Summary: Draco is a Healer, Harry is an Auror. When an accident sends Harry to St Mungo's and into Draco's care they begin to wonder if things can ever go back to the way they were. HarryxDraco slash.
Rating: M
Warnings: manipulative!Draco, confused!Harry, understanding!Hermione
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or settings that you recognise; they belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am not making any money from this story.
A/N: I had some good news today: I've been offered a place at college for this August. Just to clarify for any Americans out there – not college as in university. I think you guys call it community college? Anyway, I'll be off to study Higher (A Level) business management, Higher psychology and Advanced Higher French. Hopefully with a few more basic qualifications under my belt I can go off to university next year to study Languages and Inter-Cultural Communication. Sadly this means less time for writing so I shall try my best to get this story finished and posted asap! xox
Chapter Five: A Sound Investment
Almost a month had passed since he had agreed to a friendship with Draco and Harry was surprised at how well they were getting along. They had been to three more Quidditch games together and they had been to Draco's favourite pub for a drink almost every other night this week. It felt nice to have a friend who was just his, not his and Ginny's. He could talk about anything without the judgement or lectures that his other friends liked to give him when he complained. One thing that he had noticed, however, was how Draco avoided all talk of his personal life. He was happy to discuss his work and his potions but their conversations never ventured any further. Tonight they were heading to a trendy bar that Malfoy liked and Harry was determined to make him open up a little.
"So..." he began, taking a sip of the cocktail that Malfoy had placed in front of him. "Tell me about your friends. What do you do when you're not working?"
There was a long pause. "Nothing."
"Nothing? You don't do anything?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "So when you're not working and you're not with me, you sit in your flat in and do nothing?"
"Basically, yes," Draco looked awkward
"Bullshit! What about Pansy, is she still your girlfriend?"
Draco, having tried to avoid elaborating by taking a large gulp from the electric blue drink in front of him, snorted into his glass.
"Pansy?" he sniggered. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah," Harry replied, looking puzzled. "I thought you two had been together since Hogwarts."
"No! No. Really, no. She's the biggest fa-" he cut himself off. He had been about to say 'fag-hag' but he still hadn't broached the subject of his sexuality and he was unsure of how Harry would take it. Harry, however, just looked even more confused.
"Okay, so you don't see anyone anymore?"
"I see Pansy all the time. Usually when I'm kicking strange men out of her flat while she's unconscious, covered in last night's make-up and reeking of stale smoke."
"Charming," Harry laughed. "She sounds like quite the, eh... character."
"She's mental," Draco agreed. "She's my best friend and I love her to bits but she's hard to keep track of."
"I can't imagine what that's like," Harry looked thoughtful. "Waking up with someone you don't even know."
Draco blanched. "You mean to tell me that you've never had a one night stand?"
Harry shook his head, frowning. "Nope. I kissed Cho Chang in fifth year and then I started dating Ginny in sixth year. We broke up for a year and then got married after the war. That's the extent of my dating experience."
"You... you've only had sex with one person?"
"Yep."
"The same person since you were... sixteen?"
"Uh-huh."
"Oh dear god, I think I need another drink."
Harry laughed and playfully swatted his arm. "It's not that bad! I know plenty of people who have only been with one person."
"Who are these people and why haven't they killed themselves yet?" Draco joked, trying to ignore the way his stomach flipped when Harry touched him.
"Ron and Hermione! And Neville and Luna," He added, nodding his head for emphasis.
"Why am I not surprised?" Draco rolled his eyes. "The biggest losers that Hogwarts has ever seen."
"Hey, those are my friends!" Harry looked slightly annoyed but didn't push the matter. "What about your friends then? Are they into sleeping around too?"
"I don't sleep around, Potter," Draco replied coolly. "I'm just not as prudish as you are."
"I'm not a prude! I just don't see the point in getting drunk and going home with a different woman every night!" Harry retorted, clearly stung by the Slytherin's accusation.
The two men glared balefully at each other for a few moments. Silently getting to his feet, Malfoy made his way over to the bar and ordered another round, before taking it back to the table and slamming a glass down in front of the brunette.
"I didn't come out to argue with you, Potter, and I'm not letting this ruin my night." He took his seat across from the other man. "Here, drink."
"Thanks," Harry said grudgingly, taking a sip of the cocktail and trying desperately to avoid making eye contact with the blond. He hadn't meant to sound so judgemental but he was a little defensive of the fact that he had only slept with one person. He wasn't embarrassed, and he had no idea why he felt the need to explain himself or his choices. Frowning slightly, he began picking apart a spare beer mat that had been lying on their table. A few moments passed before anyone spoke.
"That's a sign of sexual frustration, you know."
Harry looked up to see Draco smirking at him over the top of his glass. He gestured to the small pile of shredded cardboard. "Not been getting any lately?"
Harry blushed furiously. "Where did you even hear that?" he asked, discreetly vanishing the paper, his wand hidden under the table.
"I read about it in some shitty Muggle magazine that my mother had lying about in the reception room at the manor," he replied, looking smug
"Draco Malfoy, reading Muggle magazines?" Harry looked incredulous. "Next you're going to tell me that you became a Healer because you wanted to help people!"
"Of course I did! That and the six-figure salary, anyway," he added with a grin.
Harry raised an eyebrow, "Six-figure, eh? The next round's on you then!"
"I've bought every round so far!" Draco laughed
"Well, some of us paupers are still on minimum-wage and can't afford a round of drinks at swanky London nightclubs," the Gryffindor replied, fighting to keep his face straight.
"Minimum-wage?!" Draco cried incredulously. "Potter, you seriously need to re-think your career."
"It's just while I'm in training and the course finishes in September. It's five years of training but it's been worth every second."
"But on shitty wages? Nothing is ever worth being poor," Draco said, a hint of his old arrogance evident in his tone.
"I'm not poor, Malfoy," Harry had assumed that everyone had heard about his recent windfall. "My parents left me their Gringotts vault and everything in it when they died, plus I got my inheritance from Sirius on my twenty-first birthday. That, coupled with Ginny's salary, means we'll never have to worry about money."
"You're rich?" Draco looked gobsmacked. "But, your house..."
"What about my house?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowed.
"No, it's just... you could live anywhere in the world but you choose to... erm..."
"Slum it?" Harry offered, his eyebrow raised. "Sirius left me that house and I couldn't bear to part with it. And I already have a house, so why spend a couple of hundred grand on something I don't need?"
Draco considered this for a minute before nodding slowly. "I see your point. Although, I don't regret buying my loft. Or my flat in Scotland. Or my property in France."
Harry gaped at him. "How much debt are you in?"
"Not as much as one might think. Plus, it's a good investment," the blond shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. Harry laughed.
"So, what makes a good investment?"
Draco studied him for a moment before answering. "I have to get at least double what I put in."
"Double? Isn't that asking quite a lot?" the brunette remarked, looking surprised.
"Maybe," he replied casually, "But I always get what I want."
"Always?" Harry cocked his head, an amused look on his face. Draco's eyes glinted.
"Always."
-x-
Draco made his way through the hospital's labyrinth of white corridors, rubbing his eyes wearily.
"Long day, Draco?"
"Just glad to be getting home, Tracy," he called over his shoulder to the mediwitches area and the dark-haired woman laughed.
"You might look a bit happier about it if you had someone to go home to," she said knowingly, grinning as he turned to glare at her. She raised her hands in surrender. "I'm just saying."
"Well, don't just say. I lead a very fulfilling life, I'll have you know," he replied haughtily.
Tracy sniggered. "Goodnight, Draco."
The blond opened his mouth to retort but the group of women behind the desk began to laugh at his infuriated expression. Huffing loudly, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the building, the shrill sound of mocking laughter ringing in his ears. He knew in his heart that Tracy and the other women were just teasing him but it only served as a reminder that he didn't have anyone to go home to, let alone the one person that he desperately wanted. As the weeks had passed, he had found himself falling for Harry and he couldn't even describe how angry he was at himself for allowing it. Under normal circumstances, his heart was the most heavily guarded of all his possessions and he was very wary about who he gave it to. His icy facade allowed him to get what he wanted without getting hurt and that suited him perfectly. He was happy to have strings of meaningless flings and more than willing to use people to get what he needed but this was different. This actually meant something. It had been so long since he had had a crush on anyone that he wasn't entirely sure how to deal with his newly discovered feelings. His stomach swooped every time his former rival met his gaze and electricity crackled when their hands brushed together. But then, of course, it didn't really. It was all a lie. Something that Draco had created in his head. It felt amazing but it wasn't real and it never would be. When Draco looked at Harry he saw a future, happiness, passion. He saw everything that he had ever dreamed of in the depths of those emerald eyes and it took every ounce of self-control not to kiss the Gryffindor every time he saw that beautiful smile. When Harry looked at Draco he saw a friend, and nothing more. Draco blinked back tears for what felt like the thousandth time and, taking a deep breath, he broke into a run.
Breathing heavily, he slowed down as he approached his front door. He fumbled with his keys in the lock and hurriedly made his way upstairs to his flat and let himself in, flicking on the lights as he crossed the threshold. Not stopping to change out of his work robes, he opened the top drawer of his sideboard and pulled out a scrap of paper. He took a deep breath and mentally prepared himself for the worst. He expected to be berated and yelled at for at least twenty minutes as punishment for his previous behaviour before the boy agreed to see him again but, nevertheless, he punched the number into his phone and waited for an answer.
"Hello?"
"Hi, is that Pete?"
"Yeah... who's this?"
"It's Draco, from the bar?" there was a pause. "We... erm -"
"I remember. What do you want?"
"Okay, well... I just wondered if you were busy tonight. If not, you could always come over and we could -"
"Fuck? Draco, I'm not stupid, and I'm not going to let you use me again. Goodnight."
"Wait, don't hang up!"
"Why not? I can recognise a booty call when I see one... or hear one... whatever."
Draco was reluctant to beg someone to sleep with him but right now, he was desperate.
"How old are you, Pete?"
He heard the boy sigh. "Nineteen, why?"
"Do you have school in the morning? University?"
"No."
"And will your parents let you stay out late?"
"I live in student accommodation, jackass. I told you that when we were walking to your flat."
Shit, thought Draco. Time to bring out the big guns.
"Listen, I feel really awful about the way that I treated you that night. I was an arsehole."
"Yeah, you were."
"I'd had a really bad day and I took it out on you, which I shouldn't have done. I'm sorry."
Silence. "I'd really like to take you out for a drink to make up for it. No funny business, just two people having drinks," he lied smoothly, trying to stop his mouth curling into a grin as he heard a sigh at the other end of the line, signalling the fact that he had broken Pete's resolve. He looked at his watch. Three minutes – not bad. If the boy could be convinced to have a drink that easily, surely it wouldn't take much more to persuade him into bed. Smirking, Draco signed off and made his way to the bathroom. He loved a challenge.
-x-
Harry sat on the couch, watching a rerun of Scrubs. Although he and Ginny used magic throughout their daily lives he still found that there were a few Muggle inventions that he couldn't live without, a television being one of them. He could hear Ginny rustling about in the kitchen, preparing her meals for the next day, as Quidditch training had started in earnest and she barely had time to eat anything, let alone go to the sandwich shop for lunch. Harry had been carrying around a sense of guilt for the past couple of weeks as the realisation sunk in that he didn't really miss his wife when she wasn't around. He saw her at breakfast and a couple of nights a week she would be home for dinner but ninety percent of the time she was training, taking care of business for the team or helping Alicia prepare for the wedding, which would take place in less than six weeks. She and George would be married on the first day of spring and Harry couldn't think of two people who deserved happiness more. The date was picked, not only because it sounded romantic, but because the first of April was Fred and George's birthday and, even though five years had passed since Fred had died, George still found it terribly difficult to celebrate. Nobody had brought it up but there was a silent understanding among the family that the wedding would give George something to be happy about around this time of year.
Harry and Draco had discussed the wedding but the conversation had ended rather awkwardly when Draco had realised that he would not be invited, as Harry's family still hated him and had no idea about their friendship. He felt a twinge of guilt when he pictured the crestfallen look on the blond's face and his stammering apology for being so presumptuous. Grabbing the phone out of its cradle, he made his way up to his bedroom and quickly dialled Ron and Hermione's number, praying that the latter was the one to answer. He was lucky.
"Hello?"
"'Mione, can you talk?"
"Of course, Danny's at my parents' house for the night and Ron's out with Seamus and Neville."
"Even better. Can I come over?"
"Sure, what's wrong?"
"I'll tell you when I get there. Is your floo open?"
"It is now. I'll see you in a minute."
Harry hung up and took the stairs two at a time, dumping the phone back on the table.
"I'm going over to Ron and Hermione's, okay? I'll be back later," he called, grabbing a handful of sparkling powder from the dish by the hearth.
"Okay, can you ask her to owl over her recipe for that casserole we had last weekend?" came the reply from the kitchen, and he rolled his eyes. Yes, that was his priority right now: casserole.
"Of course, love. I'll see you later," he pointed his wand at the empty grate and cast a quick Incendio. Throwing the dust into the fire, he squeezed his eyes shut and stepped forward, vanishing in a woosh of green flames. When he stopped spinning, he opened his eyes and dusted himself off onto the rug. Vanishing the dust and ash with his wand, he looked up to see his best friend beaming at him with a cup of tea in her hand. Taking the cup gratefully, he took a seat on the sofa as she settled herself beside him, tucking her feet under her and sipping her tea.
"So, what's so desperate that you had to come over at nine o'clock at night?"
"Oh God, is that the time?" Harry looked around at the clock. "I didn't even realise, I'm so sorry."
"Don't worry about it. To be honest, I welcome the distraction. I complain that I never get a moment's peace around here but I hate it when I'm alone. The silence is deafening," she surveyed him over her mug. "So, succinctness never was your strong point. 'Procrastination can wait' seems to be your motto."
He laughed, gazing at his friend fondly. She knew him too well and there was no way that he was getting out of this one.
"Okay, I have a few things going on and I need to say some stuff out loud to... I don't know... get it off my chest or something," he said slowly and Hermione nodded.
"Okay. Shoot."
He took a deep breath. "I don't think I love Ginny anymore," he closed his eyes, bracing himself for the shattering of china on the hardwood floor or, at the very least, an audible gasp. Instead, he looked up to see Hermione sighing, a sympathetic look on her face.
"Oh, Harry."
"You're not angry? Or surprised?"
"I was worried that this would happen. You were sort of, well... forced into the wedding, for want of a better word, and at the time I wondered if it was what you wanted. But then you always seemed so comfortable together that I assumed that things were fine and..." she trailed off, looking helpless.
"They were. Fine, I mean. There was no real passion, no fireworks but things were... fine. I just thought that that was what happened when you got married, that things settled into a comfortable routine," Hermione sat in silence, waiting for him to continue at his own pace. For once in her overly-articulate life, she seemed to sense that Harry did not want to be pushed and, for that, he was incredibly grateful. "Since her training regime started a couple of weeks ago, I've seen her for about two or three hours a day and that doesn't bother me. At first, I assumed that it was just the mark of a solid relationship, that we could be apart and not fall apart but I've realised that I've liked not having her around. My favourite time with her is when she's asleep because then she's not nagging me. I'm sick and tired of her yelling and arguing and constantly picking at me. I just... I don't love her and I don't know if I ever did. Not in the way that I should, and not in the way that she loves me."
Hermione nodded sadly, her drink forgotten on the table. Harry cast a Warming Charm on her cup and handed it to her, but she shook her head and he set it back down.
"I don't know what I can say that could possible make this any better."
"There's nothing to say, really. Just you being here, listening, helps more than you'll ever know."
"Well, I'm always here for you, you know that," she replied, placing her hand on his. She sighed again. "So when did you realise all of this?" He hesitated.
"See, that's the other thing that I wanted to tell you," when she didn't respond, Harry took that as a sign to continue. "I made a new friend. Or, rather, an old friend."
"What do you mean?" Hermione tucked a strand of bushy hair behind her ear, looking puzzled.
"I... erm... I've been hanging out with Malfoy," he paused to allow her time to absorb this snippet of information.
"Malfoy? As in Draco Malfoy, the blond, ferret-y wanker that we went to school with?"
"Yes, but he's not a wanker anymore!" he replied hurriedly
"Harry, people like that don't just change! He was awful to us in school, you especially!" she looked at him pleadingly, as though she could change his mind with willpower alone.
"Yes, I know that but he really has changed. He's a Healer at St. Mungos now and he treated me after that potions accident at work," he explained. "We started talking and we just sort of became friends. We go out to bars and clubs and it's great; I finally have a friend that's just mine. I can talk to him without worrying about being judged and we can have a laugh."
"Jeez, Harry, you sound like you want to date him," Hermione teased, and he frowned at her.
"It's not like that, 'Mione. He's straight," there was a very pregnant pause, in which they both realised the implications of what he had just said. Hermione opened her mouth to speak but Harry beat her to it. "I'm straight! We both are. We're just friends. I'm married, and I don't like blokes, and neither does he and we are just friends, okay? God, Hermione, let it go."
He stood up abruptly and knocked his half-full cup to the ground. He quickly stepped over the shards of china and cringed as the brown liquid seeped into his friends' white rug. He grabbed a handful of floo powder and was just about to throw it into the flames when he felt a hand on his bicep and he froze.
"Are you okay?" Hermione asked. There wasn't a syllable in that question that held any amount of malice or judgement or any of the things that Harry had been scared of when he made his way over here tonight and the unconditional acceptance that his best friend had shown him throughout the years overwhelmed him. Turning to face her, he pulled her into a bone-crushing hug and the green dust that he held fell to the floor to join the broken mug. No matter what he had done over the past ten years, Hermione had always been the one person that he could count on. She had followed him all over the country when she should have been at school on a terrifying, harrowing search for pieces of Voldemort's soul; she had fought Death Eaters and Dementors and giants alongside him; she had been Petrified by a Basilisk on her way to tell him how Tom Riddle could be defeated; she had believed him at once when he said that he had not put his name in the Goblet of Fire and, not only that, but she had stayed up all night helping him study spells for the Triwizard Tournament and not once had she ever complained. He sobbed openly onto her shoulder and if she felt awkward, she did an excellent job of hiding it as she rubbed his back soothingly, guiding him over to the sofa and Summoning a box of tissues. She waited until he had stopped sniffling before handing him a hankie.
"Thank you," he said thickly, taking the proffered tissue and blowing his nose loudly.
"No problem," she replied softly. "Now, Harry James Potter, you are going to tell me the truth about what's going on."
"There's nothing going on, I swear. I'm with Ginny," he said, wiping his face with another tissue
"Okay, and that would be an acceptable answer if you hadn't just told me that you're no longer in love with her," she said, arching an eyebrow
"I told you, we're just friends. I've never fancied a guy in my life," he insisted. There was a long pause.
"So there is absolutely no way at all, whatsoever that you could possibly have feelings for Malfoy?" she looked at him seriously. "It wouldn't be the end of the world, you know."
"It would be the end of my world!" he cried. "Ginny would leave me, Ron would hate me, the Weasleys wouldn't be my family anymore and you wouldn't be able to speak to me because you'd be caught in the middle and be forced to choose!"
"First of all, the Weasleys will always be your family no matter what. Secondly, no-one could ever make me choose, okay? And thirdly," she paused. "I didn't hear a denial anywhere in that little speech."
Harry looked down at his hands. She was right, he had simply explained away all of the reasons that he shouldn't like Draco, he hadn't actually come out and said that he didn't. What the hell did that mean? Did he like him? Was that why he had never felt real passion with Ginny? The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He had only been with two girls in his life – the first he hadn't particularly enjoyed kissing or been very upset about when the relationship ended, and the second felt like his best friend. He could never share in Ron's or Seamus' enthusiasm when they badgered him into going to strip clubs with them or when pretty girls talked to them in bars, and even his own wife had never invoked the same excitement that he felt when those quicksilver eyes met his. Finally, he felt the penny drop and he could tell by the look on Hermione's face that she knew what he was thinking.
"I..." he faltered, and he could feel tears prick his eyes.
"I know, it's okay," she said, pulling him into another hug. "You don't have to say anything."
For the second time that night, Harry broke down and sobbed on Hermione's shoulder. After everything that they had been through together, there finally seemed to be some sort of silent understanding between them. No words were spoken for the rest of the night; they simply sat, enjoying the warmth of each other's company, and listened to the crackle of the fire.
-x-
A/N: DUN DUN DUUUUN... what happens next? Does he stay with Ginny or leave her for Draco – you decide! Well, actually, no. I decide, and that's what makes being a writer so fun – SUSPENSE! Now review, my little reader monkeys, or I'll drag this out even further... mwahahaha...