"Oi Harry!"

Harry blinked and looked up to see Oliver glaring at him from his broom about ten meters away.

"Pay attention Harry, that bludger just about got you in the shoulder!" the Captain called out in frustration.

Harry shook his head and glanced over to where his team mates were busily smacking the angry bludger down the field away from him. "Sorry, I... Sorry." He didn't know what to say, his concentration was all over the place since last night's visit from Lance which had shaken him more than usual. The man had tainted the first night in their new house and he couldn't stop the depression from settling over him today.

Oliver surveyed him a moment. "I think you should head to the showers Potter. That's enough for today."

Harry nodded miserably. He knew he deserved to be sent off, he wasn't providing any help to his team and was likely to get injured in his current distracted state of mind. Harry flew to the ground and hopped neatly from his broom, quickly making his way to the change rooms.

He threw his broom into his locker and slammed the door shut before striding to the showers and standing beneath the hot spray of water. He stood leaning his hands on the tiled wall in front of him, head bowed and eyes closed.

He reined in his temper and attempted to control his breathing. He thought about why he was putting himself through this, that there was no such thing as a "perfect" life, and that to be so happy and content in one aspect of his life the universe needed to tip the scales in the other direction to make up for it. At least he was out of Borgin and Burkes, at least it was only one man – who didn't hurt him physically.

Harry nodded, running these arguments through his head over and over, trying to lift the cloud of depression enveloping him. It had started to work by the time the rest of his noisy team mates had entered the change rooms at the end of practice.

"You alright Potter?" Warren asked as Harry traipsed back to his locker to change.

"Yeah, just a little tired," Harry replied, directing a forced smile towards his injured team mate.

"Hope you're not pushing yourself too hard."

"Nah, just moved into our new house yesterday so maybe I was too excited to sleep," Harry said, slipping his jumper on over his head and turning around.

"Cool, when's the house warming party?" Warren asked with a teasing grin before getting up and grabbing a towel.

Warren laughed as he, and the rest of the team, wandered off to the showers, leaving Harry alone with his Captain.

"Harry, are you sure everything's alright?" Oliver asked in concern once it was just the two of them.

"Yeah," Harry replied, turning away to run a hand through his damp hair.

"Everything alright with Malfoy?" he pressed.

"Yes," Harry answered shortly, busying himself with tying up his shoelaces. "He's fine, I'm fine, everything is fine."

Oliver pressed his lips together; knowing Harry's tendency to bottle up his emotions and deal with everything solo made him worry even more about the boy's sudden mood change.

"I'll see you tomorrow Oliver," Harry said as he grabbed his duffel bag and exited the room, sparing the other boy a quick smile as he stalked past.

Harry walked quickly down the corridor and exited the stadium, leaning against the grey brick exterior to catch his breath as soon as he was outside.

It had been a long time since he'd had to lie to someone he was friends with. He hated lying but what other choice did he have? He would just have to stop feeling sorry for himself and make sure that he was alert and with it during quidditch practice. Getting thrown off the team would ruin everything he'd worked so hard for.

Harry suddenly felt as though he wasn't alone and looked up.

"Harry, fancy running into you here."

Harry's heart sunk as Lance strolled over from where he'd been sitting on a nearby bench. "What are you doing here? I just saw you yesterday."

"Is that any way to greet a friend?" Lance asked, his tone sharp and threatening even though his smile was as sweet as honey.

Harry closed his mouth and waited silently for the other man to get to the point.

Lance's smile widened. "I just missed you dear Harry and wanted to see you again."

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and glanced around. "Someone will see us," he pointed out.

"True," Lance nodded. "We will have much more privacy at my place, don't you think?"

"But it hasn't been a week," Harry pointed out acidly.

Lance chuckled and slipped an arm through his. "I only want to sit and have a chat Harry. I have tea all set up for us at my house – or we could go to your fabulous new pad?"

"No," Harry snapped instantly. "We'll go to your place."

Lance smiled in triumph and instantly apparated them away to his French villa.

Harry stumbled upon re-entry, clutching his abdomen as his duffel bag dropped to the floor, his stomach rolling unpleasantly.

"You alright lovey?" Lance asked, watching him. "You're not usually this uncoordinated."

Harry swallowed and took a deep breath. "I'll be fine. Apparation and I sometimes don't mix very well," he said, already feeling the nausea subsiding. He straightened up and followed Lance out to the patio and sat opposite him at the small round table laid out with an elaborate tea.

"I dare say some peppermint tea shall fix you right up," Lance said as he poured some steaming hot tea into Harry's cup.

Harry took the pretty cup and blew on the surface before taking a sip. He wondered what the other man had in mind for him today if not to take him to bed.

Lance munched on a biscuit as he watched Harry drink. "So," he said after a moment. "I met with Malfoy this morning – nothing to do with us," he quickly added as Harry's eyes widened with panic. "It seems the romantic fool is planning a little trip, just the two of you."

Harry's eyes narrowed, normally he would've been ecstatic at such news but not when it came from such an unpleasant source. "And?"

Lance picked up his own teacup and casually sat back in his chair. "And that means that I won't get to see you for two weeks, breaking our agreement. So, to make up for lost time I thought it best if I got to see you today for a few hours."

"Hours?" Harry repeated uneasily. "I thought you said that you only wanted to chat?"

"We are chatting," Lance replied pleasantly. "And then I want to fuck you."

Harry set down his cup with shaky hands. "Fine, let's get started then."

Lance simply smiled. "Not yet pet. I want my money's worth today. First we have tea, and then we will adjourn to the bedroom."

. . . .

Harry appeared in the old shack with an echoing crack and quickly sank to his knees, his stomach once again playing up unpleasantly. He kept his eyes closed for a minute, waiting for the sickness to subside.

It was over quickly and Harry opened dull eyes.

He felt even worse than last night; like a lying dirty worthless piece of shit. He was doing this to keep Draco happy but he felt as though he were betraying him in the worst way possible. Draco was secretly planning a romantic trip for the two of them while Harry was lying in someone else's bed.

Harry stood up and dusted off his knees before throwing his duffel bag over his shoulder. He just needed to get home and have a long hot shower, and then he would feel better. Just forget all about his double life and remember the good things. Forget about the last four hours and wash away every touch that that horrible man placed on his body.

Harry's breath caught and he quickly turned and walked out of the shack, forcing himself to walk all the way home, breathing in the cool air and letting it wash over him.

Unfortunately Draco was already home when he wandered in the front door of their new house.

"Harry, is that you?" the Slytherin called out from the kitchen.

"Yeah, sorry I'm late," Harry said, dropping his bag and kicking off his shoes. "Practice ran long."

Draco appeared in the doorway with a smile. "I love coming home to this place every day – and to you," he said, moving forward with a seductive smile.

Harry quickly stepped back towards the stairs. "Uh… I'd better shower before I come near you. Like I said, long practice."

Draco frowned slightly. "Don't you usually shower at the stadium?"

"Yeah, but I… er, wanted to get home since I was away for so long," Harry stumbled over the words as he continued to move back towards the staircase.

Draco's frown deepened as Harry fairly fled from the foyer and up the stairs. He had the distinct feeling that Harry was keeping something from him; his partner looked nervous and cagey.

Harry locked the bathroom door and leant against it, breathing quickly. He knew that had been a pretty poor performance but he just didn't have the energy to force any cheeriness into his persona tonight. The double life was beginning to take a toll on his mental well-being and he had thought that he would be able to control that aspect of his "relationship" with Lance. He thought he would be able to push everything away into a locked area of his mind and not dwell on it, but he was clearly fooling himself.

Harry took a long hot shower and scrubbed his skin raw before coming out and putting on some comfortable clothes. He looked at himself in the mirror, glaring into emerald green eyes as though the person in front of him were a traitor. He hadn't felt this sort of contempt for himself for quite some time and the feeling was dragging him back down into that black hole of depression once more.

Harry shook his head and forced himself to put one foot in front of the other and walk back out and downstairs to the kitchen.

Draco looked up from where he was sitting at the bench flipping idly through a thick cookbook, lost in thought. "Feel better?' he asked with a careful smile.

Harry felt his heart drop. Draco wasn't stupid, he knew something was wrong and now felt the need to walk on eggshells around him. "I feel cleaner," Harry replied cautiously. "But I think I have some sort of stomach bug or something, I'm not feeling the best."

"Oh, do you need to see someone?" Draco asked in concern.

"No, just… ah, just need some rest I think. You'd better not get too close though, it's probably contagious."

Draco watched silently as Harry wandered over to a cupboard and pulled out a box of crackers.

"I'm pretty tired," Harry said turning around with a stiff smile. "I think I'm just going to go to bed, er… in the other room. So you don't get sick."

"Really?" Draco replied in surprise, standing up. "Do you need me to do anything?"

"No, thanks," Harry said, trying to sound reassuring. "I'm sure I'll be fine by tomorrow. Goodnight."

Draco watched as Harry returned upstairs. Something definitely wasn't right but he didn't want to push Harry if his partner didn't want to talk about it.

Draco slowly sank back down onto the bar stool, his expression worried. He closed the cook book and stared out the window.

"Maybe something happened at practice?" he thought with a frown.

Draco walked out into the dining room and shut the doors behind him. He went to the fireplace and quickly firecalled Oliver Wood.

"Malfoy?" Oliver spoke through the flames with a hint of surprise. "Everything okay?"

Draco sighed. "No, not really," he said. "I'm worried about Harry, did something happen at practice today?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary happened," Oliver replied. "But Harry was definitely acting strangely, very distracted and sort of… sad."

Draco frowned and ran an agitated hand through his blond hair. "I don't understand, he seemed fine this morning before I left for work and then when he came home at seven o'clock he was very jumpy and… I almost got the feeling he was hiding something from me."

"Seven o'clock?" Oliver repeated in confusion. "Why was he so late?"

"What do you mean?" Draco asked slowly, a sense of dread coming over him. "Didn't practice go long today?"

"No, we finished a little early in fact. He left the stadium around two o'clock." Oliver paused, realising what his admission meant. "So… where was he between two and seven?"

"I don't know," Draco replied. "But I'm going to find out. Thanks for your help Oliver."

"Take it easy on him Malfoy," Oliver cautioned. "The more he's cornered the less he'll be willing to talk about what's bothering him."

Draco nodded and signed off from the fire-call. He stood up, still staring into the now empty fireplace. He didn't think he was ready to talk to Harry just yet; he was too worried and too angry. He thought they'd made so much progress since the beginning of their relationship but obviously Harry still felt as though he couldn't tell Draco everything or ask for help when he needed it.

Draco grabbed some floo powder from the mantel and stepped into the fireplace.

"Snape's office."

Draco stepped neatly from the charcoaled fireplace in Severus Snape's Hogwarts office and looked around. The tall black-haired professor was sitting behind his desk, as usual, and looked up in annoyance upon Draco's appearance. Snape's annoyed expression soon cleared upon seeing the worry etched on his ex-student's face.

"Have a seat Draco," he said calmly, motioning to the leather chair in front of his large mahogany desk.

"I don't think I can sit right now," Draco replied, pacing the cramped area with a frown.

"What seems to be the problem?"

Draco stopped and turned to look at Snape. "Has Harry been to see you at all?"

Snape's brow rose a fraction. "No, thankfully. Did you really think that I was the boy's secret confidante?"

Draco sighed and threw himself into the chair, suddenly too tired to stand. "No, not really. I just hoped that maybe you knew why he was acting so strangely."

"Strange how?" Snape inquired, setting his quill down and leaning back in his creaky chair.

Draco looked up. "Nervous and unsettled, and he lied to me about where he was today. He said he was at practice until almost seven but I spoke to Oliver Wood and he said that Harry was finished at two. I just don't know why he would lie to me or where he would've gone?"

"Hmm…. Strange indeed," Snape said pensively. "And today's the first instance you have noticed this out of character behaviour?"

"Yes, well…" Draco stopped and thought back. "There have been a few times that he's seemed a little sad and distracted at times but never this bad. I just assumed he was still dealing with his past and left him alone. Do you think I should be pressing him to talk about it?"

"It is difficult when dealing with a Gryffindor, and more so a Potter," Snape replied. "He has learnt to rely on himself and does not like to involve others, especially people he cares about, in his problems. Do you believe it is something more serious than simply his past?"

"I think so, it's almost as if he's…scared." Draco stopped and rubbed his eyes, feeling frustratingly helpless.

"Of you?"

Draco shook his head. "He has no reason to be."

"Perhaps someone from his past has caught up with him, such as a former paramour," Severus suggested.

Draco looked up sharply. "You think someone is hurting him?"

"Or possibly threatening him."

Draco stood once more and began to pace. "That could be. So how do I find out? Follow him?"

Snape leaned forwards once more and picked up his discarded quill. "You could always try speaking to him Draco. Potter would not be pleased if he found out you were shadowing him to discover his secrets. Gaining his trust will not be done by breaking it."

Draco smiled a little. "You are too wise for your own good Severus."

"I shall have to begin charging you for it then. Now go," Snape dismissed, returning to his paperwork. "I have work to do."

"Thanks." Draco turned and headed back to the fireplace.

"Tread carefully Draco," Snape added before Draco was whisked away in a burst of green flame.

Draco stepped out of the fireplace and looked around. The sky was already dark outside the large picture windows.

He took a deep breath and walked purposefully out of the room and up the stairs to the only spare bedroom with a closed door, assuming Harry was within.

He knocked on the outside. "Harry?"

There was a slight stirring from within. "Yeah?" a croaky voice responded.

"Can I talk to you for a second?"

There was a pause. "What about?"

Draco licked his lips, feeling unexplainably nervous, as though he were treading on very thin ice. "I just want to make sure you're alright."

"I'm fine," Harry answered instantly.

Draco hesitated, he didn't want to push him. "Okay… if you want to talk I'll be in our room. Don't worry about the time just come in." His words were met by silence. "So… goodnight then Harry."

Draco wanted to add 'I love you' to the end of that sentence but couldn't do it; he was too frustrated with his stubborn partner.

On the other side of the door, Harry had his hand pressed against the wood, a tear slowly slipping down his cheek as he listened to Draco walking away.