A/N: I'm so very sorry about the late update. I have no excuse really, except that this chapter stumped me a bit. Harry saved the day though, as usual ;-)

HBSJ

Chapter 17

Harry Potter was usually a happy and cheerful sort of person.

He was endlessly content to let everyone around him be their own odd magnificent selves and enjoyed his life to the fullest. He had sampled some of the most enigmatic food, drinks and people in the world and he was of the firm belief that being your true self was the only real way to happiness.

He lived in a small house on the Dartmoor grounds but it had a pool and he had it all to himself, so in general he was happy with his lot in life.

Sirius had wanted to buy him all sorts of wacky amenities in the pool house, like that keg fridge we was ranting about or the fancy mini donut factory but Harry had no need of something like that. He had a great sound system and a brilliant blender that could crush ice as if it was butter. It was all he needed for himself and, most important of all, for a party.

His godfather Sirius had taken him in when his mum and dad had died in the car accident on the M3 when he was just over one year old. He had been raised by Sirius and went to the local school alongside the rest of the children in the area, just as he would have if his parents had lived.

They had left him a small countryside cottage and a will with letters of love and strength. He'd read the letters and the will had been read but he had no other family left as far as he knew. If nothing else, he knew in his heart that he'd been deeply loved by his parents and his godfather who doted on him every chance he got.

Sirius and his dad had met in Uni and by that time, his mum and dad had already bought the cottage and they had never spoken of his grandparents. Sirius had always assumed they were gone. If it wasn't for Sirius, Harry would be all alone in the world but he wasn't and he couldn't have been happier about it.

Sirius probably hadn't been the steadiest of parents. He was loving and kind but also reckless and entitled, which probably came from long line of impeccable aristocratic breeding he was the product of. He'd never married and he'd had taught Harry all sorts of mischief, from small practical pranks at school to get out of random pop-quizzes, to a full-on infestation of soap bubbles across his entire school just for the heck of it. His best friend Ron Weasley from his younger school days had been his helping hand and encouraged as many pranks as possible. Looking back, the two of them probably hadn't been the best combo but they, along with Ron's older twin brothers had occasionally torn every class in school apart. It had been fucking glorious.

He did have one teacher who'd tried to reign him in, who'd tried to appeal to his conscience and his sense of common decency. It had only worked partially. Remus Lupin had been a great teacher, one of those teachers that just stick with you. He was able to take vastly complex subjects, such as the endless capacity of space and time, and make them seem a lot less complex to the class.

It was Mr. Lupin who had encouraged Harry to continue working with animals, as his teacher had seen just how fond he was of horses in particular and Sirius had seconded that opinion enthusiastically and loudly, as was his style.

He'd been taught enjoy life to the fullest and leave all regrets behind. The past was the past and it was unchangeable and the future wasn't here yet, so he couldn't do much about that either. Only the now was here and he should keep his eyes open and enjoy it as it was.

There were some issues though and to him, they were supposedly insignificant but their effect on his peace of mind were profound.

First, there was the constant bickering between Theo and Daphne. It drove him up the fucking wall listening to them. Theirs was a love that had started out strong in their teens but had turned sour over the years as they'd grown up. There was so much hurt between them and Harry wasn't sure if they would ever be able to go back to how good it had obviously once been. They each wanted the other but neither of them wanted to be the first to open up for fear of getting hurt, so instead they argued enough to ruin even the best of evenings. Harry wanted to scream at them some days and other days he envisioned locking them into a room and waiting to see if they killed each other or came out as lovers. It was equal parts aggravating and entertaining depending on how their arguments played out.

Second, there was the entire debacle with Hermione and Draco and this one was baffling to him. Draco wanted Hermione, that much was obvious but he was playacting with Cho Chang despite his revulsion at his own fucking plan. And Hermione wanted Draco too, but she had somehow misunderstood Draco's intentions completely, which made their training supremely awkward and to top it all off, Ginny now had joined the training and spent as much time as possible throwing herself at Draco.

It should have been comical but it wasn't, it was closer to painful. Hermione had eschewed all social media since that ill-fated date but it didn't seem to help much on her mood. She seemed to be perpetually sour these days but Harry knew better. She was sad. She had been hurt and now it seemed as though the entire world had branded her as a home-wrecker in relation to a man she didn't even want. Harry was baffled as to Tom's interest in Hermione, because every day a little token arrived from him along with a note containing flattery and flourishes. That meant that Hermione turned beetroot red every day and Draco's lips flattened into a straight before he marched stiffly away from them.

Harry had considered more than once to speak to them, either of them really. He wanted them to figure it out of course. It seemed like a rather silly misunderstanding but on top of that, there was the whole thing with the Duke and Duchess' probable disapproval of her, the cluster-fuck with Cho Chang and Draco's seemingly intrinsic ability to fuck things up for himself. Including his own love life, of course.

But at least the actual effect on Harry's personal life was minimal.

The third issue was not insignificant for him. It held his entire future happiness in its complicated grasp. And he had no idea what to do about it. He didn't even know if he could do anything about it.

He couldn't change anything substantial about himself. He couldn't change his heritage or his lack of status. He knew how to act as if he was titled like Sirius but with his godfather being the kind of person he was, perhaps he wasn't the best aristocrat in the nation to mould himself after if he needed that. But he didn't have to because he wasn't titled and he wasn't rich.

He was just Harry. Nothing more and nothing less.

Yet Harry longed from afar for the one thing he couldn't have.

Having experienced what it was like on that holiday he and Draco had gone on two years earlier where she had joined them, he couldn't imagine anyone else for him. He wouldn't want to imagine anyone else for himself. Ever.

On the surface, Lady Pansy Parkinson was a snarky entitled bitch. She had this insane ability to treat people with utter derision unless their social standing was the same as hers or higher. Or unless she wanted something from them.

But she could be her own sort of kind to those she loved and she could be fiercely loyal to those she wanted to protect and he was done. Her combination of crazy contradictions tugged at him and it made him want her quite desperately.

For a single blissful week on a yacht in the Mediterranean, they had been completely and utterly in love, freely giving into their uniquely powerful attraction. Before that, he'd been in love with her for so long that to have it reciprocated was the most amazing feeling in the world.

And he hadn't stopped to question it once. Which he probably should have.

He'd only had one week with her attention entirely on him.

And even then, they'd shared just one night of utter sated satisfaction. But it wasn't enough, it would never be enough when it came to her.

One step off the yacht however and she had gone right back to being a bitch towards him and everyone else. She was more vicious than ever before. As if it had never happened. She hadn't warned him and he had been so deeply hurt by her.

And stupidly, he still wanted more.

There was nothing more exhilarating and freeing than a good hard ride across the countryside.

Draco's muscles were screaming but still, he didn't relent.

Bolt was carrying him across the vast Malfoy-lands, through forests and fields and even a small village at one point.

His anger was permeating his every cell, his every pore.

Today, Hermione had been sent jewellery.

Bloody jewellery from none other than Tom Riddle!

He had to admit that Hermione had reacted with utter horror at seeing the extravagant gift nestled in the plush velvet of the box, but he couldn't stop himself from just walking away from that travesty without a word.

Why the fuck would Tom Riddle be sending Hermione a gift of that calibre? A tennis bracelet was worth a fucking fortune and he had no relation to her other than one dinner.

This was just so many layers of fucked up that she could hardly even breathe for the rage flaring within him.

Riddle was very much a married man. Draco had attended the ceremony and knew first-hand of the neglectful attitude he presented when around his wife. He'd also seen the contrast before they married, where he was adoring and attentive.

The man must've been practically insane to think that this was a good idea. He might want to jab at Draco, but he was openly ignoring his marriage vows and it was only a matter of time before it was discovered that he was the slag, not the women he associated with.

Riddle also had no money of his own, so every penny spent on the gifts to Hermione had come from his family. His mother's family. Money he'd gotten in the settlement when he and Bella had wed in an elaborate ceremony paid for by Bella's father, Draco's grandfather.

And finally, Draco wasn't sure but Riddle seemed to be trying to make him jealous and that part was working like a fucking charm. Draco was distracted and annoyed after Hermione received his packages and they arrived like clockwork every day.

He grit his teeth and spurred Bolt on even further.

He needed the exercise, he need the privacy a ride provided because his mind had become so tangled and muddled that he needed to clear his head.

Cho was texting and calling him several times a day with increasing irascibility. He didn't doubt that she was absolutely furious. He had taken to ignore her too or respond in one or two-word texts, which put their fake relationship in a terrible state but he found that he didn't much care.

She would probably make some man very happy but she was too vicious for him and not in a good way. He wanted fire but he could do without the talons that Cho sometimes displayed. But if he withdrew from their agreement, she would definitely make some waves, if not a whole fucking tsunami. He had no doubt that she would act on her threat post-haste, so maybe he should warn his parents about her.

And he had the disquieting feeling that she wouldn't just leave him be. She had been so close to getting the influence she wanted. The title, the connection to actual royals, the fortune, the castle. She was a classic narcissist and she wanted him to be as isolated from his family, from his friends and from everything except her as possible, something he would never let her do to him. She had already hinted more than once about how horrible his friends were treating him. He scoffed loudly and Bolt made a low noise in his throat.

Draco patted his neck and said against the wind whipping at him. "You're right boy, we need to get back."

He was breathless as they rounded the final corner of the drive towards the stables. The sun was almost setting and his day had been long and trying in more ways than one.

It had gotten late, he and Bolt had been out longer than he'd anticipated and when he dismounted and entered the stables, only Harry was left. Was it really that late? He looked at the clock mounted outside Harry's office, only half ten. There should be at least two stable hands there for the evening. His ponies were never left alone and he paid the nightly workers handsomely for their time.

So why was Harry the only one waiting for him?

He led Bolt over to the racks of saddles and began untacking him from the harness and tying him to the pole. Draco began cleaning out the hooves and Harry helped him silently, taking a curry comb to start grooming Bolt from their gruelling ride, using circular motions to brush away all the dirt and debris from him and then brushing him down with the body brush to get him back to his usual shine.

After he was done with the hooves, Draco brushed out the mane and tail and Bolt stood dutifully still during their combined efforts to clean him up.

When they led him to his stall, he munched on some hay and huffed out a satisfying breath at being home again.

Draco walked towards the saddle room where he also kept most of his riding gear and Harry followed him, still silent and Draco found it particularly unnerving.

He had to say something. "Where are the saddle hands?"

Harry just shrugged casually. "Meal in the canteen."

Draco just nodded and walked on. Harry had tried more than once to speak with him about the estrangement between him and Hermione but Draco had no interest in discussing it with Harry. Only Harry wasn't so easily dissuaded and Draco knew that well. In fact, Harry could be stubborn as an ass at times.

This could very well be one of those times.

Shite.

After placing his gear carefully, Harry smiled tightly. "Drink?"

He nodded curtly.

It would seem that they were going to solve this with alcohol. He didn't mind that at all. He needed a drink to forget all of the absurdities that had happened in the past couple of weeks.

They walked towards Harry's pool house and Draco surreptitiously watched the Dowager House as they walked. Hermione was in there, probably thinking he was a right arse.

Dammit.

He wasn't supposed to feel bad about any of it.

It had been a logical solution to a shite problem to make a deal with Cho and to ignore Hermione. But he didn't think that it would be so difficult to ignore her.

He wasn't certain if it was better or worse that he saw her every day. Because by seeing her every day he knew she was doing well. He might not contribute to any happiness on her part but she seemed to be content.

But if she went away, when she went away he corrected himself, when she went back home to Whitecroft he wouldn't have any reason to contact her again and that felt like a rather acute sort of torture. She would have a life that he knew nothing about. She would date and marry some random bloke and forget all about him. And wasn't that how it was supposed to be?

So why was the very thought of it so painful to him?

Harry led the way into his house and went straight to the drinks cart. Draco went to the fridge, Harry always had something that could be popped in the microwave, it was a testament to how well the servants at Dartmoor knew and loved Harry. Sure enough, he found a nice chicken potpie stashed in there and he heated up two plates for them. Both of them could always eat.

The early summer evening was warm so Harry threw open the massive glass doors to the pool to let in the night air.

"So,-" Harry began. "What's going on with you?" He placed two large whiskeys in front of them.

Draco took a sip, his first instinct was to brush him off but Harry would never accept that. It was just that Draco didn't much like discussing feelings. Especially his own.

He shrugged as nonchalantly as possible. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh come off it Drake. You know exactly what I mean."

It was true, he knew. He just acted as if he didn't. Because it was easier than to actually put his feelings into words. It felt too raw.

Harry became increasingly exasperated with Draco's continued silence and took a large gulp of the amber liquid. "Right, fine." He frowned angrily. "If you won't say anything, then I will." He wolfed down the last pieces of his pie and sat back in the chair.

Draco braced himself mentally for an onslaught and he was right to.

"What the actual fuck is going through that overly-posh demented mind of yours? Are you so full of yourself that you can't imagine ever being wrong? That you might have it confused at times?" Harry hadn't raised his voice. He was speaking completely calmly and without any inflections, which made what he said even more terrifying.

"I can't even begin to count just how many mistakes you've made over the past few months, the most prominent of them being that insane deal with Chang. You've made choices about your future, your life and your own happiness without even consulting the people who might have a say in too, who might be affected by your choices either way. But oh no, you've just run headfirst into the most vicious witch in all of Britain and congratulated yourself on your brilliant idea. Well done Draco." He actually sneered. "And even then, you've been sulking and whinging like a five year old who's been denied sweets, despite it all being your own goddamn choice."

"You're hurting yourself because your parents and the rest of your family because they would never fully accept her. And by hurting yourself, you're also hurting them because they only want you to be happy. Don't they get a say in this? You're falling on this stupid self-sacrificial cross that you actually don't really have to throw yourself on. Skeeter might have some information and so what? Let her make a scandal. Let her do her worst. It doesn't matter. A scandal will always pass. And you don't even know what information she has."

He took a deep breath and Draco watched his frustrated rant with wide eyes.

"And don't even get me started on the way you're treating Hermione and Ginny. Yes, I've included Ginny in this too because she is your guest. It's literally your job to make sure that both Hermione and Ginny learn the sport of polo, the sport of fucking kings, from your tutelage while they're staying at Dartmoor. They're paying you a fortune for it and you're treating it as a chore, you self-righteous arse."

"I haven't said any of this before because it wasn't my place but you're my friend as well as my employer and I won't have you ruin your life over what frankly is an utterly ridiculous reason."

"So here's what's going to happen: You're going to break it off with Chang, officially. You've never wanted her so why the fuck you would think it would be a good idea to pretend with her for the rest of your life, is beyond me. Right? Anyway, next you've gotta make amends with your friends. You're taking your foul mood out on all of them and they're tip-toeing around you because you explode at every turn."

"And finally, you have to do something about this thing with you and Hermione. You've been too buried up your own arse to actually notice that every time one of those blasted gifts arrive for her, she is mortified. It's not Hermione's fault that Riddle has taken an unusual interest in her, nor can she stop him from sending the gifts if he insists on it. She has given everything he sent to her away, and I found that posh bracelet on the floor of the stables earlier today."

Harry pulled it out of his pocket and slammed it down on the table. "And the reason why I'm not giving you a choice in this is because you're obviously much too capable of fucking up your own life."

Draco was watching it as if transfixed. The diamonds glittered mockingly at him in the light from the pool.

He was struggling to take it all in.

A part of him felt like exploding with fury at Harry's unsolicited impertinence. Because how the hell dare he try to interfere with his personal life? They may be great friends but this was going too far.

But on the other hand, Draco knew very well that Harry didn't actually want to interfere in anything. He'd never wanted to but obviously his frustration had boiled over and released this scolding tirade.

Harry stood and took off his shirt. "So that's it. I've said what I needed to say and I'm going for a swim. Join me if you want."

Which left Draco alone … with nothing but his thoughts.

Shite.

A/N: So, Harry got some extra screen-time here. Did you like it?

Also, I have to advertise for this little one-shot I've uploaded, The trials and tribulations of Draco Malfoy. It's fluffy and sweet. It's about how Draco would react to Hermione being pregnant with their first child.

HBSJ