Chapter 3: Holding It All Together
Warning: M/M
Disclaimer: I don't own it : )
He failed, which really wasn't a surprise to him seeing as it was concordant with his behavior recently. He also didn't own an answering machine so Ron hadn't left a message; the phone merely beeped reminding him that he was too late to answer the call, no matter who it may have been.
He picked up the receiver in one hand while removing his winter coat and throwing it to the floor with customary organizational skills.
He dialed the numbers by heart, knowing the reason for the call and also hoping Ron and Hermione would forget the previous tiff they had and remembering that Harry classified in the category of a 'Friend in (desperate) need.'
The dial tone sounded three times before...
"Hullo?" Came the deep, mature voice of his long-time friend Ron Weasley.
"It's Harry," were the simple words spoken into the phone.
"Oh." He could've sworn Ron sounded a bit disappointed. "Well Hermione and I will meet you at Draco's café to discuss this months nit-picks. Unless you just want us to come over to your place..."
Ron trailed off, and Harry knew that Ron did not want to even risk the chance of encountering his nemesis (had they been categorized into roles). Draco and Ron had been at each other even the first time they had met (through Harry) and have never given up on their rivalry since.
"My place is O.k." Harry spoke calmly yet was secretly dreading what would follow, and could now almost hear the scolding remarks coming from Hermione.
"Harry you need to get your life into a rhythm...Get a girlfriend, a job, anything to hold yourself together"
The phone was hung up with a smart click, and Harry was left fifteen minutes for him to worry over the situation at hand. Would Ron and Hermione reject him, leaving him to his own devices this month or lend him a helping hand.
Once again.
He sighed, rubbing his face with his still gloved hands, knocking his glasses askew and flopped down in the nearest armchair, waiting for his friends to arrive. He glared as he stared and picked at the tears in his gloves, suddenly pulling them off and throwing them fiercely on top of his jacket.
"Fucking gloves..." He muttered.
They were old gloves that barely fit anymore, littered with rips and holes, yet Harry held on to them. Sure he could always go to the store and buy a $2.50 pair of gloves, he at least had that much spare change.
But these gloves were a gift given to him when he was 16 years old, from his godfather Sirius. It hurt to think back on it, his weary face full of stubble grinning at him as Harry opened his Christmas presents.
"This winter is rumored to be the coldest yet Harry!" His toothy smile was a little frightening, his teeth yellowing, cheekbones hollow with age.
"Thanks Sirius." Harry said weakly, looking at the gloves with disappointment.
It was only a year later that Sirius had passed away; prison had sucked the life right out of him, as well as the will to continue on.
Sirius was the only living relative Harry had left that last Christmas day spent at the Weasley's. It was agonizing to know that at a mere 16 years old Harry was the only one left.
He delicately picked them up from the floor, bending his back over as far as he could without straining the sensitive muscles.
He held them up eye-level, studying them.
"I think these gloves have seen their last days." Harry said grimly to himself, getting out of his chair to throw them away.
It was time for him to let go of the memory of his dead godfather he had tried to hold on to so tightly.
There was a loud thunk as they hit the bottom of his tin wastebasket. The sight of the pathetic gloves curled together touching each other made Harry's stomach turn.
Harry's insides flipped again, and he nearly jumped as the bell rang loud and shrill.
Harry fidgeted with the collar of his sweater as he strode back towards the entrance of his apartment.
He unlocked the chain latch with a smart click, and moved to open the door. His hand hovered over the doorknob as he paused to take a deep breath and plaster a smile on his face.
He grasped the doorknob snugly and swung the door open.
"Hey Ro-." He stopped, alarmed.
Instead of the blazing red hair and freckled face he expected to see, in his place stood a pale blonde-haired man he immediately recognized.
"Draco, what are you doing here?"
His surprised faded and in its place filled anger, and he moved to close the door. Draco quickly grabbed the edge of the door with his hand.
"Harry don't shut the door on me." His voice calm and mellow, almost pleading.
"Give me one good reason." Harry snarled. "I'm expecting important guests soon so if you could please...Guh." He grunted, struggling with the door, pulling on it with all his strength.
The door swung back and forth with the weight of the two men.
"I know you're mad at me right now, I know it's too soon to come see you after our fight but I need a place to...uff...get...away."
He could feel and hear the door creak, almost in pain.
Harry pulled even harder, lifting his left leg to the doorframe for leverage.
"You have your own damn house, you don't have to bother...me."
With one last strong heave he slammed the door shut, twisting the lock quickly before Draco could grab a hold of the knob again.
He turned around, leaning heavily against his door and sliding down to a sitting position, breathing deeply chest heaving up and down.
"Harry." Came the nearly muffled cry.
"Go find a fucking Motel 6." Harry called back as loud as he could.
Silence greeted him.
"Finally." He muttered, standing back up, feeling a disheveled, stressed and panicked. Running his right hand through his tangled black hair, he pressed his left ear firmly to the door, making sure Draco wasn't lurking around anywhere outside still.
"What have I gotten myself into?" Harry moaned, this time burying both hands in the mess he called hair.
After recollecting himself he walked into what he called his kitchen, yet it was pretty much in the same room as the living room. Which was also pretty much the same room as the family room. Which was just barely connected to his bedroom and bathroom.
He moved towards the kitchen table, no longer the white color it used to be. His mouth curled at the edges as he grimaced at the pile of bills, taxes, and other expenses Harry had managed to collect. He didn't even have a shred of independence in him, only relied on other people to take care of him and the money he owed. This was the fourth time Harry had to get Ron and Hermione to help him out in the cash department, and by now it had become somewhat ritualistic.
He had the overcoming urge to pick up each and every envelope, each statement, and tear it in half and set the pieces on fire. The thought made him smile sadistically.
Unexpectedly, the harsh sound of a chair scraping on his tiled floor startled him out of his daydreaming. He looked up toward the guilty face of Draco, holding on to the chair he had recently run into.
"How did you get in here?!?" Harry shrieked, eyebrows furrowing with frustration.
He knew that there wasn't a legitimate reason for him being so angry with Draco. In fact he wasn't very upset, he merely wasn't in the mood to deal with Draco and his flirting and his haughty, joking remarks. Every time he saw Draco he was reminded of their agreement and it make him sick and queasy.
"You forgot you gave me an extra key about a year ago..." Draco said, still with a look of uncertainty on his face.
"Then why didn't you just come in earlier?" Harry asked, closing his eyes, feeling incredibly overwhelmed.
"I figured I would knock, give it a try." Draco stated, scratching the back of his neck. He shrugged off one sleeve of his coat.
"Can I stay?" He gently and cautiously asked, brushing off the other side of his coat, letting it fall on the dirty table.
"Why?" Harry's throaty voice nearly echoed in his bare apartment. "Why, why, why did you have to come here? Here!"
Harry nearly threw himself on his plastic, foldable dinner chairs.
"Ally's been calling me non-stop on my home phone, cell, work number." Draco sighed, exasperated. "Apparently she heard us fighting before you left, and wanted to consol me or something utterly ridiculous like that."
Harry remained silent.
"I'm sorry I bothered you but I couldn't think of anywhere else to go that she wouldn't find me." Draco held an unsure smile.
There was a pause.
"Harry?" Draco's voice was tentative, he lifted himself on his toes to try and get a peak at the expression on Harry's bent-over head.
"Fine." Harry looked up and sighed. "Fine you can stay here but you just have to hide or some-"
He was abruptly cut off as they both heard a rattling outside Harry's door.
"Ron!" Harry whispered in a panic. He frantically leapt out of his chair and grabbed Draco firmly, dragging him into his bedroom.
"Where to hide, where to hide-" Harry muttered, frenzied, still keeping a tight grip on Draco.
"Harry, what in the world are you doing? Stop pinching me that hurts!" Draco yelped as he was heaved through Harry's room.
He heard the familiar squeak of the door opening.
"Harry mate?" Came a too-close voice from the other room.
"Oh no, what's Ron going to think when he finds- Ah ha!"
Harry quickly grasped Draco and opened his closet door in a flourish that made a loud thud as the door hit the wall.
"Shit!" He whispered.
"Harry, what's all that racket?" Harry recognized the feminine voice of Hermione.
"N-Nothing!" He called back, trying his hardest to shove Draco into his already cluttered closet.
"Potter, are you mad?" Draco indignantly shouted, and grabbed on to the sides of the closet, making sure that he didn't get shoved in.
"Was that Draco?" The question hung in the air as Harry heard his friend's footsteps quickly approaching.
Finally Draco's thin form snugly slid in between some of Harry's piled clothes and a shelf. Panting like a dog, Harry slammed the door shut, covering up Draco's yell of protest under the smack of the door.
Just as this was happening Ron and Hermione burst through Harry's door, immensely curious as to what exactly Harry was doing in his bedroom.
"Harry!" Hermione yelled.
He turned around so swiftly he hit his hand on the closed doors of his closet with a sickening slap.
Harry screamed in pain, and leaned back against the closet to rub his stinging knuckles.
On the other side of the door Draco banged loudly, suddenly finding himself afraid of the dark. The closet doors moved with every hit, and would've swung open had Harry not been resting on it.
"What in the world is going on?!?" Hermione questioned. Harry looked back and forth at the perplexed faces of his friends.
"Nothing. Nothing at all." He said in a voice devoid of breath, chest heaving up and down. He kept his hands firmly on the doors so they wouldn't fly open, the closet still shuddering.
"Harry..."
Harry's breathing became hitched, his lungs felt like they were going to burst. He began to feel lightheaded and dizzy and the room seemed like it was spinning.
The only thing holding him up was the closet he was leaning on, his palms dug into the grainy wood surface as if his very life depended on it. The sweat beading on his hands and the blood dripping over his knuckles loosened his grip.
He finally crashed to the floor, seeing nothing but black, unaware of the cries of his friends and their concerned touches.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The smell of bagels and muffins enticed Harry's senses oh-so intensely. He couldn't wait to go home and cook (and eat) dinner.
He wrapped the next order with the wax paper stacked next to him squeezing it carefully around the bread, nestling it like a blanket.
He was going to miss this. No, not the simplicity of rolling sandwiches and packing them into people's lunches, but waking up in the morning and having somewhere to go. That was the thing he was going to miss.
"'Ey Harry!" Called the familiar voice of his co-worker Travis. "About 10 minutes until we close up and Draco wants to see you after closing. Something about closing your job."
"Alright. Thanks Travs." Harry called back, his emotions doing another twist. He always got a little light-headed and anxious when Draco was spoken of. He ran his fingers along his lips.
He couldn't get that damn memory out of his head.
Harry sighed again, finishing up the sandwich and placing it in the paper bag ready for pick up. Another thing he couldn't stop thinking about was Laurie. It was too soon to let go of her; it was too soon to forget about the aching hole in him now that she was gone. But it was his fault she was gone, he practically drove her away himself. He spent too much time with Draco and it had finally caught up with him.
She deserved better anyway.
He handed the bag to his assistant. "That's the last one." She said with a smile. "Finally," She stretched her arms. "We get to go home."
"Yeah." Harry murmured still feeling the effects of the long day he had.
He reached behind his back, twisting his neck so he could see as he untied his white apron. After removing it, he held it up to his face for inspection. With a reluctant, longing sigh he removed the pin containing his nametag "HARRY" on the face of it.
"See you tomorrow Harry." The woman called, picking up her purse from the table next to him.
"Yeah..." Harry said softly. "Tomorrow."
He set the now identity-less apron down, neatly folded on a nearby station. He wouldn't need it anymore; the next employee Draco hired would be using it.
He took a deep breath, smoothed out his shirt and went to the back, where Draco's office was.
It was a little more than terrifying, standing outside that door. After the last time he had seen Draco, he tried as hard as possible never to have to see him again. Never to have to look upon the confident smirk he wore, the impeccable, flattering way he dressed, or the funny way he stammered when drunk.
It was the fact that he couldn't help replaying the whole situation in his head every time he thought of him or looked at him. As of late he had only caught fleeting glances of Draco because he had done everything in his power to avoid him.
And yet...
He ran his fingers over his lips again. There was some type of raw emotion hidden under all of the many other distraught, confused ones tangled in his head already.
He approached the door, took another breath and closed his eyes.
This is it Harry. Just get through this and you won't have to see him again.
Harry opened the door as slowly as he could, delaying, drawing out the moment.
"You wanted to see me Mr. Malfoy." He said as purely professional as he could. He tried to make it seen like their relationship was platonic, that they had never spent many afternoons and evenings laughing until all hours, never shared private jokes with each other, never wrestled with each other on the grass like schoolboys.
"You don't have to look at the ground when speaking to me." Draco grumbled, nearly startling Harry.
It had been nearly 3 or was it 4 days that he hadn't spoken to Draco. The sound of his voice was unfamiliar to Harry.
"I do." Harry replied defiantly, making a point to sound devoid of emotion, which was the entire opposite of the turmoil presently going on inside him.
Draco chose to ignore this comment, and pushed down harder on his pen as he scribbled out the form that officially let Harry go.
"You know, you don't have to quit." He said, rather offhandedly, scribbling his signature at the bottom in a flourish that could only be done so gracefully by Draco.
"I do." Harry repeated, touching the paper with his fingertips and sliding it around so it faced him. Their hands bumped as Draco handed over the pen and Harry almost jumped a foot in the air. His face began growing red.
"You don't." Draco said more firmly than he had been earlier, attempting to make eye contact between them. "Honestly."
"Draco you don't understand." Harry stated simply as he signed the form.
"Harry why can't you just forget about it and move on? Why is this bothering you so much?" He cried, frustrated and unafraid to show it.
"Forget about it?" Harry said with a laugh, running shaking fingers through his hair. "How can I forget about it? It's not something you easily forgive someone for." He picked up the paper from Draco's desk; putting it in a folder that Draco had supplied him with.
"Forgive?!?" Draco guffawed. "Seeing how it's slipped your mind it takes two Harry, to make that kind of mistake."
Harry slipped the folder under his arm casually.
"We've had this discussion before Draco." He shrugged and turned around. "There's nothing more to it."
Draco stood up immediately, catching Harry's arm before he could move towards the door.
"I've heard it too many times Potter. You say that I initiated everything, which is a load of bullshit. You're just deluding yourself."
"Deluding myself?!?" Harry exclaimed, glaring at Draco.
"Yes, deluding yourself. Anyway even if I had initiated everything you weren't exactly stopping it."
Harry fell silent, his shoulders hung, knowing that Draco was right.
"Not until she came in, did you protest, claiming that I had drugged you or something. Not that you weren't already drunk out of your mind." Draco continued with a steady, unreadable face.
"You better well bloody shut up Malfoy, don't talk about her like you actually even knew what was going on between us." Harry ripped his arm away from Draco's vice grip.
"How could I forget what was going on between you two, you couldn't stop talking about her. Every time I was with you, you bloody wouldn't shut up about it." He countered.
"That's because I loved her!" Harry screamed back.
"Then why did you go and do a stupid thing like kiss me?" Draco shouted in retaliation, leaving the awkward question hanging.
"I didn't." Harry snarled, letting their furious eyes meet.
"Well it's understandable if you didn't remember everything as clearly as me, you were twice as drunk as I was. It's like you have no self control at all." He said coldly, feeling once again superior to his comrade.
"I have a perfect amount of self control. I just wasn't thinking straight that night, and that's all there was to it." Harry, lingering their eye contact turned around.
"You're just scared Harry." Draco called callously after his retreating form.
"You need to stop pretending something never happened between us, stop pretending that you're not afraid of this, stop pretending that you're brave!" Draco growled viciously.
Harry kept moving. Draco followed him out the door, unfinished.
"You're pretending that girl actually meant something to you, pretending that I was the one that lost her for you, but it was you Harry. It was your own fucking fault!"
Draco yelled as loud as he could, keeping one hand on his ajar door.
"Don't even fucking come back here!!!" His voice grew hoarse in Harry's ears with the amount of force put behind it.
As his strides spend up to keep in time with his trembling heartbeat Harry grew light-headed. He was so confused. He could feel a burning pain behind his chest, aching the same way it did when he saw Laurie's horrified face when she walked in on the pair.
The back of his eyes prick as he began to wheeze, panting as hard as he could feeling more and more dread seem into him by the second.
It was going to be a long walk home tonight
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
A/N: Just in case you missed it that was a flashback. Only a part of the HiaT background you all have been clawing your way to get at ;)
Thanks for all the positive comments, and yes, I'm getting to all the background information, you gotta be patient! It's on the 3rd chapter!
~Tink
P.S.
There's going to be a delay on the next chapter because I'm going to Dallas this Thursday. I'll finish it as soon as I can
~Tink
Warning: M/M
Disclaimer: I don't own it : )
He failed, which really wasn't a surprise to him seeing as it was concordant with his behavior recently. He also didn't own an answering machine so Ron hadn't left a message; the phone merely beeped reminding him that he was too late to answer the call, no matter who it may have been.
He picked up the receiver in one hand while removing his winter coat and throwing it to the floor with customary organizational skills.
He dialed the numbers by heart, knowing the reason for the call and also hoping Ron and Hermione would forget the previous tiff they had and remembering that Harry classified in the category of a 'Friend in (desperate) need.'
The dial tone sounded three times before...
"Hullo?" Came the deep, mature voice of his long-time friend Ron Weasley.
"It's Harry," were the simple words spoken into the phone.
"Oh." He could've sworn Ron sounded a bit disappointed. "Well Hermione and I will meet you at Draco's café to discuss this months nit-picks. Unless you just want us to come over to your place..."
Ron trailed off, and Harry knew that Ron did not want to even risk the chance of encountering his nemesis (had they been categorized into roles). Draco and Ron had been at each other even the first time they had met (through Harry) and have never given up on their rivalry since.
"My place is O.k." Harry spoke calmly yet was secretly dreading what would follow, and could now almost hear the scolding remarks coming from Hermione.
"Harry you need to get your life into a rhythm...Get a girlfriend, a job, anything to hold yourself together"
The phone was hung up with a smart click, and Harry was left fifteen minutes for him to worry over the situation at hand. Would Ron and Hermione reject him, leaving him to his own devices this month or lend him a helping hand.
Once again.
He sighed, rubbing his face with his still gloved hands, knocking his glasses askew and flopped down in the nearest armchair, waiting for his friends to arrive. He glared as he stared and picked at the tears in his gloves, suddenly pulling them off and throwing them fiercely on top of his jacket.
"Fucking gloves..." He muttered.
They were old gloves that barely fit anymore, littered with rips and holes, yet Harry held on to them. Sure he could always go to the store and buy a $2.50 pair of gloves, he at least had that much spare change.
But these gloves were a gift given to him when he was 16 years old, from his godfather Sirius. It hurt to think back on it, his weary face full of stubble grinning at him as Harry opened his Christmas presents.
"This winter is rumored to be the coldest yet Harry!" His toothy smile was a little frightening, his teeth yellowing, cheekbones hollow with age.
"Thanks Sirius." Harry said weakly, looking at the gloves with disappointment.
It was only a year later that Sirius had passed away; prison had sucked the life right out of him, as well as the will to continue on.
Sirius was the only living relative Harry had left that last Christmas day spent at the Weasley's. It was agonizing to know that at a mere 16 years old Harry was the only one left.
He delicately picked them up from the floor, bending his back over as far as he could without straining the sensitive muscles.
He held them up eye-level, studying them.
"I think these gloves have seen their last days." Harry said grimly to himself, getting out of his chair to throw them away.
It was time for him to let go of the memory of his dead godfather he had tried to hold on to so tightly.
There was a loud thunk as they hit the bottom of his tin wastebasket. The sight of the pathetic gloves curled together touching each other made Harry's stomach turn.
Harry's insides flipped again, and he nearly jumped as the bell rang loud and shrill.
Harry fidgeted with the collar of his sweater as he strode back towards the entrance of his apartment.
He unlocked the chain latch with a smart click, and moved to open the door. His hand hovered over the doorknob as he paused to take a deep breath and plaster a smile on his face.
He grasped the doorknob snugly and swung the door open.
"Hey Ro-." He stopped, alarmed.
Instead of the blazing red hair and freckled face he expected to see, in his place stood a pale blonde-haired man he immediately recognized.
"Draco, what are you doing here?"
His surprised faded and in its place filled anger, and he moved to close the door. Draco quickly grabbed the edge of the door with his hand.
"Harry don't shut the door on me." His voice calm and mellow, almost pleading.
"Give me one good reason." Harry snarled. "I'm expecting important guests soon so if you could please...Guh." He grunted, struggling with the door, pulling on it with all his strength.
The door swung back and forth with the weight of the two men.
"I know you're mad at me right now, I know it's too soon to come see you after our fight but I need a place to...uff...get...away."
He could feel and hear the door creak, almost in pain.
Harry pulled even harder, lifting his left leg to the doorframe for leverage.
"You have your own damn house, you don't have to bother...me."
With one last strong heave he slammed the door shut, twisting the lock quickly before Draco could grab a hold of the knob again.
He turned around, leaning heavily against his door and sliding down to a sitting position, breathing deeply chest heaving up and down.
"Harry." Came the nearly muffled cry.
"Go find a fucking Motel 6." Harry called back as loud as he could.
Silence greeted him.
"Finally." He muttered, standing back up, feeling a disheveled, stressed and panicked. Running his right hand through his tangled black hair, he pressed his left ear firmly to the door, making sure Draco wasn't lurking around anywhere outside still.
"What have I gotten myself into?" Harry moaned, this time burying both hands in the mess he called hair.
After recollecting himself he walked into what he called his kitchen, yet it was pretty much in the same room as the living room. Which was also pretty much the same room as the family room. Which was just barely connected to his bedroom and bathroom.
He moved towards the kitchen table, no longer the white color it used to be. His mouth curled at the edges as he grimaced at the pile of bills, taxes, and other expenses Harry had managed to collect. He didn't even have a shred of independence in him, only relied on other people to take care of him and the money he owed. This was the fourth time Harry had to get Ron and Hermione to help him out in the cash department, and by now it had become somewhat ritualistic.
He had the overcoming urge to pick up each and every envelope, each statement, and tear it in half and set the pieces on fire. The thought made him smile sadistically.
Unexpectedly, the harsh sound of a chair scraping on his tiled floor startled him out of his daydreaming. He looked up toward the guilty face of Draco, holding on to the chair he had recently run into.
"How did you get in here?!?" Harry shrieked, eyebrows furrowing with frustration.
He knew that there wasn't a legitimate reason for him being so angry with Draco. In fact he wasn't very upset, he merely wasn't in the mood to deal with Draco and his flirting and his haughty, joking remarks. Every time he saw Draco he was reminded of their agreement and it make him sick and queasy.
"You forgot you gave me an extra key about a year ago..." Draco said, still with a look of uncertainty on his face.
"Then why didn't you just come in earlier?" Harry asked, closing his eyes, feeling incredibly overwhelmed.
"I figured I would knock, give it a try." Draco stated, scratching the back of his neck. He shrugged off one sleeve of his coat.
"Can I stay?" He gently and cautiously asked, brushing off the other side of his coat, letting it fall on the dirty table.
"Why?" Harry's throaty voice nearly echoed in his bare apartment. "Why, why, why did you have to come here? Here!"
Harry nearly threw himself on his plastic, foldable dinner chairs.
"Ally's been calling me non-stop on my home phone, cell, work number." Draco sighed, exasperated. "Apparently she heard us fighting before you left, and wanted to consol me or something utterly ridiculous like that."
Harry remained silent.
"I'm sorry I bothered you but I couldn't think of anywhere else to go that she wouldn't find me." Draco held an unsure smile.
There was a pause.
"Harry?" Draco's voice was tentative, he lifted himself on his toes to try and get a peak at the expression on Harry's bent-over head.
"Fine." Harry looked up and sighed. "Fine you can stay here but you just have to hide or some-"
He was abruptly cut off as they both heard a rattling outside Harry's door.
"Ron!" Harry whispered in a panic. He frantically leapt out of his chair and grabbed Draco firmly, dragging him into his bedroom.
"Where to hide, where to hide-" Harry muttered, frenzied, still keeping a tight grip on Draco.
"Harry, what in the world are you doing? Stop pinching me that hurts!" Draco yelped as he was heaved through Harry's room.
He heard the familiar squeak of the door opening.
"Harry mate?" Came a too-close voice from the other room.
"Oh no, what's Ron going to think when he finds- Ah ha!"
Harry quickly grasped Draco and opened his closet door in a flourish that made a loud thud as the door hit the wall.
"Shit!" He whispered.
"Harry, what's all that racket?" Harry recognized the feminine voice of Hermione.
"N-Nothing!" He called back, trying his hardest to shove Draco into his already cluttered closet.
"Potter, are you mad?" Draco indignantly shouted, and grabbed on to the sides of the closet, making sure that he didn't get shoved in.
"Was that Draco?" The question hung in the air as Harry heard his friend's footsteps quickly approaching.
Finally Draco's thin form snugly slid in between some of Harry's piled clothes and a shelf. Panting like a dog, Harry slammed the door shut, covering up Draco's yell of protest under the smack of the door.
Just as this was happening Ron and Hermione burst through Harry's door, immensely curious as to what exactly Harry was doing in his bedroom.
"Harry!" Hermione yelled.
He turned around so swiftly he hit his hand on the closed doors of his closet with a sickening slap.
Harry screamed in pain, and leaned back against the closet to rub his stinging knuckles.
On the other side of the door Draco banged loudly, suddenly finding himself afraid of the dark. The closet doors moved with every hit, and would've swung open had Harry not been resting on it.
"What in the world is going on?!?" Hermione questioned. Harry looked back and forth at the perplexed faces of his friends.
"Nothing. Nothing at all." He said in a voice devoid of breath, chest heaving up and down. He kept his hands firmly on the doors so they wouldn't fly open, the closet still shuddering.
"Harry..."
Harry's breathing became hitched, his lungs felt like they were going to burst. He began to feel lightheaded and dizzy and the room seemed like it was spinning.
The only thing holding him up was the closet he was leaning on, his palms dug into the grainy wood surface as if his very life depended on it. The sweat beading on his hands and the blood dripping over his knuckles loosened his grip.
He finally crashed to the floor, seeing nothing but black, unaware of the cries of his friends and their concerned touches.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The smell of bagels and muffins enticed Harry's senses oh-so intensely. He couldn't wait to go home and cook (and eat) dinner.
He wrapped the next order with the wax paper stacked next to him squeezing it carefully around the bread, nestling it like a blanket.
He was going to miss this. No, not the simplicity of rolling sandwiches and packing them into people's lunches, but waking up in the morning and having somewhere to go. That was the thing he was going to miss.
"'Ey Harry!" Called the familiar voice of his co-worker Travis. "About 10 minutes until we close up and Draco wants to see you after closing. Something about closing your job."
"Alright. Thanks Travs." Harry called back, his emotions doing another twist. He always got a little light-headed and anxious when Draco was spoken of. He ran his fingers along his lips.
He couldn't get that damn memory out of his head.
Harry sighed again, finishing up the sandwich and placing it in the paper bag ready for pick up. Another thing he couldn't stop thinking about was Laurie. It was too soon to let go of her; it was too soon to forget about the aching hole in him now that she was gone. But it was his fault she was gone, he practically drove her away himself. He spent too much time with Draco and it had finally caught up with him.
She deserved better anyway.
He handed the bag to his assistant. "That's the last one." She said with a smile. "Finally," She stretched her arms. "We get to go home."
"Yeah." Harry murmured still feeling the effects of the long day he had.
He reached behind his back, twisting his neck so he could see as he untied his white apron. After removing it, he held it up to his face for inspection. With a reluctant, longing sigh he removed the pin containing his nametag "HARRY" on the face of it.
"See you tomorrow Harry." The woman called, picking up her purse from the table next to him.
"Yeah..." Harry said softly. "Tomorrow."
He set the now identity-less apron down, neatly folded on a nearby station. He wouldn't need it anymore; the next employee Draco hired would be using it.
He took a deep breath, smoothed out his shirt and went to the back, where Draco's office was.
It was a little more than terrifying, standing outside that door. After the last time he had seen Draco, he tried as hard as possible never to have to see him again. Never to have to look upon the confident smirk he wore, the impeccable, flattering way he dressed, or the funny way he stammered when drunk.
It was the fact that he couldn't help replaying the whole situation in his head every time he thought of him or looked at him. As of late he had only caught fleeting glances of Draco because he had done everything in his power to avoid him.
And yet...
He ran his fingers over his lips again. There was some type of raw emotion hidden under all of the many other distraught, confused ones tangled in his head already.
He approached the door, took another breath and closed his eyes.
This is it Harry. Just get through this and you won't have to see him again.
Harry opened the door as slowly as he could, delaying, drawing out the moment.
"You wanted to see me Mr. Malfoy." He said as purely professional as he could. He tried to make it seen like their relationship was platonic, that they had never spent many afternoons and evenings laughing until all hours, never shared private jokes with each other, never wrestled with each other on the grass like schoolboys.
"You don't have to look at the ground when speaking to me." Draco grumbled, nearly startling Harry.
It had been nearly 3 or was it 4 days that he hadn't spoken to Draco. The sound of his voice was unfamiliar to Harry.
"I do." Harry replied defiantly, making a point to sound devoid of emotion, which was the entire opposite of the turmoil presently going on inside him.
Draco chose to ignore this comment, and pushed down harder on his pen as he scribbled out the form that officially let Harry go.
"You know, you don't have to quit." He said, rather offhandedly, scribbling his signature at the bottom in a flourish that could only be done so gracefully by Draco.
"I do." Harry repeated, touching the paper with his fingertips and sliding it around so it faced him. Their hands bumped as Draco handed over the pen and Harry almost jumped a foot in the air. His face began growing red.
"You don't." Draco said more firmly than he had been earlier, attempting to make eye contact between them. "Honestly."
"Draco you don't understand." Harry stated simply as he signed the form.
"Harry why can't you just forget about it and move on? Why is this bothering you so much?" He cried, frustrated and unafraid to show it.
"Forget about it?" Harry said with a laugh, running shaking fingers through his hair. "How can I forget about it? It's not something you easily forgive someone for." He picked up the paper from Draco's desk; putting it in a folder that Draco had supplied him with.
"Forgive?!?" Draco guffawed. "Seeing how it's slipped your mind it takes two Harry, to make that kind of mistake."
Harry slipped the folder under his arm casually.
"We've had this discussion before Draco." He shrugged and turned around. "There's nothing more to it."
Draco stood up immediately, catching Harry's arm before he could move towards the door.
"I've heard it too many times Potter. You say that I initiated everything, which is a load of bullshit. You're just deluding yourself."
"Deluding myself?!?" Harry exclaimed, glaring at Draco.
"Yes, deluding yourself. Anyway even if I had initiated everything you weren't exactly stopping it."
Harry fell silent, his shoulders hung, knowing that Draco was right.
"Not until she came in, did you protest, claiming that I had drugged you or something. Not that you weren't already drunk out of your mind." Draco continued with a steady, unreadable face.
"You better well bloody shut up Malfoy, don't talk about her like you actually even knew what was going on between us." Harry ripped his arm away from Draco's vice grip.
"How could I forget what was going on between you two, you couldn't stop talking about her. Every time I was with you, you bloody wouldn't shut up about it." He countered.
"That's because I loved her!" Harry screamed back.
"Then why did you go and do a stupid thing like kiss me?" Draco shouted in retaliation, leaving the awkward question hanging.
"I didn't." Harry snarled, letting their furious eyes meet.
"Well it's understandable if you didn't remember everything as clearly as me, you were twice as drunk as I was. It's like you have no self control at all." He said coldly, feeling once again superior to his comrade.
"I have a perfect amount of self control. I just wasn't thinking straight that night, and that's all there was to it." Harry, lingering their eye contact turned around.
"You're just scared Harry." Draco called callously after his retreating form.
"You need to stop pretending something never happened between us, stop pretending that you're not afraid of this, stop pretending that you're brave!" Draco growled viciously.
Harry kept moving. Draco followed him out the door, unfinished.
"You're pretending that girl actually meant something to you, pretending that I was the one that lost her for you, but it was you Harry. It was your own fucking fault!"
Draco yelled as loud as he could, keeping one hand on his ajar door.
"Don't even fucking come back here!!!" His voice grew hoarse in Harry's ears with the amount of force put behind it.
As his strides spend up to keep in time with his trembling heartbeat Harry grew light-headed. He was so confused. He could feel a burning pain behind his chest, aching the same way it did when he saw Laurie's horrified face when she walked in on the pair.
The back of his eyes prick as he began to wheeze, panting as hard as he could feeling more and more dread seem into him by the second.
It was going to be a long walk home tonight
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
A/N: Just in case you missed it that was a flashback. Only a part of the HiaT background you all have been clawing your way to get at ;)
Thanks for all the positive comments, and yes, I'm getting to all the background information, you gotta be patient! It's on the 3rd chapter!
~Tink
P.S.
There's going to be a delay on the next chapter because I'm going to Dallas this Thursday. I'll finish it as soon as I can
~Tink
