A/N: Chapter 12 peeps!
'Dirty Work'
Tipsy at the Three Broomsticks
Within the next two days, the news about the beloved Harry Potter's return was milked one by one by each newspaper, talk show reporter and journalist. It was the talk of the town, and the entire wizarding world was in such an uproar that it was hard for Harry to just come out of the hotel he was now staying in. Even walking inside his suite was dangerous.
He checked in at the nearest hotel after his encounter with Draco and Hermione, and was seen by at least twenty wizards and witches. The Ministry got wind of this, and found that it was okay to expose him, since he freely walked the streets. Paparazzi zoomed around wanting to take pictures of him and reporters wanted interviews but Harry refused to talk to anybody.
Including Hermione.
She tried contacting him every free minute she had. She dialed the hotel number leaving message after message, sent him owl after owl and even tried getting through the thick crowd that surrounded the hotel. It was impossible, of course, and she could not get near him at all. Not even if he wanted to see her.
Ron and Parvati cut there honeymoon short when they received the news from Hermione. She had looked a little distraught when she told them, and Ron could only guess why, but she had not told them what happened. The next day, Ron and Parvati were packed and off by floo network, returned safely home. Ron interrogated her after Parvati left her flat.
"What's wrong then?" he asked her, concerned by her state. "I thought you would be gushing over him by now. Making wedding plans and all that." he told her.
Hermione sighed and looked down to the ground. "Have you seen him, Ron?" she asked.
Ron smiled happily. "Just this morning. Hard to floo over there since they've barricaded his fireplace, but I owled him telling him to let me through 'cause I'd be visiting."
"He answered your owl?" Hermione asked.
"Of course he did, he's my best mate," Ron said with a shrug. "We had a grand old time. Crying on each other's shoulder. Very un-manly but, hey, I hadn't seen the guy in a while." he smiled again, and Hermione half heartedly chuckled.
"Did he answer all your questions then?" Hermione asked, wanting to avoid answering his.
"He didn't have too. I read it all in the Prophet."
Hermione nodded and turned away from him. She bent over to pick up a magazine lying on her side table but Ron had quickly pulled it away from her.
"So are you going to tell me what's wrong? Or why you haven't been at work?" he prodded.
Hermione sighed, knowing she couldn't hide her mood any longer. If Ron knew, he might be as mad as Harry was, and begin to give her the cold shoulder like Harry. Hermione had no idea what to do, especially since Draco didn't bother to try and talk about their situation, and Harry would not speak to her.
"You know what's wrong," she admitted sullenly. "And you know why I haven't been at work."
Ron looked at her a little puzzled and then looked liked he understood for a moment. Then, he shrugged and walked over to her.
"You tell me, Hermione."
She blinked back tears. "Harry's found out."
"Found out... about what?" he asked, although Hermione guessed he already knew.
"About me. About me and Draco. He's so angry," she whined, trying but failing to stop the tears from tumbling down. Ron patted her back.
"When was this?"
"The day I found out he was still alive... Oh God, I was an idiot. Draco just came in and everything went downhill from there..." her voice cracked when she said the rest of it.
"I was so happy one minute to see him, and then so angry the next when I saw Draco... and we've been so good together for a while..." she trailed off, as Ron continued to sooth her. He let her continue. "...but now I don't know. I love Harry. But I was falling in love with Draco... they're both so upset!" she exclaimed in a high pitched, sad voice.
"What am I to do?" she whined.
"Don't worry," Ron cooed, hugging her very tightly. "Harry is upset, but you two will work it out sooner or later... but you have to talk to Draco, and tell him what's going through your head. It's unfair to him to have all of this on his plate."
Hermione pulled away from him, nodded, and kissed his cheek. "Thank you," she said meaningfully. Ron hugged her tightly once more.
"Promise me you will talk to Draco?" he asked her, while holding her tightly by the shoulders. He never broke his gaze from hers.
"I promise," she stated, with a weak smile.
"Good," he told her, as he loosened his tight grip on her. Ron snatched a glimpse at his watch. "I think I should go. Mrs Parvati Weasley has my late lunch ready." Hermione smiled.
"Like the sound of it, huh?"
"Love it. I'll talk to Harry after, okay? I'll try and reason with him."
"Okay, Ron. Thank you for being such a great friend."
He turned to look at her, and smiled a Weasley smile. "Any day."
"Hey there, mate," Ron said, unannounced, as he bounced out of Harry's fireplace. Harry looked up unexpectedly from a book he was reading on the couch, and smiled, while putting it down. He walked over to Ron, gave him a hug around the shoulders, and let go, as he walked over to the fireplace.
"Nice to see you again," Harry said, as he took out his wand. "Where've you been?" he asked, as he began muttering a spell that barricaded the fireplace with steal plates.
"Taking serious precautions there, mate," Ron said amusingly, as he sat himself down on a chair. "I just came back from late lunch with Parvati. She's coming by to see you tomorrow."
"I'm looking forward to that," he said, as he went over to his refridgerator and pulled out a jug of butterbeer. "Want a cup?" Ron nodded.
"So how's married life treating you?" he asked kindly as he pulled out two cups for him and Ron.
"It's treating me great, actually. Parvati and I haven't fought once." he said proudly.
"Good for you," Harry said, completely meaning it. "How was the honeymoon in Germany?"
"Perfect. Moonlit walks on the beach; tours to it's oldest historic landmarks; endless hours in bed together watching the sun come up... it was beautiful," he said, with a twinkle in his eye. He was obviously remembering his very good time over there.
Harry smiled sheepishly. "Sorry you had to cut it short because of me. I could have waited to see you."
Ron looked at him with fake hurt. "Thanks a lot, mate. I feel real special now. Besides, I couldn't." Harry smiled warmly at him.
"So what's this I hear about a spat between you and our dear Hermione?" Ron asked, quickly changing the subject with added amusement. Harry's attitude changed as he scowled while pouring Ron the butterbeer he wanted.
"She told you then?"
"Before my late lunch with Parvati, yeah," Ron said. "And she's not too happy about it."
Harry scowled even more. "And you think I am?"
"Actually, I don't think any of you are."
Harry continued to scowl.
"...So what did she tell you?" he asked, while giving Ron his drink. Ron sipped on it a little bit before answering.
"Nothing she wouldn't tell you - " he said, while giving his friend a very concerned look, " - if you would let her talk to you." Harry sighed exasperatedly.
"Why? And let her explain how she's been off with Malfoy while I've been away? That would kill me, Ron, you know that." Ron went up to him and leaned on his kitchen counter.
"She would tell you how she was feeling and try to sort things out. Hermione's been really down and she just wants to explain." Harry went silent, and poured himself his own cup of butterbeer. He looked away from Ron and strode over to the couch, where he plumped himself down, careful not to spill the butterbeer.
"Have you spoken to Malfoy?" Ron snorted.
"I don't talk to the bloke every day. Sure, I say hello when we come across each other; maybe even ask how he's doing, but we're just asking to be nice." This time, Harry snorted.
"So. He's really changed then?" he said this in an unconvinced tone.
"He's still a cocky bastard, but he's nice. Really."
"Nice how?" he continued to ask.
"Nice like... greeting everyone that he sees... being polite with everyone that talks to him... treating Hermione like he loves her." Ron nudged Harry hard in the stomach after saying this. His eyes widened to a large 'O.'
"He loves her?" Harry asked, incredulous and angry.
"Think he does, mate."
"How the hell did that happen?" He bellowed. "I've been with Hermione for two years, and they're together for... a month, and he loves her?"
"I'm telling you, I think. You'd have to ask him yourself." Ron said to him calmly.
"He has no right to think that he loves her!"
"He doesn't?" Ron asked testily, as he set his butterbeer aside. "He's changed, Harry. He has. And whether you like it or not, he has real feelings for Hermione. This isn't her fault, or his. Not even yours, for that matter. But come on, talk to Hermione about this. Just do it." he pled.
"Why is everyone on his side?" Harry asked dejectedly, while swirling his butterbeer around with a straw.
"I'm not on anybody's side, mate. I just want you to clear things up with Hermione, and talk to Draco about what's going on, maybe."
Harry looked down, disappointed and asked quietly, "...Does she love him?" Ron, not expecting the question, twiddled his fingers around, not knowing whether or not to answer. He was the messenger, and he didn't know exactly how his best friend would take it if he told him that he thought she did.
"Listen, mate - "
"You know, what? Nevermind. I should go." Harry got up abruptly and slammed his butterbeer down on the kitchen counter.
Ron, surprised, stood up as well. "And where are you going?"
Harry stopped midway to the door, and slowly picked up his coat that hung from a coat hanger. He slid it on easily and turned around to face Ron, an indifferent yet determined sort of look on his face.
"I think I want something else other than butterbeer."
Ron opened his mouth to stop him, but his words were useless. Harry went over to the door in three short strides and swung it shut, a sad noise reverberating throughout the room. He was gone before Ron could even tell him what he really thought.
After Ron's visit, Hermione spent the rest of the next hour (and a few more) puckering up the courage to go to Draco's home and talk to him. Ron had told her to sort things out with him; tell him how she felt, and she found that it was all she could do right now to resolve her situation at least a little bit.
She took heavy steps toward his oaken double doors, his manor giving off an eery glow in the early night. It was five o'clock but the sky's were already grey and she already felt like she was out late. She couldn't go back though; she had come this far, and no way was Hermione going to waste three hours of sucking up all her courage.
Sooner than Hermione had expected, she was already right in front of his manor doors, shivering in the spring cold. She clapped her hands and rubbed them together, before taking the knocker of a snake, and banging it three loud times.
The doors sprung open by themselves with no one inside to greet her. She looked down instinctively, expecting to see a house elf, but not one was there. She looked around worriedly, and took a few steps inside. The doors swung shut behind her, and the noise echoed in the manor that sent chills up her spine.
"...Hello? Anybody home?" Hermione asked shyly, as she began walking around. Her words bounced off the walls.
"Um... Draco?" She called out, to no one in particular. It was still empty.
To her surprise, she heard the click clack of black suede shoes on the marble steps of Draco's winding stairs. She looked up to thankfully see him, clutching a book tightly in one hand, the other sliding down the staircase mantle, as he jogged down. She smiled at him.
"Good evening, Draco," she said formally, as she stood on her spot. He smiled at her half heartedly.
"Nice to see you, Hermione," he said, as he made it all the way down the steps. He leaned on the wall as Hermione looked around the empty manor.
"Where are all the elves?"
"They're somewhere in the house... they don't except a pay but they do like breaks. They're probably having evening tea."
"Oh... I see," Hermione said mostly to herself, as she took a step towards him. "And where were you?"
"Upstairs, doing my evening reading," he shrugged. "What are you doing here?"
"I came here to talk to you," she admitted with a sigh. "About what happened the other day..."
"You don't have to explain anything, Hermione," he said, with a sad look, "You're probably very confused right now, since your fiance is back, but you don't have to explain. This isn't your fault at all."
"That's very kind of you," Hermione said, "but I just wanted to tell you something..."
"Oh?" Draco said, "What's that?"
"I just... I don't know where I am right now, do you understand that, Draco?" She asked softly. "I'm in two different places... I can't pick between which one I want to be in." Draco nodded stiffly, as he watched her back away.
"You're right. This isn't anyone's fault. And I just... want to take some time off." she confessed.
"Time off? Off of what? Us?" he asked her, very upset.
"Us?" Hermione repeated to him, with a skeptical look. Suddenly, anger began to bubble inside her. "There never was an us." Draco looked at her incredulously. Hermione continued to glare at him, however.
"You sent Harry off, because you said you were my boyfriend. We hadn't even talked anything about that, Draco! And you just told him when we were catching up on each other's lives! We did not clear anything on that!"
Draco looked at her angrily. "Well, I'm sorry to think that after us kissing, holding hands on the way to the funeral home and confessing our love for each other didn't mean that we were even together in some sort of way!"
Hermione looked at him blankly.
"What did it mean then?" he demanded from her. "Was it just for fun? Was I a rebound after Potter? Tell me the truth, Hermione, not some stupid excuse of taking time off!" he bellowed.
She shook her head sadly from side to side. "But that was the truth. I don't know where I am right now, and I don't know which side to choose. I just need time off, Draco! Time off from the ball damn it! I never meant us!"
He looked at her surprised. "You're quitting?" he asked her.
"I don't want to work on the ball anymore. I'm still attending, but I can't work with you." she stated quietly.
He looked up, blinking his eyes every few seconds. "I don't need this, Hermione," he said hoarsely as he placed his book down on a side table and strode over to the door. He brushed her aside coldly. "Contact me when you know where you stand with Potter - "
He put his coat on while he opened the door. "Fine!" Hermione screamed behind his back.
He looked behind to her, before he shut the door. " - And where you stand with me," he ended, and he slammed it shut.
Harry's head was propped up on his palm in the Three Broomsticks, a firewhiskey before him, half full; and five other glasses completely empty. He spent the last two hours drowning in his self pity and gulping down glass after glass, which at the moment, was the only thing helping him forget about his current situation.
As he downed the firewhiskey before him in one gulp, he looked around the half empty bar which only consisted of young people who weren't at work. They were all clustered around corners away from him, gossiping about him as he could tell, but he couldn't care at the least. Although he may have thrown them dirty glances, they kept on whispering while looking at him; it was quite obvious.
"Another firewhiskey please," he said to the barman who was wiping some of the glasses that were already clean.
"Another? That's six already, mate," he said, using the cup he was holding to fill him another.
Harry waited for it patiently. "I don't care," he stated sullenly.
As he took the drink from the barman, Madam Rosmerta walked out of the back room, carrying a few trays. She placed them down on a tray holder and began arranging napkins around them. She eyed Harry suspiciously.
"Back three days and you're already drinking it up, Potter?"
"Excuse me, Madam Rosmerta, but I think I'm old enough now to do what I wish." he said, rather rudely. She backed off with an offended look.
"Don't lose yourtrousers boy, I'm just saying so. Anymore and you won't be able to even apparate to your hotel."
"I don't see the point, as reporters are probably in there searching it. Glad they have no idea I'm here," he said with a slurred tone. He was indeed, a little drunk at this point. It may have been six glasses, but he still knew how to hold his liquor.
"Well, I'm sure not telling anybody you're here," said Madam Rosmerta in a convincing tone, "I don't want any riots or screaming crowds in hear unless they wanna buy my drinks."
"Thanks, Madam Rosmerta," he said, while taking a gulp. "I don't need anyone bothering me right now," Harry added, in his slurred voice. She nodded, and began wiping glasses like the barman, trying to occupy herself with duties around the bar.
Harry took a few more sips and putit down with his hands over him, trying to make his heavy head stop hurting from thinking to much about Hermione. He had no idea how things could have gotten so warped right when he returned. He meant it when he told Hermione he hadn't been expecting that. He was expecting a family celebration, a grand time at the ball, where he thought he would be taking Hermione, and maybe even a wedding; the one that they had planned.
But it was clearly obvious that he did not see much of that in the near future, if he continued to picture Hermione and Draco together in his mind. He cursed Draco in his mind. He was taking over Harry's supposed life with Hermione. He was butting into things that he did not deserve to be in; he did not deserve Hermione.
As Harry's head lay down on the counter, the bell rung in the bar to indicate that someone had entered. He didn't bother to look up, knowing it was probably just another passer by of some sort. The only thing he was hoping was that that person didn't bother him, or come up to him.
He heard the person's footsteps click clack on the dirty floor, coming closer and closer to him. He thought he heard the movement of him taking a seat, which must have been near him because he heard his clothing shimmy as he moved on the stool. Harry lifted his head up a fracture to see who it was.
"A firewhiskey please," the person said. Harry's head shot up instantly.
"Comin' right up," said Madam Rosmerta, who sounded a little tight when she spoke. Harry realized why.
Draco sat beside him, only a seat away, apparently eyeing something interesting on the table. He did not see Harry's head buried beneath his arms, his face completely covered. His lips went tight the minute he saw Draco, so smooth and careless, ordering a glass of alcohol. He glared.
"Nice to see you, Malfoy," Harry slurred, when he eyed Draco. He looked up slowly, when he heard the voice, and turned to face Harry, with an uneasy look.
"Potter," he greeted quietly, and then continued to look at the table.
"How's life?" Harry asked, not even really concerned. Draco looked at him surprised, and made a movement to answer.
"Here's your drink, Mister Malfoy," Madam Rosmerta said to Draco, handing him his change and glass as she emerged from the back room. She looked at Harry as if to say "don't do anything stupid," knowing full well that he didn't like Draco at all.
"Um, what were you saying?" Draco asked, once he took the things from Madam Rosmerta. He sat up straighter in his seat.
"I said, 'how's life,'" Harry repeated, a little impatiently. Draco smiled half heartedly and took a sip from his drink.
"Well, actually - "
"Wait, let me rephrase," Harry interrupted, with fake forgetfulness. He glared at Draco. "I should have said, 'how's life with my fiance?'"
Draco froze in his seat. He looked at Harry, almost hurt, and turned away, not willing to argue or anything. Harry saw Madam Rosmerta giving him a death glare. He didn't care at the moment if he was being rude or not. All he wanted to do was finish his talk with Draco.
"So you're not going to answer me?" Harry said, as he stood up slowly from his seat. He felt a little dizzy doing so.
"You're drunk, Potter," Draco said, ignoring him.
"Yeah, so? Answer my question, prat."
"Leave me alone, Potter," Draco answered quietly. He was paying attention to his drink more than Harry's hateful words. "Why don't you go talk to Hermione? The girl who you turned away the other night?"
Steam escaped from Harry's ears. "Don't start lecturing me about what I've done, Malfoy," he spat, pounding his firewhiskey down, which spilt a little. "Why don't you lecture me about what you've done? Stealing my fiance and making her think that you loved her. What about that?" he bellowed.
Madam Rosmerta held her hands up. "Boys, please, let's not - "
Draco rose from his seat. "Making her think that I loved her? What are you talking about? I did! I do! And you can't do anything about that!" Draco screeched.
"You love her, huh? Tell me, did you spend every waking hour missing her everytime you were away? Did you pretend to hold her in your arms when you slept alone in a cold, empty place? Did you ever once, tell her that you loved her knowing full well that she wasn't there? Did you?" He yelled.
"Stop trying to make me feel guilty, Potter, it's not going to work."
"Guilty? You think that's what I'm trying to do Malfoy?" Draco nodded stiffly. "Well, that, and I'm just trying to piss you off." Draco glared angrily.
"Get yourself a sobering serum or something Potter, you're just wasting our time," he said icily.
"Maybe when you tell me why you did what you did!" he yelled.
Draco sighed angrily. "Why don't you ask Hermione the same thing? God, Potter, I don't want to interfere between you two - ! "
"You already have," he cut icily, the coldness spilling with his every word. Draco was silenced by his anger, and opened his mouth slighly with clenched fists.
"Listen. I never meant to hurt you, or fall in love with her! We thought you were dead, Potter, and everyone was telling her to move on. We thought that what we were doing was okay. Everyone else thought it was! Why can't you understand?" Draco asked.
"You want me understand this? Who says that I should have to? I am still in love with her! That's why I bloody well can't understand whatever the hell is going on with you two!"
"You know what, Potter, fine, you claim that you love her. I don't know how you can though, when you couldn't even come back for her."
"Are you saying that I never loved her?" Harry bellowed angrily. He fought back the urge to punch him. "Because if you are, you don't know anything about my relationship with her. My love for her is real." Draco snorted sarcastically. This only made Harry's anger grow even more.
"Whatever you feel for her is something different, because this is the first time you've felt something even close to love," he continued. "A feeling you're father could never give you," Harry added cruelly, as he knocked over his chair.
He walked away, pushing everything aside as he did. Madam Rosmerta was surprised at the two's outrage, and stood still in her spot. The people in the bar were staring, whispering more hurriedly now as Harry passed by them. Everyone seemed to be doing something. Including Draco.
Before Harry knew it, he was pulled right around by the elbow to face Draco, who's face was screwed up in anger. He looked at him surprised for only a second, before Draco's fist made contact with his cheekbone.
And for Harry, it was on.
He stumbled backwards from the blow, using a table to stop him from falling. He huffed angrily, before thinking of his actions, and charged straight at Draco, head first.
Many things happened all at once.
Madam Rosmerta screamed. A few people in the bar stood up and began yelping or cheering for whoever, and the barman tried to break them apart.
Harry's charge flew Draco back first to a wall, where he punched him in the stomach and elbowed his face. Draco pushed him backwards and kicked him in the stomach, where Harry stumbled on the counter and yelped in pain. Draco was now on top of him, punching him wherever he could, while Harry made a painful effort to throw him off.
The two were breaking everything in the bar. From the tables and chairs to the glasses and trays. Everything was in a wreck. They continued fighting and pounding on each other, letting the rage come out in their fists.
At the moment, Harry was punching Draco's stomach with clenched fists, as he tried to pull him away by holding on tightly to his face and turning it away. He threw it backwards as far as he could till Harry was completely off of him, and punched him right in the face.
Harry recovered and stood up, bloody faced, and with the anger of a raging storm, picked up a chair and threw it right at Draco. He ducked just in time, but the chair broke the window that was behind Draco, shattering into tiny little pieces. Madam Rosmerta screamed again.
"You bastard!" Draco yelled, as he made a lunge for Harry. He stood in his spot, ready for the blow.
Backing away by his push, Harry made an angry swing to his face and missed, bruising his ear. "You monstrous, stealing, evil little death eater!"
"YOU DON'T KNOW MY FATHER."
"YOU DON'T DESERVE HERMIONE."
The insults continued as they fought, both losing their strength very quickly after the first few punches and kicks. No matter what, however, none wanted to be the first to back down from the fight that they had both created. They fought till someone pulled each of them away, and that was not the easiest thing in the world to do.
"Stop!" yelled the barman, with an angry voice. They continued to make an effort to hit each other.
"Damn it Harry, stop!" said a familiar voice, who was holding him back. This man had only just entered the bar, and seen the commotion. He was bracing Harry tightly while the barman had Draco back by holding him beneath the armpits.
"What the hell is going on?" the person screeched, as Harry made a lunge at Draco. It was no use, for the strong arms held him back like a rope.
"Let me have a go at him!" Harry bellowed with rage, as he kept on fidgeting. Draco was now huffing and breathing heavily. He stopped trying to hit Harry.
"No! Stop it, right now!" Madam Rosmerta said to them both, as she went in between the two boys who were held back. "You've wrecked the entire place!" She yelled with an angry look. "And my customers are frightened!" She showcased the people hiding behind what was left of the tables and chairs.
"Sorry about this Madam Rosmerta," said the person, who Harry now realized was Ron. "They'll help clean it up. They promise."
"Yes, Madam Rosmerta, we do," Draco said, in his still huffy voice. He roughly took his arms away from the barman.
"Thank you for pulling these two scoundrels apart," she said to the barman and Ron as she glared at Draco, not accepting his somewhat apology. "Boys and their muggle dueling..." she muttered, while storming off into the back room, with not a word left to say. The customers creeped back out of their hiding places, and began moving around, trying to fix what was done.
Harry pulled himself away from Ron. "I should help," he said, still angry.
"No, no," Ron said with a testy voice, "Not till you explain what happened."
Harry gave Draco a death glare, and wiped his face of blood. Draco's face was scathed and bruised. "Ask the man who's never been loved," he sneered angrily.
Harry stomped away, over to the back room, where Ron assumed he was going to apologize to Madam Rosmerta. He looked from Draco to where Harry had just walked, and scowled at them both, wondering how on earth this could have happened.
"What happened?" he asked impatiently.
"We had an arguement that resulted in a physical fight," Draco said simply, as he examined his face for injuries. He didn't sound angry anymore. Just upset. "How did you know where to come?" Draco asked Ron, trying to change the subject. The barman had walked off, shaking his head disapprovingly.
"I took a hint when Harry told me what he was going to do. I visited the first bar that came to mind."
"He's a bit drunk." Draco said, as he began re-building a table and a few chairs. He was looking at anywhere but Ron.
Ron shook his head unhappily. "I'm taking him home once we're done here. After this, I don't want to see you or him in a fight like this again, you hear me?" he said very adult like. Draco shook his head. "I expected more from two responsible men. Especially two men who want the same thing."
He shook his head disapprovingly before he walked away, into the back room where he was going to take Harry back to his hotel, and give him a sobering potion that would hopefully help him sleep just a little bit. But for Draco, this was going to be a very long night.
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TBC.
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A/N: They fought, they fought, they fought! That's so bad. I pity pretty much all three of them... I wonder who you guys are mad at right now? xD. I think this is most of Hermione's fault to be honest...
Well, anyhow! I'm off to watch television. I'm so tired, I just came back from Florida after a week! Hehe. This was the quickest chapter to write just cause i knew straight away what I was gonna do, no changes no nothing! SO ALRIGHTY FOLKS. let's get these mouses clicking review!
I love you if you do xD.
Yours truly,
Sevengee/Lina.