’s got his head sorted out now.” Harry stopped for a moment, thinking about the last days he and Draco spent together in the shack. The days after Harry told Draco he loved him, when Draco had let Harry believe that he might love him back. “And he can be incredibly sweet, when it suits his needs.”
Ron and Hermione stared at him in disbelief. Harry was getting a little tired of the blank eyed ogling.
“Look, I know it doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t even love me back. He’s made it quite clear that he wants nothing to do with me. So, yeah, I’m trying to get on. I’m bringing Paul tomorrow, so you’d better get used to the idea,” Harry told his friends hotly.
Ron heaved a sigh of relief. “As long as it’s not that git, I don’t care. I just don’t trust him. He’s such a bastard—”
“I know, Ron! I just forgot for a bit, okay? It was weird, just really weird, being shut up in that house with him. I guess that neither of us was really ourselves.”
Hermione reached over and patted Harry’s knee.
“Harry, we’ll be here for you through this. For your coming out and whatever.”
Ron nodded fervently. “Yeah, course we will. I mean, if you think you’re really, you know, gay or whatever.”
Harry gave them both a lopsided grin. “I suppose I should have known that if the two of you would follow me to fight Voldemort, this wouldn’t be such a big deal. You dolts.”
“Why should we care?” Ron asked. “It’s you that’s got to look at men naked the rest of your life.” Ron faked shivered at the thought.
“It’s not so bad, really, mate. Give a look round your locker room next Quidditch game.”
“Harry! That’s disgusting!” Ron yelled, but he was laughing, too. “So, I have to know. Malfoy’s a bottom, right?”
Harry didn’t answer right away. He was, quite frankly, a little shocked at Ron’s acceptance of the situation.
“Harry, please, tell me Malfoy’s a bottom!!”
“What difference does it make?” Harry asked, eyebrow raised.
“Oh, mate, you didn’t. I mean, really, he’s such a nance, there’s just no way…”
“Ron, why are you so curious about it?” Hermione asked.
“I just, I mean, Harry’s me mate!”
Harry laughed and stood from the chair. He clapped Ron on the shoulder. “I’m going to get us some tea. I’ll be right back.”
“Harry!” Ron said.
“I don’t kiss and tell, mate,” Harry said with a wink. He went to the kitchen, leaving a very pale Ron and a snickering Hermione behind.
**
After Ron and Hermione had gone (after another hour of questions and good natured ribbing) Harry showered and got himself ready. He had told his best friends that he was bringing Paul to the charity match tomorrow, so he figured it might be a good idea to ask Paul.
He Apparated to Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes and went inside. Fred was in the middle of a group of children, while George worked the till.
“Harry!” George called loudly. “Great to see you!”
All the patrons turned towards Harry at the announcement. A quiet mutter ran through the crowd. Fred waved from the center of his group. Harry smiled at everyone and went to the counter.
“Hi, George. I am actually here to—”
“What, Harry? My hearing’s still not too keen, you’re going to have to speak up a bit!” George shouted.
Harry leaned over the counter and cupped his hand around his mouth. “I said I’m here to—”
“Still can’t hear you, mate!”
“I’M HERE TO SEE PAUL!” Harry yelled.
A little door hidden in a panel of wood opened from the back of the shop. Paul stuck his head through, saw Harry, and smiled.
“Someone call me?” he asked.
Harry once again felt lightheaded. “Hi. I didn’t mean to yell, but George here is till partly deaf, it seems.”
“There he is!” George yelled gleefully. The twins exchanged evil grins across the shop.
Harry started to answer, but thought better of it. He turned back to Paul.
“Look, I am really sorry about yesterday. I’m not sure what came over me, I just needed to be alone.”
“I’m glad to see you’ve decided that Draco isn’t worth sulking over anymore,” Paul said.
Harry’s eyes cut to the floor. “Um, yeah. Anyway, I have two tickets to the big charity Quidditch game tomorrow, and as I am not working anymore, I was wondering if you’d like to come with me?”
Paul smiled shyly at Harry. “That’d be great, if they’ll let me take the day off.”
“No problem! Take the day!” George yelled from the counter.
Harry whirled around. “I thought you couldn’t hear!”
“Bugger! I guess this means I have to stop yelling at everyone now. Ah well.”
Harry laughed and turned back to Paul. “It’s a date then?”
“Yes. What time should I expect you?”
“Around half ten?”
“Sounds lovely.”
A small boy approached cautiously and tugged on Harry’s sleeve. “Mr. Potter, sir?”
Harry looked down at him. “It’s just Harry, mate.”
The little boy blushed and held up a Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes bag. “Could you sign this?”
Harry gave Paul a sideways glance.
“You give out signatures and I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ve got loads of work to do if I’m going to be out. See you later.”
Harry nodded and turned back to the boy. “Alright then. What’s your name?”
His heart felt light and undeniably heavy all at the same time as he signed the boy’s bag.
**
The next morning was the perfect day for Quidditch. It was clear with a slight breeze, and for once, not bone achingly cold. Harry checked his reflection once more, wrapped the Cannons scarf that Ron had given him last Christmas around his neck, and checked Paul’s floo address once again. Feeling incredibly nervous and tense, he stepped into the fireplace to pick up his first public male date. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t help but wish that it was Draco he was meeting instead.
**
Harry and Paul were shown to the VIP box at the top of the stadium, an unused Muggle venue. Crowd control was the Ministry’s domain, and Harry couldn’t help but notice several former colleagues stationed around the entrances.
“Well, this certainly is lovely,” Paul said as they entered the box. They were the first to arrive. “It pays to know a celebrity, I see.”
Harry grinned. “Ron’s the celebrity in this arena, not me. Here, I’m just an old washed up Auror.”
At that moment, several flashes erupted all around them and Harry heard a familiar voice.
“Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter! Rita Skeeter, The Daily Prophet. Who is this young man you have with you today?”
“His name is Paul Martin. He’s a former Slytherin and current employee of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. Potions Developer. I believe he is here today, though, as Mr. Potter’s date.”
Harry felt as if he was going to vomit. He’d recognize that drawl anywhere.
It was Draco.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-02 08:42 pm (UTC)No, it was a good chapter. But I hope you update sooner, because I can't handle suspense very well...
::starts to hypervenilate::
I'm ok...really...
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Date: 2005-10-03 02:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-02 09:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-03 01:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-03 01:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-03 03:03 am (UTC)Hmmm... I like the hints of history between Draco and Paul. For some reason I don't think Paul is telling the entire story.
I'm looking forward to reading the next installment.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-04 03:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-03 10:29 pm (UTC)*grummbles*
more?
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Date: 2005-10-04 03:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-03 11:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-04 03:16 am (UTC)Evil.
Date: 2005-10-09 03:08 am (UTC)~Cj~
Re: Evil.
Date: 2005-10-11 03:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-17 04:13 am (UTC)I'm in love with it. No wait, I'm in love with Harry! He's such a clueless top!
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Date: 2005-11-17 04:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-17 04:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-17 05:01 am (UTC)Can I add you up my friend's list? Guh. I can't believe it's you!!!! Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
no subject
Date: 2005-12-07 03:39 am (UTC)