Disclaimer: Miss Rowling owns all the pretty rights to the Harry Potter characters.
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I did not mean to be evil and keep you hanging/waiting! You were probably thinking, 'silly (your choice of expletive!) hasn't updated yet!' Lol
But here I am – better late than never me hopes. I don't know where the time goes though honestly! Also I am sorry for any possible water shed whilst reading through the previous chapters! You know it was not intentional. * grin *
I'm sorry if the formatting seems off sometimes… I tried but (sigh)
I hope you don't find these two chapters too boring to read. I just can't help myself. I type way too much, I sort of talk my through it all... :o/
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Without further ado - Chapter EighteenHarry heard the door snap shut behind him and stood frozen to the spot for a minute. He felt numb and completely and utterly stunned.
'YOU CAN'T BE THAT BLOODY DENSE! YOU THINK THAT YOUR'E SO FUCKING GREAT, THAT YOU CAN'T COMPREHEND HOW I CANNOT WANT TO BE WITH YOU?! I DON'T CARE OK? DO YOU HEAR ME?'
His thoughts were swirling dizzily in his head and he could not believe it. His heart would not let him. Draco did not care for him? It had all been an act? Draco hadn't been honest?
They had not really said much to each other to dwell on honesty and whatnot but Harry's simple, yet provocative words, had prompted the undoing to the whole charade.
'At least then I'd know that you're being honest,' he had said.
But he had not expected that kind of honesty. Though how terribly naïve of him to expect anything else.
'It wasn't what you thought it was,' Draco had explained, sounding extremely bored and offhand.
And what had Harry thought it was? A relationship?
Yes.
Stupid him. How quaint of him to think such a thing. How droll.
And why had this travesty been pursued?
Because, ' you kissed me and it pissed me off that you dared to, so I found you and the rest followed…'
Because Draco wanted to see how far he could get with Harry.
Because,' you don't have parents, so you have the need to take away other people's.'
Because of a multitude of reasons, none of them because Draco felt the same way about Harry as Harry did for him.
Funny thing, Draco could have got a lot further with Harry had he wanted to. Harry had given him ample opportunity, but Draco had not taken it. He was probably repulsed at the thought of having any more close encounters with him, Harry thought bitterly. He felt the heat of embarrassment burn his face and could almost taste his mortification. Insecurity was rearing its ugly head and he could not help but be consumed with self-doubt.
'This is all about YOU.'
He looked at the closed door and imagined Draco on the other side of it, mopping his brow- thankful that he had got rid of Harry. He was probably going to Scourgify himself now wasn't he?
A sudden thought struck him. This is what Draco had wanted to say to him last night. He had started to say something and then stuttered and came out with,' I can't stay for long tonight,' crap. Why hadn't he said it at that point? What had made him change his mind?
Harry could guess the reason why. Draco thought that he would dangle Harry on for another night and have a little more fun with his stupid ignorance. He thought he'd have a quick grope and a kiss today and then dump Harry spectacularly straight afterwards. He could not begin to fathom Draco's behaviour at all. He tried to grapple with the realisation of what had just happened. Had Draco ever enjoyed their time together? Harry winced. What if Draco always wiped his lips clean once Harry was out of sight? What if he rinsed out his mouth to rid himself of Harry's taste after they parted? His breath hitched at such a crushing thought.
He'd been dumped like yesterdays rubbish.
Harry's mind drifted back to when Draco had first walked into the room. The way he had kissed him, with so much emotion and hunger – it had seemed. He had been in awe of how Draco had held him, and so amazed and thankful. Yet mere moments later, Draco had ripped it away from him. The passionate undercurrents Harry had felt from Draco were not remotely akin to what he had thought they were. Not even close.
Harry began to walk in a daze down the corridor, Draco's words continuing to echo in his mind.
'Everything is so bloody easy for you. The centre of the universe always has to be you! Oh look at the silent hero who holds the weight of the world on his shoulders. And you love it, you bask in your arrogance.'
He reached the staircase and grasped the banister so tightly that his knuckles and fingers hurt. He took a deep breath and pushed himself upwards.
' I don't want to be Harry Potter's boyfriend! Because you're Harry fucking Potter that's why. I'd be ashamed to tell my father about you. My being with you is nothing to be proud of at all. You are always the victim in everything. You feel so superior cos you keep getting lucky. You're so self-centred it's unbelievable. Your little hero complex doesn't allow for it.'
Draco abhorred him. He had been thinking all these things all along and Harry had been so oblivious. He had thought that Draco was as happy as he was. And he never had been, he hadn't even had the intention or inclination of being happy with Harry. He loathed him and to avenge his father he had made Harry fall for him and then chuck him away so he could brag about it to his fellow housemates.
Harry stopped abruptly; his legs were quaking. He had this terrible urge to be horribly and violently sick. So sick that he would feel so damn awful, that he would not be able to think of anything else but the burning acrid sensation of bile pouring out of his mouth. That had to be a whole lot better compared to the dark abyss that had begun to engulf his body and mind.
He unstuck his feet and began to automatically climb the stairs towards the Gryffindor tower. He was confronted with the Fat Lady sooner than expected and mumbled the password. She swung open and he crawled through the hole and spilled into the large room.
He quickly dodged his way through it and slipped up the stairs before anyone noticed him. Successfully managing to reach his room without being seen, he sat on his bed.
He was alone.
His mind was now blank and he just sat there for many minutes, just sitting. Looking at nothing ahead of him and still sitting.
The room was very quiet; in stark contrast to the noise downstairs. But that was fine. Hearing any more words right now would probably start to bleed his ears out. Hopefully. Then he could concentrate on the blood pouring out of his ears rather than the pain that was slowly shedding through his body.
This wasn't actually happening was it? This was some horrible nightmare of his…
Everything had a strange dreamlike quality to it as if he wasn't really here, and it was all blurry and misty and weird. Perhaps Draco hadn't really said all those things and Harry would wake up now and joke about it with him later on when they saw one another. But it would be a really bad joke.
He suddenly laughed out loud, the sound of it shattering the silence in the room. No this was real all right. It had happened. Why pretend?
Draco didn't care and Harry should never have expected him to. He felt like his favourite gift in the whole world had been crushed into smithereens right in front of him. And all Harry had been able to do was to watch helplessly, devastated at his loss. Not that the gift had been 'real' or anything.
Silly him.
He felt misery gush over him. He felt so humiliated and ashamed. Ashamed of how he had been with Draco; ashamed on how open he had been with him. Ashamed of how he had so readily believed that Draco's kisses were genuine and his phoney words were something that he had cherished. Ashamed of letting his heart down so badly. Ashamed of feeling so excited and happy and so naïve. Ashamed of feeling anything other than hate for the blond haired boy. Ashamed of falling…
Ashamed and humiliated. And so awful. He felt so gut-wrenchingly awful. He had lost Draco….
He lay on his bed and curled up on the blankets. His knees drawn high near his face and his head missing the pillow by inches - not bothering for comfort. Not that there was much comfort in this world. A lot of pain and so little comfort. How he had the gall to be happy over the last few weeks, escaped him entirely now. Nothing good happened. And nothing good remained. Hadn't he learnt that by now? That's the way life goes – especially his life. He thought he had the right to be a hardened cynic because hadn't life proved it over and over to him? He didn't know what it was like to be anyone else – how could he? When just being him everyday took up all his time. But being someone else would be terrific because they wouldn't have his life. His shitty, crappy life.
He reached out and loosened his hangings around the bed. He made sure not a gap was peeking through the curtains and then curled back up, with his eyes shut tight. A few minutes later he heard movement in the room.
'Harry?'
Harry turned his head briefly and saw Ron's shadow through the material.
'Where were you?'
Harry returned his head back on the mattress and stayed silent for a moment. He might as well lie again, after all the last few weeks had been nothing but lies.
'Professor Snape.'
'Uggghh. Oh well. Dinners up, come on.'
'I'm not going Ron.'
Ron must have pulled back the curtains, as his voice was inches away from his ear.
' What? Why not? Are you feeling ok? Did you have a bad lesson?' he sounded concerned.
Harry smothered a sigh and turned his face around again. He attempted a broken smile,' uh no it was fine. I just feel a bit er..tired.'
Ron was looking at him closely.
'I'm just going to try and have an early night I think.'
Ron nodded, he was accustomed to Harry's ''early nights''.
'Do you want me to bring you up anything?'
Harry shook his head,' no really I'm fine. You go on down, I'm ok.'
Ron did not move away,' you look a bit funny. Are you going to throw up or something? You sure you….'
'Ron….' Harry cut him off. 'I'm ok. I feel a bit …off that's all. I don't need to go to Pomfrey, you don't need to go and call Mcgonagall and I don't need to see Dumbledore. I'm fine.'
'Ok, ok,' Ron sounded hurt and annoyed.' Just asking, fine then.'
And with that he let the curtains fall back into place and walked away.
Harry watched as his faint shadow disappeared out of range and then turned his face back to its original position.
Life was shit. Life is shit, everything was shit.
How had he dared to believe that Draco would be able to get over their enmity? How had he dared to get over their enmity? He felt a sickening swoop of anger burn his insides. How could he have been so appallingly stupid? There was no better word for it.
Why had he even dared to try and have a relationship? As if that would actually work out for him.
He knew he was wallowing, and feeling profoundly sorry for himself – but he felt that he had good reason to. After all it wasn't everyday you got dumped by your fake non-boyfriend.
He felt his heart grow heavy, as he lay there balled up miserably. How many times had he voiced his roundabout desire to become more intimate with Draco? Too many times for him to be able to retain a shred of dignity now.
'How come you've never…you know…ever tried to so stuff?'
'Is it because you don't want to?'
'Of course I want to. I can't wait... I want to take it slow.'
Harry had believed him so implicitly in all that he had said. But Draco had not wanted to take it slow. He had not wanted to take it anywhere. He was just saying that and Harry had believed him…
But he'd sounded so sincere and Harry's heart had jumped for joy at the thought that Draco cared for him.
Stupid, he thought his heart now aching.
He had forgiven Draco so easily for avoiding him on Monday, even though he had suspected something was not right. But Draco had quelled his uncertainty by kisses and no more was said. Draco had been playing with him for all that time. He had probably thought it hysterical that Harry had been sitting on the stairs waiting for him that morning. Harry could remember many an occasion when he'd heard Draco and his cronies twittering about some comment they had made about Harry. When Draco uncovered Harry's little idiosyncrasies – they would twitter till their heads fell off.
Later that day when he'd had a particularly bad Occlumency lesson, he had felt so shit but Draco had perked him right up.
Stupid.
' I like the taste of your mouth,' Harry recalled saying.
He winced painfully. Those words had actually come out of his mouth.
Tuesday night Draco had said, 'I've managed to have the self-discipline of a monk I might add, not to rip off your clothes and take you on the floor every time I see you.'
'Liking yourself to a monk now are we?' Harry had asked.
'Mmm.'
'You could you know.'
'I know.'
Draco had known and Harry had trusted him with no reservations at all. He had just said it and not been embarrassed at all.
Stupid. You trusted him. Stupid.
Draco.
' I knew you were easy Potter.'
'Only for you.'
' Promise?'
' Always.'
Always……… Harry bit his lips in tightly and screwed his eyes up against the hurt that was hammering away at him unrelentingly.
So perfect he had thought only a few nights ago. Everything was perfect and he had captured the moment in his heart. Ignorance is certainly bliss. It hadn't been perfect at all. He felt empty as every happy memory with Draco dissipated.
How had he been so convincing? Or had Harry wanted to believe in him so badly, that he had not doubted Draco's motives? He was that pathetic and needy? He could never have imagined that he could have been so blind.
Hermione had said it spot on that day in the library.
' It's just not right for you to be smiling so much.'
She'd been right, he had absolutely no right to be smiling at all – he just hadn't known it then.
Draco had probably been waiting for an opportunity all year to get his own back on Harry and Harry had proffered him a perfect window to climb in. He was sure Draco had not expected such an opening to present itself in the way that it had, but funnily enough a situation like that (if played right) would hurt much more than a few hexes and insults. And Draco had done it marvellously well. Harry was about as hurt as he could get. It hurt so much that he felt unable to do anything else but lie in his bed and carry on hurting.
'It just doesn't amuse me so much anymore and I got what I wanted…I never cared at all. And it would be foolish for you to think otherwise.'
Yes he was foolish. So foolish. Draco had got what he wanted. And what was that exactly? Having Harry trust him? And what was he going to do with that knowledge? Not much other than to have a great old laugh at his expense. It was all out of pure spite and vengeance and Harry felt about a millimetre tall.
What had Draco's words been at the end of the fifth year? ' I'm going to make you pay for what you've done to my father… You think you're such a big man, Potter. You wait. I'll have you.'
And he had had him, right where he had wanted him. He had waited and waited and then proceeded to lop off Harry in one clean strike.
'It's over Harry.'
It was so pointless and seemed so cruel. Harry could not imagine that someone would go to such lengths to get revenge. He was naïve, even after everything.
Had Draco thought his father would get a kick out of getting a rise from a Potter in such a way? No, Harry couldn't see that happening. This had all been for Draco's amusement and nothing more. It had been for Draco's own satisfaction and one-upmanship.
Of course this was assuming that Draco was not planning to break his father out of jail and hand Harry over to him. But no, again Harry was forced to face the fact that he had been an inside joke for Draco and nothing else. It had been formulated so that Harry could feel shit about himself. That was a very Slytherin thing to do. Make others feel crap about themselves.
Well Draco had succeeded.
Harry should have just accepted his fate and kept his mind on studying and surviving his school year. He might as well face it once and for all; his whole life would be about Voldemort from beginning to end. Forget about attempting to have any kind of 'normal' teenage life. Forget about caring about someone and have them care about you back. Forget about relationships and kisses and tenderness. What a ridiculous thought to have; what a laughable scenario, what an incredible notion. To have someone actually care for him in that way had to be some kind of miracle. This was life's way of telling him not to bother with such things. Accept your fate and live with it. But could he harden himself to not want anyone else to care about him ever again? Now that he'd had the (fake) taste of being cared for. It had felt lovely to be (fake) wanted.
But who would want him anyway? He thought dejectedly. He was probably the most unlovable person he knew. He wasn't clever; he wasn't good-looking. He was just this guy who got into life threatening situations and managed to make his way out alive somehow…whilst getting others killed.
His mind went back to how Draco and him had 'started' and his head began to spin again. No, there was no point on dwelling on how and why it had started. It had started and now it had finished. That part of it anyway…
He wondered if Draco would pin that picture Harry had sent him on the Slytherin notice board. That would cause a snort or two, if not many.
Harry had admitted he was a virgin. That would go down very well in the Slytherin common room.
He'd seen Harry naked.
And everything Harry had said to him would be subject to ridicule no doubt.
Oh my god……..
Strangest thing, the first day they had kissed; Harry had sat at dinner thinking, what if it had all been some kind of practical joke? A trick of some kind? Perhaps Draco had been so bored that he would see how far he could get with Harry.
He had been accurate in his thoughts and should have gone with his gut instinct, but no he hadn't. He had preferred to bask in this mortifying and shaming experience instead.
Everything that Harry had thought they had shared together had been tainted now. Every memory was flashing with a huge question mark sign. It had felt so real, yet none of it had been.
And he wouldn't go through their fake relationship with a comb and try to salvage the times when Draco's affection might have been real. He would not torture himself further.
His stomach suddenly gurgled. Why did stomachs gurgle at the most inappropriate times? He was depressed, he didn't want to eat. He deliberately ignored its plea for food. He was NOT going to step foot out of his room, let alone go to the Great Hall tonight.
He could not bear it.
*
He had probably been lying there on his bed for at least two hours if not more. By the sound of the heavy muffled thuds, he could tell it was Neville. What would Harry's life have been like had Voldemort chosen Neville? Like it mattered. He'd still be a sorry character undoubtedly.
Soon after Neville, there were more footsteps in the room and voices.
Seamus and Dean.
They had begun to talk about the Hogsmeade trip tomorrow.
'Harry?' came Neville's hushed voice from nearby.
Harry lay even more still, pretending to be asleep.
'Ron said he isn't feeling well,' Dean whispered.
More footsteps. Ron.
Harry tried to blank out their voices.
He could hear Ron shuffling by the side of the curtains. He was probably getting undressed.
'Harry? You asleep?'
Harry didn't reply.
More talk, footsteps, and then silence followed. They seemed to have gone back down. It was Friday night after all.
Harry eventually fell asleep still fully dressed and not caring.