Summary: Fate often laughs in the face of well made plans. No one should understand that better than Harry Potter as he's forced to face an uncomfortable truth: Plans change. People change. And love can be found in the most unexpected of places.

Warnings: Language, Sexual Situations, Gender Change, Minor Angst, Violence

Pairing: Harry/Draco (Lyra)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Always You

by: Seshat

Chapter One

"Heartache, heartache I just have so much
A simple love with a complex touch
There is nothing you can say or do
I called to let you know I'm through with you"

-Maroon 5, Through With You

It was good to be home.

A grin of happiness spread across the face of Harry James Potter as he took pleasure in the simple truth of that statement. Home to the family he had made. Home to the friends he could count on. Home to Ginny, the woman he loved. He had everything he'd always wanted and never once took those blessings for granted.

This had been his first trip to the United States, to that lovely manic city of New York of which he had enjoyed quite surprisingly. In fact, other than his years at Hogwarts and the War, he hadn't spent any time out of England. There had been too many other things, more important things, to focus on to even consider something as benign as a vacation.

This trip hadn't truly been for pleasure, as he had gone over to the American Ministry in his capacity as an Auror to capture a criminal who tried to evade prosecution by fleeing across the pond. However, after chasing down the dark wizard who had murdered the families of three muggle-borns and sending him back for trial, he was invited to stay on for the remainder of the week.

Curious about the country he heard so much about, Harry agreed and booked another three days in his muggle hotel that provided a brilliant view of the heart of midtown Manhattan.

His guide was a right bloke by the name of Jason Paterson, a fellow Auror who was only a couple of years older than his twenty-one years. Jason had been with the Department for three years, joining after attending a muggle university for a degree in criminal justice. Harry was certain he wouldn't have closed his case as quickly as he had without Jason's assistance.

The blonde's personality was a mixture of the outspoken Seamus Finnegan and the wicked intelligence of Hermione Granger. A devastating combination for the ladies or so Harry had been told during their first night out at a small Japanese restaurant over warm sake.

The American magical community had followed the events of War, preparing just in case Voldemort wasn't stopped in Britain but the brutality of it couldn't be felt on the same level. That wasn't to say the country didn't have its own troubles. The very modern offices of their American counterpart had been a hotbed of activity for most of the duration of his stay.

So while Harry wasn't unknown, the media hadn't made him as central a figure as his own country had. It was nice to be measured by his actions and not a reputation.

Jason had convinced him that a visit to 'the Big Apple' wasn't complete without the grand tour and Harry had been treated to the whirlwind of activity through both the muggle and magical parts of the city.

Yes, he had thoroughly enjoyed himself but it was good to be home. Their home, Harry amended as he dropped the suitcase to the floor mentally promising to deal with it later. A quick glance at his watch told him that it was almost seven in the evening, which meant that his fiancée would most likely still be at her team practice.

As he walked through the foyer of Grimmauld place, he marveled at how much the dark and forbidding house had changed due to the combined efforts of his friends. He hadn't thought he would be able to live in the place that had been such a prison to his godfather but after a long discussion with Andromeda he decided he wanted to give his own godson a better memory of the Black heritage than Sirius had been left with.

And it had felt good to have a place he could truly call home for the first time in his life, not just a school whose memories would be forever bittersweet.

He pushed open the swinging doors of the kitchen to reveal the masterpiece Hermione had created for him. It looked like something out of an Old Italian country home with its rustic tile and brick oven but it was his favorite room in the house. A place where friends could come together over for a meal and good times and just be normal without the dark threats of prophecies or cursed artifacts hanging over their heads.

Typically if he was home, he picked up most of the cooking duties, as that was a talent Ginny hadn't inherited from Molly Weasley. Unfortunately, most evenings they dined on takeaway due to their hectic schedules. He had made it a practice for he and Gin to sit down to a Saturday meal together, often shared with his two best friends, then later they would go out for the evening to the cinema or such. With such busy lives, he didn't want their relationship to suffer.

He grabbed an ale from the ice box, taking several long pulls from the German brewed draft before shutting the door. The appearance of the appliance had been a cause for contention in the beginning, as Ginny had grown up in a strictly magical household and had a difficult time adjusting to anything different. He compromised on a great many things, such as those ridiculous pink curtains in their bedroom that he was still tempted to set aflame with a swift incendio but considering he did most of the chores in the kitchen, she could adjust to their kitchen carrying the illusion of the muggle kitchen he had grown up in.

Take out containers and dirty plates were spread across the counter making him turn up his nose in disgust. When he wasn't home, Ginny could be a bit of a slob. "Is it really too much to ask to get rid of this shite?" He muttered, before flicking his wand toward the mess and watching for a few seconds as water and soap was added to the sink for a quick clean up. He wasn't as anal retentive as his Aunt Petunia regarding cleaning but neither did he like living in a sty.

The ale was drained, bottle chucked in the refuse and he decided against putting a sandwich together, his appetite destroyed by the messy room. Pausing, he tilted a head to the ceiling, noticing the rumble of music that shook the floor and obviously came from the upper levels.

"She's home?" He brightened, eager to see the woman he was planning to spend the rest of his life with and ignoring the small spike of speculation as to why she was home from Qudditch practice so soon.

He didn't think twice about the quick apparition to their bedroom but he did stop short at the sight that greeted him. There were burning candles everywhere. Those funny scented ones Ginny claimed no bedroom was complete without. These were a gaudy scarlet, filling the air with the smell of vanilla and roses, a stench he would always feel nauseated by if confronted with in the future.

The music came from the extensive wizarding wireless resting on a large bookcase opposite the bed. Thankfully it was a song he couldn't place and from that day forth would be banished to the furthest recesses of his mind.

None of this was as damaging as the sight of his fiancée's bare back as she eagerly rode Dean Thomas' dick in their bed.

"Honey, I'm home."

The dry comment had the occupants of their large bed scrambling for cover. "Harry!"

The dual squawks of surprise would have been amusing, if he wasn't busy resisting the urge to raise his wand and releasing the most painful Cruicatus curse he was capable of casting. For at that moment, exactly six weeks before their wedding, he hated Ginerva Weasley more than he had ever despised Voldemort.

"This isn't what it looks like," Thomas stuttered, his eyes wide with not a little fear as he shoved Ginny aside so he could wrap the sheets around his waist and roll out of the bed.

"That's rather interesting," Harry shrugged, eyes coming upon the empty bottle of wine and the elegant glasses etched with a fine scripted B on the bedside table. Bastards had no trouble raiding the wine cellar he had carefully put together or the heirloom Black crystal stemware.

"Because it looks like, mind you I could probably use a new prescription for my contacts after that eye scorching sight, but it definitely looked like you were fucking Ginny. In my house. In my bed," he finished in a low growl that had made more than one suspect nervous.

"I didn't realize you'd be home," Ginny blurted, then slapped a hand over her mouth as if that could take the damning words away.

"I think that much was obvious but I believe the real question, Ginny dear, is how long you've been cheating behind my back and if I should have myself checked over by a healer for any suspicious fleas or ticks you might have picked up while slutting about like a bitch in heat."

The flush of embarrassment drained from her face, quickly turning to fury and a sneer to mar what he had once considered a beautiful face. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"I thought it was quite obvious, didn't you Thomas?" He posed the question with wide eyed innocence to his former Gryffindor dorm mate who looked as if he would rather be anywhere but trapped in Harry Potter's bedroom. Perhaps, the man should have considered that before he climbed into bed with Ginny and not after.

"Look." Harry drew in a deep breath and released it in a rush, before rolling his neck in an attempt to release some of the tension building there. He was surprised he had held on to his temper for this long. All he knew was if he cut loose this dark rage he held in a tremulous grip, it would destroy his life and he hadn't survived a War and a Dark Lord to throw everything he achieved away for Ginny Weasley.

"I'm going to do you a favor. Why don't you pick up your things and leave my home now and I'll think about not separating you from that which makes you a man."

"Harry, look I'm sorry." Thomas spilled the rush of words as he began to gather his clothes. There was a brief scuttle for the sheet between him and Ginny before she finally gave in and stalked from the bed to snatch down the dressing gown hanging from the open wardrobe door.

"I'm sure I don't want your apology right now either." He folded his arms across his chest before reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose trying to stop the growing ache behind his eyes. The man appariated out of the bedroom without sparing Ginny a backward glance. Again he might have laughed if this entire situation hadn't been at his expense.

When they were finally alone, Harry leaned against the front of the breakfront, watching Ginny and wondering just when things had gone so wrong between them and how he had missed the signs that it had.

"Harry I can explain." She sat down and looked at him through the mirror of her dressing table. When she turned to meet his gaze, her face was bleak and contrite. The picture of regret. "You see after practice this evening, some of the girls and I went down to a pub for a round of drinks. Dean was there, along with Seamus and some of the old crowd from Hogwarts. "

"Do you honestly think I care?" He asked, not even bothering to hide the revulsion in his voice. "I suppose I should be grateful I didn't walk in on an orgy."

"I would never do something so foul." She actually sounded appalled, as if she hadn't just been discovered fucking another man in their bed. "Harry, I love you. This was a horrible mistake, I know, but you have to forgive me."

"I don't think I could possibly express how disgusted those words just made me. You mistakenly brought another man home and you mistakenly removed your clothes, so you could mistakenly fuck him. Did I get that right because I don't want to leave out any of your mistakes?" Rage waved through him that he had to clench his fists against a burst of wild magic he hadn't performed since his teen years. Despite the attempt, the empty wine bottle shattered loudly making Ginny flinch. "You need to leave, Ginny."

"Leave? But Harry this is our home. Together."

"No, this is my home. Mine. You have no claims to it despite what you may believe to the contrary."

Her eyes widened in disbelief as she seemed to realize the pouty look of penitence wasn't going to win him over. "We're getting married in six weeks!"

"Married in six weeks? You keep telling yourself that. I'd sooner raise Snape from the dead and marry him before ever bonding myself to a faithless cow like you. Now, I would appreciate it if you collected your things and removed yourself from my home."

"Harry don't do this, please. This was the only time, I swear. We had been drinking and things got a little carried away."

"Carried away? Carried away? Candles? Music? Wine? The food downstairs," he spat viciously, a wild arm gesturing to the atmosphere he had walked in on. "That doesn't sound carried away to me. That sounds fucking planned. That sounds like you taking advantage of the fact that I was in New York. That's what the hell it sounds like to me!"

He watched her swallow visibly at his anger. She stood to move to him but hastily changed her mind at his pointed glare. "You're right. I'm sorry Harry, I'm so sorry. I don't know why," she broke off and shrugged futilely as tears began to trail down her flushed face. "But don't destroy the home we're building together because I did something so terribly stupid."

How dare she throw the words he told her back in his face? The home they were building together? "I'm going to remember you're my best mate's little sister and not curse you for saying that to me. You have one hour to get your shite and get out. Don't be here when I return."

StS

He wasn't surprised to find Hermione and Ron on the couch of his sitting room when he arrived home. He had taken a long mindless walk through the city and somehow an hour had turned into three. Yet even that hadn't calmed his temper. It was difficult to understand what he was more furious about. Granted on a really selfish man level, he was pissed about finding his woman fucking another man. Being cuckolded by the woman he loved was right up there with a bout of the clap. Or impotency. Then there were all the dreams he had been building around the life they would have after they married.

Successful careers. Children.

Now the very thought of having sex with Ginny again made him feel like tossing the Thai take-out he had just managed to choke down twenty minutes ago.

And to top off a very pisser of an evening, he had to rehash the day's events with his two best friends. "'Mione, Ron." He closed the door behind him, ignoring their looks of discomfort and headed over to fireplace to sit. "What can I do for you?"

"What can you do for us! What the hell do you think you can do?"

"Harry," Hermione cut off Ron's angry rant, elbowing him in the side in the process. He had to admire how quickly she had trained the guy. Although his face flushed a bright beet red, Ron shut up just as she had wanted. "Ginny told us you broke off the engagement tonight when you got home from New York this afternoon."

"Did she?"

They both blinked at that. Probably expected the typical Harry Potter response, where he lost his temper and began shouting. He was beyond that first flash of rage. If he hadn't lost it with Ginny and Thomas, he certainly wasn't going to now.

"Yes," Hermione began again, tentatively. "What happened?"

"Oh, you don't know? She didn't tell you why I broke the engagement?"

"Only that you were upset," Hermione answered.

"And that you kicked her out and called her foul names!" Ron's shout rage wasn't to be held back any longer, as he pushed aside his wife's protests and shot to his feet. "What the hell is with that, mate? That's my sister! You have no business treating her that way."

"I'm impressed you held back that long," Harry muttered, before raking a hand through his hair. "I'm guessing, Ron, if you came home and found Hermione in bed with, oh let's just say Viktor Krum, that you would set out the tea service?"

"What?" Hermione had definitely been around her mother-in-law too much lately, for that shriek was classic Molly Weasley.

"Oh, yes. Dearest Ginerva was in bed with another man when I got home, that's what ended the engagement." He sneered without any remorse, "But I suppose, that's okay because she's your sister right?"

"She didn't!" Hermione looked positively scandalized. "Maybe you didn't see exactly what was going on Harry."

"Pretty difficult to mistake a tramp riding a bloke's dick in my bed, 'Mione," he drawled.

"Hey, now!"

"Hey what Ron?" He glared toward the man in question. "You're either here as Ginny's brother or my best friend. You can't be both because from where I'm sitting, I have the fucking right to be furious!"

"Perhaps we should try to calm down for a second, before someone says something they will regret." The smile on Hermione's face was tight and more than a bit desperate as she tried to regain control of the situation. She above all else knew how quickly her husband could fly into a temper and say something stupid.

"Molly of course is terribly upset, as was Arthur. Ginny's staying at the Burrow for now. We're all just shocked, Harry and want to know what happened. Ginny isn't saying anything, so you're the only one who can explain."

"Harry's the one-"

"The one who was betrayed, Ron? Is that what you were going to say," he shook his head incredulously, "Because I don't know what else you could possibly say. I went to the States for work and when I returned home, I found my fiancé in bed with another man. There is no defense for that! So I put her out! The relationship is over! Ginny is now free to have sex with Dean Thomas anytime it fits her fancy but she won't do it while claiming to be in love with me and in my house!"

Ron flinched as the truth of his words hit the mark. He wanted to feel bad, really, because Ginny was his sister but it was rather difficult to manage when he was the one who had been made a fool of. "But you're getting married," he whined.

"I think we all know that's not ever happening." And just like that, the anger seemed to drain away leaving nothing but an empty sorrow in his belly.