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.

Warnings: If continued, this will be a slash. If you don't like it, please don't read it and flame me 'cause you decided to ignore this. Also, this chapter has some pretty heavy swearing.

Dedication: To the doughnuts that gave me the energy to complete this after having to read the entirety of 'My Antonia' in one night, and also to all of my reviewers- je t'aime. Also, thank you to my readers. You are lovely! gives readers little chocolate Dracos

-----Have a little freetime? I'm looking for a beta! PM me or e-mail me using the e-mail in my profile if you're interested. -Crim. ------

What Hurts the Most, Chapter 4

Harry Potter thought that he was doing very well, thank you very much, and was elated that he really hadn't though about his ex-lover at all in the three days that he had been gone. Okay, so he had thought about him a bit. Or all the time, it didn't matter- at least he had gotten over the weeping every time something reminded him about Malfoy.

When had he resorted to using Malfoy? Thirteen hours, five minutes, and twenty eight seconds ago? That sounded about right. Yes, Harry Potter was doing just fine without Draco Malfoy.

He could help but let a single tear fall as his heart clenched at the old memory. As much as he was loathe to admit, Harry Potter was still very much in love with Draco Malfoy, even though the betrayal had ripped his heart in two. Perhaps he was naïve, perhaps he was incompetent, but still… the image of the blond Adonis haunted him everywhere he went. Damn. He had it bad.

Every single time he blinked his eyes, there Draco was, thrusting into the mousy-haired man and it never failed to tear his heart into more pieces. Harry knew, deep down somewhere, that he shouldn't be letting Draco-fucking-Malfoy effect him this much- he was nothing more than dirt. Nothing more than decomposed organics. And yet, why did it hurt so much? But then again, he already knew the answer, didn't he? God damn it, he loved the fucking backstabber. It was killing him.

When his mind wasn't occupied by the Ferret, it undoubtedly reverted to his friends and how he had left them with no condosolences. How would they feel? How would they react, now that Malfoy had finally betrayed them, just as they said he would all along? Ron'd probably throw an apoplectic fit, and one could never guess how Hermione would act- she was pregnant, wasn't she? She was bipolar; happy one second, dejected and whimpering the next. Goddess, what could he do? He couldn't go back, he already knew that. He could, at least, write a letter. That, at least (he hoped) could satisfy them until he was settled. Then they could kill him after then, he couldn't care less. He just knew that life without Draco wasn't worth it. Taking up a pen in one hand, a spare piece of paper in the other, Harry began his letter.

To Everyone, it began,

I'm sorry I've left, but trust me, there was no other choice. None of you have done anything, so don't worry. Especially you, Ron, Hermione. Just know this- I'm safe and I'll get to you again when I'm settled. Don't worry.

Love always,

Harry

"Don't worry!?!?" A frantic Ron yelled, his voice oddly high pitched, waving the letter in front of Hermione's face. "He tells us 'don't worry' ? He's gone, poof, no trace of Harry and he wrote us a letter telling us 'not to worry'? What the fuck is he on?" Jerking to face Hermione, Ron gulped audibly, anger changing to worry. "Do you think something happened to him, Hermione?"

Hermione surveyed Ron calmly, thanking the Gods silently at least someone knew control. Though her heart ached for her M.I.A. friend, she no less knew that he wouldn't have left without some sort of a reason, and somehow, she suspected, that had to do with one Draco Malfoy. "Ron," Hermione said, ever the voice of reason, "do you not think that Harry had a reason to leave? I don't think anything happened to him," at Ron's grimace, she raised an eyebrow. "I think just as well as you do that our favorite Slytherin played a part in this." At this, Ron opened his mouth and began to say something but the bushy haired ex-Gryffindor silenced her husband with a dark look. "I think, if anyone, that you have to be angry with, Draco Malfoy is that person. I think, my dear husband, that we should pay Harry's lover a little visit. Don't you agree?" Hermione noted sadistically that with every word she spoke, Ron's eyes brightened ever so slightly and that a maniacal grin began to replace the grimace.

"I agree, Hermione my love, I agree completely." Pressing a kiss to her lips, Ron chuckled darkly. "Shall we?"