Evocation 03

• Drowning •

Draco's mood had changed from venom to silk, like flipping a light switch. There were still buried signs of contempt, but his mood had changed instantly.

"Mother," Draco said, effectively cutting off whatever it was Narcissa had been about to say. "I've heard talk."

"Talk?" she snapped back. "And I would have thought that you wouldn't listen to rumors, I've raised you better than that."

Harry could hear her moving, then the blankets sliding across the bed as she stood. He could imagine exactly what she looked like, holding the dark silk sheets to her body, it had been burned into his memory after seeing it so many times.

"Are you denying that you're having an affair with a man?" Draco asked, trying to catch her off guard.

Of course Narcissa would have none of it. Harry smiled, thinking about her quick wit, the snappish thing she might say in return, but there was silence for a minute, something that rarely came from her when she was angry, like now. She did respond, but it was careful words, chosen as to not bring further anger from Draco. "Your father has been dead for well over five years now, it is hardly an affair."

Draco gagged and Harry wondered why she hadn't just lied, denying it had ever happened. The only people who knew of it would not talk, he was sure of that. Harry didn't lay his trust lightly, not anymore, and he trusted everyone to keep silent.

The next words Draco spoke were laced with venom that even Draco rarely had. "And who is it you're having this liaison with?" he demanded.

"That is none of your concern," Narcissa replied, returning to her normal snappish self. He could hear clothing from the closet rustling, and knew she was getting dressed, probably just pulling down a robe to wear until Draco left. "You've grown old enough to take care of your own interests, and I am old enough to take care of mine."

"Obviously not well enough mother. You've grown careless, allowing me to discover of your little escapades with other men."

"You assume too much," she snapped back. "There's hardly been more than one man in my bed. Unlike your father he treats me with respect. He's also proved himself both capable and enduring enough to be worthy of my attentions. He was even willing to compromise and sacrifice, something your father would never understand."

Harry knew what she was talking about when she said that. It wasn't just the sex that was the reason he was still there. There had been some things about him that had continued to degrade after the war, and she'd found him at one of his lowest points.

•

"So I'm invited over tonight?" Harry whispered in Narcissa's ear, at the party they were attending. She'd flirted around him like a snack that he couldn't touch for an hour already, toying with his emotions. It felt odd that she practically ignored him, just being close enough that it caught his attention. This was the first time in the night he'd been able to slip close enough, with few enough people around, that he could whisper in her ear.

Somehow Harry had dealt with the facts of their relationship, that it was nothing but a series of sexual encounters, very good sexual encounters. They didn't date, they didn't visit other than the nightly romps, in fact, they rarely saw each other anywhere else unless they happened to attend the same party together. However, Harry only went where there was good reason, and anymore he was having fewer and fewer reasons. Yet, he still attended, in hopes that Narcissa would invite him over at some point during the secret flirting that went on between them.

Harry was glad to see her smile, but noticed that it was to a person that had passed by, a high ranking ministry official Harry recognized. He frowned as the man passed, looking surprised at him. Still, the man continued on past Harry. Narcissa adjusted herself in the lineup they were standing in and Harry felt her hand slip around his slowly, squeezing slightly.

The hand moved forward, removing the goblet from his hand. It was half filled with Firewhisky. She stepped away, placing it on a table, and then fading away into the back room. Harry followed as soon as he realized what she was doing.

Minutes later, with a grin on his face, Harry approached Narcissa in a hallway where she was hidden. He moved closer, trying to kiss her. Normally he wouldn't do something so forward in public, but at the moment he was feeling very good and didn't give a damn about everyone else.

She shied away.

Unsure why she was responding in such a way, Harry pulled back. He had never forced himself on someone, nor would he. It did cause him to rethink what he was doing, and his confidence faded. Underneath the face schooled in emotion he felt rage building up. "Can't be seen with me?" he whispered fiercely.

"Hardly," she said, laughing at his display of emotion. "I refuse to be with you in such a state. So, I have made a decision, if I am to be with you, you won't be allowed to continue drinking."

Her eyes traveled from Harry's to the light down the hall where the party was still going on. "You're a drunk Harry," she said once her eyes had returned to his own. "... and a slob because of it. It's been progressing slowly, and you're becoming less of a man than my husband was."

"I am not a drunk!" Harry said, bordering on too loud. It attracted attention in their direction and Narcissa shook her head, slipping out of the room quickly, refusing to be seen with him. Harry stared at the wall that she'd been leaning up against, angry. The moment she'd mentioned her husband it had made Harry choke inside, she had never once mentioned him since the first time. He growled and then banged his head into the wall before following her further into the back.

She was waiting in the same room where they'd originally met. She'd found a seat in a chair, alone, waiting for Harry to come to her.

However, she ignored him when he entered, sipping her drink a little at a time. Her eyes stayed closed, a good tactic for avoiding looking at someone, and one Harry knew well. He understood what she was doing, casting him out, and he was getting even madder because of it.

"So that's it?" Harry asked, loudly, not really caring if someone else heard. "We get together, you get your jollies, then tell me to leave?" he paused, awaiting some sort of response from her, but nothing came. As scathingly as possible he continued. "Any other woman would be happy to be with me, the savior of the world." He said sarcastically. "I still have to tell them to leave me alone, so I know that I'm not a dying trend."

When Narcissa opened her eyes he could see their anger, and he stopped talking, unsure what he'd said.

"Yes," she said smoothly, holding back the rage he could see. "Any other woman would bow before you. The wonderfully strong Harry Potter. He saved the world, and therefore is the popular thing. They'd probably even accept your drunkenness just to be with you. I find this sickening, that you presume me to be a fan-girl, the sort of woman that always dreamed of being with you. I never wanted that. You're great fun, but growing more difficult by the week. This drinking is becoming disgusting. Mark my words, I'm not a little girl chasing after you for your beautiful smile and the fame you've gained."

"No, just the sex." Harry snapped.

A cruel smiled covered the anger completely. "You seem to have enjoyed it."

"It wasn't bad," Harry said.

"Then I'm sure you can find a better replacement. As I said before, I won't be with a drunk."

That was all she had to say, she stood again. As she passed by Harry, her hand touched the side of his face gently, like a soft kiss, and then she let go, disappearing out the door. Another of her erotic manipulations, at least to Harry.

He stared at the drink she'd left, Then, hating himself, he stepped forward and lifted it to his lips, gulping the last of it. As it touched the table he stared at his reflection in a window, his eyes blazing. "It doesn't matter," he told the person in the window. "I'll find someone else to replace her easily enough."

It had been the truth, in a way. He could find someone to replace her. In fact, two nights later he way awake, staring at the dark ceiling of some woman he'd only met a few hours before. She was rolled up against him, sleeping quietly. There was something that was missing though, a satisfaction that wasn't there. He felt used and it hadn't even been that great.

Turning, he pulled away from the woman and crawled out of the bed, looking for the ice box. The woman was muggle born and had a lot of muggle items in her house. He pulled a clear bottle out and stared at it for a minute before sighing and closing the fridge, bottle still in his hand.

After searching the cabinets for a minute he gave up looking for any sort of glass. He unscrewed the cap and took a good swig of the alcohol. He sputtered when his head started to swim immediately.

"Harry?" a voice said softly and Harry turned to see the beautiful brunette standing stark naked in the doorway. Harry blinked, but didn't say or feel anything. He picked up the bottle again, taking another drink, ready for the strength. The girl stepped forward, swaying erotically, or at least trying to. Harry didn't see anything erotic about it and for a brief moment he began to compare her to Narcissa. Angry at himself, he slammed the bottle onto the cabinet and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her, then bent over to kiss her sloppily. Of course, she responded, but he had a good idea why.

A few hours later he stumbled from the apartment with the bottle in his hand. She'd fallen asleep again, but he hadn't, he'd just stared at the dark ceiling until he couldn't stand it anymore.

Another three days later he woke in a dark alley, in a place he didn't recognize or remember stumbling into. It had happened occasionally when he'd been too drunk to apparate home or even remembered where it was. Someone passed by and he pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, trying to keep from being seen. Another person passed by, mumbling something about drunks and Harry cringed, hating to hear the words.

Harry stood, keeping the cloak tightly wrapped around him, and peered at the waking streets of Hogsmeade. Closing his eyes, he apparated to the flat he had purchased.

Luna was there, waiting for him. She was asleep on the couch, where she had been spending more and more time. Still, she woke up when he apparated in. Even if it didn't make much noise, Luna had always had a magical sense that was well above anyone else's Harry knew.

"You've returned," she said sighing. "I hadn't heard from you in a few days, so I thought I'd check on you. You weren't home, so I waited around."

"Am I a drunk?" Harry asked, tears in his eyes. If there was one thing in his life that he could rely on, it was Luna's honesty. She frowned at him and opened her mouth, then closed it again. She sighed.

"Harry, some of the things that happened, they're hard to deal with."

Confused that Luna had avoided answering the question, Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Luna wouldn't let him. She continued on. "The things we did, the things we saw, the people we lost… no one blames you for using alcohol to drown away the pain. I hate to see you like this though, loosing your life to the bottle you've found solace in."

Cautiously she moved forward to Harry until she was right in front of him she looked right into his eyes and sighed again. "Yes Harry, you're a drunk."

Harry whimpered and sank to his knees in front of Luna. "She won't have me anymore," he said tears finally trickling down his face. "She said she won't stay with me if I'm going to stay a drunk."

"Then she has more willpower than I do." Luna said. "I could never leave you Harry. You're my brother, and I'll never give up on you."

"Even if I'm a drunken loser?"

"Even if you're a drunken loser."

Taking his arm, Luna pulled him to his feet. "You need to sleep it off, maybe get something to eat before though, I can't let you waste away completely."

Harry stumbled into his bedroom, brushing away the tears as he did. They were almost gone now, and he felt as if he'd cried all of them away, that there were no more tears to come, nothing more to cry about. He fell flat on his bed and crawled under the sheets, breathing heavily.

When he awoke again he found Luna had stripped him of his clothing and put him to bed properly. He closed his eyes and sighed, he was becoming a mess.

Standing slowly, Harry saw a small vial sitting in his dresser next to a plate of food. A small note on it stated it was a pepper up potion mixed with a hangover draught, something to help him get over the feelings he was no doubt going to have.

He stared at the food and the potion next to it, then looked away. It was best if he lived with the headache. He did finally step forward and take a piece of the bread. He showered, washing himself roughly, trying to grind out the pain that he was going to have to endure.

That night, as he stepped onto her doorstep he'd made up his mind. He didn't know if he should be there, they'd always spoken before he came over, and it had been five days since they'd even spoken.

He knocked softly and an elf answered the door again. Its eyes widened when it saw him, and it bowed politely. "The mistress is saying if you is coming you is to know that she is not making compromises."

Harry nodded. He knew her well enough to know that she would be like that – that for her it was all or nothing.

"Then the mistress is wanting you to know she is happy to have you back."

Harry was glad to hear it.

• Edited 2004.11.08 •