So Wrong, a harry potter fanfic

AN: So here is the sequel to 'Hand in Hand' and Part 2 of the "For Your Love, I'm Fighting" series. I had originally had a somewhat different idea for this but as always the boys had their own agendas and ideas and of course I had no choice but to listen to them. As always your thoughts, kudos, and support are much appreciated.

Also the song, 'So Wrong', is not mine, it belongs to the band Joshua and the Holy Rollers.

I never want to let you down

So I'll give you up.

I can't explain my feelings now

It's never enough to know you're in a happy home now.

To know you're in a happy home.

~So Wrong, Joshua and the Holy Rollers

Amber liquid slashed into the glass, making the ice clink gently against the sides with a sort of musical jingle. Harry watched the bit of steam rise from the glass in an odd sort of fascination.

He'd lost count of how many he'd already had. Not that he was keeping track or anything, especially not with the bartender so graciously refilling his glass as soon as it was empty.

His thoughts were still so loud, still screaming. He'd hoped that the alcohol would be enough to drown their voices. To dull the ache in his heart. To erase the image of her with someone else. Again.

No matter though, he was sure eventually the drinks would work their magic.

He snorted to himself. Magic. Of course magic couldn't fix this. He'd even briefly considered self-obliviation until he remembered Lockhart and a backfiring wand. No, that would not do him any good.

Sighing, he raised the glass to his lips, taking a large sip, the burning sensation long since dulled by repeated applications of firewhiskey.

"Potter, are you drunk?" a voice asked from somewhere to his right.

Startled, Harry nearly spilled the contents of his glass in his lap as he took another swallow of whiskey. Turning blearly towards the sound of the voice, Harry blinked a few times as the tall blonde man standing next to him came into slightly fuzzy focus.

"Malfoy?" he asked stupidly. What did he want? Why was he even here?

Malfoy lifted a pale eyebrow at him in response. "Eloquent as ever, Potter," he drawled.

Malfoy pulled one of the low backed stools out from the bar and sat beside Harry, waving his hand negligently to the bartender. A glass was placed in front of him and a generous pour of a golden liquid was splashed into it.

Harry blinked.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" he blurted.

Malfoy regarded Harry speculatively above the rim of his raised glass as he took a sip of his drink, like he was weighing what to say.

Finally he settled his glass on the bar and turned his eyes back to Harry. "If you must know, Potter, I'm here to get away from the whispers and stares out there," Malfoy said, gesturing back towards the crowd milling around in small groups, their chatter carrying across the expanse of the ballroom. "And, in a few cases, curses. And not the colorful language kind either."

"And," he continued after a moment, "I'm not overly fond of crowds as it is. It gets to be too much sometimes." He took a long swallow of his drink and turned back to Harry again, gray eyes studying him critically.

"Why are you hiding over here then, Potter? And why are you downing firewhiskey like it's going out of fashion?"

Harry looked back down at his drink, he could feel himself flushing. "Ginny," he mumbled and then downed the rest of the contents of his glass. The bartender appeared once more and refilled the glass.

What am I supposed to do with my lonely nights?

What am I supposed to do with my errant mind?

And why does it feel so wrong to know you're held in someone else's eyes?

Feels so wrong to know you're on someone else's mind.

Feels so wrong.

"She Weasel? I thought …" Malfoy said.

Harry snorted. "Yea well so did I. Thought we would spend the rest of our lives together. Should have known that anything good wouldn't last," he replied bitterly.

Malfoy was silent for a while. Then, "What happened?"

A bitter laugh escaped Harry. "What happened? I'll tell you what happened," he began, his words slurred and voice rough. Though whether it was from the firewhiskey or the anger he wasn't sure. "I forgot that nothing good ever happens to me. Or if it does, it never lasts. Fuck, after the war was over and I actually lived, I thought for once things would be different. Ginny and I got back together about two months afterwards. Everything was great. At least I thought it was. About a year and half after we got back together Ginny started acting strange. She got distant.

'She'd just made the Harpies then, right out of Hogwarts. I didn't think anything of it, I was in Auror training back then. But then I started to hear rumors about 3 months ago. Ginny being seen out with other men, at clubs and such. I didn't know what to think. So I confronted her. We had a spectacular row. Basically she told me "I've moved on". Yea she moved on, without telling me about it, without telling me she wanted to end things, just kept letting me think everything was okay. That everything would be okay." Here Harry's voice broke slightly, and he took a large swallow of his whiskey. Tears were blurring his vision again and he squashed them ruthlessly.

He would not fall apart in front of Malfoy of all people. Hell he had no idea why he was even telling Malfoy any of this. It wasn't like they were friends. Yeah they had finally put aside their stupid childhood rivalry and were civil when they saw one another at functions like this one or anywhere else in public.

They were not, however, friends.

With a massive effort, Harry reined in his emotions, taking another swallow of whiskey.

"Meanwhile," he continued once he'd gotten control of his emotions again, "She was sleeping with random men every other week. And she didn't care if I found out or how it made me feel. And the worst part is, her family blames ME for it all. Said I wasn't attentive enough towards her. Which to be fair, I wasn't at first. The first months after the war were … hard. I was a mess. But she was there for me. She helped me get through some of the worst of it without ever complaining.

"She convinced me to get counseling. Even went with me to my first session. Merlin, that first session was hard. It was worth it though in the end. As I got better though it seemed that's when things between us went downhill. I think … I think the damage had already been done when things were bad. And I think she believed that with counseling things would magically get better overnight. When they didn't … I just … I don't understand why she didn't just break things off with me. I would have been able to handle it if she'd just told me the truth. Instead of all this shit. I just … I don't understand." The last few words were barely a whisper, the tears were clogging his throat again, making it hard to talk.

The pain of Ginny's betrayal, still so fresh, his chosen family believing their sister and daughter over their chosen son, squeezed Harry's heart painfully.

The thoughts, which had been somewhat dulled by alcohol, return with a vengeance, louder, more insistent than before. The words that he dare not speak out loud. Did she ever love me? Do I deserve to be loved? Am I really that broken, unworthy? And the worst ones of all, the words from his childhood, spoken with such contempt by his relatives. Freak. Unnatural.

And I know it seems sad, but I'll say I got what I want.

To love real fast, and walk away with a song.

Was it all you ever wanted, just to see how long it'd last?

Were all the tears just taunting to burn out what little I had?

Harry stared down into his drink, trying to once more silence his screaming thoughts and wondering once more why he had just spilled all of that out to Malfoy of all people. Maybe he was just that drunk.

The chatter of the crowd across the ballroom, the sound of the music rising and falling, and the chink of ice dropped into glasses followed by the splash of liquor being poured rushed to fill the silence left behind by Harry's words

A hand landing on his shoulder and giving a gentle squeeze startled Harry out of his musings and when he lifted his eyes he saw the concern in the grey eyes of the man next him. Harry wondered when Malfoy had started to be concerned about him. Or when it started to matter to Harry that Malfoy was concerned about him.

Malfoy didn't move his hand from Harry's shoulder, his gaze never leaving Harry's face. Quietly he said, "That BITCH."

Of all the reactions in the world, especially from Malfoy of all people, whom Harry still couldn't believe he was telling any of this to, that had been the last thing he'd expected.

"That absolute cow," Draco spat, his face twisting in a sneer. "Did she not realize how good she had it with you? And, I don't mean the whole Savior shit. I mean she had you. You, who are kind, loyal, caring, selfless and giving. You who have been through so much shit and really just bloody deserve some happiness.

"And," Draco said fiercely, "You are very deserving of being loved, Potter. You deserve to be cared for and loved. You deserve to have someone take care of you for once. You are worthy."

Harry could only stare wide-eyed at the former Slytherin. Where had all of *that* come from? I thought we didn't like each other, he thought bemused.

He opened his mouth to say something and abruptly closed it realizing he had no idea what to say. Swallowing the last dregs of his drink Harry tried again. "I … well .. I … don't ...uhm … "

Draco smiled slightly at him, which did funny things to Harry's insides but he ignored that. Who knew he could smile like that? "I know we agreed to be civil to and all that, but I'd rather thought … well … I thought we could be friends?" There was a vulnerability in his voice that struck Harry. Draco then seemed to hesitate before he added; "I … I don't hate you. I … I haven't hated you in years. I sort of … well … I thought maybe we could try to be friends after everything was over. Start fresh?"

Once again the vulnerability struck Harry in a new place and he found himself smiling at the other man. Without giving himself too much time to think about it, he nodded. "I think I'd like that. Starting over." He held out his hand, "I'm Harry, by the way. Harry Potter. It's nice to meet you."

Something flashed in the grey irises just for a moment, and if he hadn't been looking at them he probably would have missed it. He thought maybe it was surprise and a little bit of pleasure.

After a moment Draco grasped his hand, his palm warm against Harry's. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry. I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy."

They smiled at each other as their hands went back to their respective drinks. The silence that settled between them was not quite comfortable but wasn't awkward either. While they both knew there were things they needed to say to each other, apologies and such, in this moment everything seemed a bit better than it had before.

Friends, Harry thought as the bartender returned to refill their glasses. We're friends. Imagine that.