Hi, this is the fourth part of The Last Straw – hope you all enjoy.

I will try to post on Saturday as well. Thanks to everyone who reviewed.

Lyonessheart – You've got to get complex to make it entertaining! Harry definitely deserves it, anyway. As for a happy ending – I think I can manage that!!

JadedRoses – I hate him too! He's based on an acquaintance of mine, so that's probably why.

Dea puella – They are meant to be I'll agree – and fluff always wins in the end!!

Justxme – Draco called Harry. Draco's in denial. Here's the update.

Fiery Pheonix – Why do we act the way we do? Who knows? What will Harry say when he sees them? Read on and find out.

A/N Still not mine (mmmm…Draco!)

I have revised this chapter somewhat since it was first posted.

Repercussions

"Hello?"

"Hey Harry, just needed to hear your voice."

"Did you? I – I can't change my mind Drake, I thought I made that much clear."

"I know, sweetheart, but I realised I didn't… I love you, so much. Please come home."

The words play in a constant loop.

Like a broken record, stuck forever on a single, defining track.

His mind has ceased to function.

His body is frozen in time.

And there, on the tip of his tongue, they remain - The words he should have spoken.

'I love you'

"Harry"

'I love you, too. Draco'

"Harry!"

He blinks. Again.

Looks down at his right hand, still gripping the receiver even though it is back on the hook. And back toward Hermione.

"Who was it?"

"…Draco."

"…And what did he say?"

Harry could still here it repeating in his head. He tried to remember exactly what had occurred…

Harry's heart rate increased at the sound of Draco's voice, only to rise further with his words.

"Hey Harry, just needed to hear your voice."

'Not as much as I needed to hear yours.'

"Did you? I – I can't change my mind Drake, I thought I made that much clear."

'But I can't let him know the truth – I've already hurt him enough.'

"I know, sweetheart, but I realised I didn't… I love you, so much. Please come home."

'It's too late. I can't risk- What!?! What did he just say?? He- I- Oh my…'

…Harry had been unable to comprehend Draco's words.

Even now, his mind was jammed with thousands of different emotions, all battling for supremacy.

But, cutting across his internal civil war, becoming louder and clearer with every second, was one precise thought.

'He loves me'

'He loves me'

A hand came down on his shoulder, soothing.

"Sweetie, what did he say?"

"He loves me." Harry whispered, forgetting everything but the simple joy those words brought him.

"Pardon?"

"He loves me!" He grabbed her shoulders, "He loves me, Hermione. He loves me!"

The two friends beamed at each other, before sharing a long hug.

"I hate to say it, Harry, but I told you so!" Harry chuckled.

"He loves me. Wow."

"Yes, Harry, he loves you."

"And he phoned me 'Mione. He's never made the effort to phone before."

"I know sweetie. It's because he loves you."

"Yes, he does."

Harry's face started to droop as reality caught up with him.

"He loves me and I split up with him for no good reason and then slam the phone down on him. I am such a selfish bastard."

"Harry!"

"Well, I've been whining about hurting him and, at the first chance I get to make it up to him, I go and hurt him all over again. I mean, I didn't even respond to his declaration. I just hung up. Great way to show him how much I care."

"What do you mean you just hung up?" Hermione was, once again, confused. She was quite unused to and upset about all this uncertainty. She turned back to Harry. "Well?"

Harry paused, swallowing.

"After he told me he loved me, I froze. I don't know what came over me but I hung up the phone. It was like I needed to get rid of it, subconsciously. Like I knew – that it was too good to be true….Or something. I don't really know anymore."

He turned a sad, beseeching face towards Hermione, who held his gaze but remained silent.

"Well?" He asked

"Well, what?"

"What should I do?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Harry James Potter. You are not an imbecile, so do not act like one."

Harry pondered a few moments.

"So I should…."

She looked ready to explode, which she did.

"Clearly, you should get yourself over to his flat. Right now." He didn't move.

"Go!" She visibly shooed him away

He looked himself over.

"Not before I've taken a shower and shaved."

"What!?! Just wash quickly and throw some clothes on. Draco will be more than pleased to see you, especially if you say 'I'm sorry for being a prat. I'm completely in love with you, too!'"

"Draco will not be pleased if I turn up looking and smelling like I do now."

"He loves you, Harry, remember. He-"

"Hermione, have you ever met Draco? Are we talking about the same person? Because the Draco that I know would not even admit me into his home unless I was neat and clean. Seriously, he's quite unyielding about things like that. And he's almost unsoilable – you rarely ever see him rumpled or tousled, even."

'Except on specific occasions!' Harry chuckled to himself, smiling fondly.

"That may be true Harry, but you are wasting precious time." His smile drooped.

"If you're going to get ready properly, knowing you, that's another half hour gone. Will you apparate?"

"Probably not. I can't apparate to the street outside, obviously, and I'd rather not appear uninvited into his home. I think I'll take the tube and then I can knock politely."

"Okay, well that's another twenty or thirty minutes. You're going to leave him hanging on for another hour? That's hardly going to garner any feelings of forgiveness he might've had."

"But if I go like this, he might just decide I'm not his type and kick me to the curb anyway."

"I severely doubt that, Harry. Seriously, though, a moment ago you were suicidal over this, and now you're worried about him not liking your tie? Lasting relationships are not built on foundations as wobbly as that, assuming that's what you want."

"It is what I want. You're right, of course, but- well, he's really particular about appearance."

"Fine, I give in. Since you will insist on being anally retentive when it comes to Draco," she smiled and patted him on the shoulder, "you do what you think is best."

"Thanks 'Mione!" He ran to the bathroom, completely missing the insult.

She began to tidy up the wrecked room.

"I don't know why I bother. Drama-queens, the lot of them…."

…Twenty minutes later, a new personal best, Harry stepped out of his room fully dressed, and finished his hair in the living room mirror.

"Well?" He gestured at himself to Hermione.

"Stunning, as always, dearest."

He picked up his coat and keys and looked to the door.

"Shall we?"

"You have your travel card?"

"Yep."

"Get him some flowers, as well."

"Okay."

She kissed his cheek.

"Break a leg, Harry."

"I just might, knowing Draco."

… There were no delays on the underground, so, even with a pit stop at the florist near the station, Harry made it to Draco's North-London flat in twenty minutes. He had jogged from the nearest tube station, which, combined with his nerves, made him slightly out of breath by the time he reached the door. Thankfully, the roses were unharmed.

He knocked, once. Twice.

No answer.

He knocked again.

Nothing.

"Draco? Are you there?"

What if he was hurt or unable to get to the door?

"Draco? Are you okay?"

He still had his key.

'And Draco may be unable to cry out for help'

He turned the lock and stepped inside.

The devastation was immediately apparent - Items lay all over the floor, clothes in piles, drawers emptied.

Harry thought his first suspicions had been correct. The house looked ransacked.

'Draco!' He dashed through the flat, checked everywhere for his possibly injured or unconscious boyfriend.

'Oh god, I hope he's alright.' He thought, pausing for breath.

It was then that he noticed the empty bottles, scatter randomly amongst the debris. The empty crystal goblets littering the antique coffee table. And it hit Harry.

'Draco's been drinking. Heavily. He's not even tidied anything up.'

'He's been like me – trying to get lost.'

He was absolutely mortified and ashamed. His selfishness had driven his lover to this.

He needed to find Draco. Now.

Turning on his heel, Harry left the apartment, quickly. He ran out into the street and stopped, looking around.

'If I was Draco, where would I go?'

Harry knew that, thanks to apparition, Draco could be anywhere in the country, but experience told him that he was nearby.

He decided to scour around the town, until he found him. He owed Draco that much, at least.

…Harry was running out of ideas fast. He had spent the last six hours searching around the area. He'd been to all of their favourite haunts – cafes, shops and he'd even managed to check the audience of the current showing of the last film they had seen together at the local cinema. He'd only visited part of the park, knowing that Draco liked to go there sometimes, but it was so big that there was no way he'd find him if he'd wandered into the woodland area.

'I must look like a complete lunatic, running around like a headless chicken, carrying a bunch of half decimated flora.'

The roses were actually in pretty good shape, considering the trek they'd survived.

'Well, they won't need to last much longer – there's nowhere else to go. Except. I haven't checked the local bars. He might decide to stay out for a drink, tonight.'

So, Harry resolved to have a solo bar-crawl, the formation of strategy improving his mood quite considerably….

… 'Well,' he thought, 'That was a complete waste of time.'

Twelve bars and four drinks later, another personal best, Harry was seriously low on options. Ahead of him lay his last hope – The Hollow - Draco and his primary drinking establishment. Harry had thought that Draco would avoid this particular bar as he had done, mostly because of the memories it held for them both- He knew he would not be able to forget Draco here.

'But I don't want to forget him, so that's okay. Perhaps drink myself to depression thinking about him and then stumble back to his flat and fall asleep outside his door. Then, tomorrow, I'll beg for forgiveness and a hangover potion. Perhaps not the wisest choice.'

By now, he had reached the door of the bar.

He looked heavenward for a moment, sending silent prayers for Draco to be there.

As he stepped inside, one look at the bar told him his wish had been granted.

'Beautiful.' The only thought Harry could manage.

The love of his life was sitting only a few metres away, blonde hair shimmering in the neon lights emanating from the DJ box, laughing at something Jake, the barman, had said. Harry had never seen a more welcome sight.

Draco laid his head onto the bar, seemingly seeking to compose himself.

'See. It's obvious he's hurting too. Go and make him better.'

Harry calmed his nerves and started to make his way over.

But someone beat him to it.

He saw the newcomer – a tall, brunette in an expensive suit – lean over Draco and pay for his drink.

'They must know each other.' Harry reasoned, 'From work or something.'

When he looked again, however, he saw the two were holding hands, the other man seemingly caressing Draco's skin.

Harry's heart dropped to his stomach.

'I did this.' He thought to himself. 'I pushed him away and now I've lost him for good.'

Still, his first instinct was to rush over and stand between them, perhaps deliver a swift kick to the man's- Ah, yes, well I doubt Draco would appreciate that course of action.

He watched Draco drain his drink and be led onto the heaving dance floor. For some reason – sadomasochistic tendencies, thought Harry -, He slid into the nearest seat he could find, conveniently hidden somewhat in shadow, and watched as his heart crumbled.

The fast pace of the beat meant, thankfully, that the two men danced a bit apart. Harry's world decreased until all it consisted of was himself and the writhing blonde on the dance floor. Draco's dancing had always had this effect on him. Even now, in his current situation, he could feel desire pooling in the pit of his stomach.

Halfway through the song, Draco seemed to come alive. It was such a sight that Harry almost had to look away to prevent himself from jumping onto the dance floor.

The song changed. A slower, more sensual beat floated through the bar. The new man placed his hands on Draco's hips, guiding them closer until they were pressed together, moving as one.

Anger rose in Harry, even though he knew it was no longer his place. He still couldn't bear the thought of anyone but him touching his Draco in that manner. Even though it was only seconds of contact, the ire forming his already lust-addled brain was almost enough to break Harry's resolve.

When, at long last it seemed, Draco stepped away from the man towards the bar, Harry took that moment to breathe and calm down. But the feelings were still there. He still wanted to rip that intruder limb from limb. He realised he was glared pointedly at a complete stranger contemplating how to painfully torture him. He relaxed slightly, but refused to shift his look.

The man followed Draco and touched his shoulder – an entirely unnecessary act, in Harry's opinion -, obviously entreating him to accompany the man to another location. After a brief chat with Jake, Draco stood, linked the man's arm in his own and proceeded towards the exit.

It was all too much to take in.

Harry saw red.

A/N ohhh What will happen! Will Harry finally get a backbone!?! Ah the anticipation…..