21. Un-Break My Heart

It took him only two minutes to storm down to the Bar and find Ron Weasley sitting at the counter with Hermione. Ron was clearly having fun time in making Hermione drink some more wine, and he seemed to be very relaxed and happy. Harry's stomach lurched and he balled his fists so hard that his knuckles went white.

It was the first time in six years that he had felt such strong animosity towards his supposed-to-be-best friend.

"What the FUCK were you thinking?" Harry roared, grabbing Ron from the shoulder and turning him around in the spinning chair. "I am THIS CLOSE to KILL you," Harry twined his fingers roughly around Ron's throat.

"H-h-harry, what are you d-doing?" Ron squeaked.

"How could you do something like that?" Harry yelled back at him, eyes flashing with fury. "How could you tell them we kissed?"

"Calm down, mate, I didn't…"

"THE FUCK I'M CALMING DOWN, YOU STUPID OAF!" Harry wasn't listening. "Sometimes I think there's nothing between your ears! Do you even realize what you've done?"

"Um… Harry, I'm sure you two can sort this out," Ron was stammering, "I can help you with that. Ask him here and I'll explain everything…"

"Are you listening to me at all?" Harry roared. "He's gone! He's fucking left the building, for what I know! And believe me, I wouldn't ask him to look at your sordid freckled face just for the sake of my own peace of mind. He's that precious to me! AND YOU HAVE FUCKING RUINED IT ALL!"

Harry's grasp grew stronger and Ron certainly looked horrified now. "H-harry…"

Eyes darkening to almost black-green with anger, Harry pushed Ron down from the chair, on the floor. "Fuck you, Ron!"

Hermione had begun to cry. "Harry, please calm down. Really, if you would only tell us who he is…"

"And you should definitely not fuck him, Mione," Harry continued, as if not having heard her. "Ginny's far better off than Ron –although she's a Weasley, too."

Ron's mouth opened at the insult, and he was definitely at a loss what to do or say. He tried to get up, but Harry placed a boot over his chest, waving his finger.

"Don't bother, or I'll kick you."

"Harry…" sobbed Hermione. "You're just so drunk now. Couldn't we speak of this tomorrow… when… when you won't be so close to killing Ron?"

"I'm afraid things won't change that much in five hours," Harry growled. "But if I was you, Ron, I'd really hope they would."

Ron gulped, his face being very pale.

"Harry, you've been acting very strangely these past weeks…" Hermione sniffed. "You've not been yourself. I can sense there's so much more going on than what you care to explain us. I'm sure, if Ron had known better…"

"Yes, if Ron had known better, he'd kept his bloody mouth shut. And I mean, if he would've known his own best better!" Harry grunted, digging his heel in Ron's stomach, making his friend wail silently. He ignored the fact that half of the bar was watching him.

"This is entirely your own fault, Harry," Hermione scowled. "If you wouldn't have shut us both out of your life, the way you've done so often lately, we would've known what the situation was. Now, I'm not the kind of girl who usually thinks ill of any kind of exceptional personalities, such as homosexuals, and I am sure that if you would've given us the privilege to know how you feel inside, if you would've explained us your feelings…"

"Exceptional personalities, is that what you call gays?" Harry spat. "Well fuck you, too. Don't try to pepper up this drunken conversation with some bloody stupid girlish la-di-dah, Mione, I'm not in the mood right now. Just bloody make sure Ron stays out of my way, if you want him stay alive."

Harry stormed off, casting a murderous look at the squirming Ronald Weasley as he went.

Draco was sitting in a collapsed position on the shower floor. Cooling water was stealing away the hot tears that swelled from his eyes. He curled in a little heap in the corner, leaning his back on the cold ceramic tiles, shivering with both anger and misery.

So it had happened to him.

He had let himself fall in love with someone.

Gasping for more air, he bent his head backwards and looked at the white ceiling. His blurry eyes couldn't focus on anything, and his drunken state did not help the matter at all. He felt like dying there and then.

"How could he do something like that? Fuck him… Damn, I'm so pathetic…"

Draco scraped his wrists and inner arms with his fingernails, wanting to hurt himself. He spoke silently at the empty bathroom, wanting to clarify his own thoughts. However, he felt only more miserable, the more he thought about Harry.

"Of course he was only playing with me. After all, he's not that different from me… He's quite much like me, really… But how could he go with Weasel… For Merlin's sake, Weasel…"

Angrily, Draco kicked the opposite wall of the shower cubicle. It didn't end up to anything except his left heel hurting. He scowled at the ceiling again, groaning with anger.

"I know I have had my own adventures… I know I'm not the most innocent one… But I never betrayed Potter… Not Potter…"

New tears made his eyes blur, and he sobbed them down.

"Malfoy's don't cry… I haven't cried in thirteen years… I'm not going to start now…"

He ducked his head under the cold shower and inhaled the watery air through his mouth. His hair was in wet curls all over his face but he was too tired of wiping them away.

He was too tired to do anything at all.

"Let me in! Is Draco there?"

Harry had been running through the whole party house, in his search for Draco, but had not been lucky. Now he was standing in front of the Red Chamber, nearly banging the door inside.

The red wood creaked open and a very icy-looking Montague emerged in the doorway.

"Potter, I suggest you drag your sorry ass far away from this area," he snarled. "In case you haven't noticed, you're not exactly in our favour anymore."

"Where's Draco? I need to talk to him," Harry insisted. "I fucking need to explain!"

"Draco is not here. And even if he was, I'm sure he wouldn't want to hear your explanations. So bugger the fuck off."

"I will not!" Harry crossed his arms.

Montague lazily leaned at the doorframe. "Tut, tut, Harry boy… Kissing the Weasley guy… I really don't blame Draco. Even a Blast-Ended Skrewt would've been a better choice, if forgiveness from him was sought."

"Skin a little bit deeper, will you!" Harry yelled. "It was not a real kiss! I would never do anything like that! I love Draco!"

"Yeah, sure, that's what he told us. And sure what a way to show it, too, Potter," Montague smirked.

"Fuck you Rodriquez," Harry spat, "You don't understand shit!"

"No, I really don't understand shit," Montague grinned, "And shit was exactly the thing what you did to my friend."

"IT WAS NOT A REAL KISS!" Harry shouted his lungs out.

"Oh?" Montague raised his dark brows. "So it was just a little kiss? A half-done kiss? A fake kiss? A reluctant kiss?"

"I was trying to teach my friend how to do it."

"Yeah, well, Weasley certainly needs all the help he can get," Montague mocked. "But what you did was still wrong. How would you feel if you found out Draco's been teaching Terry Boot how to kiss, in secret from you?"

"He's been kissing Terry Boot?" Harry gaped. "HOW FUCKING DISGUSTING!"

Montague smirked. "No, he has not. In fact, you're the first one of his relationships where he's taken the trouble of staying single-hearted."

"I am? He's betrayed his former… em… partners?"

"More like he had several partners at the same time… But you were the first to make him drop all the others."

Harry smiled, despite the sticky situation. He felt warmness surge in his veins, and he felt the need to find Draco even more pressing.

"Look, I am truly sorry for what I did. It was a stupid mistake. And I need Draco's forgiveness."

"Well, good luck. But you're not going to find him here. He's gone to the dungeons," Montague finished, and closed the door at Harry's face.

Draco lazily put on a pair of pyjama bottoms, made of deep red cotton. He didn't find the energy to dry his hair properly, nor did he have the energy to search for the upper part of the pyjama. He merely glared at his reflection from the mirror, who was, for the first time in her mirror-life, silent.

"Nothing to comment on tonight, Mirror?" Draco drawled. "Or don't you have the guts to tell me how fucked up I look?"

"Your eyes seem to be a bit red, I admit," was the timid answer.

Draco scowled at his reflection, took his wand and fixed the matter.

"Better?"

"You could also do something about those scratch marks on your arms, dearest," the mirror suggested.

Draco did as he was told, understanding that it wasn't appropriate for him to show any signs of weakness.

"What else?"

"Nothing else, darling," the mirror sang, "You're again your gorgeous self."

"Go sod yourself, I know I look like shit," Draco snarled.

"I rather like the wet look of your hair," was the reply.

"You always were a vain ass-kisser thing, weren't you?" Draco actually smiled, despite the fact that he was so miserable. And angry.

"So… I took your advice and got a little closer to Potter."

"And what was the result?"

Draco sighed. "I got us both obsessed and now I hate both him and myself. And don't ask."

"Alright, I will not," said the mirror, a bit insulted.

"Also, I know Potter's coming over tonight," Draco continued, merely speaking to himself. "He's not giving up so easily. He will come here, and he will beg me to forgive him. I can sense his despair of explaining his motives to me. But guess what? I'm not interested to hear."

"I don't know what you are talking about, sweetheart."

"We had our first and last fight, Mirror. He betrayed me."

"Oh, that's terrible!" the mirror shrieked.

"More like repulsive," Draco corrected. "And I have no intention to forgive him."

He stared rather blankly at a hairspray container Blaise had accidentally left in the room. However, soon the little words began to give him a new meaning.

"Pressurized container… yeah, that's me," Draco read. "Protect from sunlight and do not expose to temperatures exceeding +50 degrees Celsius." Harry. "Do not pierce or burn, even after use." Yes, Harry… "Do not spray on naked flame or any incandescent material." Harry. "Keep away from sources of ignition." Harry. "No smoking." The hell with that! "Extremely flammable." Damn right I am!

Draco ignored the fresh tears that were threatening to spill out from his eyes and left for the empty common room.

Harry whirled up the stairs towards the Chess Room, from where loud music was flooding down the archway. He jumped three steps up at a time, hurrying towards the exit. He decided to avoid the full dance floor by sneaking along the walls and between the chess piece furniture, wanting to get rapidly forwards. Dungeons, dungeons, dungeons… He's in the dungeons… He was making a successful job, until he stumbled over something and smashed down on his stomach. All the air left his lungs and he lay on the floor, gasping for oxygen, tears swelling from his eyes because he couldn't move.

Desperately angry, he made a difficult effort to roll around to see where he had staggered. And was greeted with something so weird and disgusting he couldn't believe his eyes.

Gregory Goyle molesting a panic-stricken Argus Filch on the floor.

"Get off me boy!" Filch was screaming, however efficiently locked under Goyle's noticeable weight. "Get off me! This is highly inappropriate! I will give you detention, do you hear me?"

Goyle only smiled and tried to kiss Argus. "You're so cute when you're angry, Ficlhie."

Harry gagged, which made him feel even more out of oxygen.

"Mr. Goyle, I will not tolerate this! I am a respectable member of the staff and will not… mmf!"

Harry gagged again, seeing how Goyle pressed his tiny mouth against Filch's and kissed him.

"Mmmf, get off me this bloody second, boy!" Filch screamed again. "Help! Somebody!"

Harry felt how he was little by little gaining the ability to breathe again. Thus he staggered on his knees, holding his stomach and massaging his aching jaw. He wondered if he should do something about Goyle and Filch, when an idea struck him.

"Goyle!" he tried to shout, however his voice still weak and coarse.

But luckily enough, Gregory still heard him. He whirled around, scared, however not letting go of the caretaker.

"Thank Merlin for Potter," muttered Filch.

"Let's make a deal, shall we, Goyle?" Harry smirked. "You tell me the password to the Slytherin dungeons, and I will let you continue with Filch."

Goyle looked very much disturbed, and his puny brains seemed to work hard on the decision.

"Pretty please, Goyle?" Harry tried to smile meekly. "I need to apologize to Draco, you know that. And I'm sure you have some… er… unfinished business with your own… er… conquest here."

Goyle looked down at the squirming Filch and came to a result. "Opulentia."

Harry raised his brow, but did not ask what it meant. He managed to rise on his feet and, taking support from the wall, he proceeded towards the Key Hall.

"Thanks, Goyle. And have fun," he winked back at the Slytherin boy.

"Potter! You cannot do this to me!" whined Filch.

But Harry ignored him.

He had now other things in his mind.

Things like Draco Malfoy and the password to the Slytherin dungeons.

Draco stood there by the fireplace, only in his silky pyjama bottoms. His perfectly muscled arms and chest were outlined by the dim lightning, and Harry was reminded of once certain time in Madame Pomfrey's living room, not so long ago, when they were drinking hot chocolate together. Draco was currently stubbing out a cigarette. Harry felt the urge to ravish the beautiful boy in front of him just there and then.

"Hey, Draco."

The blonde head turned slowly around, and the grey eyes glittered menacingly through the curtain of wet silky hair.

"I was expecting you."

Harry looked a little surprised. "You were?"

"Unfortunately I knew you'd come to apologize again. However I might tell you right away that you're wasting your time."

"Just let me explain."

"You already did, at the balcony. What more there is that you wish me to know?"

Harry scowled. "I just want to make this all right again."

Draco merely laughed. "Guess what, Potter, even a hero like you can't always repair everything."

Harry sighed. "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, you can't possibly understand how bad mental damages I have gotten from Weasley's little revelation tonight. To think, I gave you a kiss without knowing whose lips they actually were that you were wanting to fondle you!"

"I did not want Ron!" Harry yelled. "How can you even come to think something as insane?"

"Well, let me see," Draco mock-thought about the matter, "You kissed him, French kissed him for all I know, and you ask me how I came to think about the idea?"

"It's partly your own fault, Malfoy!" Harry lost his temper. "If you hadn't told Ron that his relationship with Hermione was going badly downwards, he wouldn't have asked me to teach him to kiss! It's your fucking own fault, you see? You just have to be an arrogant and bullying prick all the time, you just couldn't leave Hermione and Ginny issue out of it, now could you? Ron was miserable for heaven's sake, and what are friends for if not helping them…"

"Cut the fucking crap, Potter, I don't want to hear your ranting anymore."

Harry was beyond furious by this point. "That's just sad, because I'm not stopping before you forgive me and take me back!"

Draco sneered at Harry. "Take you back? What on earth are you talking about, Potter?"

Harry walked to Draco and took him from the front of his waistband, pulling him closer. His voice was menacing as he glared at Draco. "I won't let you go, Malfoy. You're just too pretty for that."

Something alike disgust intruded Draco's irises and the blonde raised a hand, slapping Harry across the cheek. "I'm not your whore, Potter."

"I thought you were," Harry growled, not able to help the insulting words that were coming out of his mind.

"Well, you thought wrong," Draco calmly said. "It was the other way around."

Harry lost his temper completely and lunged at Draco. They both fell on the floor, Harry on top of Draco, and soon Draco was pinned under Harry's body.

"Going to rape me now, Potter?" Draco fizzled.

"Don't push your luck," Harry snarled, straddling the Slytherin. "I came here to tell you that you can't walk away from me. I won't let you."

"In case you haven't realized, I don't take orders. I give them. And now I order you to GET THE FUCKING HELL OUT OF HERE!"

Harry grasped Draco's damp hair with his both hands, slamming the Slytherin's head harshly against the green carpet.

"I'm not going anywhere. I won't let you leave me, you fucking bastard," he hissed, and placed a bruising kiss on Draco's lips. He seemed not to be satisfied with that, however, and pulling Draco's hair even more powerfully, forced Draco into a deep French kiss.

Draco's eyes flashed with anger and he bit Harry's tongue. Harry retreated growling.

"Don't you fucking kiss me, you whore," Draco snarled. "Don't ever kiss me again."

Harry spat the blood from his mouth on Draco's bare chest and smirked dangerously. "I can hardly believe you meant what you said, seeing as you're hard against my thigh."

Draco hissed so angrily it would've scared the shit out even from Nagini. "You might be able to make my body response to you, but you won't ever get my heart."

"We'll see about that," Harry breathed. He stared Draco straight in the eye, their noses nearly touching.

"Get the fuck out of here, Potter," Draco sharpened his already sharp gaze. "I fucking hate you."

Harry flinched a little, but didn't let Draco rise from the floor. Not that the Slytherin was even trying anymore, though. He seemed to have settled in verbal battle.

"Do you honestly think I gave a shit about you, that is, other than your pretty ass?" Draco sizzled. "Do you honestly think that I, Draco Malfoy, would let myself fall for some half-blood trash like you? You pathetic wanker, all I ever wanted of you was submission. I wanted to control you. And I bloody fucking well have succeeded, taken that you're now more than begging me to come back! Don't misunderstand me, Potter, I really liked our twisted sex affair, but now it's time to finish it. I have more important things to attend to."

"Such as?" Harry seethed.

"Currently, enjoying your mental disarray," Draco smirked. "That's really what I was set to arrange, you know."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Oh, just some Death Eater secrets, my pretty lover," Draco continued to smirk. "Or did you forget that I'm to become one of them soon?"

Harry let go of Draco's hair and leaned backwards. "You really shouldn't be bragging about things like that, might get you into trouble."

"As if you cared," Draco was slightly put out by the concerned tone that Harry's voice held.

"I do care," was all Harry said.

Draco made an attempt to rise, and Harry let him. Soon, they both were again standing, facing each other in the middle of the Slytherin common room.

"Well, I don't care if you care," Draco grinned maliciously. "I'm not yours to worry about."

"Yes you are," Harry swallowed. "You're mine."

"And where the hell did you get an idea like that?"

"From your eyes, Draco. They can betray you sometimes, you know."

"Go fuck yourself, Potter. And preferably, far away from my eyesight."

Harry scowled again dangerously. "You're being stupid now, Malfoy. Stupid and jealous, and drunk."

"Nothing that you are not."

Sighing, Harry walked to Draco and twined his arms around the pale, furious boy. "I love you. You know I do."

Draco battled inwardly, but didn't let any of it show out.

"Potter, if you once lay those hands on me again, I will have to cut them off. I don't want anything to touch me that have once touched a Weasley. You are disgusting."

"Draco…" Harry pleaded. But to no avail.

Draco grabbed Harry from his wrists, wrenched him apart and began to lead him towards the entrance. Once getting the door open, he took a firm grasp of Harry's jaw and smiled at him creepily.

"One last memory," he said and kissed Harry tentatively, almost lovingly, before pushing him harshly from the jaw, making him fall on his back on the aisle floor.

There were tears in Harry's green eyes.

"Good bye, darling," Draco mocked, before slamming the door firmly shut.

…TBC…

A/N: Votes go for a long fight… But I try not to make it too long… Bear the misery and anger until it is Monday in this story, and you'll be fine. :)