Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. I do not wish him to be either. I wish to write my own series of phenomenal books.
Minor Author's Note: Heh. I just want to say that I love Ronald. I'm even trying to piece together a oneshot where him and Harry fall in love. (It's horribly mediocre.) But in this story, he's awful. Just horrible. He's a cheating, two-faced, cowardice ass.
Summary: When dear Ronald cheats on Harry one too many times, Harry has had enough. Who is he crushing on, and is that crush reciprocated?
Warnings: None, really. Just slash and cursing. Lots of curse words, I think.
Rebounding
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SMACK!
Many people in the common room jumped in alarm before turning to seek where the unexpected noise came from. What they found was a crazed-looking, teary-faced Harry Potter with a hand in the air and a wide-eyed Ron Weasley cradling his rapidly red-turning cheek. Everyone leaned forward as if each of them was going to reach out and grasp this juicy bit of gossip in their hand like a golden snitch.
"I can't believe you! Why would you say something like that to me? I thought you loved me—that's why I forgave you—but apparently not. Apparently…I'm a disgusting freak who isn't even worthy of your presence. Fuck you, Ron Weasley. We are over for good, and I'd advise you to not try and apologize in a few days—like you always do—because I'll just smack you again and spit in your cheating face." Harry strode confidently out of the room, wondering why he forgave the other boy—once again—two weeks ago when he came groveling at his feet…it had seemed so heartfelt. However, Harry knew that was not the truth.
Roughly twenty minutes later, Hermione opened the door to the seventh year boys' dormitory to an eerie silence. She walked over to Harry's bed and pulled apart the hangings to a sobbing boy.
'Damn you, Ron Weasley!' she thought before whispering his name.
"Herm?" he sniffed and turned around, for he had been with his back to her, curled around a pillow.
"Yeah, Harry, it's me." She spoke with a soft voice, "C'mon, fall into my arms. I'll comfort you."
"Thanks Herm…." he said as he cuddled into her. The tears were flowing again within seconds.
"Oh, Harry," she whispered. While the words did nothing the comfort Harry, they did let him know she was on his side.
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Meanwhile, back in the common room Ron overcame his shock from being verbally bashed a second time and sneered.
"That slut!" he exclaimed, "He never learns, does he? And she has no right to talk to me like that—and to defend him, too!"
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The next day, Harry was in much better spirits. He was smiling and laughing; there was a smirk on his face whenever he was not doing one of the two former. Mostly, though, he was flirting with every male he encountered. When he saw Ron, he would sneer at said boy and hang all over the nearest boy available.
Ron usually reacted to this by yelling out 'slut' and stomping off. The redhead had never been more insulted in his life when Harry caused that spectacle in the common room. However, the thought that Harry would forgive him in a few days calmed him. He could not care less about the whore; he just wanted to keep him around to use his money—not to mention he had a tight arse.
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When Harry had not forgiven him almost three weeks later, Ron was about to scream. His cock was about to burst, and his hand was raw because he had not had any sex since the last time Harry caught him with someone else—the cause of said boy breaking up with him this last time. The redhead was trying to get Harry to forgive him, but this was torture. He was used to having sex almost constantly.
Harry, however, was the happiest boy alive. He was not having sex, but the fact was not torture for him. He and Ron rarely had sex since the beginning of their relationship, before the other boy started cheating.
He loved how Ron was torturing himself for no reason. Harry was never going to forgive him: enough was enough, and he was not going to be tortured by the redhead anymore. He had his eye on someone. This someone was a person which neither the school nor Harry would have expected. It was also the second to last person Ron would ever guess. Harry considered this an added bonus. Harry had been dancing and biting his lip around this person for a while—of course, said boy had no idea, but that was not the point. The point was that this person was the reason he was quickly getting over Ron.
The boy Harry was crushing on was, in Harry's opinion, the most beautiful boy he had ever laid eyes on. He had blue-grey eyes, platinum, blonde hair and a body into which Harry wanted to melt. His teeth were perfect, and his lips were slightly pouty. He had the most adorable, little nose. His hands could grip firmly (Harry knew this because the other boy played seeker for another team,) and his fingers were long and slim. Harry wondered if he ever used those fingers to…. Anyway, to continue with Harry's list, the boy was skinny and toned: his muscles were not bulky like Ron's muscles. Harry thought Ron's muscles were unattractive. That was all Harry had seen. Anything else was always covered and could not be assumed about. This boy was none other than….
Crash!
The Gryffindor had been paying no attention to where he was going, and as he had walked around a corner, he ran into none other than Draco Malfoy, the boy he was crushing on. Currently, they were sprawled on the floor, Harry on top of Draco. The raven-haired boy's face was almost tucked into the blonde's neck before he lifted it.
His mouth and eyes were wide open as he stared into the face (and most specifically eyes) that he had just been thinking about. He bit his lip before realizing that the blonde would probably not like this.
"Oh! I-I'm sorry! I wasn't paying a bit of attention to where I was going," he burst out with before slowly untangling himself from the other boy and getting up, trying to prolong any contact.
"S'alright. I'm fine, obviously. How about you, are you fine?" Draco was actually speaking to him—without insults!
"O-oh…oh, I'm fine," he smiled nervously. He had no idea what to say, and what was the deal with him stuttering all over the place? Stupid dolt! You cannot mess this up!
"Well, luckily, I was looking for you. I wanted to ask you something."
"Well, ask away!" he said. God, how corny did that sound? I should have said something else! However, as he thought this, he was smiling on the outside.
"I just wanted to know if you'd like to go flying with me sometime—y'know: just the two of us…."
Harry blinked, and Harry gaped, and Harry just did not know what to say except…
"Of course! I'd love to." Was that suggestive, or was I imagining that slight change in his voice at the end of his sentence?
Draco smirked, except it was kind of a smile, and Harry kind of shyly smiled back. They were looking anywhere except at each other until finally their eyes locked and they moved closer. When only a foot away, Harry asked Draco when he would like to meet.
"Meet me at four o'clock this Sunday on the quidditch pitch. Kay?"
"Kay. I'll be there." With that, Harry kissed the other boy on his cheek and almost skipped off, but he managed to restrain himself—just barely, though.
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Wednesday. Bloody Wednesday. It was only Wednesday! Harry was now the one about to scream. They were currently in potions, and Hermione kept sending him questioning looks while Draco kept glancing at him (specifically his mouth) and smirking. How could the blonde stand this? Maybe he did not like Harry much at all; maybe the date this weekend was just a trial run or something. These thoughts plus more were the reason Harry had a temporary pout fixed on his face. That is why Draco was sending smirks at his mouth and Hermione was sending him questioning looks. Wednesday!
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On Friday, he was not doing much better. While Wednesday and Thursday were just so far away from Sunday, Friday felt like he was reaching out for something but could not quite get to it. The looks had narrowed down to one because he told Hermione what had happened, and she could not be happier. Anyone was better than Ron—even Snape—unless they end up doing the same thing Ron did.
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On Saturday, Harry did not know what to do. He was either pacing around the common room or being forced to do his homework. He wanted to go outside. He wanted to run around—anything to get rid of this anticipation. Oh, God. It was Saturday! Tomorrow was Sunday. Sunday. His date with Draco was tomorrow. He needed to figure out what he was going to wear. He needed to do something with his hair; could he flatten it enough to satisfy himself? Did he need to straighten it? Did he need to spend all day getting ready? Oh, God. He needed a Fairy Godmother. Bibbity, Bobbity, Boo. Needless to say, Harry had completely forgotten he was a wizard.
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On Sunday, Harry spent all of seven hours getting ready—even going so far as to wake up at eight o' clock in the damned morning. He spent the last hour pacing and asking Hermione what time it was, before deciding he couldn't wait any longer. Therefore, he headed to the Quidditch pitch early. Considering it was twenty minutes until four, it came to no surprise to Harry that there was no Draco to be found…until he went to the broom closet. There, Draco was found quickly.
Said boy was standing there with a mirror in his hand, checking his makeup and twirling and swishing his wand to add a dusting of pretty, pink blush and coat of gloss on his slightly pouty lips.
"Uhhhmm…yeah," Harry intelligently assessed the situation.
"Oh!" Draco jumped and spun around, snapping the mirror shut with a pop before sighing out, "god. You surprised me!"
"Sorry," Harry sheepishly replied, his eyes squinting in embarrassment.
"S'okay. Anyway, go get your broom so we can get in the air."
Harry rushed off to get his broom from the Gryffindor broom closet, not realizing Draco was watching his arse like a predator watches its prey. Unfortunately, Harry was so excited he tripped, landing straight on his face. Disoriented, his sat up and blinked dazedly a few times before he heard a voice.
"...rry…rry? Harry? Are you alright? Hello? Harry, are you even there?" Draco looked panicked, and Harry rushed to reassure him.
"I—I'm fine!" He squinted, his mouth crumpling into a grimace. "I can't believe I fell like that. I just need to sit here for a few minutes, and then we can go flying."
"You're sure you're fine?"
Harry sighed exasperatedly. "Yes, Draco. I'm just a little disoriented."
"Good," Draco said as his face released the wrinkles of panic. "Because that was hilarious!"
Draco started to laugh. It was a melodious, merry laugh, and in any other situation, Harry would have loved the sound—been mesmerized by it, even. As it was now, he was only mortified.
His face bloomed with blushing, baby pink. The raven-haired boy looked off to the side and bit his lip, wishing desperately for the wonderful, mocking sound to stop.
When Draco's laughter calmed, he noticed Harry's state and stopped making noise altogether. Harry immediately looked up.
"'M sorry. It was hilarious, though. You would have wanted to laugh just as I did if I had done the same thing. I don't think you would have, though. You're too kind. That's why I like you." Draco had to look away, instinct turning his head away from possible rejection.
"Oh, Merlin forbid! It's alright. I just wished you hadn't laughed so much. You could have chuckled."
"I'm sorry." Draco paused. "Let's go flying. We can forget about this awkward incident. Hopefully, we can later laugh about stuff like this…."
With that, he jumped up and ran back over to get his broom. Unfortunately, he tripped before he could get to it. Irritated, the boy sat up, rubbed a hand down his face, and pouted, all the while listening to the light, lilting laughter coming from his date.
"Yeah, you were right. It is pretty funny," he also heard.
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"Well, now that all of that's behind us, let's soar." Harry did a little circle in the air.
"Humph. If you say so." Draco was still pouting about tripping earlier and being laughed at, though he knew he deserved it.
"C'mon." Harry grabbed his hand and pulled. Since Draco was also on a broom, he quickly caught up with Harry's pace and rode alongside him, still holding his hand. This made Harry's cheeks color.
"What?" Draco asked, his voice inquiring.
Harry remained silent a few moments, as if contemplating a decision of great importance.
"Y'know…I've never done anything like this. I've never even been on a date."
"What? I thought you were dating that Weasel." Draco sneered.
"I was. But he never did anything like that with me. He only paid attention to me when he wanted money or—er…sex." Harry looked away, ashamed that he had given his virginity to Ron.
"Well, Harry, that's because he's desperate. But that doesn't mean he deserves your pity, and he especially doesn't deserve you. I understand you loved him, so don't be ashamed that you're not a virgin. It's alright. I'm not either, but I've only been with one guy like you have. I made the same mistake you did."
"You did?" Harry's eyes were wide with awe and wonder.
"Yeah. It was last year, and he was a year up. I don't even remember how it started, but I ended up falling in love with him and letting him coerce me into it. After that, that's all he ever used me for. That and my money. Months later, when he started hitting me and trying to coerce me into having sex with other guys, to get him some more money, I realized what was going on. It was like a haze lifted from my mind, and I broke up with him. I'm pretty sure the only reason he didn't beat me up was because it was right before the end of the school year. We left for break the next day."
"Oh, Draco." Harry bit his lip. "I bet Ron would have started to hit me too. I'm glad I got away when I did. I kept breaking up with him every time I caught I caught him cheating and forgiving him every time he would grovel at my feet and tell me desperately that he loved me. It was a never-ending cycle, and I guess I was so dizzy I didn't know which direction was which. However, when I finally stopped spinning, I realized that my love for him was hanging by a thread anymore, so I asked myself, 'why am I even doing this?' So I broke up with him."
"I'm glad we have something so deep in common, Harry." When Draco looked around, he become conscious of the sun setting. "Look. The sun's setting. Watch it with me before we have to go inside?"
"Yeah. Though it would be cool to fly around under the stars, the light of the moon guiding our way."
"That would be cool, but I always have to get a full night's rest before classes. Otherwise, I'd stay out here with you all night."
"Maybe we could do that next time then. Not on a night when we have school the next day."
"So you want to do this again with me?" By now, the sun was almost one with the horizon, and in that barely there light, Harry reached over and pecked Draco on the cheek before answering.
"Definitely." With that, he swiftly flew off to the ground and out of Draco's sight.
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Hmm. I love the story. I think I did great, but I don't like the title. I think I'll just leave it, though. I'm not terribly good at titles.