A/N: I am so sorry about not updating sooner but I had surgery last week (Don't worry, all is well!) so I have been recovering from that and trying to keep up with my AP English homework and going to work (I don't know why I took AP English in my senior year). Anyway, I won't ramble any more.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, it is all JK Rowling's…Lucky woman!!

Warnings: This is boy on boy (I think you should have figured this out by now though people!). This chapter though should be pretty tame, except for language.

Chapter Four: Will We Sleep Once I Tell You What's Hurting Me?

"Explain," Mr. Weasley repeated as he glared balefully at Harry from across the table. Harry just sighed again and leaned the chair on it's backmost legs, crossing his arms in a typical badass pose.

"Explain what exactly? You're not giving me too much to work with here."

"You know exactly what I mean, Harry." He threw a copy of The Daily Prophet onto the table in front of Harry. The picture of him and Malfoy kept demonstrating their pent up sexual frustration over and over again. Harry fingered the edge of the paper before he turned it over.

"Oh. That," he replied, not too keen on talking about his actions with anyone. He didn't even really know how to explain this to himself, let alone the people he called family.

"Yes, that. What is that exactly?" asked Mr. Weasley, voicing the thoughts of everyone gathered around the table.

"I think the picture tells what exactly that is," Harry bit back before he could stop himself. I don't want to fight with them! Why can't they just butt the fuck out of my life for once?

"Do you even know who that guy is?" asked Hermione as calmly as she could. Harry snorted at her question and turned his eyes onto her. Each green eye was full of mirth.

"Oh yes. You all know who he is too." But I am not telling you who, he added to himself. There was silence in the kitchen as the Weasley family and Hermione waited for Harry to elaborate. When he wasn't forthcoming with any information, Hermione sighed.

"You aren't going to tell us, are you Harry?"

"Obviously not."

"Harry Potter," Mrs. Weasely interjected. "I believe as your parental figure, I have a right to know who you are going around and snogging at all times of the night! And we need to talk about your drinking habits. What has gotten into that brain of yours?" Harry scoffed in disbelief. What the fuck?

"First of all, I never asked for you to be my parental figure. You just went and fucking did that yourself. Second, I don't need to tell you anything! I am of age and you are not my fucking mother! As for my drinking "habits", as you call them, I'm living my life for once. No one is telling me what the hell to do and I love it. You, however, have just ruined that by trying to be my mother. Newsflash! My mother died. If you don't like my behaviors then maybe you can move the fuck out of my house!" Harry slammed his chair back onto the ground and stood up. "You just barged in here anyway and never actually asked to stay. You just assumed it was all okay to shack up here. Did you ever even think that maybe I wanted some privacy?" By this point Harry was seething. He was so angry that he could feel tears welling up in his eyes. Mrs. Weasley looked shocked for a moment before her hands went up to her hips.

"How dare you talk to me like that! I have been trying for years to make your life worth living, showing you what love really is and this is how you treat me? I am disgusted at your recent behavior! You've never acted like this before and I don't understand it anymore. I have tried to let you just get your rebellious tendencies out, thinking that maybe it was a phase you were going through but this is getting to be ridiculous!"

"You're the one who is ridiculous!" Harry threw up his hands. "This is all getting to be ridiculous. My house. My rules. My life. Butt the fuck out." He slammed his fists onto the table with a crash that shook the entire table.

"You really need to watch your language Harry," Hermione said. She just has to put her two fucking pence in doesn't she?

"Did you not just hear what I said?" Harry shook his head. "Unbelievable. You people are unbelievable." Harry took one look around the table and walked around it. Mr. Weasley looked like he was going to try to stop Harry before he left, but he took one look at Harry's seething form and decided against it. This didn't go unnoticed by Harry. At least someone here has some sort of wits about them.

"Harry?" a faint voice called after him. He stopped and turned to look at who had spoken.

"What Ginny?" he snapped.

"I'm sorry." Harry gave her a curt nod and swept out the door, not looking back at the people he once considered family.

»

Harry was once again sitting at the bar of Club One, downing drink after drink. People were staring at him but he really didn't care. He just wanted to be numb. He needed to forget and not to feel. He was wallowing in his self-pity.

"My my my, here again Potter?" the smooth, velvet voice of one Draco Malfoy inquired as he slipped his arms around Harry and rested his head on his. Harry shrugged him off.

"What do you want Malfoy?" he snapped at the other man.,

"Testy much Potter?" He quirked his eyebrow in the Malfoy fashion that Harry remembered from their days of fighting in school. Harry just blankly looked at him, waiting for an answer. Draco sighed and sat down next to Harry. "I think it's quite obvious what I want Potter. You." Harry snorted into the glass of fire whiskey he was consuming.

"I'm sure you use that line on all the guys."

"Actually, I usually just tell them that I want to fuck them and then be done with them, never to see them again."

"Oh. I see?" Draco chuckled.

"No you don't. But that's okay." Draco signaled the bartender over and ordered a drink. When the man saw the two together again this night, his eyes bugged out of his head. The bartender now knew that the blond haired man from the night before was none other than Draco Malfoy. Draco just laughed at the man's expression.

"Wha's so funny?" Harry slightly slurred.

"Oh nothing. Other than the fact that the gossip of a bartender now knows it was me and you the other night on the dance floor."

"Shit," was all Harry said. He looked around the room, trying to see if there were any photographers around.

"They're not here yet but I bet they will be in five minutes time," said Draco as he swiftly stood and grabbed Harry around the waste. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

"Where are we going?" asked Harry as he let Draco lead him out the door.

"My place."

A/N: So I know I know. I'm evil and all that jazz. But I need to write a paper on Othello and the Super Bowl is going to be on later (GO STEELERS!). Also, I'm going dress shopping with my friend Kati for Formal this Saturday. I need to look like a hot momma to get me a man. lol. I'll try to update soon.