x Bold Harry x

Hermoine went through a number of unfeasible plots to rid the doorstep of Blaise Zabini in increasingly bloody ways before she unstuck her mouth from the scowl it was set in.

"I'll get him. It could be a minute. He's still in his pajamas," she sighed, but it sounded more like a growl.

"You can wait out there." Ron said crankily, but when Hermoine grudgingly nudged his rib with her elbow he added "or..uh…in the living room, I guess."

Blaise looked past Ron to the living room—thick with old, comfortable couches, Crookshanks, and huge throw pillows that always smelt faintly of curry for some reason.

"I think I'll wait out here." Blaise said, his voice and face sour despite his good breeding.

Hermoine pulled Ron back mid-lunge, and slammed the door shut on Blaise.

"Ohhhh I hate that little rat bastard!" Ron snarled.

"Believe me, I don't like him any better—and I especially don't like him visiting Harry so often."

"You don't think Blaise is going to be Harry's rebound boy do you?" Ron asked, aghast.

"I hope not. At least Harry could keep Draco from misbehaving—with Blaise Harry can't even tell when he's misbehaving!"

"Let's not tell Harry he's here. Maybe the punk will give up if I set the twins on him."

"Set us on who?" the twins asked in unison, walking up to their room.

"Blaise Zabini's here to see Harry—again." Hermoine said.

"Ohhh, let's get him! Me 'n George have got this great exploding tea we've been dying to try out on a human subject."

"We've pretty much stopped it from shattering the tea cup—but there's always a chance."

"There's a boy I'd like to see with twenty chips of porcelain lodged in his face." Fred said fiendishly.

"Neither of you will do anything of the sort." Hermoine chided. "Although if you were to hit him with some of your water balloons while I was fetching Harry, there would be nothing I could do about it."

She left the room in search of Harry, and the three boys sprinted up to the twin's room to get the balloons.

"What'd happen if we filled the balloons with exploding tea?" Ron asked.

"Inquisitive mind—let's humor the boy, Fred. For educational purposes, of course."

"But of course."

X

Hermoine found Harry in the kitchen, staring out the window and swilling a glass of milk.

"Harry, Blaise is here to see you—again." Hermoine said.

"Oh, excellent!" exclaimed Harry, chugging the rest of his milk and putting his glass in the sink. Hermoine stopped him before he could leave the kitchen.

"Harry, wasn't Blaise just over here yesterday?"

"Huh? Oh, well, yeah—but that was just because he heard about me and Draco and he wanted to make sure I was doing okay."

"Because you're friends."

"Right."

"And he's over here today because…?"

"Well, his mom used to collect Muggle stuff, and she has a guitar, but she's cleaning out the basement and tossing everything, so Blaise is letting me hold onto the guitar to make sure it doesn't get chucked."

"…He's giving you a guitar?"

"No…er, well…I mean, I guess so…"

"And you don't find that…odd? A boy you've known for a week coming all the way over here to give you presents?"

"It's not a present! What are you trying to say, anyway?!" Harry asked angrily.

"Harry, I'm not accusing you of anyth—"

"Well it certainly sounds that way!"

"Harry!" the girl nearly shouted, cutting of the beginning of one of Harry's notorious temperamental tirades. "Calm down for one second and think about what this looks like!"

Harry looked taken aback, but did as he was told, with Hermoine's help: "He's always inviting you over to his place even though he knows Draco doesn't like it; he comes all this way the day after you and Draco break up instead of just writing you; then the next day he's over here bright and early to give you an expensive guitar, even though the first day of school is on Monday. What does that look like to you?"

"So now you're taking sides with Draco? For God's sake, Blaise is his friend! How could he think not only that his friend would betray him, but that I would too?!"

"Why do you think Blaise is his friend?"

"What?" Harry stopped short in his temper tantrum.

"Draco's never said anything to me about being friends with Blaise. The only thing he's ever told me about Zabini at all was that he was always trying to pressure Draco for sex before he got together with you."

"WHAT?! When did you guys talk about this?"

"During a Quidditch match. I asked if it was weird now that the whole school knew about you and him, and he said that he liked it because Blaise had stopped pestering him for sex."

"Since when do you sit in the Slytherin section?" Harry asked, mind spinning. Blaise had never mentioned anything about that. He had always just said that he and Draco had been very good friends growing up, but Draco never spent any time with the Slytherins anymore—that Draco was the kind of person who could do that: cut you out and never think about you again.

"I don't sit with Slytherins. Draco came and sat with us—during the Hufflepuff match."

"I asked him if he was going to that match and he said that he had extra credit to do with Snape!"

"Oh, please, Harry—as if Snape gives out extra credit!"

"Ugh, even when it's about something as stupid as that he lies to me!" Harry growled.

"Don't be so melodramatic. So he didn't want you to know that he rooted for you—that's his right. You really did tease him dreadfully over Quidditch."

"What do you mean?"

"You were always asking him if he was going to be a good little girlfriend and cheer for you!"

"I was only joking!"

"Well you never stuck around long enough to see him blush scarlet afterwards, or hear everyone picking at him. He polyjuiced himself into Tony Churpin to see that game!"

"I…well…no one ever told me." Harry grumbled. "And since when have you and Draco been such bosom buddies?"

"Don't you take that tone with me, Harry James Potter! Draco and I happen to be very close, and he's been writing me the same as you to say what a brute you've been to him!"

"Oh please!"

"I know, and he knows, too, that he hasn't been very nice to you—but telling his father to shut up?! In his own house?!"

"He deserved it! He's a meddler!"

"Well if I saw someone treating my son like that I'd meddle, too!" Hermoine shouted, but was cut off from continuing by a harsh knock on the back door.

"Harry—tell the twins to stop throwing things at me! Are you dressed yet?" Blaise called through the door.

"Why is he asking if I'm dressed?"

"I told him you were still in your pj's to buy some time." Hermoine sighed.

"Hermoine!"

"Oh get out of here. But keep in mind that I've always done my best to give you good advice, Harry. I'd never tell you that Blaise is a conniving little brat who wants in your SexyPants if I didn't think it was true."

"Thanks," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes before heading out to save Blaise from the twins.

X dramatic pause X

Harry was trying to be a good host and listen to Blaise complaining about the cleaning binge his mother was on right now. Apparently she had decided to marry the Spell-O-Tape man, and was going to move to Morocco with him. She was enlisting both Blaise and the sole house-elf to help overhaul the house of everything "unnecessary," which seemed to include everything in the basement and half the house.

Harry tried to be interested in this.

But he couldn't.

So I was rude to his father once. His father was rude to me the whole time!

But that was pretty disrespectful. And hypocritical, too, seeing as how I drove Draco to wet dreams because I didn't want to disrespect Lucius by having sex in the Manor.

Although Harry was now able to think of Draco, he was incapable of being miserable.

He tried to focus on the dull ache of his missing love, but there was no dull ache. He felt happy to be with his friends. He felt happy that he would be at Hogwarts again soon.

But he did miss the blonde. How could you miss someone you were so angry at? And Harry was still angry. Just because he couldn't come up with a proper scowl didn't mean he wasn't mad.

It was just that…compared to two years ago, what Draco said wasn't that bad.

In fact, Harry couldn't help but feel that Draco's final monologue was pretty factual. Harry didn't understand why Draco went along with everything his father said, and that very well could be because Harry had never really had a father to be that loyal to. Harry did have a saving-people-thing, and 5th year had proven that, and part of Blaise's charm was that he was so vulnerable; and Harry didn't know anything about being an aristocrat. He didn't need Draco to tell him any of that.

And frankly, when you compared that to the Draco of old, wishing that Harry had died along with his parents, talking about his Mudblood mother, saying that Cedric had gotten what he deserved, well…their fight could have been a lot worse.

Harry knew Draco—Draco had wanted to hurt him because he felt hurt. Draco's anger was a thing of retribution and revenge. In Draco's mind Harry had cheated on him, and he was going to make Harry pay.

But how could Draco ever think he would cheat on him?

Here his anger bubbled up—this was what made him angry. After all he had been through with Draco, after all they had overcome, after how many times Harry told him he loved him and would always be there for him and fucking proposed to him—Draco thought he was the kind of person who would betray all of that and cheat on him with his friend!

Harry grit his teeth and shoved his fists into his pants pockets.

What was that?"

He pulled Draco's smooth white paper out of his pocket—it had been folded like a crane. He couldn't help but smile, and unfolded it without even having to overcome an urge to rip it to shreds.

When had Draco slipped this into his pocket? It must have been a while ago—he hadn't worn these pants in days.

Dearest, darlingest Sex Machine,

I'm watching you sleep right now, and you know what that does to me. I'm going to put this in writing so you know it's true: I'm not biased, you are absolutely gorgeous. I have to write this letter to keep my fingers busy or else they'd wake you by playing with that mop of black hair of yours. Don't cut it all off like you've been saying—I'd be bereft without it.

I feel, lately, like I've been having memory lapses—I'm always forgetting how much you mean to mean, and how good you are, and how I would do anything for you. Please show me this letter whenever you feel I'm being forgetful, I feel as if it would be the solution to all our problems.

You are everything to me. I love my family, but I consider you part of my family. I'm so glad you're marrying me so that we will be officially inseparable, but I've felt inseparable from you ever since September—maybe even before that. It's so hard to pinpoint the exact moment that you became an integral part of me, and as key to my continued survival as my lungs. Or maybe you think that's going too far. As important to me as my wand arm, maybe? Well, pick a body part that doesn't make you uncomfortable, and you're as integral to me as that.

I love you, I love you, I'll always love you,

Yours ever,

Draco Potter

(I'm not being coy,

I get chills every time I think this name in my head

—which has been frequently—

and I can't wait for the first person to address me as such)

"Harry—Harry are you paying attention to me?" Blaise cried petulantly.

Harry looked the letter over again before answering. He had forgotten how gorgeous Draco's handwriting was—nothing like his, or anything else he had seen on a seventeen year old boy.

"Did you use to have a thing for Draco?" Harry questioned, and Blaise looked shocked.

"Wh—what?"

"You did, didn't you? He never told me about it, I think because he knew I'm territorial enough to physically hurt you over it, but he mentioned it to Hermoine."

"Well…yes, when we were young I was very attached to him. But he happily broke me of that. I won't say that I was happy about him rejecting me at the time, but seeing his behavior to you and to his other friends, I'm quite glad of it now." Blaise said rather nervously.

"I was just thinking…well, this must be a great joy to you—instead of being with him at the Manor, here I am taking a long walk with you."

"Being with you always makes me happy, Harry." Blaise said, touching his arm softly, but Harry quickly extricated his limb. He wouldn't have noticed it earlier, but with Hermoine's warning ringing in his ears, the touch felt too personal, the look in Blaise's eyes too intense for friendship.

"I think you should take the guitar back." Harry murmured.

"Harry—it's a gift!"

"That's the thing—I don't think you should be giving me gifts like that."

"I'm sorry. I'm only trying to be your friend."

"I don't mind you being my friend, Blaise, but not even my best friends get as friendly as you."

"I guess I'm not very good at it. Draco's been my only friend since I was young. I'm sorry." Blaise said softly, and Harry thought there was something calculated in his demure glance away and the vulnerable set of his shoulders.

"What about the other Slytherins?"

"Oh, you know what they're like."

"Blaise—you're a Slytherin. You're like what they're like."

"Harry! I'm not like them—like Parkinson and Montegue and the rest! You've been hanging out with me for hours for over a week now! Surely you know what I'm like!"

"That's the thing. I thought I did. But I hear from Draco, and I hear from Hermoine, and everyone seems to think something new of you and your character—so how do I explain that? Either they're lying or you're a damn good actor."

Harry thought he saw a flash of something terrible in Blaise's eyes, but it was gone too quickly to tell.

"Well—which do you think it is, Harry? Do you think I just go around pretending to be who I am for every new acquaintance, or do you think Hermoine and Draco stand something to gain by making you think I'm the demonic offspring of Salazar himself?"

"Nobody's saying that."

"I know that Hermoine prefers Draco—they're both overachievers, they stick together. I know that Draco's jealous of you being happy when you're with me and miserable when you're with him. Don't you see? He wants you to hate me as much as you hate him! He doesn't want us to be happy!"

"I don't hate Draco!" Harry snarled.

"What? Oh, I didn't mean—"

"Don't backpedal now! You were just starting to be clear! You think that Draco is jealous of you spending time with me? I spend every night with him! You think he's mad at you for making me happy—he makes me happier in a day than you could in a lifetime!"

"Harry! Are you out of your head?! He accused you of cheating!"

"And why not? He knew your character better than I did—he had every right to be nervous over me spending so much time with you! Let's face it, I'm not the best at knowing when someone's trying to get into my pants. Draco wasn't accusing me of being vile enough to sleep with you, he was accusing me of being stupid enough to fall for your act, and his accusations were perfectly founded!"

"You're insane! Are you really going to forget everything he did to you this past week?" Blaise snarled, eyes flashing.

"Oh you sinister, backbiting git! I forgot five years of him doing a lot worse—do you really think I'm going to throw away a lifetime of happiness with him over a week of Slytherin-inspired difficulties?!" Harry shouted, turning back to the house. He was stopped by a small but painful hand on his arm.

"Don't you dare!" a low, wild voice snarled at him. "Don't you dare go running back to him and make this whole thing fall down on my half!"

Harry turned to the brunette slowly, looking at those crazed, demonic eyes and white teeth exposed in a dog's snarl.

"I'm going to make this thing fall down on both your heads," he said softly, and shoved Blaise back hard enough to topple the boy over before Apparating.

x Bold Draco x

Ugh, it was only ten in the morning and he already felt exhausted.

He slumped back in his chair as his father droned on about Important Family Business. The man was smart enough not to expend useless words trying in vain to get Draco to sit up straight. By the looks of it, Lucius was lucky enough that Draco had even gotten out of bed without Lucius trying to get him to sit appropriately on top of that.

Lucius wasn't feeling much better. That had marked night three sleeping in the guest room, and he was sure it was haunted by something scary. He hadn't slept hardly two winks strung together the whole night due to chain rattling and hot breaths wheezing over his hair. Simply terrifying. He was definitely not sleeping there again.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, your picture's in the paper. From that ball. Front page! It's yesterday's Prophet, but I just haven't had time lately to keep up with the press." Lucius handed it over, hoping to inspire some kind of emotion in the boy, but his son only extended his limp hand and took the paper slowly, glancing at his photo.

"Why'd you cut Harry out?"

"I—well…I thought you wouldn't want to…" Lucius wasn't sure what he was trying to say, so he stopped while he was ahead.

Draco watched himself pout on the cover next to a missing rectangle. He looked lonely without his photo-mate. He thought this photo was the single most depressing thing he had seen in the last two days.

His father continued talking on about the ball, and Draco continued to tune him out.

He couldn't help but admit it: he missed Harry. Desperately. Every other moment he tortured himself by imagining what Harry was doing at that precise point in time. Was he just over the hill at Blaise's house? Was he throwing himself into danger with the Order? Was he sipping hot chocolate with Ron and Hermoine, glad to be rid of his evil fiancé?

Draco glanced back at the paper, at himself all spruced up and miserable. He hazarded a weak smile, thinking that he did look Emo, just as Harry had playfully accused.

To think that this whole fight had started over a ball. Or had it? It felt like it—a ball and everything that came with it: Harry being too plebian, and Draco being too demanding. Draco showing off his new pet.

Oh, but that wasn't what he was doing! Sure he wanted people to see him and Harry together, but not to prove that he had trained Harry to be a well-behaved little boyfriend!

He had received a slew of hate mail after their relationship was made public. Harry had helped burn it all and they had cuddled up in front of the fire watching them catch fire—Howlers and all. Harry hadn't known that he'd kept one of the letters.

I just feel sorry fer poor Harry. Margaret Linton had written. How kud You do this to him wen he's all ready been thru So Mutch? Im shur Harry dusn't no what he's doing. Im shur Your going to make him Verry Unhappy.

He wanted to prove women like that wrong with every ball—with every photo proving just how happy with him Harry was. The problem was that by forcing Harry to take photos showing how happy he was, he made Harry Verry Unhappy. It was such an unfair catch-22.

He wouldn't pretend like he didn't enjoy balls for his own pleasure, too. He certainly didn't want to have to give them up for the rest of his life just because Harry didn't always enjoy them. Oh, but even now the thought of a ball did nothing for him. How could he enjoy himself at a ball at a time like this—so bereft for his lover?

Africa felt much the same. Sure he had wanted to go, and that would mean leaving Harry for a while, but he had always had this divine picture of his homecoming—Harry running to greet him at the Portkey in full Auror regalia, sweeping up his desert-tanned body and exploring every inch of him for changes from when they'd last seen each other. Without this homecoming fantasy, Africa held very little to interest him. Sure he'd see lions and giraffes—but who would he write to? Who would be waiting for him in England, exalting over every new letter and writing him back diligently?

No, it just wasn't the same without Harry. Nothing was the same.

In this small lull in his racing thoughts, Draco's body suddenly tensed.

Draco sat up in confusion—why was his body doing this? Had he missed something? He tuned back into his father's conversation, trying to figure it out.

"I'm sorry, what did you just say?" Draco asked, trying to pull his fingers out of their death grip on the chair.

"Draco—pay attention! Now, where was I, oh, yes—so I was thinking perhaps June or July, after your birthday. Get this whole thing done with."

"I'm sorry—I'm really going to have to ask you to go back a few sentences. Just rewind."

"Rewind? What does that mean?"

"It's a Muggle phrase, it means go back a little bit and repeat what you just said."

"I do not approve of you using Muggle phrases! What's gotten into you?"

"I don't know—go back a bit and maybe I'll figure it out."

"The part about Parkinson?"

"What about Parkinson?"

"Ugh—I was saying that I talked to her father, and you two are engaged again, now that that whole Potter thing is over with."

"WHAT?!" Draco screamed, jumping up.

"Draco! Sit back down! What's gotten into you?!"

"Why did you engage me to Parkinson again?!"

"Well, why not, since you and Potter are broken up? Best to get everything back on track again, back to how it used to be."

Lucius was too sleep deprived to see the fire ignite Draco's icy eyes, but he did hear it in the boy's voice when he said: "We. Are. Not. Broken. Up."

"Excuse me?"

"Harry and I are not broken up! Don't you dare say that we are!"

"Well I may be behind the times, but in our day when you and your lover got in a blowout fight and said lover disappeared for days without a word being heard from him—that meant you were broken up!"

"We're just…taking…a break." Draco said tersely.

"An indefinite hiatus! Also known as a break up!"

"Shut up! Silencio!"

Lucius' eyes got as wide as dinner plates as his mouth worked flagrant cursing, but nothing came out. He went for his wand.

"Expelliarmus!" Draco cried, and added, when Lucius lunged across the desk at him, "Levicorpus!"

Lucius had one shocked moment before he was dragged into the air by his ankle, holding his robes down as best he could, but still showing an awful lot of pale leg.

"Maybe now you'll listen," Draco said, his voice soft with anger. "Harry and I are not broken up. Harry promised me that he would always be here for me. Harry would never break up with me—he loves me and he's going to marry me—see?!" Draco dragged his ring out from under his shirt and shoved it close to his father's reddening face. "He knew that I had an evil father and a vengeful mother and fifty generations of Dark wizards, and he asked me to marry him anyways—right in this room! You think he's not right for me because he's mouthy and not especially well bred—but I think it's you who's not right for me, because I had a great boyfriend who worshiped the ground I walked on and friggen adored me and you broke us up!"

Draco hadn't expected that to come out of his mouth, but he knew as soon as he said it that it was true.

"You broke us up! You forced me back into my old Malfoy mold on purpose because you knew Harry hated it! You let me go to that ball just because you knew Harry wouldn't want to! You've been a prick to him this whole time because you knew it would wear him down enough to leave me! You little shit!" Draco shouted, and, in an act of physical violence heretofore unheard of from the usually verbal battler, he shook his father hard by the lapels.

"When we have kids I'm going to have them refer to you as Gramps McEvilFace, you bastard!" Draco screamed as he left the complex at a run.

"Draco—where are you going?" Narcissa called from the garden.

"Dad's an evil prick and I'm going get Harry back!"

"Okay, well, owl me if you're not going to be back in time for dinner."

Once her son was safely away from the incoming carnage, Narcissa calmly put her gardening tools away and walked slowly to her husband's study, closing the door firmly behind her and spelling it locked.

Lucius stopped struggling to pull himself down by the desk edge, and stared at her with terrified, wide eyes.

"Let's have some fun," she said in a sinisterly soft voice, and ran her fingers lovingly over her wand.

Lucius' face managed to blanche despite all the blood rushing to his head.

i totally just learned how to use that thing.

XXXXXX

A/N: Comeuppance coming right up—next weekend at the latest. I'm trying really hard to get this sucker done with so you'll all stop threatening to murder me!

Hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did!