Harry glanced at the clock on his bedside table with a sigh. He'd been awake all night again, pretending to sleep for Draco's sake, but the truth was, he hadn't slept properly since their trip to Italy three weeks ago. He had attempted to remain in bed for the rest of the day and force himself to sleep before his quidditch game tonight but it hadn't worked. Every time he shut his eyes he would see Lance's cool taunting eyes and his heart would suddenly race with fear and guilt and he would be wide awake again. It couldn't continue and he knew it. His sex life with Draco was nonexistent now and, though Draco never complained, he could tell the blond was concerned.

Harry sat up and rubbed his bloodshot eyes with a sigh. There were times when he wished he was blind again; then he wouldn't see Lance's face, and he wouldn't see the disappointment in Draco's eyes whenever he said he was too tired, or the worry lines in Draco's face when he couldn't quite keep up the façade of happiness.

Harry swung his legs over the side of the bed and rested his feet on the floor for a moment, trying to mentally prepare for the night ahead. After a moment of procrastination, he pushed off of the bed and stood up.

As he dressed and then forced some dinner into his empty stomach, he came to the conclusion that he needed to speak with someone; someone that wasn't Draco, someone that could give him some advice, or hopefully, a way out without anyone getting hurt. He knew it was a long shot, but maybe he could somehow find a way out without Draco ever knowing the truth.

Harry arrived at the stadium late and rushed straight to the dressing room. Oliver was just gearing up for his pre-game speech and shot Harry a look of annoyance when he walked in at the last minute.

Harry smiled apologetically and practically threw on his gear while Oliver spoke to the other players behind him.

Harry grabbed his broom just as Oliver finished up his big sermon and trailed towards the exit behind his teammates. Oliver turned and barred the way by placing his arm across the doorway.

"You alright Potter?" he asked, peering at him closely.

"I'm fine," Harry replied. "Really," he added when Oliver narrowed his eyes skeptically.

"Seeing as I don't have a back-up for my back-up, you will just have to go on," Oliver finally said. "But I want you to take some time off Harry, look after yourself. Warren will be back after this game, so that should help."

Harry nodded in understanding. He needed this job, he needed quidditch; it was the only time his mind actually concentrated on something else. It was the only time he didn't think about sinking further and further into the black hole he'd dug himself into.

Oliver patted him on the shoulder and led him to the field.

Harry felt himself switch into game mode as soon as he took off from the open corridor and flew through the cool air. The roar of the crowd was almost deafening and helped to pump the adrenaline through his exhausted body.

Midway through the game, Harry knew he was in trouble. His reflexes were not up to their usual standards; he felt sluggish and tired. He shook his head and took a deep breath. He was floating above the action and looking around for that flash of gold. It was a close game and he knew it was most likely going to come down to the Seeker to win or lose the match.

Harry glanced over at his competition; the Wimbourne Seeker, Jeremy Winthrope. The man wasn't too far away, eagerly searching the arena for the Snitch. He was a lot older than Harry and had a lot more experience under his belt.

Suddenly Harry saw him dive towards the northern end of the pitch. Harry quickly shot off after him, trying to see what he could see, the wind whipping against his face and plastering his dark hair to his head.

Harry suddenly cursed under his breath and pulled to a stop. The man had just fooled him with a classic Wronski Feint, a move that even a beginner Seeker shouldn't fall for.

Jeremy turned and smiled smugly at him before floating back up at a leisurely pace.

Harry was so busy fuming that he didn't even notice the battle going on behind him until it was too late. Two of the beaters were battling furiously up the pitch, batting the bludger back and forth in a heated skirmish. Harry's own teammate whacked the bludger away as hard as he could and then turned in horror to see it racing directly towards Harry.

"Harry!"

Harry turned at the yell behind him and didn't even have time to react. The jet black bludger hit him squarely in the arm, completely pulverising almost every bone in his right limb.

Harry cried out in pain, his right hand instantly dropping from the broom handle. He gritted his teeth and clenched onto the broom with his one good hand, directing it down towards the ground as quickly as he could, the intensity of the pain threatening to overcome him as he neared the grass.

Suddenly Harry's teammate, the Beater who had inadvertently hit him, was right beside him, helping him to guide his broom safely to the ground.

Barely conscious, Harry felt himself being laid out on the damp grass to await the medical team. Somewhere in the back of his mind he noted the sudden cheers from the crowd. Jeremy must have finally found the snitch.

Harry closed his eyes and moaned as someone gingerly probed his broken arm. He could hear the mediwizards murmuring amongst them as they lifted Harry onto the stretcher and began to levitate him off of the field.

He couldn't believe he'd been so careless. This was a professional game - and an important one at that -and he'd been tricked by the other Seeker and lost them the match. Plus now he was injured on top of it all.

Oliver was going to kill him.

Harry groaned again as he was taken into the arena's state-of-the-art first aid room and moved onto the hospital bed. He kept his eyes closed as the medical team injected him with something he hoped was a pain reliever before carefully assessing his injury. The pain seemed to dull a little after only a few seconds.

"Let me in!"

Harry's eyes flickered open at the familiar voice. He turned his head with a slight wince to see Draco trying to force his way past one of the nurses at the door. The sight flooded Harry with such a longing to touch his partner that he immediately croaked, "Draco."

The nurse turned to see Harry's expression and, with a defeated shrug, allowed the blond to walk past her to Harry's bedside.

Draco instantly took up his left hand and held it tight. "Are you alright love?" he asked, worry etched into every line of his face.

"Yeah," Harry replied, trying to sound reassuringly healthy. "How did you get here so fast?"

Draco held up his bracelet with a wry smile. "I felt the hit as much as you I think."

"Sorry," Harry replied miserably. He'd forgotten that Draco felt when he was in pain through their connection.

"Its fine," Draco waved off impatiently. "I just want to make sure you're alright." He paused, glancing at the medical team bustling around Harry. "I hope these people know what they're doing," he said, his tone both a warning as well as indicating that he didn't think much of quidditch doctors. "Bloody quidditch," he added darkly, his grey eyes dropping to Harry's disfigured appendage.

Harry could still hear the underlying strain in his boyfriend's voice. It must have been hard knowing that Harry was in pain but not knowing how much or how serious. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"Mr Potter, we need you to drink this," one of the Mediwizards interrupted.

Harry turned to eye the familiar potion warily. "Is that what I think it is? Can't you just heal my bones?"

The Mediwizard shook his head and held out the potion. "You don't have any bones left that I can salvage Mr Potter; they've been turned to dust, for lack of a better description."

Draco grimaced at the statement as Harry took a deep breath and downed the potion.

Harry let his head fall back against the soft pillows with a sigh. "It's going to be a looong night," he exhaled with dread.

"Is he alright to come home tonight?" Draco asked, looking up at the Mediwizard.

"We just need to bandage his arm into position and then yes, he can go home."

Draco turned back to Harry. "That's good news at least."

Harry snorted sarcastically and opened his eyes. "You've never had Skele-Gro, there is no good news."

Draco stepped back and allowed the medical team to secure Harry's arm under his watchful eye.

Once they had finished the head Mediwizard handed over some pain potions to take with them and gave Draco all the instructions. Draco then helped Harry out of bed and walked him to the Apparation point so that they could go home.

After a somewhat awkward, and for Harry, painful, trip home, Draco had him settled comfortably in their large bed, propped up on the pillows.

"Thanks," Harry said gratefully as he took a sip of the steaming hot chocolate that Draco had brought him.

Draco perched on the edge of the bed. "I was thinking that maybe we need a house elf," he said, "especially for the next few weeks while you heal."

"Really?" Harry replied dubiously.

Draco nodded, tucking one leg underneath him. "I would feel better knowing that you had some help here while I'm at work. Plus, wouldn't you like to not have any chores to do ever again?"

"Well yeah," Harry replied slowly. "But do we really need a house elf for just the two of us?"

Draco smiled pityingly. "Oh Harry, sometimes I forget that you were brought up by poor muggles."

"They weren't poor-"

"And so you don't know the comforts that money can bring you," Draco continued unfazed.

Harry glared.

Draco reached out to tenderly stroke Harry's cheek, melting the glare off of the Gryffindor's face. "Think about it?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Fine, I will think about it."

"Good." Draco nodded with a smile. "How are you feeling?"

Harry sighed and took another sip of his hot chocolate before answering. "I'm okay, more embarrassed then anything."

"Why are you embarrassed?"

"I fell for such a juvenile trick," Harry replied crossly, "and lost us the game. Oliver is going to be livid."

Draco chuckled. "He's not mad Harry, I spoke to him on the way in. He was just worried about you."

"I don't want him to be worried about me," Harry exclaimed, nearly upsetting his drink onto his lap. "I don't want him to think of me as some little school kid back at Hogwarts that needs to be babysat, I want him to think of me as a grown-up professional quidditch player."

"I'm sure he does," Draco replied, surprised by Harry's vehemence. "He takes the game very seriously, I'm sure he wouldn't hire you if he didn't think you were up to it."

Harry turned away and looked out the window. "It's only because I used to be blind. It's just pity."

Draco frowned. "That's not true Harry and you know it."

Harry shrugged, keeping his eyes averted.

Draco carefully removed the ceramic mug from Harry's left hand and placed it on the bedside table. "Harry, what's wrong?" he asked, trying to catch Harry's gaze. "You haven't been yourself since our trip."

Harry swallowed and refused to meet his boyfriend's gaze. "Nothing's wrong," he said. "I'm just…"

"Tired?" Draco supplied sharply. "You've been tired and moody and brooding… No you're right, nothing's wrong."

Harry turned to meet the accusation in Draco's grey eyes. This was his chance to come clean, to tell him everything and work on a solution together.

Only there was no solution without losing everything Draco had worked so hard for. He couldn't come into the blond's life and completely destroy it in one foul swoop. Draco didn't deserve that.

Harry swallowed again and turned away, horrified to feel tears welling up in his eyes.

"Harry?" Draco said, noticing the sudden glassiness in Harry's big emerald eyes. "Are you in pain?"

Harry nodded, quickly seizing onto the excuse for his tears.

Draco got off of the bed and prepared one of the pain reliever potions.

Harry swiftly wiped his eyes with his one good hand while Draco wasn't looking. He needed to get himself under control.

There was a sudden tapping at the window and the two men turned to see an owl waiting on the sill with a cream-coloured envelope in its beak.

Draco passed Harry the potion before walking over to open the window and collect the correspondence from the large bird.

"It's addressed to you Harry," Draco said as he returned to Harry's side.

Harry drank the potion, trying to hide his terror as well as delaying the inevitable. What if it was from Lance and Draco read it? What if Draco thought he was having an affair? He couldn't bear to think of breaking Draco's heart like that.

"Do you want me to open it?" Draco asked, sitting back down on the bed again.

"Uh… sure," Harry replied with dread, knowing that he couldn't very well open it one-handed. This was it, Draco would find out everything and life as he knew it was over.

Draco popped open the seal and withdrew the thick cream parchment from within. He opened the letter and glanced at the signature scrawled at the bottom. He looked back up at Harry with a brow raised in surprise. "It's from Weasley."

Harry almost felt faint with relief. Draco held the letter out and Harry reached for it with a shaky hand. "I wonder why he's writing," Harry said curiously.

Draco shrugged and stood up. "Well, I'll let you read that while I go make a snack. "You hungry?"

"Yeah," Harry said glancing up. "Thanks."

"Don't think we're not finishing that conversation later when you're up to it," Draco warned before turning to walk to the door. "If we had a house-elf then I wouldn't have to go slave in the kitchen for you Potter," he said over his shoulder as he left.

Harry couldn't help smiling at the Slytherin's retreating back. He hated to admit it but he actually really liked it when Draco was haughty and superior, it reminded him of their earlier years together and he definitely had a soft spot for the old Malfoy.

Harry turned back to the letter in his hand.

Hiya Harry,

I was at the game tonight and that hit looked pretty bad mate. Hope you're okay. I was wondering if maybe you'd like to come for a visit to the Burrow tomorrow? If you're feeling okay by then that is. I'll be there all day if you want to stop by. Hope you'll come Harry.

Take care,

Ron W.

Harry set the letter down and leaned back into the soft pillows behind him. It was an interesting prospect; perhaps visiting Ron would be good for him at this point in time. He knew he couldn't tell Ron about his problems because he wouldn't understand and it would just make the redhead uncomfortable. He didn't need to know the sordid details of Lance's blackmailing. But perhaps a relaxing visit to the Weasley homestead would be a welcome distraction.

"What did the weasel want?"

Harry looked up as Draco walked back into the room, a plate in one hand with enough crackers and cheese laid out on it for the both of them. "He saw the game and wanted to see if I was alright. And… he asked me over for a visit tomorrow."

Draco placed the plate on the centre of the bed beside Harry before walking to the wardrobe to get undressed. "Really? That's ballsy." He turned to look at Harry as he unbuttoned his shirt. "Are you considering it?"

Harry shrugged and winced at the pain, forgetting about his arm for a moment. He glanced down at the letter in his lap. "Maybe."

Draco turned back to the wardrobe as he slipped into his silk boxers. He didn't think it was a good idea for Harry to see Ron when he was feeling so vulnerable, but he couldn't forbid his partner from seeing him even though he sorely wanted to.

"I'll decide in the morning I guess," Harry said as he tossed the letter onto the table and lay back with a sigh. "Too… tired to…think."

Draco smiled as Harry closed his eyes. He slipped into bed beside Harry and moved the cracker plate to his lap. He stroked Harry's soft hair back off of his forehead as he looked down at him tenderly, glad that the pain reliever potions also contained a sleeping draught to help him sleep. Harry looked worn out and could use a full night's rest.

Draco grabbed his book from the bedside table and opened it as settled back. He read for the next hour, munching on crackers as Harry slept soundly beside him.

. . . .

Harry slept through the night and late into the next morning. Draco slipped out of bed and got ready for work as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb his sleeping boyfriend. Harry had looked quite content in his sleep.

Harry turned over in his sleep and his eyes sprang open at the pain that instantly shot through his right arm. "Ow fuck!" he exclaimed, sitting up and clutching his upper arm with his left hand. He looked down at his bandaged arm and it all came back to his groggy mind; the game, the talk with Draco, Ron's letter…

Harry quickly shuffled over to the bedside table and snatched one of the day-time pain potions. He could feel sharp pin pricks of white-hot pain stabbing his injured arm, and it was steadily growing in intensity. He shook the vial and popped the cork before drinking it in one gulp.

Harry sat back a moment, closing his eyes and waiting, trying to breathe through the agony. It wasn't long before the magical medicine kicked in and he could open his eyes once more.

He exhaled in relief and glanced down at his right arm. He gingerly touched it, trying to ascertain as to whether there were bones there yet or if they were still being formed. Probing the think gauze didn't tell him anything.

With a sigh, Harry stood up and walked over to the mirror. The dark circles under his eyes had lightened considerably and the heavy bags were no longer there. He smiled a little; he might have to start taking a sleeping draught more often.

Harry wished that there was some magical way to make clothes just appear on his body as he slowly began to get ready for the day. It was slow going with one useless arm and he was red-faced and out of breath by the end. He wandered down to the kitchen and ate some cereal, part of him wondering what it would be like to have a house elf around. It may provide a little company for him for the days that Draco worked long hours, if the elf was friendly and conversational that is, which was unlikely.

Harry pushed back his bowl and glanced at Ron's letter which he had brought down with him. He knew he was going to end up going so he might as well just leave now and save himself the hours of painful deliberation.

Harry dumped his dirty bowl into the sink and grabbed his coat off the rack before heading to the fireplace. He grabbed a handful of floo powder from the jar and stepped into the fireplace and, before he could change his mind, called out 'the burrow.' He was instantly whirled away in a flash of green and gold flames.

Harry landed on the other side and stumbled out in a cloud of ash, his right arm jostling painfully with the journey.

"You made it."

Harry coughed and looked up into the familiar face of Ron Weasley. The redhead's freckled face looked quite pleased to see him. "Yeah," Harry rasped, throat dry. "Thanks for the invite."

"Come on, I'll get you some water," Ron said, waving him towards the cozy warm kitchen to their right. "You've never adapted to floo travel eh Harry?"

Harry merely coughed in response, causing Ron to snicker and Harry to break into a grin.

"How's the arm?" Ron asked as he poured Harry a glass of water from the tap and set it on the table for him.

Harry took a seat and drank some of the cool liquid before replying. "It's okay, kind of painful. Much worse than third year."

"Shit, that sucks," Ron sympathised. "But it's going to heal? You'll be able to play again?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, "if Oliver ever lets me."

"Why wouldn't he?"

Harry made a face. "You were there, I played terribly."

Ron slid into the seat across from him. "It wasn't that bad…"

Harry gave him a pointed look.

"Okay, you did look…unfocused."

Harry ran his left hand through his messed up sooty hair with a sigh. "Yeah, I've been pretty tired lately and… and it's starting to affect my playing."

"When's Warren back?" Ron asked, feeling bad for his ex-roommate.

"Next game. I have some time to get over this injury and get back to normal."

Ron nodded. "That's good, Oliver won't kick you off just for being tired a few times."

Harry took another sip of water and looked around. "Nothing's changed," he noted, changing the subject. "Where is everyone?"

"I told them to take off for the day," Ron said, blushing a little. "I didn't think you were ready for the whole family to pounce on you. They'll be back for dinner, if you want to stay that long and say hello. Mum and dad would love to see you," he added hopefully.

"Maybe," Harry said vaguely, pushing his empty glass away.

"Did you want to go outside?"

"Sure."

The two boys left the tall leaning Weasley house and wandered into the vast overgrown garden.

"I'd suggest a game of quidditch if you weren't injured," Ron said as they meandered over the broken brick pathways.

Harry looked around him, remembering all the games they had played there in his youth with Ron's brothers and Ginny and Hermione. "How is your family?" he asked, looking sideways at Ron.

"They're good," Ron said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Dad's busy at the Ministry and mum's taken up a daycare business. Since all her own kids have moved out she says she misses the sound of little feet around the house."

Harry smiled, looking down at the path passing beneath his feet as he listened. "And Ginny?"

"She's off having the time of her life in Paris."

"Really? Doing what?" Harry asked curiously.

"Painting."

"Painting? I didn't even know she was into that," Harry replied in wonder.

Ron laughed. "Some boyfriend you were Harry."

Harry had to laugh too. "Sorry, I guess that's why she broke up with me."

Ron snorted and nodded in agreement. "At least you didn't have to break her heart by telling her you were gay," he reasoned.

Harry smiled. "And what about you? What have you been up to? Are you seeing anyone?"

"I'm good, still working at the Ministry with my dad." Ron shrugged. "It's not the most exciting job in the world but it's interesting. It keeps me in my own place, which is great. And I've started seeing one of the girls at work, her name is Olivia and she is so cute and sweet and really really smart. She's too good for me."

Harry chuckled at the infatuated note in Ron's voice. "She sounds perfect. Way to go Ron."

Ron grinned and stopped to turn to him. "Yeah, she is perfect. I think I'm going to ask her to move in with me this weekend."

"Well I hope she says yes," Harry said sincerely, stopping next to him.

The two smiled at eachother for a moment, the camaraderie of their youth coming back and erasing any existing tension that was there.

"Wanna play Exploding Snap?" Ron suggested.

Harry laughed and nodded. "Sure, why not?"

The rest of the day was spent playing games indoors and talking and laughing and reminiscing and more laughter. Harry felt as though the warmth of the place was sinking into his bones and creating this happy glow within him. It was like Christmas morning and he didn't want it to end.

But he wasn't ready to face the entire family just yet.

"I'd better get going," Harry finally said reluctantly after finishing off another tall glass of warm butterbeer. It was his favourite drink and he hadn't had any in ages.

"Okay," Ron said understandably as he followed Harry to the front door. "Are you walking back?" he asked in confusion.

"Yeah," Harry confirmed as he struggled one-armed into his coat. "The trip in was painful enough and I haven't had any pain tonic for a while. I don't mind walking. If I get tired I can grab the Knight Bus."

Ron smiled. "That might be more painful than the floo network."

Harry chuckled. "Too right."

"Thanks for coming…"

Harry smiled at him. "Thanks for the invite. I promise I'll come back and see everyone another time. I'll just ease my way back in slowly."

Ron laughed and opened the door. "See ya Harry. Hope your arm heals quickly, it was pretty exciting watching you out there for those few games."

"Thanks, and hey, maybe next time I'll bring Draco with me."

Harry laughed at Ron's expression as he walked out the door, waving his one good hand over his head as he strolled away.

Harry enjoyed his walk through the streets, the temperatures were definitely warming up as summer approached and he had to remove his coat after about thirty minutes. The meeting with Ron had gone undeniably well and letting go of all that resentment from the past actually felt pretty good.

Harry finally turned onto his pretty tree-lined street and headed for home, wondering if Draco was going to be late.

Harry glanced to his right as a dark town car pulled up alongside him. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach as the back door opened, and his fears were confirmed as Lance leaned out and beckoned for him to come inside.

Harry almost – almost – refused, but knew it would be pointless so he looked around before quickly getting into the back of the extravagant car.

Lance closed the door behind him before grabbing Harry and hauling him into his lap. "I wanted to make sure you were okay my pet. Malfoy told us about your accident and I was so worried."

Harry blanched but allowed the man to move him bodily so that Harry was straddling his lap.

"I couldn't stand thinking about you in pain," Lance simpered, and Harry thought he was being even more strange than usual.

Lance cupped the back of Harry's neck with one hand and pulled him in for a sloppy kiss. Harry grimaced at the strong taste of alcohol and knew at once why the other man was acting even more bizarre than usual. Lance's tongue pushed into his mouth possessively and Harry wanted to gag.

He'd been with lots of men at Borgin and Burkes who came in pissed out of their mind; either because it was the only way they had the courage to come in or the only way they had the courage to actually act out some of their twisted fantasies. Harry wondered which it was for Lance now.

Lance pulled back and breathlessly pushed Harry to the floor.

Harry swore as his healing elbow banged against Lance's knee.

Lance didn't even seem to notice, despite his speech about caring for Harry's well-being earlier. "Suck me Potter," he ordered.

Harry frowned as Lance undid his own zip and shoved his trousers down. The man was never this forceful or rude. Something was up.

Harry decided that it would be best to just get it over with. He forced himself to kneel in front of Lance and place his left hand around the man's hard shaft. Harry closed his eyes and bent to work, using his mouth to get him off as quickly as possible.

Lance leaned back in the leather seat and moaned, eyes closed in ecstasy. The man was close already.

Harry used his teeth to graze the skin, knowing it would bring Lance closer to climax. Lance moaned loudly and thrust up into Harry's mouth, nearly choking him.

Harry tried to move back a little but Lance grabbed a fistful of his hair and pumped mercilessly, finally climaxing into Harry's unwilling mouth with a cry of release.

Harry choked and rocked back onto his heels, wiping at his mouth furiously with his left hand, trying to spit out the vile ejaculate on his tongue. He glared up at Lance as the man leisurely re-zipped his trousers with a smug self-satisfied smile.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Harry demanded angrily.

Lance reached across to open the car door. He then leaned down and grabbed Harry's bandaged arm, forcefully hauling Harry back onto his knees.

Harry cried out in pain, wide eyes searching Lance's face fearfully, searching for some hint of sanity.

"This is not a relationship Harry dear," Lance uttered. "I am not your boyfriend, I am your master and you are my slave."

Harry's mouth dropped open in shock.

"This is how it must be," Lance continued, sounding as though he were trying to convince himself. "You're my little broken toy Harry. I have to endure seeing you with Malfoy this Saturday, all night long, holding your hand, kissing you…" Lance stopped and swallowed, his grip on Harry's injured arm tightening.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked desperately, trying to extract his arm. "What is happening this Saturday?"

Lance's eyes narrowed. "Don't pretend you don't know about your own house-warming party Harry." He stopped and sneered. "I may need you again that night. Perhaps while Malfoy is busy socialising with his guests we can have a quick fuck in the master suite?"

Harry felt sick to his stomach at the thought of Draco being in the same house while that was going on in their bedroom.

Lance watched Harry's horrified expression with satisfaction before suddenly shoving Harry towards the open door.

Harry couldn't help the cry of pain that escaped his lips before he quickly scrambled out the door and back onto the footpath.

"See you Saturday love!" Lance called before slamming the door shut and signaling the driver to go.

Harry stood on the pavement, staring up the street even after the car had disappeared from sight.