Forgotten Not Forgiven

Author’s Note: Thanks to Laurel for her beta-reading.

Chapter 11 Unforgivable

Harry paced the long expanse of the Weasley’s living room as he waited for Draco to arrive. He’d been out all day looking at the flats Draco had bought up and finally found one he liked. The paperwork was sent to Draco’s assistant as instructed but he’d yet to hear back about it. Hermione sat in an armchair by the door reading a book that was larger than Harry’s head but he was paying her little attention as he wrung his hands anxiously and strode back and forth along the room.

“Harry, you’re going to wear a hole in my rug,” Hermione pointed out sharply as she closed her book and set it aside.

“I’ll buy you a new one if I do,” he replied without breaking his stride.

“Are you going to buy me a new brain as well? Because this,” she snapped, gesturing to his nervous pacing, “is driving me batty.”

Harry stopped and balled his hands into fists at his side. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Mione,” he admitted worriedly. “I don’t know why I agreed to it.”

“Quite frankly I don’t either,” she huffed, “but if it’s making you this anxious you should just Owl him and cancel.”

“I want to,” he told her quietly, but his tone held an apprehensiveness he couldn’t explain.

“But?” she goaded, waving her hand about and indicating that he should just spit it out already. Having Harry under her roof for the past few weeks was making her a little anxious herself. The walls were thin and their bedrooms butted right up against one another, and quite frankly, she missed her husband.

“But I don’t,” he added unhelpfully and she sighed in response.

“Harry, what in Merlin’s name compelled you to agree to a date with Draco Malfoy in the first place?” she asked, not for the first time since Harry had gotten home from work.

“I don’t know,” he groaned, leaning against one of the white columns that separated the foyer from the living room. “He was being so nice and I just…gave in.”

“I don’t trust him one bit,” she stated unnecessarily. It was quite obvious what Hermione thought of Draco; Harry felt the same way…most of the time. “I don’t know what he’s up to but he’s already used Ginny. Are you going to let him use you too?”

“No,” Harry replied firmly with a blaze in his eyes that Hermione hadn’t seen there in a long time. “I’m being cautious. It’s just… I like him, Mione.”

“Does this have anything to do with Allen being back in London?” she asked and Harry’s eyes went wide.

“Allen?” he asked, gaping slightly. “My Allen?”

“You didn’t know,” she whispered, chastising herself silently for elevating Harry’s anxiety even more than it was already. “He just got in yesterday. I saw him in the Ministry lift on my way to visit Ron for lunch. I’m sorry, Harry. I thought you knew.”

“No,” he replied, shaking his head softly as if in a daze. “Why is he here?”

“He didn’t say. I deduced it was something Auror related which was why I assumed you knew all about it,” she replied.

“Fuck,” Harry groaned in frustration, carding his hand through his already wild ebony mane. “I don’t need this right now.” Hermione was the only one Harry had told about the incident with Allen. She knew about the kiss, his extreme embarrassment after the confrontation, and even Harry’s guilt over forcing the man out of the country. He hadn’t seen his old partner in almost three years and that was fine by him. The humiliation of his mistake flooded over him anew just knowing the man was in the same city as he was, and had been in the same building earlier that day. Harry thought he should have been able to feel such a ripple of change in his life the moment Allen Portkeyed in.

However, the doorbell rang before he was able to give himself ample time to think about the implications of his old Auror partner being back in town. Harry cast a furtive glance at the door before shooting an apologetic look toward Hermione. He knew she would prefer Harry stay away from the blond, but something inside of him wouldn’t allow it.

He resisted the urge to jerk open the door and glare the Slytherin down. Harry knew that if he tried he could probably find a way to pin the fault on Malfoy for everything that had gone wrong in his life – ever – but he was an adult, and well beyond having tantrums and blame games. At least, that is what he told himself repeatedly as he gently pulled the door open to reveal his handsome dinner date.

“Malfoy,” he greeted and Draco’s grin faltered slightly.

“I’d really prefer it if you called me Draco,” he replied and Harry could hear the scoff from Hermione. Funnily enough it sounded as though it came from much closer than the armchair across the room and Harry peaked around the corner to see her leaning against the short wall that blocked her view of the door.

“Sneaky little eavesdropper,” Harry whispered and she jumped, having not seen him notice her, and blushed slightly at being caught. She didn’t move back to her chair though and Harry simply rolled his eyes. “We’ll see,” he answered Draco. He could think about Draco using his first name, and in the past he was certain that he’d used it in conversation with the man a few times before, or even with Ginny, but that was a different time. It was before he had known about the elaborate scheme and betrayal the Slytherin had concocted in order to win his affections.

“I suppose that’s all I can ask,” the blond replied, though by the gleam in his eyes Malfoy looked prepared to ask for quite a lot over the duration of their date.

“I guess we should get going,” Harry muttered, wanting to have cleared the cottage by the time Ron got home from the Burrow. The last thing he needed was to have the redhead explode all over him at the sight of him leaving with the man who had buggered his sister behind his back. He wouldn’t even know how to begin to explain it when he didn’t even understand it himself.

Draco offered his hand, but all Harry did was look at it pointedly. After a moment Draco pulled it away and shoved it back in his robe pocket, his haughty features taking on a fragment of injury for a fraction of a second. He cleared his throat sharply and gave Harry a curt nod. “I was thinking Amarillo’s,” he stated.

“I’m not familiar with it,” Harry admitted and clasped the other man’s shoulder so Draco could Apparate them both there. He immediately felt a slight tug in his stomach as the telltale nausea he always experienced when Apparating came and went and then Harry found himself standing on a slate landing directly in front of a rich looking glass door.

Draco opened it and gestured for Harry to enter; even though it felt peculiar having someone hold the door for him, he decided to comply rather than make a scene. It seemed he was bound to come to this crossroad several times tonight - remain quietly polite, or cause a scene – he hadn’t been able to find a gray area with Malfoy that he was comfortable with just yet.

The room was flooded with amber light, which gave the ivory linens and dark woods a very warm feel, as the couple was directed to a booth in the back of the restaurant. Harry made himself busy by scanning the menu; an eclectic mix of meals from several regions and all with an overpriced tag. As he searched the list for something appealing, he tried not to think about Allen or the fact that this was hands down the most awkward date he’d ever had.

“I nearly forgot,” Draco remarked, interrupting the uncomfortable silence that had settled around them. He pulled from his robes a set of parchments and slid them across the table. Harry knew what they were before he even bothered picking them up and he smiled. “It’s all taken care of. I’ve signed them and so has the realtor. You can move in as soon as you like.”

Harry felt a little like a prostitute getting his payment upfront but he gave a nod of thanks and put the documents away, happy to finally have a place of his own. He was so excited he might even stay there tonight rather then have to creep into the Weasley cottage, and just hope Hermione wasn’t waiting up for him like a concerned parent. “Thanks for this,” he replied at last.

“It was the least I could do,” Draco assured him. “It was wrong to try and manipulate you, Harry. I see that now, truly.”

Harry swallowed thickly and nodded before refocusing on his menu. Draco sighed and pulled the leather bound parchment down so that he could gaze into those emerald orbs. “Harry, listen to me. I know what I did was…unconventional, but you have to know that I did it all for you. I want to give you the life you deserve to have, but you wouldn’t have accepted that from me until your old life was gone. Do you understand?”

Harry took a moment to breathe, opening his mouth to speak once or twice before snapping it sharply closed again. “No,” he replied at last. “I don’t.” Draco winced but Harry pressed on. “I don’t understand how you could purposefully hurt the one you profess to care for. I don’t know how you could justify taking everything away from me so that you could replace it all with what you see as fit for my life, I don’t understand how you could be this gracious and beautiful person while at the same time a rotten manipulative bastard,” he finished, careful not to let his voice rise so that the other table could hear their exchange.

“You’re right,” Draco sighed, folding his menu and placing it to the side. “I am all those things and so much more. I’m cunning and ruthless and generous and adoring. I have a duplicity within me that has baffled everyone around me, even my own parents, but I want you, Harry, and I’ll mold myself into whatever you want me to be if I can one day call you mine.”

“No!” Harry hissed, his voice sharp and demanding, but still low enough not to draw unwanted attention. “I want no such thing. I don’t need any more lies in my life. I don’t need to be wondering if I’m dating the real Draco Malfoy or the pretense he’s constructed for my pleasure. When I decide to love a person I love all of that person. I love Hermione for both her caring nature and her ability to annoy the piss out of me; I love Ron for his unmatched enthusiasm and his innate greediness. I don’t need anyone to placate to me.”

“Do you think you could ever love all of me, Harry?” Draco asked softly. His face was an icily detached mask but his eyes were shining with hope and fear all at once; he looked strangely vulnerable and Harry had to wonder how much of this behavior was real, and how much was an act.

“I honestly don’t know,” Harry admitted with a sigh, letting his shoulders relax as if a huge weight had been lifted. “There are a lot of questions that I need to answer for myself before I could ever know the answer to that.”

Draco took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, nodding slightly as he finished. “I can wait,” he confirmed and Harry gave him a soft smile that was more than enough reward for Draco at that moment. “The duck is exquisite,” he added, pointing to the menu and changing the subject so deftly that they might have been talking about the restaurants offerings all along.

“I don’t much like duck,” Harry replied with a twitch of disgust.

“Have you actually tried it?” Draco asked knowingly and Harry blushed and shook his head.

“It just seems wrong,” Harry admitted with a shrug.

Draco laughed and the smile he directed at his date was so full of warmth that Harry nearly gasped from the feelings of tightness it stirred within him. These were familiar emotions, things he was used to feeling in the blond’s presence, feelings that almost outweighed the injury he felt when he thought of what Draco had done to get here with him now. Almost.

“If I order the duck will you try it?” the blond asked and Harry shrugged again.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try something new,” he replied, not entirely speaking of his meal options. Draco seemed to realize this as well and leveled his steely gaze on his date.

“No, it wouldn’t,” he agreed.

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Harry ended up ordering a roasted chicken dish, but hardly touched it after he’d tasted Draco’s duck. Draco knew exactly what he was talking about when he suggested it and the blond suggested they share it since the portions were so large. Malfoy seemed to relish watching Harry enjoy the dish and Harry tried very hard not to be bashful about being the center of someone’s attention.

Their conversation remained light and amicable as Harry and Draco both purposefully steered clear of heavier topics like cheating wives and manipulative Slytherins. By the end of the night, the combination of friendly banter and a smidgeon too much wine had Harry feeling the fluttering of butterflies he’d felt at the Annual Gala so many years ago.

“You’re pissed,” Draco laughed as Harry stumbled against him on their way out.

“Am not,” he protested, finding the sensation of being pressed into Draco’s warm flesh more intoxicating than the wine had been.

Draco threaded his arm around the other man’s waist to steady him, chuckling darkly as Harry leaned more fully into him. “You’re rather cute when you drink too much.”

“You’re rather cute all the time,” Harry blurted, slapping a hand over his mouth while Draco chuckled. The man’s gray eyes darkened with lust as he took in Harry’s wine darkened lips and wide green eyes, and all laughter between them quieted to a dull hush of labored breathing.

“I want to kiss you so badly, Harry,” Draco whispered, his voice throaty and gruff. “If it’s not what you want too then I need you to warn me off now.”

Harry remained still, his silence invitation enough as Draco leaned in to capture the brunet’s lips in a heated kiss. It was soft at first, almost tender as the blond ran his tongue cautiously along Harry’s bottom lip in a plea for entrance. When Harry opened his mouth, he was immediately flooded with the taste of Draco, wine, duck and something more, something sweet and imperceptivity unique in flavor.

It was quite a rush to be kissing Draco Malfoy in a tiny alleyway outside an expensive wizarding restaurant. He could feel how eager the blond was, held taut like a bowstring waiting for Harry to dictate where this first encounter would lead. All Harry could think about was Draco’s hot mouth and tongue and the nimble fingers holding him close. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

“Hotel,” Harry rasped when they parted for a second of air. Draco’s brow creased, an eyebrow lifting in question, but Harry simply rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you don’t know of any hotels we could go to,” he quipped and Draco nodded once before Harry felt the twist in his gut from Apparition.

All Draco had to do was nod at the receptionist in the front lobby as he pulled Harry along to the elevator. Harry’s breath caught in his throat as Draco kissed him again the second the lift doors shut, pressing him against the wall of the moving car as it progressed upward. When the lift finally came to a halt, Draco led Harry down a short hall to a set of double doors before quickly extracting his wand and flicking it at the barrier. A green light went off in the little electronic scanner attached to the wall and Draco pushed them through the entrance before slamming the doors shut behind him.

“They just let you use whatever room you like?” Harry asked with a laugh.

“I own the hotel. This is my permanent room here,” he explained. Harry looked around briefly, his eyes flicking to the wide expanse of windows on the far side of the room and he knew at once where they were.

“You own the Baglioni?” Harry asked, his frown returning.

“Yes,” Draco confirmed softly, assuming he knew where Harry’s ire came from. “I never brought her to this room,” he assured his date. “Never here, I swear it.”

Harry took a deep breath and nodded, suddenly quite sober. “I believe you,” he told the blond, and he did. He couldn’t understand why, but he did.

Draco looked relieved before he sidled up next to Harry and resumed their kiss. Pale fingers brushed his face and feathered through his tousled hair and a soft moan escaped Harry’s mouth. It had been so long since he’d been intimate with anyone, and here was this Slytherin god before him with soft blond hair, striking features, and a body that made Harry feel like he would die if he didn’t touch every inch of it. The man claimed he wanted him, confessed a love so deep for Harry that it drove the blond to do utterly mad things; Harry shivered, the man was his own to do with as he pleased.

Working his fingers beneath Draco’s robes, Harry carefully let them slide to the floor before attacking the first button on the blond’s shirt and working down until he conquered them all. Draco gasped when Harry’s heated grip clutched at his bare hips and slinked up his back, confidently stripping the shirt from his arms before latching his mouth on the other man’s neck.

“Fuck, Harry,” the man moaned against the shell of Harry’s ear as he wrestled with Harry’s own robes and shirt until bare flesh met bare flesh and they both gasped at the spark that emanated from their sudden contact.

Harry fumbled with the blond’s trousers as he guided him toward the bed, watching as they created a thick black pool around his ankles. When they were both down to boxers – Harry’s ivory and Draco’s black, remaining perfectly opposite even down to their undergarments – Harry stole another kiss from his date before shoving him to the bed and straddling his lap.

Draco could hardly believe how bold and confident Harry was in the bedroom, especially considering the many odds against him. He suspected the brunet was still distrustful of him, and he was fairly certain Harry had never been with another man before. None of that would logically allow for the smooth sense of calm that was dripping from Harry’s very pores, but Draco closed his eyes and went with it. When he felt hot fingers slip beneath the waistband of his boxers, Draco opened his eyes and drank in the appreciative leer Harry bestowed upon him at seeing him nude for the first time.

“Absolutely stunning,” Harry murmured as he carefully stroked everywhere but the erection that was straining for Harry’s attention. Draco was so turned on that he thought he might burst if he didn’t get relief soon. Harry was more delicious than Draco had the nerve to expect and he could hardly wait to feel the man fill him up until he was spilling over with pleasure. Never in all his time with Ginevra had Draco had an orgasm that wasn’t faked with a bit of magic and acting. It was difficult enough to even get hard for her when all he wanted was her husband, but now all those terrible trials were behind him.

He had Harry Potter at last, and after tonight he would cherish and adore him as a partner should, as Ginevra never had. Harry would be his best friend, his confidant, his lover and Draco would see to it that the man wanted for nothing.

Soft cords tightened around his wrists and Draco looked up to see Harry directing magic from his very fingertips into the air around them. He was so busy being awed by the wandless magic that he didn’t notice at first when similar cords bound his ankles as well. “I didn’t take you for having a bondage fetish, Harry,” Draco teased, his eyes drinking in the mostly naked brunet straddling his lap.

“I don’t,” Harry replied and leaned in to kiss Draco softly on the mouth before biting sharply into the man’s bottom lip.

Draco yelped and stared up at Harry, panic lacing through him for the first time. “What are you up to, Potter?”

“Do you trust me?” Harry asked, his voice dripping with seduction. After a slight pause, Draco nodded cautiously and Harry laughed. “Well, perhaps you shouldn’t.”

“Untie me, Harry,” Draco demanded, his voice growing shrill. He didn’t understand this shift in his love’s personality, he didn’t like it - He wanted to touch Harry again, kiss him, and hold him.

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Harry said as he removed himself from the bed and pulled his trousers back on before rummaging in Draco’s robes until he found the blond’s hawthorn wand. Harry smirked down at the bound man as he dangled it just out of his reach.

“Harry, what’s going on?” Draco asked in a wavering tone.

“Who the fuck did you think you were toying with, Malfoy?” Harry shouted angrily.

“What do you mean?” Draco asked, worry and fear guiding his voice now. “I don’t understand, Harry.”

“You ruined my fucking life, Malfoy,” he spat. “You took your selfish want for me and twisted it until it was sullied and unclean and then you used it against me. You tore apart my marriage; you did everything in your power to manipulate me into your life. Who the fuck do you think I am, Malfoy?” he asked again.

“You’re my Harry,” Draco replied, nearly sobbing.

“I’m not yours,” Harry hissed. “I never was. You have no authority over my heart. Do you hear me? I’m Harry bloody Potter and I will love who I choose, not who you trick and manipulate me into being with. Is that understood?” he asked, his tone soft and menacing.

Draco nodded vehemently and Harry stood to his full height once more, letting Draco see him as he was: beautiful, powerful, cunning and proud. In a way he should be thanking the blond for this, for renewing his confidence in himself, even if he was responsible in part for knocking it down.

“Do not approach me again,” Harry commanded. “If I want to see you or speak to you, I’ll seek you out.” Draco swallowed thickly and looked up into the face of the man he wanted so desperately and gave him the nod Harry expected. He watched as Harry turned away and gathered his things, making no motion to free the blond. He was almost relieved when Harry fled the room quickly, so swift that he wouldn’t have heard the strangled cry that escaped his lips as Harry’s final rejection hit him square in the heart just a surely as the Cruciatus – powerful enough to torture, but not forgiving enough to put him out of his misery.

Author’s Note: This chapter is for all of you, like me, who needed to see Draco get some of his just-desserts for his behavior earlier in the story. Also, who wants to meet Allen??