Once again, I must apologize for the long delay. Things have grown quite busy in my real world-rehearsals, holidays, and new work projects. This one is very short, but we've been building up to it for awhile now. Enjoy, and Happy Holidays!
Harry vanished the now-empty beer bottles, and they moved to the family room. A soft gong sounded just as they sat.
"Harry, are you there, mate?" Ron's voice came from the fireplace, just as the low embers flared with green flames. Harry went to the hearth and knelt on the floor.
"Listen, Ron. Do you mind if we talk later? Now isn't a good time."
"I know what happened, Harry. What the hell? Why didn't you tell me that Ginny slept with—?"
"Ron! It's not a good time!" Harry snapped. "I'll floo later!"
"Harry—"
"Later." Harry got to his feet and pointed his wand at the fireplace, sealing the floo. He raked his hands through his hair and let out a long sigh.
"I—erm," Draco began uncomfortably. "I don't mind leaving if you need to—"
"It's fine, really. I erm—I'm just not quite ready to discuss the whole situation with Ron right now." He moved back towards the kitchen with purpose. "Would you like another beer? Whisky?"
"No, I'm fine, thank you." Draco got to his feet. "Erm, Harry. I…I don't mean to pry, but—well it was rather hard not to overhear—" Harry stopped walking, but did not turn to face him.
"Yes, Ginny and I are having some marital difficulties," he said.
"Oh. I, erm—I'm sorry to hear that. Weasley said—" Draco shoved his hands into his pockets, unsure of how to proceed. Harry turned around.
"She slept with Gordon Horton. They've been having an affair for some time, and I saw them together at James' junior quidditch match." He threw his hands up with a shrug.
"Merlin!" Draco exclaimed. "Everyone touted your relationship as a fairy tale romance to rival the royals. What have you—I mean—is that why she didn't come with you?" he asked. "No—never mind. That was insensitive of me." He summoned his helmet from the counter where he'd left it. "I should go. I'm sure you'd like some time to—"
"No." Harry grabbed his arm as he passed. "Stay. At this point, you're probably the only person I know with the ability to look at this entire situation objectively. Everyone else will simply take sides. I—please stay."
"Well, if you're certain. I don't want to—"
"Please." Harry started for the refrigerator, but changed his mind, turning instead to a shelf in the butler's pantry. "I think I need something a bit stronger." He retrieved a bottle of scotch and a glass. "You?" he offered.
"Maybe just two fingers," Draco replied. Harry poured them each a measure, dropping a couple of ice cubes in each.
They carried their drinks out to the porch, where they perched at the outdoor bar. They drank in contemplative silence for a few moments before Harry finally spoke.
"I'm not certain what happened," he began. "I love Ginny. She's smart, beautiful, independent, but…things aren't the same anymore." He sipped his drink.
"Boredom?" Draco asked. He swirled the liquid in his glass.
"No, I—don't you think I might have been the one to stray, if that was the case?"
"Infidelity isn't always sexual, Potter. It isn't always about being with another person." Harry gave him a look. Draco sipped his scotch before he continued. "Father was so obsessed with his quest for power that he tended to take Mother completely for granted. He thought that spending exorbitant amounts of gold would keep her happy."
"Ginny complained that I'm too caught up in being the hero to give her the affection that she wanted. I didn't think that was true—no, I know that isn't true. I—" Harry sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. "I don't know if it even makes sense, but—" He paused again, struggling to find the words to describe what he felt.
"What is it?" Draco asked.
"It's just that I—I don't think…I'm not attracted to her anymore," he confessed.
"Really?" Draco looked at him curiously.
"I know it sounds stupid. Ginny's gorgeous, right? She's fit, and she still commands attention whenever she enters a room. I just—it doesn't make sense to me." Harry swallowed the last dregs of his scotch.
"Is there…perhaps…"
"There's no one else. Maybe it would be easier if there was. Things would make sense. I—I just—the thing is…I hadn't even noticed we'd drifted apart. She was always late; missing dates…I didn't even care. One night, maybe a few weeks ago, she came home reeking of his cologne. I just asked her to wash up before she came to bed. When it all came out, I didn't chase her when she left. Even my attempt to reconcile was half-hearted." Harry swiped his hands over his face and let out a sigh. "I just wish I could make sense of it all."
He left his perch at the bar and crossed the lawn, settling on the low stone wall at the top of the first garden, looking out at the water below. Draco watched him before he tossed back the last swallow of his whiskey and went to join him. The pair sat in silence, watching the watercraft as it passed.
"My parents married because their families brokered it to ensure continued pureblood nobility. If you asked me whether they love one another, I'd be hard-pressed to answer in the affirmative. Mother did her duty and provided Father with an heir. She stood by his side when it was required of her, and presented the face of an aristocratic family—we both did. There wasn't much in the way of affection shared in our household."
"My only impression of a loving relationship is the Weasleys. Arthur and Molly would die for one another, and they would destroy anyone who dared harm one of their children."
"As I recall, that is how Auntie Bella met her end." Draco chuckled mirthlessly. Harry grimaced faintly.
"I wanted our marriage to be like that. I thought it was. I don't know. The first few years, we did our best to be together; what with me in Auror training, and my rookie year and Ginny with the Harpies. Now, I wonder if we weren't putting on a face for the public—there was always a camera there wherever we went—our wedding, the births of our children… Now, that I really assess it, something wasn't quite right. I…I just can't put my finger on it."
"Perhaps Ginny isn't the one who was meant for you," Draco suggested. Harry scoffed.
"Besides Cho Chang Fifth year, Ginny's the only girl I've ever kissed. She's the only relationship I've ever had." He leaned back on his hands, letting his head fall back and the fading afternoon sun warmed his face.
"Exactly."
"I told you it isn't boredom," Harry insisted.
"No, not boredom, maybe there's just a yearning perhaps for something else. Something that you didn't quite know you wanted—needed—or maybe you did know, and you ignored it. You tucked it away as impossibility."
"You're not making sense," Harry lifted his head and looked at Draco, who continued to gaze out across the water. The golden sun forming a halo about his pale hair.
"As long as I live, I will never forget the last moments I had with Astoria. As I'd told you before, ours was an intense friendship. I don't think anyone knew me better. She certainly was attuned to my deepest thoughts, fears and yearnings. She made me promise that I would not sequester myself from the world—I think up until recently, I've certainly failed her in that regard. It wasn't intentional. It's just that…" Draco carded his fingers through his hair. "I—I've always been something of a coward. I suppose you've already noticed." He glanced over his shoulder at Harry, who raised a brow, but remained silent. Draco turned away once more, unable to face the startling green eyes that looked upon him with curiosity. "What I mean to say is that…on my own, without others behind me, forcing me to act—without the desire to save face, or best my rival—"
"You mean me?"
"You—you've never been my rival, Harry," Draco said. His voice came out low and hoarse. Harry sat up, staring at him in shock. He'd never heard Draco address him by his first name.
"I—you—what?" he stammered.
"I told you—when we first met, I really wanted to know you. I-I've always regretted how horribly wrong things went on the train First Year." Draco sighed. "I'm getting this all wrong. Astoria knew. I'd hidden it away for years, resigned that nothing would ever come of it, but she knew all along, and she reminded me before she died. She made me promise that if I ever got the chance, I wouldn't squander it again."
"Draco, what are you—" Harry began. The question on his lips faded before he had the chance to complete it.
Draco suddenly leaned in and pressed his lips to Harry's.