What It Means

Disclaimer: Me no own, you no sue








Disclaimer: Me no own, you no sue.

 

 

 

A/N: THANK YOU ALL for the reassuring reviews. In
retrospect, I am less bothered by the flame and would have been fine if I had
just slept on it (or not seen it at 3 am
after a few solid hours of drinking at the bar). To tell you the truth I am
almost embarrassed for letting her (or him…) get to me. It surprised even me;
since my usual reaction is a big ‘fuck you’ to things like that. In any case, I
am very grateful for all the love you guys sent my way. You guys keep this
going.

 

Ice Lupus: Thank you so much for both your
review and taking the time to read my story. I apologize if I offended
by my other author’s note – I never meant to imply that you, nor anyone else,
is a communist. You are correct in that communism is a ry, ry, almost utopian
in nature, and that it is often the people who implement said theory that
attach negative connotations to it. It is, however, a common mistake to equate
the theory itself with the heinous results of the manipulation of that theory
by man. The key, however, is that it was a *mistake*. I tend to be a hot headed
person, and the wording that I chose to use was horribly misplaced. I
apologize. I cannot say that I have changed my mind about the policies…as a
self-avowed hedonist I enjoy the ‘freedom of everything’. (That was a joke by
the way). I have, however, thought a great deal about it and can definitely
understand the merit of what you presented to me. Thank you so much for sending
me the review (both of them)…I have a very genuine respect for anyone who can
tell me I’m full of shit and give me *good* reasons for it. Lol…seriously
though….thanks and keep reading.



Speaking of keeping it going…I have a few neuroses. Things
went from smooth to bumpy with all this in a scant 24 hours and it has frazzled
my nerves. I have a proposition for you (as inspired by Rowenna’s
review). You guys have my eternal thanks for all the love you sent my way.
THANK YOU. It was great...now, as long as its okay with you guys, I say lets
get down to business and finish this story, ne? It’s done, and over. Thank you
again for your support.

 

:)

 

Now with all my love, my lovely lovelies….on with chapter
15!

 

Thanks goes, as always, to *my* Jasmine and *my* Liz (that’s
right you silly bitches….yo ass is mine!)

 

BTW…I didn’t intend for this *entire* chapter to be about
being gay…it just turned out that way. And I apologize if any of the French is
incorrect. I have to use an online translator…as I do not speak French, sadly.
This was started at 3 am and finished
at 7am…so I apologize for any mistakes
I didn’t catch.

 

 

 

Chapter 15……………..The consequences of being
me.

**********************************************************

 

It was odd; Ron thought…the far off look on Harry’s face.
He, Harry and Hermione got together rarely now that they all had their own
jobs…their own lives…and Harry had barely said a word to either of them. They
were sitting at small muggle café and while he and Hermione chatted about the
new year being only days away, Harry simply stared down at his plate with
unfocused eyes. Ron had finally had enough and threw a piece of bread at him,
knocking his glasses crooked. Harry squawked and righted them before looking at
his best friend confusedly.

 

“Where are you mate? We’ve been
sitting here talking for almost an hour and you haven’t said a word!”

 

“Sorry” Harll bll but mumbled. “It’s just…my season ended.
I’m still endorsing the brooms, but only part of the time…with it being winter
and all. I just don’t know what I’m going to do with my time…”

 

Ron scoffed and threw another crumb at him. “Poor you! Mr.
One-Of-My-Fantastic-Jobs-Is-Giving-Me-Months-Off-To-Do-Whatever-I-Want-With-My-Piles-Of-Money!”

 

Harry laughed at the look on Ron’s face – the former
Gryffindor was renowned for his expressions. “Sorry Ron…I didn’t think of it
that way. But you’re right…and that’s part of the problem. You and Mione are
going to be busy…and I’ll have no one to talk to…”

 

“Why don’t you travel, Harry?” Hermione interjected.

 

Harry brightened a bit. “Hmm. I
never thought of that. Ireland
was wonderful…except for that whole brawl thing…”

 

“You could go anywhere you want to. You have the money…and
the time. I would think it would be a shame *not* to travel.”

 

“I know…” Harry started “…it’s just that I’d hate to go
alone. You guys can’t come with me…and Draco certainly can’t leave right now.
Not that traveling with him would be a good idea in any case…”

 

Ron burst into a grin and resisted the urge to throw more
food at Harry. “Bloody hell….you’re *Harry Potter* I’m sure you’ll find good
company wherever you go, mate.”

 

Harry smiled warmly at his two very best friends. The oddly
matched couple had seen him through everything for almost eight years. “Not
this good.”

 

**********************************************************

 

Draco and Michael had been arguing for over an hour and
neither of them were willing to budge.

 

“Just let me go, Draco. I’ve done this a million times; it
will be quick and easy.”

 

“No. This is *my* company and I want to do it. It’s a
challenge.”

 

Michael sighed in frustration and gripped his hair. “But it
doesn’t *have* to be a challenge…that’s what I’m bloody telling you! If you’d
just let me handle it we’d be celebrating the closing by now.”

 

“SoCameCameron.” The stubborn blonde spat out. “And what
makes you think you’d be any better than I would?”

 

Michael flashed a smile. “I’m a whiz with the ladies…that’s
why.”

 

Draco looked gob smacked. “My arse!
I was under the impression that you actually had no interest in the ‘ladies’…or
did I *imagine* your hand on my bum a while back?”

 

“Listen, Malfoy. I don’t have to like women to make them
think I do. Charm is charm…it just comes naturally.”

 

“Oh thank you very much. Are you implying that I have no
charm? I’m Draco *Malfoy*, if you look up ‘charm’ in the dictionary you’ll see
my sodding picture. And watch it before I make you call me *Mr. Malfoy*.

 

“Oh I beg your pardon *Mr.* knight in shining armor. You
have charm oozing out of your pores. It’s just (mumble mumble)
charm.”

 

“What was that?”

 

“……..”

 

Draco held up his hand. His thumb and index finger had about
an inch of space between them. “This close Michael.
You are *this* close. You’ve managed to confuse me, paint me *without* my
permission, molest me, and now you’re saying I have (mumble mumble)
charm. Out. With. It.”

 

Michael fidgeted before throwing his hands up. “Fine. GAY charm, okay….you have *gay* charm.”

 

Draco stopped cold. His eyebrow began to twitch and he
snarled like a threatened wolf. “Ex-cuse-me?”

 

“Look…” Michael began explaining hurriedly before he losts jos job…or an eye. “…just listen to me. I’ve been doing this for a long time.
There are different ‘types’ of gay men. You are in *no* way a fng
ng
homosexual. It’s just…you have the ‘perfect man’ syndrome. You’re good looking,
rich, young, single, articulate and well dressed…you *have* to be gay. Women
can smell it...like fear. Trust me. It’s taken me years to turn it off…”

 

The younger of the two calmed, albeit slightly, and his
eyebrow ceased it’s twitching. “I hate you.”

 

“What? Why?”

 

“Because I don’t know whether to thank you
or fire you. I can’t tell if that was a compliment. Damn you!”

 

Michael sighed. “Don’t do either…just let *me* go, okay?”

 

“No.”

 

“Damnit Draco, I-”

 

“No.”

 

“If you’d just-”

 

“No. I’d like to test this ‘perfect man’ theory of yours.
Besides…as I said, this is my company and I’o who what I see fit. I’m going.”

 

“At least let me go with you.”

 

“Fine. And I’ll have you know that
no one knew I was gay until less than a year ago!”

 

Michael smirked and quirked a brow.
“I did.”

 

“Oh shut up.”

 

******************************************************

 

Everything was set. On New Years Day, Harry would leave for
an indefinite stay in Ireland.
He looked forward to the trip greatly, as it would give him a much needed break
from all the recent stress. Still, he couldn’t help but feel lonely – and in
truth he knew he would be lonely even in a room full of people…unless one of
them had platinum blonde hair.

 

He scoffed and dropped his pamphlets onto his desk. This was
exactly why he needed a vacation. He was about to owl Ron and Hermione to give
them the news when he received an owl himself. He recognized the bird as the
one belonging to Mr. Bramble – owner of Harry’s quidditch team and Firebolt
brooms. He took the parchment from her and smoothed her feathers before
breaking the seal and reading the message.

 

Mr. Potter,

 

I would like to ask
that you, at your convenience, stop by my office before the close of tomorrow’s
business day. I have some endorsements I would like to discuss with you before
the holiday.

 

A. Bramble.

 

It was only early afternoon, and Harry had no other plans
for the day; so he decided he might as well floo over to see the tycoon right
then. He couldn’t help but wonder what the man wanted so close to the New Year.
Unable to figure it out, he decided that the quickest way to quell his
curiosity was to simply put on a nice robe and head over to ask him. After a
quick fifteen minutes of preparation, Harry was ready to speak to his employer,
and grabbing a handful of floo powder, he disappeared in a flash of green
light.

 

When he came tumbling out the
massive marble fireplace, Harry cursed silently. He briefly noted to remember
to fund research for a less jarring but equally effective method of wizard
travel. He was immediately met by Mr. Bramble’s secretary. A petite and bright
eyed young woman, Harry supposed she was attractive…for a woman. He couldn’t
help but be annoyed, however, when she giggled, as she always did,
re
realizing she was face to face with Harry Potter. Nonetheless, he smiled
brightly at her and pretended he did not see the blush tint her cheeks.

 

“Mr. Bramble wasn’t expecting you so soon. Let me tell him
you’re here.”

 

Harry nodded and she disappeared for a moment. He used the
time in which she was gone to look around him. The interior of the room was not
what one would expect for a business man. The building itself was ancient, but
well kept and the décor was almost…sentimental. Pictures adorned the walls,
along with several works of art done by the orphans in a home Mr. Bramble
funded through charity. Harry himself was scheduled to visit those children in
roughly four months time. The maudlin decorations seemed almost out of place
surrounding the expensive furniture and fine rugs. Harry didn’t have too much
time to consider his observations because a short moment later, the secretary
returned and with a girlish smile she directed him into the office of their
mutual employer.

 

“Would you like some coffee, Mr. Potter?” she asked in a
sing song voice.

 

Harry nodded. “Yes please. Two sugars – black. Thank you.”

 

After she left, Harry turned his attention to the round
older man sitting behind his desk. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

 

“Yes…I’ve started an aggressive new campaign using your
image and I wanted to brief you on it.”

 

Harry was a bit surprised that apparently what ever it was
his boss had in mind he had already implemented and merely wanted to inform
Harry of the changes. He nodded at him to continue and the older man smiled.

 

“I’ve been studying your fan base – from when you were
merely ‘The Boy Who Lived’, and then when you were ‘The Boy Who Killed
Voldemort And Lived’, and finally when you were, and
pardon my frankness, ‘The Gay Boy Who Killed Voldemort And Lived.’

 

Harry wasn’t sure he liked where this was going. He had
countered homophobia before, but Mr. Bramble knew aboul ofl of this before he
hired him to either of his positions. If the older man had any problem with
him, common sense told Harry he would have mentioned it earlier.

 

“No offense, sir…but I don’t see where you’re going with
this.”

 

“Well, my boy, it turns out that you can do no wrong. Every
outrageous action you take fuels the public’s respect for you. When you…came
out…wizards all over the world suddenly knew that it was ofor for them, if it
was okay for Harry Potter.”

 

“Okay…”

 

“Mr. Potter…you are a gold mine – and your current lifestyle
opens up all kinds of possibilities. I need you to use it. I need you to be
public about it.”

 

“Excuse me? *Straight* people don’t ‘use it’…why should I
have to?”

 

“Mr. Potter…if your preference happened to be hippogriffs, I
would tell you to use it. This has nothing to do with you being gay…it has to
do with you being Harry Potter.”

 

“No. I don’t see how it’s anyone’s business, or how it could
be considered lucrative at all.”

 

The other man’s voice heldmalimalice, yet it was stern and
laced with a hard earned confidence. “I have been a business man for many many years. Your job is to catch the snitch, smile for the
camera and save the world occasionally. Leave the accounting to me.”

 

Harry gaped. “So let
me get this straight… no pun intended of course. You want to exploit me, and
all the countless people who actually *believe* in me for the sake of profit
while I just smile pretty and let you?”

 

“I wouldn’t word it exactly like that Mr. Potter…”

 

“So I’m paraphrasing a bit…but essentially that’s what you
want to do, right?”

 

Mr. Bramble rubbed his chin for a moment before nodding
reluctantly.

 

“No!”

 

The older man sat back and steepled
his fingers. “Mr. Potter, you are undontrontract to do what I tell you to. I
would hope you’d think this over before making any rash decisions.”

 

Harry jumped up and lunged forward, leaning across the desk
and knocking over various ornaments. “This…” he lifted the curtain of his hair
to reveal his scar. “…is my contract. It’s binding, and that means *I* set the
rules. I will not allow you to exploit one of the hardest decisions of a
person’s life. Now, I suggest *you* think this over before I show you what
Firebolt brooms are *really* good for.”

 

He had straightened and was turning to leave when the
secretary came fluttering in, carrying his coffee. She giggled again and held
the cup out for him. “Your coffee Mr. Potter.”

 

“SOD YOUR COFFEE!” he yelled as he stormed out and slammed
the door behind him.

 

After the pictures on the wall stopped shaking from the
force of Harry’s exit, Mr. Bramble gave his young secretary the rest of the day
off. The poor girl’s nerves were shot…after all…Harry Potter yelled at her for
no apparent reason.

 

When he was finally alone in his office, the wizard tycoon
sat back in his seat with a genuine smile. Although a business man by trade, he
had always been an honest man at heart, and had respect for true integrity. It
was, after all, rare.

 

“Good boy…you’ll do the most amazing things in life…”

 

******************************************************

 

Draco and Michael arrived at the restaurant to mees. Es. Emma
Huntington.

 

“Refresh my memory on this woman.” Draco commanded.

 

“She’s in her mid-thirties and her husband owns several
muggle corporations. Being a squib, she likes playing with her husband’s money
and starting several generally useless wizard charities and organizations. As
inadequate as most of her endeavors are, a few actually hold quite a bit of
merit and she seems to have grown bored with them. Looking for someone to take
them over, she’s meeting with several interested parties.”

 

“This is where we come in.” Draco half-stated, half-asked
while looking down one last time to insure he looked immaculate.

 

“Correct. Money is no object, and she seems to be basing her
decision on who can amuse her the most. So now would be the time to turn up
that charm you were bragging about.”

 

“Right.”

 

As they approached the table, Draco found his lips forming
the smile that had always gotten him anything, or anyone, he wanted. His blonde
hair fell perfectly over his face, partially covering one eye and he wore a
form fitting black sweater with black slacks tailored to accentuate his…assets.

 

Mrs. Huntington looked up from her martini glass and smiled
at them, her brown hair held in a tight bun high on her head. She was not what
one would call gorgeous, or even pretty, but she looked classy and polished.
Her neck and wrists were adorned with precious jewels, although not gaudily.
When the two men arrived, she extended her hand and Draco took it gingerly in his own before kissing it and smiling. At his
flirtatious actions she quirked an eyebrow and her lips formed a small smile.

 

When the waiter finally arrived to take their order, Draco,
noting that they were in a French restaurant, ordered in the appropriate
tongue. Hearing this, the socialite smiled brightly at him.

 

“Parlez-vous Français, Malfoy de Monsieur?”

(do
you speak French, Mr. Malfoy?)

 

“Bien sûr, ma dame.”

(Of
course, my lady.)

 

She smiled again and nodded her head slightly. “Nice, Mr.
Malfoy…very nice.”

 

Everything had gone wonderfully. Draco’s wit and Michael’s
worldliness had thoroughly entranced the aristocratic woman. All three of them
werst bst beginning to loosen up, having ordered after dinner drinks, when she
decided to change the subject.

 

“I don’t hear too much news about your world, as I am a busy
woman, but something *did* pique my interest earlier this morning. Did you know
that Harry Potter is endorsing Firebolt brooms?”

 

Draco almost spit his drink out at the mention of his former
lover, but managed to swallow gracefully. Michael immediately took the reigns.
“We’ve heard something like that, yes.”

 

“I would really think Mr. Bramble would have better sense
than to hire a gay to be his spokesperson. Really…what kind of example does
that set for the children who see his sinful face on all those posters?”

 

Michael instantly took charge, sending Draco a look that
said ‘down boy’ and smiled at their now unwelcome companion. “I try not to
bother myself with the business of others.”

 

She scoffed. “Well you should start, Mr. Cameron. It is the
responsibility of everyone in a community to keep it morally sound. What about
you, Mr. Malfoy, how do you feel about this?”

 

Draco was caught off guard by her question and was unsure
how to answer her. Thinking on his toes he decided to take Michael’s route and
be vague, although he was genuinely horrified by the woman’s attitude towards
his lifestyle. “I, myself, have been a very busy man as of late, Mrs.
Huntington. I’m afraid I haven’t had the time to consider it.”

 

“Well I have and I think it’s horrid.” She glanced down at
her watch and her voice regained its cheerfulness. “Look at the time. I have a
grooming in an hour, so I really must be on my way.”

 

Casting an apathetic look at Michael and a much warmer smile
at Draco she began to gather her coat and purse. “Mr. Malfoy, my husband and I are
hosting a fabulous party tomorrow night for the New Year. I would absolutelyve fve for you to attend so that we can discuss our mutual inter fur further.”

 

Draco nodded on instinct, anxious for her to leave. Before
she took her exit, though, she turned and called over her shoulder.

 

“Ah yes…and be sure to bring your girlfriend! I would love
to see what kind of woman can tame a dragon.”

 

After she had disappeared completely Draco dropped his head
to the table with a groan. “If only she knew…”

 

Michael chuckled softly. “What are you going to do?”

 

“I don’t knout Iut I am certain about one thing.”

 

“Oh? And what might that be?”

 

“I think I might be *too* charming for my own bloody good…”

 

****************************************************************

TBC

 

 

Thanks again you guys. I hope you liked this one. It’s
nowhere near as heavy as the last few. It was kind of hard to get out of that
flow though…I think I write best when I’m crushing someone’s soul. Call it a
gift…

 

Anyways…like I said (and can’t say
enough), thanks.

 

 

Love and Kisses,

 

 

Reika