A/N: Hey guys- I'm so busy this week it's ridiculous. I may/may not update next week depending on how things are going in my school life, so if I get behind, I'm sorry. This chapter is for all my reviewers, especially ClaireBouldwin and Sharon T- thanks for the words, every time.
Enjoy and as always let me know what you think.
Chapter 9:
Harry swirled his chip in the gravy and tossed it into his mouth. He hated this program on the wireless, it was stupid and trite and not funny in the least. But Harry wasn't about to get up and tune the wireless to another station, and he couldn't be arsed to get up and fetch his wand from the side table either. He couldn't be arsed to do a lot of things lately- like shower, or brush his hair, or go to work. Luckily he had had three weeks of holiday time that he had hoarded away to take Draco, Andromeda, and Teddy away to New York for the school hols, but that wouldn't matter anymore.
At first Harry had hated Draco for that. Harry had caved after the first day of his ultimatum to Draco and he Floo'd Draco's house in Darby. Harry had fire called as soon as he had woken up in the morning, full of remorse and guilt for not trying to understand Draco's point-of-view in the matter. Harry had always stood up for the disenfranchised and the poor and yet the first time Draco did it Harry had the hypocrisy to demand that Draco turn over his dream job and let go of his beliefs just because some of them went against Harry's.
Harry fire called Draco's house at least fifteen times before tea and every time he got the stupid stock witch voice saying this Floo user is either out or engaged, please try your toss at another time. Harry tried to distract himself by reading a book- a thing he had tried to avoid doing even in the Auror Academy, and then had tried Floo-ing again, and it was still bloody engaged. Either Draco was on the world's longest call to Cho or his aunt or he was out. Right before bed that night Harry tried one final call, before he decided that he would get the message once and for all- that Draco didn't want to be with him anymore.
The Floo was engaged.
Harry had never thought that Draco would be the one to pull out of the relationship first. Draco had always been the one to leave but always left himself rather accessible to Harry, by ringing Cho up at dispatch to bring him food at posh hotels or by Floo-ing Andromeda after a few days from Wales out of boredom. He had never actually ever turned down Harry's overture after a fight, ever. It made it all the more clear that things were really over between them, a thing that Harry wasn't at all prepared to deal with no matter how much he had blustered at Draco.
Harry bit down on another chip and listened to the canned laughter on the wireless. He didn't know what to do- part of him wanted to go to Darby and settle this one way or the other and then the other side of himself shouted out that there was no greater settling than ignoring someone's Floos.
Harry's own Floo roared to life but he ignored the flutter of hope that rose in his chest- Harry had given up hope three days ago that Draco would come through Grimmauld Place and back into his life. Now the only visitors he had were the Weasleys and Harry wanted to knock the concerned looks off of their faces even though he felt a bit guilty for that knee-jerk reaction. He just wanted to be left alone, to morn his loss like anyone else who had lost something this precious to them. Harry's friends had never understood what it was like between him and Draco and honestly he had thought at times that they had done their best to make Draco feel as unwelcome as Fleur Weasley had felt in the beginning.
"Hey," Ron said, poking his ginger head through the space between the door and the doorway. "I brought some takeaway but I guess that means that there's more for me."
"Reckon so," Harry sighed, sitting up and plopping the cold container of chips off of his stomach and onto the floor. "How was work?"
"Miserable," Ron said, and Harry tried not to wince as Ron took the chair that Draco had been seated at the day they had ended their relationship. "The Minister had us in with the Hit Wizards for three hours in the morning to talk about effective capture measures whatever that's supposed to bloody mean and then Robards had us pair up with trainees and teach them grappling."
"I don't mind training with them," Harry said wistfully- the trainees were sometimes the best part of the job-they were still enthusiastic about it.
"Well," Ron said tiredly. "The one I got clean ripped my robe off me. Took Hermione two mending charms to fix the shoulder."
Ron gesture to a neat seam in the shoulder and Harry laughed. Then the laugh hurt.
That was what he had always wanted. Someone to mend his robes when he came home from work, but even Hermione didn't mend Ron's robes without a lot of ill humor. Draco would have never mended his robes, in fact Harry would have had to deal with singed robes from Draco setting them on fire before Draco would have mended them by charming them permanently onto Harry's face. Harry smiled at the notion- Harry had his dreams and Draco had his own and they definitely clashed, a thing which had made their relationship interesting and then horribly difficult.
"Have you heard from Malfoy?" Ron asked, as though he could read Harry's mind, a matter that Harry thought was up for debate as they constantly managed to fish each other's thoughts out of their heads.
"No," Harry said shortly, reaching for his butterbeer- this was something he did not want to elaborate on- especially to someone like Ron who was likely to go to Darby and punch in Draco's face for breaking it off with Harry.
Harry had already cried all his tears for their relationship and now he was stuck in this awful half-world where everything reminded him of Draco. The shoes on the stairs reminded him of the time Draco left shoes on the stairs and he had fallen and how they had laughed; the butterbeer and chips he was eating reminded Harry of the first time Harry had gone to Draco's local in Kent and how surprised he had been to see Draco eating chips and vinegar, and how nervous and excited he had been, overcome with his crush.
"Sorry," Ron said with a shrug. "You could try going to see him, mate- only, don't tell Hermione that I said that."
Harry laughed a little, miserably. He'd never actually heard Ron reference the fact that Hermione didn't much care for Draco, it was funny that now that their relationship was over everything like this was coming out of the woodwork when before was when they should have made a stand on the issue. So much for being Gryffindors.
"I could," Harry said, trying not to make it sound as though it was something he debated with himself every day. "But I tried calling Draco all day the first day and he ignored my Floos- his fire was engaged all day, Ron. I think that he really is over me."
"Or he could just have been really cross," Ron said with his bursts of insight that made him an excellent best mate. "Maybe he needed time to cool down and think about the situation. Or maybe his Floo was out of order, or he could have actually been out doing something, Harry. You can't assume unless you have a conversation with Malfoy and settle it once and for all. You'll only live with regret if you don't."
Harry shook his head slowly- he had thought that too, but there had been too many reasons behind his and Draco's breakup, including the fact that he didn't approve of Draco's job up in Darby and that Draco didn't particularly care for Harry's friends- something that was admittedly, a two-way street. While a lot of their problems could be solved by a shag or a deep conversation, Harry couldn't see those conversations being solved by anything but another argument. Harry had had so many chances to make it right- to ask Draco to bond with him or to move away before things had gotten bad, but he had always balked or put it off.
"Well," Ron sighed. "I don't know what to say, then. When Malfoy took care of you in hospital I thought you two could really make a go of it. I mean he's a right git, Harry, but he's a decent enough wizard these days- if you're into blokes I suppose you can do worse than Draco Malfoy. I thought I'd sever my own tongue out before I'd ever say that. But to each his own, at the end of the day you have to do what you feel is right."
Harry sighed- he'd waited a long time to hear Ron say that, but those words, like a lot of sentiment came too little too late.
Ron stood up and stretched his arms above his back, and they cracked a little. "Well," Ron declared, "I'm knackered. I have to be off- Hermione's going to be home soon and I promised her I'd be in before her. Come by for dinner, yeah? I'll tell Hermione that you are, and if you don't she'll be through here on the warpath."
"Alright," Harry sighed, rising to see Ron out of the room and down the stairs, taking the chip container and empty butterbeer bottles with him. "Have a goodnight."
"Night," Ron said, and leapt through the fire.
Harry walked though to the dining room and tossed the garbage into the bin. Even though he had tried to ignore the sentiment behind Ron's words, they had stayed with him.
Part of him had always wanted his friends' approval of his relationship and to know that all along Ron had liked Draco in a deeper way than he had thought really affected him. He had never known, or realized how stupid he had been. Draco had always rowed with him for relying on his mates and he had always laughed and tossed it aside, but Harry had been wrong. Everyone needed their friends, and perhaps Harry had never learned to compartmentalize quite as effectively as Draco. Harry had always wanted a family and approvals and maybe this was a way of finding it, and a way of losing out- it had certainly damaged his relationship with Draco.
Coming to a quick conclusion, Harry tossed some powder into the Floo and shouted out the address of the roundabout on which Draco lived. For a few moments the Floo fired to life a hopeful green and then-
This Floo user is either out or engaged, please try your toss at another time.
Harry sat back down on his haunches and began to cry.
Hermione was making pasta in the kitchen. Ever since she had found out she was pregnant she had given up rather entirely on the health food kick she had put Ron on, although she had made sure that the pasta was whole wheat. Ron said he didn't care as long as there was sauce and bread-Ron had an unhealthy fear that Hermione would take away bread again, once she had tried that. Occasionally Ron would stage a protest about the raw foods or the sushi but whenever he did Hermione would force him to cook for himself- after two or three burnt roasts, poor Ron would fall back into line.
Harry listened to their squabbling with a small smile, dipping his bread into his sauce and then biting a piece off. If he kept a bland smile on his face and his mouth full of food he wouldn't have to actually engage in conversation, which was good, since his mind was still consumed by the breakup a week later. There was no reason for him to lie about it and say it wasn't- he was so full of regret about the whole thing that he still couldn't believe it was real.
Harry wanted to go over to Dismal Alley and find Draco and shake him and say don't you love me? But it wasn't worth it. It wasn't. He just had to keep telling himself that, everyday, and it would work out.
"Beltane's coming up," Ron said, more to say something than because any of them were of the old faith. "Ministry will be holding the Beltane Ball, luckily I'm attending so I don't have to work security. Are you going this year, Harry?"
"No," Harry grunted, taking a sip of his water. Draco had picked out his dress robes for the event- a deep emerald green threaded with gold that the said brought out his eyes and skin color. Now they sat in the back of Harry's closet, still in their fancy garment bag, and it made Harry nauseous to see them every time he got dressed.
"Harry," Hermione said with concern. "Please, you're going to make yourself sick if you carry on like this. We're so worried about you- all of your friends are, Harry. Come out. You can make fun of everyone and get pissed and dance with me and Luna and even Ginny to stick Nott's nose out of joint. Only Harry- don't carry on this way. I don't even think Malfoy would have wanted this for you."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
"Whatever Draco Malfoy is," Hermione said stiffly, "It was obvious that he held some affection for you. Things like that just don't fade away with one minute to another, and if it didn't work out between you, the least you can do is try and lead a good life and be happy- he wouldn't want you to be miserable, Harry. None of us would."
Harry sighed- another case of everyone coming to the foreground and saying everything at the last minute. But no matter how late it was, Hermione was right. Draco had always loved Harry, and no matter how unkind they were to each other whilst they were fighting, he had always wanted Harry to do well and had loved him and respected him as a person. All the wonderful things that Harry had wanted in a partner Draco had been and more. It was true that if Draco had ever seen Harry carrying on this way he would have hexed him silly for being such a child-but Draco had-no, they had both done this to each other and in the end the hurting had outweighed the love.
"I'll go," Harry sighed to Hermione's smile. "Bloody dressing up."
"I hear you, mate," Ron commiserated.
Harry's feet pinched. He had wanted to wear his old dress shoes but Hermione had seen them and had said that they weren't up to snuff because they had a scuff on the left shoe. Harry thought that was a ridiculous reason for protesting a pair of shoes, and besides, who was going to look at his feet- now he was stuck in these good-look dragon-hide pair that were well-enough in a shop window but pinched his little toes like mad. Hermione looked very pretty herself, though; she had on a baby blue robe with one bare arm and one bare shoulder, and her hair was braided and coiled up with a row of pearls in it. Ron had complained that it was a poor use for his grandmother Prewett's jewels, but only when Hermione wasn't in earshot. Then he only called her beautiful and all that nonsense that girls loved to hear.
Harry was just thankful that at this event the war heroes as they were called weren't seated apart. Some hostesses liked to do that to give certain guests the opportunity to speak with one of them, but it had fallen out of favor after Ron had rather drunkenly complained about being separated from his fiancée at a dinner party. Hermione had been horrified but Harry thought it was the best thing that Ron had ever done except returning after storming off after the fight during their camping. At least now they could sit together and gossip without having to play nice so often to interlopers.
Across the ballroom Harry caught sight of someone. It was a bald man with plush red robes which matched rather awkwardly with his florid face. He stood next to a woman Harry could only assume was his wife- a horse-faced woman practically bedecked in jewels from the diamond tiara on the top of her ash-blond hair, to the large ruby on her ring finger. They were talking to a third person Harry could not see, and seemed rather amused.
"Who are they?" Harry asked Hermione, hoping to settle into some gossip.
"The Greengrasses," Hermione said, moving her lips carefully so that the husband could not see that they were being talked about. "Second wealthiest family in the wizarding world- Apollo Greengrass owns the Floo powder refinery- there's a saying that every time you toss off, you have to pay him a fee. The woman with him is his wife, Rodmilla, she's from a very old Eastern European family, that gave him a bit of trouble during the war. The Greengrasses were neutral, but you know how that goes."
"Were they?" Harry asked.
"They say that Greengrass supplied Voldemort with untraceable Floos so that he could pass information along, but it could be rumors now. A man like Greengrass has a lot of enemies."
The wife moved aside at that moment and Harry saw that there were not one, but two people with them- and that one was Draco. Harry gripped his tablecloth tightly. Draco looked absolutely lovely in black dress robes with a grey collar, his hair swept back from his face into a bouffant. He looked older and more refined, as though he had found his niche, but of course he had. Draco had been born for these kinds of events- socializing with the wealthy, making meaningless small talk, laughing with people he had barely met, and sampling rare wines. Harry had always balked away from the society luncheons he had been invited to, but he should have gone more often- for Draco's sake at the very least.
There was a girl with him. She looked younger than Hermione, but she could have been a bit older, Harry couldn't guess her age outright. She was a pretty girl; her face was nothing remarkable, in fact if Harry was being cruel he would have called it plain or even boring, but it had some nice features. She carried herself well and she had a very nice figure which she put to good use in her clinging dress- it was slivery and beaded with little tassels that drew attention to the swinging of her chest and hips. She tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulders and took Draco's arm.
Harry decided he hated her.
"Who is the girl-the blonde?" Harry hissed.
"Astoria Greengrass," Hermione said, softly. "She's a pediatric Healer, she went to Hogwarts around the time Ron and I were there. She was a Slytherin, I don't know very much about her, Harry."
Astoria Greengrass touched Draco's shoulder and then they both laughed- Harry could tell it was Draco's real laugh because Draco's nose scrunched up a bit and he shook his head slightly as though he was shocked that he was amused.
Harry watched them all night. Draco noticed him halfway through dinner- Harry saw Draco's hand slip on his fork. But then that cow put her hand on Draco's knee and smiled at him and he looked remarkably better. Harry scowled into his fish. Usually he liked fish too, but now he thought it was a bloody awful food and he'd never eat it again even if they paid him.
Draco and Astoria Greengrass only danced with each other. They didn't dance much- just the opening dance, the reel, which sent Draco's hair flying beautifully-Harry scowled again at that, and then finally the waltz. Draco really did dance skillfully, even with his arms about his Greengrass girl's waist, the two of them whispering together like they were as thick as two Hufflepuffs.
By the end of the night, Harry had come to a decision. The Greengrass party was leaving and everyone was getting their cloaks from check and Harry had to say something to Draco, once and for all, or he'd simply burst. A lot of his courage was simply Dutch; as he had drank more that night than he had in the three years that he had been with Draco. Anyway, Harry had to get it out, lay it all on the line, or make a bloody arse out of himself. At this moment it was a coin toss which he was more likely to do first.
The horse-faced Mrs. Greengrass and her husband walked out of the entrance hall and to what Harry presumed was a waiting carriage. Draco was placing an ermine stole on the Greengrass girl's shoulders. Harry tried to imagine Draco kissing those soft, thin shoulders or laughing into that tiny delicate ear- but he couldn't Draco was his, and they belonged together. Draco no more belonged to a pretty, curvy girl than Harry belonged back with Ginny Weasley-Nott or like some scandal mongers like to cook up, Hermione.
"Gods, I'm dying for a fag," Draco yawned. "I can't wait to get home."
"Neither can I," the girl agreed- she had a deeper voice than Harry had expected, with a more serious tone. "Are we ready, Pushy?" "Pushy?" Harry said, causing both of them to jump. The Greengrass girl looked a bit frightened.
"I'd better go along." She said neutrally. "I'll see you later, Draco."
"Coward," Draco said to her retreating form. Then he turned and crossed his arms and looked at Harry. "I see, now you want to come and talk to me, Potter."
"What," Harry spluttered. "What is that supposed to bloody mean, Draco?"
"You're pissed is what," Draco sighed, looking Harry up and down as though he found very little to be admire. "You waited all night to come and talk to me until you were drunk enough to come and hurl something at me that you made up- well, come on, tell me what it is, because it certainly can't be anything good if you've been fermenting like a brewery over it.."
"You are seeing that girl," Harry hissed. "That's why you're jumping down my throat like this- to cover it all up!"
"I can't even imagine how that makes sense," Draco snorted. "And you really think that low of me that I could go from seeing you to seeing Tory Greengrass in less than a month- wait, why am I trying to justify myself to you? Who I see doesn't matter to you anymore, Harry Potter- you stay out of my life, and I'll stay out of yours!"
