Expensive Disaster

Authors Note: Thanks go out to my beta, Shannon, who I love chatting with and hope she sticks with me for awhile! I hope you all enjoy this chapter because I really LOVED writing it. I think it's one of my favorites in some time!

Chapter 14

Draco sulked around the school, the whole world fading around him in a blur. He never really had any friends of his own, only people who wanted to stand next to him at the top. Now those people were looking down on him as he wallowed in the sewers of self-pity. His only friends of late were really Harry’s, which was evident by the group, which constantly surrounded him and kept Draco at bay.

Even the private fencing lessons were no longer private, and at least one of Harry’s friends always accompanied him so as to never leave him alone with Draco. He stopped begging Harry to speak with him after the brutal display in the cafeteria his first day back, and that had been weeks ago.

Christmas was soon approaching and Harry hadn’t even mumbled a word in his direction. All Draco did was dream about Harry; even his nightmares were a twist on what happened between them so that Harry’s face was always the most prominent thing in his mind. The starring role in his world was undoubtedly played by Harry Potter, and with that person missing; the movie of Draco’s life was just filled with meaningless extras and sad background music.

Theo was the only constant presence by his side, always trying to get Draco’s attention, but never receiving it. Though occasionally he would notice the boy’s eyes drifting up to Tristan’s, only to return when the boy never looked his way.

Tristan was like a sentient watchdog, keeping Draco out of a ten-meter radius surrounding Harry. He leered at Harry in ways that made Draco want to reach across the room and strangle him, but that was the only way Draco’s luck had held.

Harry didn’t seem terribly interested in Tristan.

Sure they held hands walking from class to class, he would even let Tristan kiss him from time to time, but Draco could tell that there was nothing on Harry’s end. Draco knew the look Harry got in his eyes when he was interested, he knew the facial expressions the boy made when enjoying a kiss and Draco would never forget a thing about his Harry, nor would he ever let himself be tricked again.

In hindsight, Theo looked nothing like Harry at all and he was ashamed to have even confused the two. He had the same windswept hair, the small height and build, even similar bone structure, but Harry had a sparkle to his eyes that couldn’t be matched, and he had a crooked grin that only Draco had ever had the honor to receive, and he smelled like clove and honey, all things that could be replicated, but never duplicated.

So how had he been tricked?

The question circled Draco’s mind a thousand times a day, never relenting. One theory was that Theo was good at impersonating Harry, which was certainly true, as he had obviously been practicing the mirror image he had created that fateful night.

But Draco should have known better, and he berated himself everyday for being so eager, and for letting his guard down. Not that he should have suspected such an elaborate plot to ruin his relationship with his one true love, but he certainly should have been able to tell the difference.

For instance, Theo’s contacts had been green, but thinking back, they weren’t the sheer emerald brilliance of Harry’s. Also, Theo smelled like Harry did, only the clove that Theo smelled of was like a clove cigarette, and not the cloves of Christmas.

Because the closer and closer Draco got to the holiday, the more he realized that truly, Harry smelled like Christmas morning.

It was stupid he knew, to pine after a boy who had verbally castrated him in front of the entire school and then proceeded to deftly ignore him for more than a month after. But Draco had tasted the sweet nectar of a perfect life with Harry, and like the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden, that one taste was his downfall.

He was unable to look upon another, unable to even enjoy the simple things like meals and sleep and even just moving about the school without being reminded that he used to do all those things with Harry, and with the lovely raven haired boy by his side, all those mundane activities were better, sweeter.

It hardly mattered though, because no amount of pining would ever bring him back. He wondered though, what would happen when they finished out the last months of school? Would Draco get a chance to talk to him before he left, never to see each other again? Or would he just fly away, like a lost dream on the wind, forever haunting Draco’s sleep with what might have been?

He resolved then not to let it get to that. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Harry, and if his friends managed to leave him alone for even a minute, Draco would use that time to persuade Harry to listen to his pleas.

--

Harry listened to progressively sadder and sadder music each day to the point where soon, he’d just be listening to the funeral march on his iPod as he walked to class each day.

It would only be appropriate.

He found listening to Tristan prattle on about schoolyard gossip to be tedious at best, and often he simply ignored him. He was sweet and caring and protective, but he just wasn’t Draco.

He was trying to find new and creative ways to stave Tristan off, especially when it came to sex. Harry didn’t want to sleep with Tristan, but the time was approaching when Harry would either have to give in or break up with him, and he still wasn’t entirely sure what would happen when that moment came.

Most likely he’d just give in. He’d rather not only have the one time to speak of when he graduated and went to University. He’d rather be experienced enough to hold his own. Still, for some reason, despite all the kind things Tristan had done since the incident, Harry found the idea of having sex with him repulsive.

The incident.

That’s what all his friends called it so as to not trigger an outburst of anger or tears, depending on how he was feeling that day. Griffin and Neville were the best, mostly avoiding the topic altogether and never, ever uttering the ‘D’ word in his presence.

The private fencing lessons were the worst, but not for the reasons Harry expected. Griffin usually accompanied him and occasionally Tristan would come too, though not very often. Harry expected proclamations of apology from Draco when he entered the class, bracing himself to lash out the same as he had the first time, but what happened instead was almost worse.

Nothing.

The once brilliant silver light of Draco’s eyes was dull and red and his will was broken. He never spoke a word during any of their classes, not even to encourage or discourage Harry’s progress. He just bowed to indicate that he would begin and they would fight, foils clashing together in fury and betrayal, self-loathing and apology.

It was strange to think that suddenly he was looking forward to these private lessons in a way he never had before. Originally they were a pain, having to be in Draco’s presence as he persistently pursued Harry time after time, but then the night of their first kiss, the night they began dating, it had changed to an interruption in their normal free time, the time they usually allotted for snogging or talking about more important things than studies.

Now Harry looked forward to these lessons because it was the only chance to know that Draco was real, and that what they had together had really happened. It was also the only interaction he allowed himself to have with the blonde, the only place safe enough, especially with his friends there, where he knew he wouldn’t give in.

--

“What?” Harry shouted, feeling a sense of dread fall over him. “What do you mean Griffin’s sick?”

“He just wanted me to tell you that tonight, you’d have to go it alone,” Neville said, coughing into his hand. A nasty cold had swept through Veritas and Harry was lucky to have avoided it, so he grimaced and took a step back.

“Sorry,” Neville said quickly. “Do you want me to send Colin? I think he’s feeling a bit better.”

Harry thought about it for a moment and almost agreed. Colin had been less clingy since the incident but he was the first of Harry’s friends to get sick and so he probably still needed rest. “I’ll be okay. What’s the worst that can happen right?” he replied, more for his own benefit than for Neville’s.

“Right. I mean, he hasn’t said a word to you in months. I’m sure he knows better than to start anything with you by now,” Neville offered, cut off abruptly by a violent sneeze.

“Get to bed Nev, and don’t worry about me,” he replied, shoving Neville in the direction of his room.

Harry made a quick detour to Tristan’s room, knowing he could enlist the blonde to accompany him, but no one answered the door. So he turned to make the long trek over to the training room.

It felt like a death march, and again Harry wondered if he should just go ahead and download Chopin into his iPod. He stood outside the door for far longer than necessary, just to try and steel himself for the upcoming confrontation. It was the first time he would be alone with Draco in over a month and his nerves were on edge and all his senses on high alert.

Slowly he pushed open the door and scanned the room for Draco’s presence. He wasn’t there yet, so Harry hurried to the changing room and slipped into his uniform. When he returned to the main area, Draco was waiting for him; dressed in his black uniform to counter Harry’s white. Draco had been promoted to master level for his tutoring of Harry, which only served to enrage Harry further. He hated the idea of something good happening to Draco because of him.

There they stood, black against white, light against dark, good versus evil.

Draco looked around the room, his face forming into a confused frown. “Where’s your entourage?” he asked.

“Sick,” Harry replied, not willing to talk to Draco any more than he had too.

“All of them?” Draco asked, his face still forming a heavy frown.

“Why do you care?” Harry snapped.

“You always have a bodyguard when you come here,” Draco mused, seemingly pleased to see Harry alone.

“They’re not my bodyguard. They happen to be real friends who care about me,” Harry shot back, putting careful emphasis on his words.

“I care about you,” Draco whispered, barely heard across the echoing distance of the room.

“Clearly,” Harry scoffed, his voice thick with sarcasm. “Let’s just get this over with shall we?”

“Tristan didn’t look sick today,” Draco noted, ignoring Harry’s request to begin.

“He’s not, I couldn’t find him. But still, none of this is your business anymore,” Harry bit out.

“I want it to be,” Draco replied lightly.

The pain was too much, the sound of Draco’s voice, long denied him, was gaining power and awe within Harry’s mind and it sent him into a fury. He lunged at Draco swiftly slicing through the air with his foil and cutting a hunk out of Draco’s uniform, exposing his pale flesh through a slit along his side. “You probably should have thought of that before you fucked Theo,” Harry replied sharply, smiling at his ability to catch Draco so thoroughly off guard.

Draco looked down incredulously at his torn uniform and then his eyes flicked back up to Harry’s once more and several things burned there. Anger, fear, loathing, want and guilt all coated his silvery eyes, bit it was desire that drove his blade. He launched himself like a blur, crashing his foil into Harry’s, who had anticipated it enough to counter Draco’s strike. “I was tricked,” Draco shouted between the sounds of clashing metal.

“Tricked? Is that the brilliant excuse you’ve spent the last five weeks plotting up? Come on, Malfoy, you can be more creative than that!” Harry shouted back.

A slow smile curved on Draco’s lips as Harry recounted exactly how long they had been apart. He had inadvertently given the blonde something, some clue to know that Harry noticed the loss and knew exactly how long ago they had broken up. “I don’t need to be creative when malicious people like Tristan and Theo have it in for me,” Draco replied, his blade glancing off of Harry’s for the hundredth time.

“You leave Tristan out of this. He’s been nothing but a gentleman since you cheated on me,” Harry spat and took a step back from Draco’s fiery onslaught.

“Really? A gentleman doesn’t usually brag about his conquests,” Draco replied angrily, forcing Harry back several more steps.

“What are you talking about?” Harry asked, a flicker of doubt in his cold green eyes. He faltered and Draco’s blade pressed against his sternum, the only thing between them, as Draco pinned Harry against the wall with the foil.

“He told me how you ran to him, how he fucked you and made you his again,” Draco growled, unshed tears welling in his eyes.

“You lie,” Harry snarled, trying not to wince against the pain growing in his chest, both from the blade pressed to it and his heart breaking all over again because of their close proximity.

“I have no reason to lie to you, Harry. I have nothing more to lose,” Draco whispered, pulling the blade from Harry’s chest and stepping back, holding his foil up in challenge again.

Harry stepped carefully away from the wall and bit into his bottom lip. “I haven’t slept with him,” he said, not even sure why he was giving Draco this bit of personal information until his smoldering gray eyes lit up, making it suddenly worth it.

“Really?” Draco asked, his head tilting to the side in confusion.

“It doesn’t matter. Just because I don’t want him doesn’t mean I still want you,” Harry growled.

“I still want you, I never stopped,” Draco replied, hurling his blade down to slice into Harry’s counter measure. The blade sparked with the violent effort and Draco smiled. “I love you, Harry.”

Harry screamed an unintelligible howl as he launched himself once again onto Draco, slicing and slashing with precision and fury. Draco managed to counter every blow and Harry was panting in the end, and near collapse. Draco lashed out one last time, and swept his foot out at the same moment, taking Harry down to the mat and pinning him there with his blade at Harry’s throat.

He gasped for breath waiting for Draco to move, but instead the boy fell on him, placing knees on either side of his sharp hips. He tossed his own blade and stole Harry’s as well, throwing it in the same direction. Harry could feel his heart beat faster and Draco leaned in and placed a delicate kiss on his brow. “I’m not giving you up without a fight.”

“You’ll never win, “Harry whispered, not sure who he was trying to convince with his words. If it hadn’t been for the constant vigilance of his friends he probably would have gone right back to Draco and let the boy continue to hurt and betray him over and over again.

“Ah, but I think I will,” he replied, his words ghosting over Harry’s face.

“Why is that?” Harry asked, suddenly breathless.

“Because I want to be with you more than you want to be away from me,” he reasoned with a sharp grin. Harry knew he was right and that knowledge made him hate Draco that much more.

“I think your boyfriend would take issue with this conversation,” Harry tried.

“Are you speaking of yourself?” Draco asked, genuinely curious. “Because you’re the only boyfriend I acknowledge.”

“Theo,” Harry growled, tired of this manipulative game.

Draco frowned. “I’m not dating Theo.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Do you think I’m blind? You two have been inseparable since I caught you fucking him,” he shouted in Draco’s face.

“Have you ever seen me talk to him?” Draco asked, wincing away slightly at Harry’s words.

Harry thought about it for a while, going back through every moment he remembered seeing them together. “No,” he admitted grudgingly.

“That’s because he’s stalking me, not dating me,” Draco reasoned, leaning closer. “I’m going to kiss you, Harry.”

“No,” he replied with a panic, turning his head to the side.

“Okay,” Draco whispered, and Harry was relieved that Draco wasn’t going to push him. “Can I ask you a favor then?”

Harry laughed harshly and didn’t reply.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Draco said brightly and Harry huffed again. “Be careful of Tristan.”

Harry turned back to look up into Draco’s smoldering mercury eyes. “What?” he asked, completely taken aback by the request.

“He’s bad news, Harry. I can’t prove anything yet, but I know he had a hand in all this. I thought it was you the whole time, I promise. I knew things were off, but I just thought it was my nerves. I love you Harry, and I would never purposefully to anything to hurt you,” Draco pleaded.

Harry turned away again, masking the fresh tears blooming under his eyelids. Draco gently turned his face back to his own. “Look at me, you know this, deep down you have to know this. I. Love. You.” Draco whispered.

Harry shook his head. “That’s the funny thing about catching you fucking another man, Malfoy. It easily allows me to not believe a word you say.”

“Then just promise me,” Draco demanded. “Promise me you’ll be careful… and don’t sleep with him,” he added with a pout that Harry found far too adorable.

“I’m not promising you anything,” Harry said bitterly.

“Fine, but I warned you. I love you, Harry, and I don’t want you to get hurt,” Draco whispered, smoothing the raven locks from Harry’s forehead.

“Well, you don’t have to worry,” Harry replied. “You already hurt me so badly that I’m numb to everything else.”

Draco hissed a violent intake of breath and winced against Harry’s words. “I know, and if I could take it back I would. I wish I had been clever enough to see their plan, but I missed it until it was too late.”

“Would you stop talking about conspiracy theories and get off of me,” Harry groaned.

Draco got up, pulling Harry with him and frowned. He still gripped Harry’s hand and he pulled him close, whispering in his ear. “I’m more sorry than you could ever know. I’m nothing without you, Harry.”

Harry melted into him, and shivered as Draco’s lips trailed along his earlobe. “Stop,” Harry whispered, not sure he really wanted that at all.

“When I can prove it, I’ll come to you, Harry. I’m going to get you back if it’s the last thing I do,” Draco whispered, pressing a kiss onto Harry’s hand and letting it drop.

Harry shook the feeling off and tried to ignore the tingling left by Draco’s kiss and ran. He ran from the training area and down the corridor, he kept running until he reached his dorm, then he slammed and locked the door behind him.

He collapsed onto his bed and willed his heart to slow, ignoring the knock when Tristan came to his door later that evening and wondering for the first time in weeks if there was any truth to Draco’s words.

Authors Note: okay, so I hope you all had fun with your voodoo dolls last week. this week you'll get fire and hot pokers to add to the kit...