Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.
Thank you to my beta, HPalto87, and hearts to my reviewers!
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17
The twins still lived above their joke shop. As they walked there, Fred and George talked about business, and told him about the odd and horrible customers they occasionally got. Usually Harry would join in with his own stories, and they would laugh about it all, but today his heart just wasn't in it.
On the way, they had to walk past Quality Quidditch Supplies. Harry stopped walking just before they reached it, and, sensing that he was no longer following them, the twins stopped a few moments later. Neither of them knew what to say. Any subject involving Draco seemed like a Bad Idea. Normally, Fred and George were known for ignoring the Bad Idea warning, generally opting to go ahead with an idea just to see what happened. However, when their friend's emotional health was in question, they drew the line.
The door of the shop opened, and Ginny stepped out.
"Are you going to stand there all day, Harry, or are you going to come help us?" she asked.
Harry ignored her question. "Is Draco there?"
"He lost his temper and stormed out a while ago," Ginny replied.
Harry nodded, but didn't move.
"Oi, Gin, let him be!" Fred said to his sister. "He just lost his boyfriend, he doesn't need to be working."
"What he needs is firewhiskey," George chimed in.
Harry found the idea of getting drunk to be quite appealing, and he shrugged at Ginny.
"Don't get him drunk! He can't just avoid his problems," Ginny said.
"You're not his keeper," Fred replied.
"He can get drunk if he wants," George said.
"He didn't even say he wanted to get drunk!" Ginny said.
"I think the situation calls for it," George replied.
"Why doesn't he just- wait, why am I even talking to you?" Ginny said. She turned to Harry. "Why don't you just talk to Draco?"
Harry had been silent for the past few minutes, but he had felt anger building. He didn't want to talk about this, and he certainly didn't want his friends talking for him. It was part of the reason he had left Hermione and Ron in the first place.
"We've been avoiding talking about it for months now!" he said. He knew his anger was probably misdirected, but Ginny, Fred, and George were there, and Harry suddenly felt like ranting. "We've been having problems for a long time. If we weren't, do you actually think I would do what I did? We buried our problems beneath sex, and tried so hard to keep up the facade that we were fine and happy. But our relationship was slowly deteriorating, and neither of us did anything about it, so I guess it just wasn't worth saving. He was making me miserable. Just because it wasn't public until yesterday, doesn't mean it wasn't there before."
People were staring, but Harry just didn't care anymore. Fred, George, and Ginny watched him vent his anger, not sure what to do to help him.
"The point is, we've been avoiding it all this time, there's no reason to stop now!" Harry yelled.
Ginny kicked at a non-existent rock on the street, avoiding Harry's gaze.
"So, you'd rather lose him all together than try to fix this?" Fred asked.
Harry didn't have an answer for him.
---
Flashback
Harry hated the way Draco was watching him. The blonde sat irritably on the edge of the bed, watching Harry pack. His expression was quite unfavorable, and Harry could tell his boyfriend was in a volatile mood.
Harry shoved a pile of robes into the suitcase.
"Aren't you going to fold those?" Draco asked.
Harry shrugged and picked up his elbow and knee pads. Draco rolled his eyes, and took the robes out of the suitcase. He began folding them.
"You don't have to do that," Harry said.
"Yes I do. They're expensive robes, don't get them wrinkled," Draco said, keeping his voice as even as he could considering how his irritation was mounting.
Harry dropped the Quidditch gear and folded one of the robes. "See? I'll do it."
Draco got a self-satisfied look, and Harry put the now-folded robes into the suitcase.
"I know you don't want me to go, but I have to," Harry said. "I want to," he amended.
"I know," Draco said quietly.
"The team is counting on me, and this is a good opportunity. A lot of people never get to travel like this, let alone play their favorite sport in front of thousands of people," Harry said. He was excited about traveling with Puddlemere United, and he wanted Draco to be happy for him too.
"I know," Draco said again.
Harry kissed his boyfriend, slowly and sweetly. When he tried to pull away Draco grabbed onto his hips, and kissed him again. Harry linked his hands behind Draco's neck and deepened the kiss, glad that Draco wasn't being too bitter. He felt Draco's tongue press past his lips, and he began sucking on it.
After a few moments, Harry pulled away. "I have to finish packing. I'm going to be late as it is. I'm sorry, Angel."
He kissed Draco lightly, then pulled away from his embrace.
Harry finished packing and latched the suitcase.
"When will you be back?" Draco asked.
"My last match is the first weekend of August," Harry said. "I'll be back that Monday."
"I'll miss you," Draco said.
"I'll miss you too," Harry said. "I'll owl you, at least once a week. Probably more."
"I will too," Draco said.
"I left the season tickets in the fruit-bowl on the kitchen counter," Harry said. "You'll come to at least one of the games, right?"
"Why is it that we never actually have fruit in that fruit-bowl?" Draco asked.
Harry smiled. "I don't know. But you'll come, right?"
"Yeah, at least one game," Draco promised. "More if I can. It depends on how busy we get at the shop. You know business always picks up during the Quidditch season."
"I know," Harry said. He kissed Draco one last time before stepping into the floo.
"I love you," he said, and then he was gone.
"I love you too," Draco said to the empty space.
---
The Puddlemere team arrived in Irkley late. They all crowded into the small lobby of the inn they would be staying at for a few days. It looked old and unkempt on the outside, but clean and bright inside. A group of house-elves immediately appeared to take their bags.
A door opened on Harry's left, and a tall, business-like woman stepped out, followed by a plump middle-aged man with graying hair. The woman was Marie Perkins, Puddlemere's publicist.
"There you are!" Marie said. She always talked too fast, as if she constantly had too many things to do. "You all have an interview with a local magazine, The Irkley Wizard's Sporting Guide, in half an hour. They'll ask you standard questions, nothing new to you guys. Though they want to spend some extra time with the new seeker- Harry? Where's Harry?" She turned to find him standing behind her. "Oh. They say they want to interview you separately, and I told them not to ask you about the war. This is strictly Quidditch."
The plump man cleared his throat loudly.
"Oh, right. This is Mr. Thomas, the owner of this inn. He'll get your room keys. Two to a room. If you have any problems relating to your rooms or your stay here, go to him. That's his office." She pointed at the door behind her.
"After the interview we're going to meet in that room-" she pointed to a door leading to a meeting lounge on the other side of the office "-to go over the schedule for this week. Go up to your rooms, get settled in, and be back down here in-" she checked her watch "-twenty minutes."
Oliver approached Harry then. "Want to room with me?" he asked.
"Sure," Harry replied.
Oliver smiled, and Harry felt like he could melt. While Oliver got the keys, Deverill approached him. "What's with the goofy grin, Potter?"
"What?" Harry said obliviously. He hadn't realized he was grinning. Oliver motioned for Harry to follow him, and they went up to the room.
---
The team interview went well. The interviewer was a young guy named Nathan, and he was really excited about Quidditch. He asked about strategies, and how confident the team was that they could win the match that weekend. They talked at length about which teams Puddlemere thought were challenging, which teams played the best games, and which teams they thought would make it to the World Cup at the end of the season. Nathan pointed out that Puddlemere had a pretty good chance of taking in the cup.
Harry's personal interview, however, didn't go so well. It quickly became apparent that Nathan wanted to talk to him about more than Quidditch.
"So, you're the new seeker," he began. "The famous Harry Potter."
It wasn't a question, so Harry just nodded.
"How did you get into professional Quidditch, exactly?"
"When I played for Hogwarts, Oliver Wood was my team captain. He owled me a few months ago, asking if I would want to try out," Harry answered.
"What is your favorite part of the game?" Nathan asked.
"Flying, and the thrill of the chase, I guess. When both seekers are going for the snitch it's like…" Harry paused, unsure of exactly where he was going with this. He wished he'd had time to prepare. "Like nothing else matters. It's a very tense moment, but it feels amazing."
"Do you work well with the team?" was the next question.
"Yes, they're all great players," Harry replied.
"What does your boyfriend think of you being on the team?" Nathan asked.
"Draco?" Harry paused. This was not where he was expecting the interview to go. "I would like to keep my relationship with Draco private," he said.
"But does he support you?" Nathan pushed.
"Of course he does," Harry lied.
Nathan backed off the subject then, and moved on to another question that Harry didn't want to answer. "Do you think what happened in your past affects how you play?"
"I, umm… I need you to clarify that question," Harry said. He was pretty sure he knew exactly what Nathan was asking, but he wanted to play stupid for the moment to buy time to think.
"The war must have been a traumatic experience. Do you find that the memory of those events ever get in the way of your concentration, for example?" Nathan clarified.
"You're not supposed to ask me about the war," Harry said coldly.
"But this is in regards to how well you play," Nathan argued.
"My whole life has been affected by the war. Quidditch is actually an escape from all of that," Harry responded. "To answer your question, when I am on the pitch, I am thinking only about the game."
It became obvious that Harry wouldn't cooperate with this line of questioning any longer, and Nathan opted to end the interview. He thanked Harry, and left.
---
The article appeared the day of the match. It told more about Harry than he had given at the interview. It looked as if Nathan had gone digging to find dirt on Harry. The only negative information he could get was that his boyfriend had been a Death Eater, but the couple had made a public statement on the issue years ago. It wasn't any sort of new scandal, and Harry hoped that the over-zealous interviewer had given up so he wouldn't have to hear from him again.
As for the game, Puddlemere won, 390 to 140.
