Harry sat alone in the dimly lit bedroom, his body nestled against the soft sheets of his marital bed. The air was heavy with anticipation and guilt, swirling around him like a forbidden enchantment. A worn-out copy of Quidditch Quarterly lay open in his hands, pages wrinkled and dog-eared from countless perusals.
His emerald eyes scanned the familiar pages, seeking solace in the world of Quidditch that had always brought him joy. But his gaze soon fixated on a centre spread, a captivating image of Viktor Krum, the renowned Bulgarian Seeker. Every inch of the photograph seemed to radiate power and allure. Viktor's muscles rippled beneath his taut skin, his bare chest glistening with sweat as he confidently strode, broom slung effortlessly over his shoulder.
A mixture of longing and desire surged within Harry, making his cheeks burn with a telltale flush. Unbidden, his hand slowly drifted downwards, fingers tracing the contours of his growing arousal. The guilt gnawed at him, threatening to overshadow the pleasure that Viktor's image evoked. He was married to Draco, his beloved husband, yet his heart and desires were torn between the two.
Harry's conflicting emotions battled fiercely within him. He loved Draco with every fibre of his being, their bond forged through years of shared experiences and unconditional affection. But with his allure and magnetism, Viktor had always held a mysterious place in Harry's heart. It was an unspoken yearning, a desire to explore the uncharted territory of what-ifs.
In the depths of his conscience, Harry felt guilt weigh heavily upon him. He knew he had made a vow to Draco, promising to be faithful and devoted. The mere thought of betraying that promise caused a pang of anguish to ripple through his chest. Yet, in the privacy of their bedroom, his vulnerability and desires threatened to overcome his moral compass.
Torn between his love for Draco and the intoxicating allure of Viktor, Harry found himself trapped in an emotional labyrinth. He yearned for the forbidden, the taste of another man's touch yet feared the consequences it would bring. The weight of his guilt intensified with each passing second, casting shadows over the flickering flames of his desires.
As the image of Viktor Krum continued to captivate him, Harry battled with his inner demons. He knew indulging in his fantasies would shatter the trust and love he shared with Draco, leaving irreversible scars on their once-unbreakable bond.
Harry's inner turmoil raged on, and his desire for Viktor grew more intense, overpowering his guilt and inhibitions. The pull became too strong to resist, and with a mix of trepidation and longing, he succumbed to the temptation that had consumed his thoughts.
His hand, trembling with excitement and guilt, continued its descent towards his groin, seeking release and solace in a moment of stolen pleasure. He closed his eyes, his mind filled with images of Viktor's sculpted physique, his powerful presence, and the unspoken promises that lingered beneath the surface.
But as Harry's fingers brushed against his skin, a distant call shattered his stolen reverie. Draco's voice echoed through the corridors, permeating the walls, breaking through the haze of desire. "Harry, could you lend me a hand with dinner? I could use your help."
Startled, Harry's hand froze in mid-air, the grip on the worn pages of the magazine tightening. The reality of his actions crashed down upon him like an avalanche, extinguishing the flames of lust that had consumed him only moments earlier. Guilt washed over him, a bitter reminder of his promises to Draco.
Swallowing hard, Harry took a deep breath, desperately trying to steady himself. He quickly closed the magazine, his face flushed in embarrassment. His heart pounded in his chest, a reminder of the betrayal he had nearly succumbed to.
Harry buried his desires with a heavy sigh, burying them deep in his soul. He knew he couldn't let his longing for Viktor endanger the love he shared with Draco. A pang of regret pierced his heart, but he knew he had made the right choice.
"Coming, Draco," he called out, his voice betraying none of the inner turmoil that had consumed him moments before. He carefully placed the worn-out magazine aside, making a silent vow to himself to confront his desires and find a way to reconcile them with his commitment to his husband.
As he made his way downstairs, a sense of duty settled upon him, reminding him of the love and happiness he had in Draco's arms. The guilt lingered, a shadow that would forever haunt him, but Harry was determined to navigate the complexities of his desires and the constraints of his marriage. He would find a way to honour his commitment and the truth within his heart, no matter the challenges ahead.
Harry watched Draco move around the kitchen, his movements deliberate and precise. Since their relationship had been made public, Draco had become increasingly cold and distant, leaving Harry feeling confused and hurt and one of the reasons his Quidditch Quartley was so worn out. But Harry couldn't give up on their marriage just yet, not after all they had been through together.
Harry couldn't resist the overwhelming urge to bridge the gap between them as he approached Draco. Leaning in, he pressed his lips against Draco's, hoping to ignite the spark that had been missing for far too long. However, Draco pulled away abruptly instead of reciprocating the kiss, scolding Harry for messing up his shirt.
"Harry, look what you've done," Draco chastised, his voice laced with annoyance. "This was my favourite shirt."
Harry's heart sank at Draco's reaction. He had hoped that the simple act of affection would melt the icy barrier that had formed between them. Instead, it seemed to push Draco further away. But Harry couldn't let that deter him.
Ignoring Draco's complaint, Harry mustered up the courage to speak. "Draco, can we talk? I feel like we've been growing apart lately, and I don't want to lose what we have."
Draco's expression softened slightly, but the distance between them remained. He focused on preparing their dinner, his movements meticulous as if trying to distract himself from the conversation.
With a sigh, Harry realised Draco's coldness wasn't just about their relationship; something else was bothering him. "Draco, have you completed your report for the Ministry?" Harry asked, hoping to engage Draco in a conversation that could lead to a deeper understanding.
Draco glanced at Harry briefly, his eyes guarded. "Yes, it's almost done," he replied curtly, not elaborating further.
Harry's heart ached at Draco's dismissive response. Their marriage faced challenges, and communication was crucial for overcoming them. But it seemed like Draco was unwilling to open up, to let Harry in.
As Harry watched Draco continue to cook silently, he realised that rebuilding their connection would take time and patience. He couldn't force Draco to open up, but he could be there for him, willing to listen whenever he was ready to share.
With a heavy heart, Harry decided to give Draco the space he seemed to need for now. But he vowed to himself that he would keep trying, keep fighting for their marriage, no matter how distant Draco became.
"Must you hover about like a bemused Fwooper," Draco asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Harry felt a pang of hurt as Draco's words echoed through the kitchen. He hoped their conversation would lead to a breakthrough, a moment of vulnerability that could bring them closer together again. But instead, Draco's anger only seemed to push them further apart.
Confusion and frustration welled inside Harry, but he knew that reacting with anger would only make things worse. Taking a deep breath, he tried to keep his voice steady. "Draco, I don't understand. What's going on? We need to talk about this."
Draco's face twisted with a mix of anger and sadness. "Talk? Talk about what, Harry?" he spat out. "We've talked enough. I can't stand being around you anymore. Just get out of my way and go to the pub or something. I need some space."
"Fuck you. You asked me to help!"
Harry's heart hurt at the harshness of his words to Draco. The thought of leaving their home felt like a betrayal, even for a short while. But he knew that pushing Draco further would only cause more damage. Swallowing his pride, he nodded silently and stepped aside.
"Fine," Harry said quietly, his voice barely audible. "I'll go. But Draco, please remember that I love you. And if you ever want to talk or work through whatever is going on, I'll be here. Just... just remember that."
Draco's eyes softened briefly, but he quickly turned away, avoiding Harry's gaze. "Yeah, whatever," he muttered, his voice heavy with unresolved emotions.
Harry left the kitchen with his body feeling ungainly, the weight of their crumbling relationship pressing down on him. As he stepped out into the cool evening air, he couldn't help but wonder what had caused Draco's sudden withdrawal and anger.
Harry walked aimlessly through the streets, his mind consumed with thoughts of Draco and their unravelling marriage. He couldn't shake the feeling that something more was happening, something more profound than their recent distance. But he couldn't force Draco to open up; he had to be patient and give him the needed space.
Hours passed, and as Harry returned home, he couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. What if Draco had left? What if he had given up on them? The thought sent a chill down Harry's spine, but he knew he had to face whatever awaited him.
Harry heard a faint sound coming from the living room as he entered their home. Following the noise, he found Draco sitting on the sofa reading a book under the light, the beautiful lampshade that Draco's mother had gifted them.
As Harry entered, Draco stood, his eyes blazing with anger directed wholly at him. Without warning, he pushed Harry forcefully, causing him to stumble backwards.
"What the hell were you thinking, Potter?" Draco sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Agreeing to play a charity seekers game with Viktor Krum? Are you that desperate for attention? Or are you just trying to humiliate me further?"
Harry tried to steady himself, his mind reeling from Draco's sudden outburst. He couldn't understand why Draco was being so cruel and cold, especially about such a good cause.
"I... I thought it would be a good cause, Draco," Harry stammered, his words barely audible. "I didn't think it would upset you this much."
Draco scoffed, his eyes filled with disdain. "Of course, you didn't think, Potter. You never do. You're too busy basking in the glory of being the Savior of the wizarding world. And now, I must endure endless articles about 'sexy Harry Potter' and your blatant disregard for our marriage."
Harry's heart sank at Draco's words. He had never intended to cause Draco pain or embarrassment. All he wanted was to contribute to the charity and make a difference. But it seemed like anything he did was never enough for Draco.
"I'm sorry if my actions have upset you, Draco," Harry said, his voice laced with genuine remorse. "But I do take my work seriously and care about our image as a couple. I thought I was doing something good. I didn't realise it would affect you like this."
Draco's eyes narrowed, his anger still evident. "You're pathetic, Potter. Always seeking attention and validation from others. You should focus on your responsibilities and the image you should portray. But instead, you're out there, playing childish games and making a mockery of our marriage."
Harry's heart shattered at Draco's words. He had hoped that they could find solace in each other through their struggles, but it seemed like Draco had built an impenetrable wall around himself. The hurt and isolation were overwhelming, but Harry refused to give up.
"Draco, I love you," Harry said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I never want to humiliate or hurt you. If there's something else going on, if there's something you want to talk about, please, let me in. We can work through this together."
Draco's expression hardened, and he scoffed dismissively. "Talk? What's the point, Potter? You never listen. You're always too busy playing the hero, saving the world. Well, newsflash, not everything can be solved with a wave of your wand."
Harry felt a surge of frustration rise within him, but he took a deep breath, reminding himself to stay calm. "Draco, I'm not trying to play the hero or seek attention. I genuinely thought this would be a way to help others. But I won't do it if it's causing you this much distress. Our relationship is more important to me."
Draco's features softened slightly, but the bitterness remained in his voice. "Oh, how noble of you, Potter. Sacrificing your little game for the sake of our relationship. But it's not just about this one incident. It's about the constant disregard, the lack of consideration. I'm tired of playing second fiddle to your heroic stunts."
Harry blanched at Draco's words, realising that their problems were more profound than a charity seekers game. It was about their different perspectives and their unspoken expectations. He knew they needed to address these issues, to understand each other's needs truly.
"I'm sorry if I've made you feel that way, Draco," Harry replied, his voice tinged with remorse. "I never intended to make you feel insignificant. Let's sit down and talk, really talk, about what's been going on between us. Maybe if we can understand each other better, we can find a way to bridge this gap."
Draco hesitated, his eyes flickering with a mix of anger and vulnerability. After a moment, he sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Fine, Potter. Talk. But don't expect me to open up easily. We have much to work through, and it won't be solved overnight."
Relief washed over Harry as he saw a glimmer of willingness in Draco's response. He knew their journey toward healing and rebuilding trust would be challenging, but he was determined to fight for their marriage.
"Thank you, Draco," Harry said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'm willing to put in the effort, listen, and work on our relationship. We can find a way to reconnect and rediscover the love we once had."
Draco nodded, his expression guarded but not entirely closed off. "We'll see, Potter. But don't think this changes..."
A sudden interruption shattered the tense atmosphere as Harry and Draco attempted to navigate their conversation. Ron's head appeared in the fireplace, his face flushed with excitement.
"Harry! Mate, I don't fucking believe it!" Ron exclaimed, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I just heard that you're playing against Viktor Krum as a seeker in the charity game! Remember in the fourth year? Your little crush on him? This is too good!"
Harry's face flushed with embarrassment as Ron's teasing words hit him. He glanced at Draco, hoping for some understanding or support, but instead, he found Draco's face contorted with anger. Before Harry could react, Draco's wand was in his hand, and in a fit of rage, he sent a powerful spell toward a nearby cabinet, obliterating it into splintered pieces.
The force of the spell echoed through the room, the sound mingling with the crashing of the cabinet. Silence hung heavy in the air as the remnants of the destroyed cabinet settled around them. Draco's chest heaved with anger, and his eyes blazed with fury, the hurt burning Harry down to his soul.
"I can't take this anymore!" Draco shouted, his voice filled with venom. "We are always in the shadow of Viktor Krum, aren't we, Potter? Still, hung up on your little crush from years ago? Maybe you should just marry him since he's clearly more important to you! I mean, if that tatty magazine is anything to go by, I guess that is why I haven't seen your cock in fucking months!"
Harry felt the weight of Draco's words crash upon him, the pain cutting deep into his heart. The room spun around him as he struggled to comprehend the sudden escalation of their argument. He had never expected Draco's anger to reach such intense levels, and the thought of their marriage crumbling, much like their once beautiful cabinet, before his eyes filled him with despair.
Harry was desperate as he tried to find the right words to salvage what was left of their relationship. "Draco, please, listen to me," he pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion. "I never meant this to happen, and I don't want to lose you. You are the one I love and chose to be with."
But Draco's face remained twisted with rage, his eyes gleaming with betrayal. "Love? Is that what you call it? You're too caught up in your own world, Potter, to see the damage you're causing. I can't keep living like this. Choose me, did you? Oh, how fucking noble of you. Should I get on my hands in knees and kiss your feet in supplication, of glorious chosen one?" Draco was breathing heavily as his words echoed around the room, and after a long silence, those four dreaded words left his lips.
"Our marriage is over."
The words hung in the air, heavy with finality. The room seemed to spin around Harry as Draco marched out of the room.
The room fell into an awkward and heavy silence, broken only by the sound of Harry's quiet sobs. It felt like Draco's anger lingered in the air, Harry grappling with the devastating blow their marriage had just endured.
Suddenly, Ron's head began to talk, clearly having been there this whole time, his face looking oblivious to the tension that had filled the room. "Well, that was intense! Sorry about that, mate," Ron said, attempting to inject some levity into the situation. "But seriously, Harry, you and Viktor Krum? Is this some sort of Seeker's love affair? Get it? Ha-ha!"
Harry's tear-stained face turned towards Ron, a mixture of pain and frustration etched across his features. "Ron, not now. Please."
Before Ron could respond, Hermione's head emerged beside him, her expression stern and disapproving. "Ronald Weasley, don't you have any sense of decorum? Can't you see that this is a private matter? Leave Harry alone."
Ron rolled his eyes, his playful expression quickly changing to irritation. "Oh, come off it, Hermione. I'm just trying to lighten the mood."
Hermione's eyebrows pulled down into a vicious scowl, her voice laced with exasperation. "Lighten the mood? This is hardly the time or place for your jokes, Ron. Show some respect."
The two heads continued to bicker, their heated argument filling the room. Harry's tears continued to flow as their voices mixed with the weight of his shattered marriage. The pain in his soul seemed unbearable, and he felt his entire world collapsing around him.
Finally, Hermione's voice rose above Ron's, commanding and firm. "Ron, that's enough. Leave Harry alone and let him have some space to process everything."
Ron grumbled, but he obeyed Hermione's command, and the two heads vanished from the fireplace, leaving Harry in silence once more.
Harry's sobs grew louder as the room fell into a heavy stillness, his body trembling with the weight of his emotions. The front door slamming shut echoed through the house, shaking the foundation of their shared home.
Harry's spirit dropped as he realised that Draco had left. The finality of it hit him like a tidal wave, and he sank to his knees, tears flowing freely. Despair consumed him as he clutched his chest, feeling like a piece of his soul had been ripped away.
Amid his grief, Harry vowed to himself that he would find a way to mend their broken marriage. He couldn't bear the thought of losing Draco, the love of his life, without a fight. With determination in his eyes, he wiped away his tears and stood up.
Harry took a deep breath, willing himself to be strong. He couldn't change what had happened, but he could take control of his own actions. He had to find Draco, to talk and to try to salvage what was left of their relationship.
Quickly, Harry rushed to the front door, flinging it open. The cold night air greeted him, and he scanned the darkness, hoping to catch a glimpse of Draco. But there was no sign of him.
Tears still streaming down his face, Harry called out Draco's name, his voice choked with emotion. "Draco, please! Don't leave like this. We need to talk. Please come back."
His plea hung in the air, unanswered. The weight of the silence crushed Harry's core, but he refused to give up. With determination in his heart, he grabbed his coat and Apparated to the one place he thought Draco might seek solace - their favourite spot by the lake.
As Harry arrived at the serene lakeside, his heart clenched at the sight before him. Draco stood at the edge, his shoulders slumped and his gaze distant. The moon's reflection shimmered on the water, mirroring the pain etched across Draco's face.
"Draco," Harry whispered, his voice filled with desperation and hope. "Please, let's talk. Let me in. I don't want to lose you."
Draco turned his head slowly, meeting Harry's gaze with sadness and anger. "Harry, I... I don't know if we can fix this," he muttered, his voice trembling. "I'm so tired of feeling like I'm not enough, like I'm always in your shadow."
Harry took a step closer, his voice filled with conviction. "You are more than enough, Draco. I've made mistakes, I know. But I love you, and I want to fight for us. We can find a way to rebuild, to heal."
Draco's shoulders shook as he struggled to hold back his tears. "I don't know if I can do this anymore, Harry," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "But I don't want to lose you either."
Harry reached out and pushed a loose strand of Draco's beautiful hair behind his ear as he moved forward and pressed his lips to Draco.
Amid their emotional conversation by the lake, Harry took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts. He knew he had to address the underlying issues causing Draco's insecurity and anger.
"Draco, please listen to me," Harry began, his voice steady but filled with empathy. "Viktor was just a schoolboy crush. He was a fleeting infatuation that meant nothing compared to what we have. I never wanted to hurt you, and I'm sorry if my past mistakes have threatened you."
Draco's eyes narrowed, and his fists clenched at his sides. "You don't understand, Harry," he spat out, his voice laced with bitterness. "You were always the chosen one, the golden boy. I've spent years feeling like I'm second best, always living in your shadow. And now, even after all this time, you still can't assure me I'm the one you truly want."
Harry's mind throbbed as he saw the pain and anger consuming Draco. He took a cautious step forward, his voice filled with sincerity. "Draco, I've made mistakes but always loved you. I've never stopped loving you. You are the love of my life, and I don't want to lose you. I want to make things right."
Draco's face twisted with frustration, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Words, Harry. It's always just words. Our physical relationship has become stale and boring. You're distant, always preoccupied with work and your own problems. I need more than empty promises. I need to feel wanted, desired, loved."
Harry's heart shattered at Draco's words. He had been so caught up in his own struggles that he hadn't noticed the distance growing between them. "Draco, I'm so sorry," Harry pleaded, his voice filled with remorse. "I've been blind to my own shortcomings. But we can work on this together. We can find our way back to each other."
But Draco's anger peaked, and he pointed his wand at Harry. "It's over, Harry. Don't you dare follow me again," he seethed, his voice filled with venom. And with a swift motion, Draco stunned Harry, leaving him lying on the ground, helpless and broken.
As Draco apparated away, Harry's mind spun in pain, confusion, and determination. He knew he couldn't give up on their love, even in the face of his conflicted and complicated life.
Harry sat under a crimson knitted blanket, a lovely gift from Mrs Wealsey last Christmas, as an Owl fluttered and landed on the coffee table. Harry took the yellow parchment with weak hands and scratched the tawny own under its peak, which granted him a tiny hoot.
The owl's message was brief, cold, and distant. It confirmed Harry's worst fears - Draco had made it official that their marriage was over. The words stung like ice against Harry's skin, and tears welled in his eyes as he read them.
With trembling hands, Harry set the letter down on the table and buried his face in his palms. His body shook with sobs, the weight of loss and rejection crashing down upon him. He had fought so hard, put his heart on the line, but it seemed all his efforts had been in vain.
A second owl swooped through the window as if fate was playing a cruel joke on him. Harry reluctantly opened the letter, his heart sinking even further. It reminded him of his upcoming Seeker's match against Viktor Krum, which now felt meaningless and hollow.
Anger surged through Harry, fueling his determination. With a flick of his wand, he set both letters on fire, watching the flames consume the remnants of his shattered hopes. He couldn't bear the thought of Draco's coldness and the reminder of his past infatuation with Viktor.
With bloodshot eyes and a mind clouded by hurt, Harry grabbed his coat and stormed into London's cold, rain-soaked streets. The raindrops mingled with his tears, the wetness seeping into his clothes, mirroring the storm raging within him.
Each step felt heavy and deliberate as he trudged through the city, his thoughts filled with bitterness and resentment towards Draco. He couldn't understand how their love had crumbled so completely, how Draco could turn his back on everything they had shared.
The dim streetlights cast a melancholic glow on the wet pavement, illuminating Harry's tortured expression. His mind replayed memories of their happier days, the laughter, and intimacy, which only deepened his anguish. He felt betrayed, discarded, and the anger burned hotter within him.
Finally, he reached the familiar door of a small, dimly lit pub. The scent of cigarettes and alcohol mingled in the air, and Harry pushed open the door, stepping into the warmth and noise that enveloped him. He found solace in the anonymity of the crowded room, the clamour drowning out his thoughts.
Ordering a pint, Harry sat at the bar, his thoughts consumed by the bitter taste of his failed marriage. He drowned his sorrows in each sip, the alcohol numbing his pain temporarily.
Lost in his thoughts, a deep, timbre voice cut through the noisy atmosphere. It was a voice that sparked a mixture of shock and familiarity within him. Slowly, he turned his head towards the source, and his heart skipped a beat as he locked eyes with Viktor Krum.
Viktor stood tall and powerful, his presence commanding attention. His dark eyes held a hint of mystery, and his muscular form exuded strength. Harry's gaze involuntarily wandered t the significant bulge between Viktor's legs, causing Harry to swallow heavily against his dry mouth.
Silence passed between them, charged with unspoken memories and desires. Then, with a slight smile playing on his lips, Viktor sat beside Harry. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, his accent thick and intriguing.
Still taken aback by Viktor's unexpected presence, Harry managed to nod, his voice slightly shaky. "Sure, please, have a seat."
They sat silently for a while, the weight of their shared history hanging in the air. Finally, Viktor broke the silence. "Are you excited about our upcoming Seeker's match, Harry? You've always had a talent for flying."
Harry's mind raced with conflicting emotions. Viktor was a reminder of his past infatuation that had caused turmoil in his marriage with Draco. But at the same time, there was a magnetic pull, a familiarity that drew him towards Viktor's enigmatic presence.
"Yeah, I guess flying has always been my thing," Harry replied, his voice tinged with nostalgia and threads of regret. "But sometimes, it feels like the only thing I have left."
Viktor's eyes held a mix of understanding and compassion. "Sometimes, we hold on to what we're good at because it's familiar and comfortable. But maybe, it's time to let go of what no longer serves us and find something new."
Harry's heart skipped a beat at Viktor's words, their underlying meaning not lost on him. It felt like a gentle nudge, a reminder that life was beyond the shattered fragments of his broken marriage.
As they continued talking, Harry slowly opened up to Viktor, sharing his pain and regrets. Viktor, in turn, shared his own experiences of heartbreak and growth. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, a mixture of light banter and moments of vulnerability.
As Harry and Viktor continued to flirt and discuss their upcoming Seeker's match, the atmosphere grew increasingly charged with desire. The drinks flowed, their laughter filled the air, and a longing pressed deep within Harry's core with each passing moment.
In the quiet corner of the bar where they had moved to a few hours earlier, their thighs lightly brushed against each other, sending shivers down Harry's spine. He couldn't help but be drawn to Viktor's magnetic presence, his dark eyes reflecting a shared yearning.
Just as Harry leaned in, ready to bridge the gap between them with a kiss, a voice shattered the moment. "Oh, of course," Draco's voice rang out, filled with bitterness and disappointment. Harry's heart plummeted as he looked up, seeing Draco standing at the bar entrance, his eyes filled with hurt.
Guilt washed over Harry as he scrambled to his feet, his mind racing to find the right words and actions to salvage their broken marriage. He rushed after Draco, the rain pouring heavily from the skies, mirroring the turmoil within his soul.
With desperation gripping him, Harry reached out and grabbed Draco's shoulder, forcing him to halt. Falling to his knees, he begged Draco not to end their relationship this way. Raindrops mingled with his tears, mixing with the anguish etched across his face.
But Draco's voice was resigned as he looked down at Harry, his expression hardened. "Clearly, I wasn't missed," he spat out, his words laced with a painful truth. "I came here to tell you that sending that letter was wrong, but now I know it's beyond repair. It's over, Harry."
Draco wrenched himself free from Harry's grip with a swift pull, his expression laced with anger and perhaps a flicker of sorrow. And with a twist of his heel, he vanished with a resounding pop, leaving Harry kneeling alone in the downpour.
Rain soaked through Harry's clothes, chilling him to the bone as he remained rooted in place, his heart shattered beyond repair. The world around him blurred with his tears, mirroring the storm brewing within him.
Despair engulfed him as he realised that he had let everything slip away, that his actions had pushed Draco further into the arms of disillusionment. The rain poured down relentlessly, swathing him in a symphony of sorrow.
Slowly, Harry rose to his feet, his body heavy with the weight of his mistakes. The rain plastered his hair to his forehead, the droplets mingling with his tears.
In a drunken haze, Harry stumbled through the rain-soaked streets, his mind clouded with regret and heartache. He shivered from the cold, his clothes clinging to his damp skin, as he made his way back to the home he had once shared with Draco.
Just as he reached his street, his legs threatening to give way, a strong arm wrapped around his waist, supporting him. Harry leaned into the warmth and strength, finding solace in the familiar scent that enveloped him. It was Viktor Krum, his presence now a lifeline in this moment of despair.
Viktor's concerned voice cut through the noise of the rain. "Where do you live, Harry?" he asked, his tone filled with genuine worry.
Harry struggled to gather his thoughts, his speech slurred from the alcohol. "Here," he managed to mumble, gesturing towards the door of the house. "This used to be our home, Draco and mine."
The revelation hung heavily in the air, and Viktor's grip on Harry tightened almost imperceptibly. "I'm sorry," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "I never meant to cause Draco any pain. I didn't expect to see you tonight, and I didn't anticipate the turmoil it would bring."
Harry, his head swimming with conflicting emotions, looked up at Viktor, his eyes glazed with tears. "It's not your fault," he whispered, his voice laced with longing when it should have been laced with regret. "Our marriage was already broken, shattered by my mistakes."
Viktor's expression softened, his eyes reflecting a deep understanding. "Sometimes, love isn't enough to mend what's been broken," he said, his voice tinged with sadness. "But that doesn't mean we have to carry the weight of our past forever."
Harry's heart ached at Viktor's words, his vulnerability shining through. He found solace in the genuine compassion radiating from Viktor's presence, a beacon of hope in the darkness surrounding him.
Together, they stood on the doorstep, rain cascading around them, their shared pain and regrets mingling in the air. And in that moment, Harry felt a flicker of something new that held the potential for healing and growth.
As they continued to talk, their words whispered against the backdrop of the rain. Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude. Despite the pain and the shattered pieces of his marriage, he had found solace in the unlikely presence of Viktor Krum.
Viktor gently guided Harry inside the house, directing him to the sofa and helping him settle down. He left Harry alone for a few moments, giving him space to collect his thoughts and find some semblance of composure amidst the chaos of his emotions.
When Viktor returned, he carried a steaming cup of tea and a glass of water. He placed them on the coffee table before Harry, his gaze filled with concern. "Drink both," he instructed softly, his voice carrying a soothing tone. "The tea will warm you up, and the water will help with the dehydration."
As Harry obediently followed Viktor's instructions, he couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. His body ached for the touch of another, for the connection that had been building between him and Viktor. But Viktor's bittersweet words held a truth that Harry couldn't ignore.
Nursing his tea, Harry looked up at Viktor, his eyes filled with longing. "I want you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "But you're right. I'm not in the right headspace for anything physical, and it would only complicate things further."
Viktor's expression softened, his gaze filled with understanding. He reached out and gently cupped Harry's face, his touch tender and full of compassion. "I want you too, Harry," he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of desire and regret. "But I don't want to be the reason for any more pain in your life. And I don't want to be the cause of irreparable damage between you and Draco."
Feeling a mix of gratitude and sadness, Harry leaned into Viktor's touch, savouring the warmth and comfort it brought him. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice laced with emotions. "Thank you for being here for me, for understanding and caring."
Viktor leaned in, kissing the back of Harry's hand softly, his lips lingering there momentarily. "You don't have to thank me, Harry," he said softly. "Sometimes, all we need is someone to listen, to offer support without expecting anything in return."
With that, Viktor pulled away, his eyes filled with longing and resignation. He turned towards the door, his hand resting on the doorknob. "Take care, Harry," he said, his voice filled with a melancholic note. "I hope you find the happiness and healing you deserve."
