10
The Birthday Party
"Where there is love there is life."
― Mahatma Gandhi
It was Wednesday evening, and Harry hurried home. He still needed to shower and then head to the Burrow as fast as he could. The party had started at five o'clock, but Harry had training and couldn't leave earlier than five thirty. He hoped he would make it by six o'clock, or at least before half past six.
Adrenalin rushed through his veins as he got through his bathing routine in no time. This would be the first occasion to see Ginny again. However, that wasn't the only reason Harry dreaded going. He knew Molly would have heard from their temporary break-up, and he feared her reaction. She was probably so disappointed in him that she'd never want to see him again. At least, Harry would understand if she didn't. Moreover, Harry still hadn't spoken to his best friend, and Fred Junior's birthday party would be the perfect timing to handle that problem as well.
He dried himself off with a drying spell and quickly jumped into a tight fitting pair of black trousers, combined with an emerald blouse. He put on his favorite cologne and hurried into the living room. It was a quarter to six. He'd only be an hour late. Harry smiled, praising himself for preparing so quickly. He grabbed the present for Junior – Harry knew he already gave one, but he didn't want to turn up with empty hands – and then stepped into the fireplace. He preferred using the floo to travel, even though it always upset his stomach, because he hated Apparating.
Harry stepped out at the right chimney and looked around the Burrow. He still remembered the first time he'd been here. Everything had seemed so incredibly strange, but yet exciting. Even using the floo had been a whole adventure. With a cheeky grin on his face, he dusted off his robes. The house was still as stuffed as it was before. However, now that all the Weasley children had moved out, Molly and Arthur had saved some money to renovate the house a little, and demolish some of the superfluous chambers.
"Harry, dear!" Molly exclaimed, walking up to him. She dusted off his shoulders – that were as of this moment completely dust-free – and put his glasses straight, a motherly habit that never faded. Even though all her kids were grown-ups now, she still made sure they were doing okay.
"Hi, Molly. How are you?" Harry greeted, happy to see her. It had been a few months since he'd last seen his mother-in-law. A tight knot formed in his stomach as he thought of his relationship with Ginny, and what it would to the old lady.
"Oh, I'm great, just great. It's very busy right now, you see. Our little Fred Junior's already seven! Can you believe it Harry? Seven! Three more years to go and we'll be heading back to Hogwarts!" Her red curly hair was fading into grey and the wrinkles that only used to appear when she smiled rested on her face permanently. Nevertheless, she was still a pretty woman, and very vibrant for her age.
"Come on in the kitchen, that's where all the guests are. You can put your present on the table over there. Come, come," she gestured, starting to walk to the rather small kitchen. The small, but well-covered woman grabbed Harry's present and put it on the table, while Harry entered the noisiest room of the Burrow. The place was stuffed with people. Immediately, a smile appeared on Harry's face. It had been long since he'd seen all of the Weasley's together. At Rose and Hugo's birthday, Ron had refused to invite Percy, and at Roxanne's birthday Charlie had been occupied abroad, handling a Chinese Fireball.
However, at this very gathering the six Weasley kids and their families had all managed to free up some time. Harry greeted the oldest Weasleys and small talked – Charlie managed to capture Harry's attention a bit longer than Bill, informing him about his dangerous adventures with the Dragons – before making his way over to George.
"Hi. Congratulations," Harry smiled, slapping the older man's back friendly. Harry was glad the man was standing alone.
"Thanks, Harry. How are you holding up?" George replied. A plate with glasses of champagne was floating around the room, and Harry quickly grabbed one when it passed by, serving himself.
"Good, I guess. I haven't seen Ginny since that day, so …" Harry trailed off, looking around the room to spot the woman he used to share his bed with.
"It's going to be alright, Harry. I already told you. Ginny's doing great. I haven't seen her this busy and happy in a while," George replied, clearly happy about the situation. "I'm sorry," he quickly added when he saw how Harry's face saddened. The fact that he was the cause of her unhappiness stung. On the other hand, she was the cause for his lifelessness as well, so who was there to blame?
Harry glanced over to his wife, finally spotting her in the crowded room. Her dark red hair was hanging over her shoulders, small curls giving her coupe more volume. Blue eyes stared back at him, and a small smile crossed Harry's face. Ginny returned the smile, nodding at him and waving to come over.
"I think it's time to go. Wish me luck." Harry swallowed thickly before heading over to the only woman in the Weasley family. George just shook his head, looking at the duo in disbelief.
"I can't believe they can't tell how happy they are to be separated," he muttered to Angelina, who had stepped closer to him once Harry was gone.
"I think they just find it hard to let go. The heart is a strange thing, George," Angelina replied thoughtfully. George eyed his wife adoringly, then spoke again.
"Feelings change, sweetpie. The heart changes. They have grown up together, but still managed to grow apart. Maybe it's time for them to go their own way. They need to stop holding on to something that no longer exists."
"Wise guy," Angelina laughed, kissing her husband on the mouth. "I'm one hundred percent sure my feelings won't change for you, honey," she whispered in his ear. The couple shared another kiss, both oblivious to the rest of the family.
"Hi," Ginny greeted when Harry finally got to her. On his way there, Katie Bell had wanted to talk to him, catching up with each other's lives. After that, Percy had made his entrance, announcing himself in the pompous way he always did. He was glad to have reached his wife, and sat down next to her gratefully. He wasn't good in parties. He always felt out of place, like he was the one intruding when he was actually just invited. Harry knew he was as much a part of the family as anyone else, but the feeling never left.
"Hi, Harry," Ginny smiled, handing him over another glass of champagne. "Nice party, isn't it?" Good. Ginny was going to small talk. That was a nice way to start their conversation.
"Yeah. I'm glad everyone could make it. How's the therapy going for you?" Harry replied, plastering a smile on his face.
"It's going great, thanks. Malfoy's wonderful, you know. I never knew I would say this, but he's changed for the better. Being apart for a while made me realize how much I was missing out on. There are so many people that I wanted to keep in touch with, so many things that I still wanted to do. Somehow, I forgot about all that."
"Good," Harry replied, feeling odd. Ginny used to be the one begging him to stay, not throwing in a revelation like that. He knew that was the very reason why he'd suggested they'd live apart for a while, but right now, he couldn't take it. A boyish jealousy washed over him as he thought of Ginny, leading her life for herself. Wasn't this what he wanted? "I'm glad you're doing great, Ginny. I thought you'd never speak to me again," Harry said, to keep the conversation going.
"At first I didn't want to. But then I realized your courage, Harry. It's not easy to let go of something you've fought so hard for. Especially when you're not sure what's coming next. You're a brave man, having the guts to throw away all the certainty. I knew it was time for me to do the same."
"Don't try to flatter me, Ginny. I'm not happy with myself at all," Harry sighed, taking a large sip from his new glass. The longer he sat there, the more ill-at-ease he became.
"Don't be like that. I know you don't want to hurt me, Harry, but you can't go back now. I miss you, I really do, but not as much as I thought I would. At first I thought I'd never stop crying. Then I thought, if you can have fun, then I can too." Harry just gaped at his wife, overwhelmed by the energy radiating off her. This lust for life had always been a typical trait for Ginny. Somewhere along the way she had lost it. Right now, she was becoming herself again.
"Do you think we'll still get together?" Harry asked, surprised that he brought up that question. Before, he wouldn't even have taken the time to ask her that question, knowing the answer would be a hopeful 'yes we will, right Harry?'.
"I don't know. Who knows what the future brings? I'm here with Dean, so it's all very exciting. Did you know he plays football in a Muggle footballclub? Amazing right?" Harry followed Ginny's admiring stare and saw Dean talking to Hermione. The man had grown a lot since Harry had last seen him. He was very muscular as well, and Harry couldn't help but feel a green wave of jealousy splashing over him.
"No I didn't," he replied tonelessly. It turned out Ginny didn't miss him at all. Why was it that nobody cared if he was feeling alright or not? When he decided to leave Ginny, all hell broke loose. Now Ginny's doing great on her own and everything's as thick as thieves. Admitted, Harry was happier as well, but why did he feel so jealous over Dean? Was it because he hadn't managed to make Ginny happy? Was it because he still loved her? Or was it because nobody loved him anymore?
"You wouldn't believe how great he is, Harry. He and Seamus are still best friends, you know? You used to be close to Seamus, didn't you?" Ginny continued animatedly.
"Yeah, that's right," Harry replied. The longer the conversation lasted, the duller he felt, and he quickly excused himself. He exited the crowded kitchen and took a walk outside. The fields were quiet, and Harry tried to calm down again, creating a little space between him and the kitchen. What was happening to him? What had he done? He paced around the back yard, trying to set his mind to rights but failing to do so. The more he thought, the more confused he became.
"Brooding boy in the meadow," a familiar voice said. Harry's head shot up, looking to the area where the voice had come from. Malfoy was sitting on one of the benches, his long legs folded, eyes fixed on the Survivor. He was wearing a brown cashmere pullover, combined with cream pants.
"What are you doing here?" Harry exclaimed, more coarsely than he intended.
"I was invited to the Weasley's party, Potter. However, I didn't feel like I was in the right place, so I decided to enjoy the panoramic view instead of joining the party-animals." Malfoy looked around the grasslands with an admiring look, a peaceful aura surrounding him.
"Why have you been invited?" Harry asked bluntly. Honestly, he had no idea what Malfoy had to do with the Weasleys. Their families were arch-enemies. Besides, he felt a little busted, because he'd been so caught up in his own thoughts.
"For your interest, Potter, the Weaslette invited me here. Mrs. Weasley thought it'd be a great idea, since I helped you both forward." Harry quirked an eyebrow, surprised that Malfoy had respectfully named Molly by her rightful last name. However, the last sentence made him grind his teeth.
"Yeah, especially Ginny," Harry grunted, folding his arms in front of his chest.
"Are you sulking because the Weaslette is having a good time?" Malfoy questioned, all-knowingly. The amused glint in his stormy eyes just pissed Harry off some more.
"You'd think after all this time you've spent together you'd start calling her by her real name, Malfoy," Harry fired back, avoiding the question.
"We don't call each other by our first names either, now do we?" Malfoy's grey eyes shone dangerously, and Harry remained silent. "You haven't responded to the question, Potter."
"How perceptive of you. What is this, another one of your sessions?" Harry barked. He stopped pacing around and eyed the former Death Eater with angrily.
"No. I just noticed how you were so caught up in your own thoughts that you completely overlooked me. When are you going to stop being such an imbecile, Potter?" Harry was pleased to hear that he was getting on Malfoy's nerves.
"I'm not an imbecile."
"Then stop acting like one," Malfoy whizzed, standing up from the bench. He stepped closer to Harry, his long figure hovering over the shorter man. Harry knew he was being a pain in the arse, but he didn't care.
"Why is it that every time you see me, you want to talk about my doomed relationship?" Harry fumed. He refused to give in to the Ice Prince.
"That's what you wanted to talk about right now, isn't it?" Malfoy questioned. His pink lips curled, forming a small grin. Harry was momentarily distracted by Malfoy's half-smile.
"No, er. I mean, yeah – but I didn't want to talk to you."
"Then leave." Malfoy's tone was firm, announcing the end of their conversation. Suddenly, Harry felt uneasy, not sure what to do. He didn't want to leave, at all.
"No. It's just. I hate that all of this is merely professional bullshit." Harry shrugged, looking everywhere but at Malfoy.
"It's not bullshit, Potter. And right now, it's not professional either." The man took another step closer. The distance between them was gradually decreasing. It made Harry nervous.
"Then why do you talk to me?" Harry looked up, observing the well-dressed man as he replied. The sun was shining on his blonde hair, giving it a golden gleam.
"Am I not allowed, perhaps?"
"Yes, but you're supposed to hate me," Harry continued stubbornly.
"I don't hate you, Potter." Malfoy whispered, his words barely audible above the soft wind. Harry's heart was beating against his chest. He knew Malfoy was probably joking around, still the words were very easy to believe.
"You don't?" Harry exclaimed, astonished.
"No." Harry remained silent, trying to process what Malfoy had just confessed. The response had affected him so much that he forgot to breathe for a moment. "Do you?" The blonde questioned.
"I don't think so."
"Great. What's bugging you?" Malfoy went straight to the point. Harry shrugged, hesitating to answer the question.
"Well actually, Ginny's moving on with her life, you see. And I'm just not moving. She and Dean are getting close, and all I have is my dumb project. She's so happy, and it's all my fault that she hasn't been this happy in a while. I feel such an idiot. A good-for-nothing."
"Potter. You should be happy that she's not holding you back. She's moving on, so are you. You worry too much. You'll find your perfect match, Potter. There's no doubt about that." Harry quirked an eyebrow at that last.
"What if Ginny was the one, and I let her slip away?"
"She's not the one for you, Potter. For Salazar's sake, you haven't experienced what it is to be loved, Potter. I can tell."This ruined Harry's mood. The last time he'd checked – or rather, a couple months ago – Ginny had been perfectly in love with him.
"Why are you so certain about it?" He grumbled. Harry had always feared that he wasn't loveable. Growing up with the Dursleys had made him realize some people didn't deserve love. He knew the Weasleys loved him with every piece of their heart, but that uncertainty never left. Especially not now that he was breaking up with Ginny.
"I can see it in your eyes," Malfoy whispered, taking another step closer. The tingling feeling in his stomach caused Harry to falter for a moment, just observing the way Malfoy's lips had formed those beautiful words, but then he fell back in his rant.
"Nobody loves me anymore, Malfoy. I have chased away all the good people in my life, including Ginny. The worst part is, they're all happy to be released from my grip. It's like they're trying to run as fast as they can!" Harry exclaimed.
"You're exaggerating, Potter. Shush," Malfoy whispered, his lips close to Harry's ear. Malfoy's hot breath tickled his ear, and sent a hot wave through his body. Their chests were only a few inches apart. An invisible magnet kept pulling Harry closer. His head turned a bit, facing Malfoy's pale face. Their eyes locked, slowly closing in on each other. Harry's eyes fluttered shut, but just when their lips were about to touch, he shot out of the trance, stepping away, alarmed.
"What were you trying to do, Malfoy!" Harry exclaimed. Malfoy opened his eyes, utterly confused. Soon after, anger appeared in his grey orbs, a malicious pull around his mouth.
"Why do you have to screw everything up, Potter! Just relax for a moment, you moron!" Harry's cheeks reddened, embarrassment washing over him. What had just happened? Had they been trying to kiss? What if he hadn't pulled away? Harry looked at the man who was supposed to be his therapist, still backing away.
"J-just leave me alone," Harry stammered, hot tears appearing in his eyes. He didn't know why he was feeling so emotional all of a sudden, but he tried to hide his face. Malfoy's expression softened, stepping closer to him again.
"Don't come nearer!" Harry shouted, trying to scare the blonde away. However, the man kept coming, until Harry was standing against the wall, with no way out. Malfoy put his hands on either side of the shorter man, a determined look in his eyes.
"Just relax," he whispered. The words fell on Harry's lips. He parted them, a hungry desire overcoming him. He'd never felt like that before. Pink lips touched his red ones, pressing softly. Harry just let it happen for a moment, enjoying the way their lips fit together. Malfoy's vanilla scent hung around him like a soft cloud, the taste of his lips entering his mouth.
Malfoy broke the small kiss, hesitating for a second, but Harry quickly leaned forward, capturing the hot lips again. Both men were immersed by one another, and Malfoy seemed to be everywhere. The kiss deepened, and Harry buried his fingers in the blonde strands of hair. He forgot about his whereabouts, he forgot about Ginny. The only thing that mattered at this very moment was Malfoy, and his soft lips. Harry eagerly kissed the man back, holding him close. Malfoy slipped his tongue past Harry's lips and asked for entrance. Harry swooned, exploring the blonde's mouth. Malfoy's soft tongue brushed past Harry's. Malfoy's slender fingers caressed Harry's lower back and pulled Harry's hips against his own. Harry moaned against the touch, his heartbeat sped up.
The entire moment felt surreal to Harry, their kiss was beyond anything he'd ever imagined. How was is possible to share something so intense with someone else? His body was aroused, his head was in the clouds. After what felt like an eternity, but very ephemeral at the same time, their lips parted. Harry opened his eyes and looked up. Blonde eyelashes fluttered open, revealing two brilliantly silver orbs. Both men remained like that for a while, reliving the moment. Harry had never felt more at ease. The comforting feeling spreading through his veins felt like a hot shower after a long day at work.
"Wh-?" Harry stammered, but he was cut off by a furious voice.
"Harry! What do you think you're doing?" Ronald Weasley was standing in the backyard, paralyzed. His ears were crimson, a murderous glance in his eyes.
"Er, … Ron. I- er," Harry closed his mouth, not really sure what to say. Why did Ron have to see them? He'd come here to make sure things would go back to normal with Ron.
"Man, Harry. What is this? Some sort of sick joke? Is that why you're seeing bloody Malfoy as a therapist. To snog the living hell out of him when nobody's paying attention?!" Ron screeched. Harry looked at the ground. He was afraid someone inside would hear Ron lose his cool and he wanted to die right this moment.
"No. It's the first time this happened, Ron. I can't help it," Harry whispered, his voice barely audible.
"I don't care how many times you did it! Is this why you left Ginny? To be with this piece of scum? To be a bloody faggot?!" Ron stepped closer, his blue eyes threatening.
"Ron. Please calm down. Ginny's doing great, she's happy."
"I know that. I saw you leaving, so I figured she made you feel uncomfortable. I still wanted to apologize for everything that's happened, but then I see this?" Ron's eyes begged for Harry to say he was dreaming. To say it was all a joke. But harry averted his eyes, looking at the grassed surface again.
"I'm sorry Ron. It's my decision. If I want to kiss Malfoy, then you'll have to live with it." Ron looked at Harry like he'd just been kicked in the face. He opened his mouth to say something else, changed his mind and stormed back inside the house. Harry looked up at Malfoy.
"I forgot to say that I wanted to make up to Ron." Harry looked desperate, feeling completely lost.
"I'd give him some time, Potter," Malfoy advised.
"Sure. I don't even know what happened myself so, …" Harry said, trailing off.
"We kissed," Malofy seemed very confident, while Harry felt like fainting any moment now. His legs were wobbly and his heart was still beating painfully fast.
"I know, but why?" Harry replied.
"Because I felt like kissing you," Malfoy shrugged. Harry looked up at the taller man, feeling confused with the way things had turned out.
"But you're a guy," Harry muttered, shaking his head.
"Seriously, Potter? How daft are you? You needed to kiss me to realize I'm a man?" Malfoy stepped back, creating a bit of space between them again.
"No!" Harry grumbled. "It's just. I've never kissed a guy before." He just shrugged, not knowing what else to do with his body.
"You've probably never kissed anyone except the Weaslette," Malfoy sniggered.
"That's not true! I kissed Cho once," Harry bit defensively. He shot the former Slytherin an annoyed glance, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"That makes a lot of difference," Malfoy replied sarcastically.
"Whatever. I bet you haven't kissed anyone except that retarded Higgs. Hold on a second, weren't you two together?"
"No. We broke up two weeks ago." Two weeks ago, Malfoy had been at his place, taking the shower, Harry remembered.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"You're not my therapist, are you?"
"No. You could have told me. I've told you tons of personal stuff and you can't even inform me when you're single." Harry didn't know why he was making such a big deal out of it. He just felt like ranting again.
"Do you like that I'm available, perhaps." An adventurous gleam clouded Malfoy's eyes, a smile splitting his face in two.
"No, I don't!" Harry blurted. He crossed his arms in front of his chest defensively, trying to create a bigger distance between them.
"You're difficult, Potter. I broke up with Terence because of you." The words were spoken very softly, not louder than a whisper.
"Me?" Harry whispered, taken aback.
"Yes, Potter. You. Remember the day I slept over? That evening, we broke up."
"For me?" Harry brought out, still astounded by Malfoys confession. "That's – I don't know."
"Whatever you say, Potter. I broke up because I want you." Harry's heart was pounding so loud he was afraid Malfoy might hear it. "I like you. A lot."
"Oh," Harry replied, facing the ground. Malfoy's eyes were so sincere and he would lose himself if he kept looking into them.
"That's all you've got to say? Oh?"
"I'm not good at this, Malfoy," Harry retorted, looking up again. Malfoy was gazing at him expectantly, and Harry faltered. "I – er, … I don't know what to say. I- can't believe this is happening. I'm not sure what to think right now."
"But you thought it was okay?"
"Stop forcing me into this, Malfoy. I can still hex you, even though you kissed the living hell out of me!" Harry snapped. He didn't want Malfoy to know he'd been swept off his feet by the simple gesture of his lips. His entire world had been turned upside down, but the only thing Harry could think about was kissing those lips again. But he couldn't tell the man that, could he?
"That sounds better," Malfoy grinned. He gave Harry a peck on his cheek and started to march to the Burrow again. "Are you coming? You've got a lot of explaining to do in there!" Harry frowned, still confused by the sudden change of their relationship.
"What makes you think that?" Harry caught up with the man and quirked an eyebrow questioningly.
"The Weasel," Malfoy replied.
"Stop calling my friends names, Malfoy."
"Or what?"
"I'll turn you into a pumpkin." Malfoy pulled a face, but Harry could see he was just faking for fun. Harry grinned, walking next to the man he'd hated for seven years. "I'm not sure what to think of you right now, Malfoy. I mean, we've hated each other for a long time, haven't we?"
"Hmm," Malfoy replied.
"And aren't you supposed to be my therapist?"
"I don't care what I'm supposed to be, Potter. I've wanted to kiss you for a very long time."
"Weird," Harry replied. At this, Malfoy pulled an eyebrow.
"I'm starting to think you don't really like kissing me, Potter. Was it that bad?"
"No, it's just- I'm not sure how to feel about all this."
"Give it some time," Malfoy replied, a soothing tone in his voice.
Harry looked up and smiled, the smile reaching his eyes. Who would have known that one simple kiss could change his state of mind so quickly? Harry kept smiling, unable to wash the content emotion off his face. Even though he was still very confused with the entire situation, he just gave in to his emotions, letting go of all his worries. Harry entered the Burrow, ready to face the world.
To be continued…
You know what to do!