Jaded

For Summery, warnings, spoilers and disclaimers see chapter one.


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Chapter Fifteen: It's the end of the world as we know it (but I don't feel very well…)

(Original title by R.E.M., album- Document)

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Harry took another hearty swig of his butterbeer and sighed. Tonight the fizzy drink wasn’t having its fuzzy effect on him, and there was a heavy feeling burdening his heart.

“Are you still harping over the fact that your boyfriend didn’t say he loves you?” Harry turned his head towards Draco’s irritated drawl and sighed again, wishing he never shared the little Christmas escapade with him,

“Just drop it, ok?” He grumbled and turned his head back up to look at the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall. In honour of it being the New Year’s Eve Harry and Draco decided to have a little party of their own, mostly because Harry was a little pissed with Remus and none of Draco’s sparse friends were around. The Great Hall seemed like the ideal choice, it was big and spacious and quite empty now that all the house tables were pushed out of the way.

And that was how the stroke of midnight found them, pleasantly sozzled, lying on the centre table and gazing at the ceiling which was snowing softly.

“I’ll make you a deal. If you leave the heartless bastard I’m going to go all the way with Reg.” Harry turned to his side with a little difficulty and sat up, looking down at Draco,

“It’s a rubbish deal,” He concluded after a bit, “Why would I want to leave Remus?”

“Because he’s using you and you’re too dumb to see him for what he really is- a heartless bastard.” Draco explained while trying to balance his drink and sit up at the same time.

“He’s not heartless.” Harry mumbled,

“Then you’re a fool.” Harry shrugged, it was true, he was a fool, a complete and utter idiot for putting up with Remus’ indifference but he loved the man and he couldn’t help it. Deep down he knew that he’d give Remus anything even if he knew he was never going to get something in return. This was just how he was and he couldn’t help it.

“Well, happy 1978.” He intoned and lifted his bottle in a toast, not really wanting to discus his angst over his relationship.

“I hate 1978,” Draco growled, “I wasn’t even born in 1978! Fifth of June 1980, now there’s a good date…” He mused and Harry rolled his eyes,

“Narcissist little blighter.” He murmured with a smile, at least Draco was still Draco, no matter what the year was. They sank into silence again, drinking the last of their butterbeer before Harry produced the bottle of firewhiskey he finally managed to charm out of Madame Rosmetta’s mother, who was the current owner of ‘The Three Broomsticks’. Since they didn’t have any glasses and they were both far too drunk to conjure proper ones they simply passed the bottle from one to another taking hearty swigs of the amber liquid.

Harry lifted the bottle to his eyes level and looked at it thoughtfully, the light from the candles above broke and sparkled on the glass and through the liquid and more than anything the colour of the firewhiskey reminded him of Remus’ eyes, warm and golden when they looked at Harry.

“I love him, I can’t help it…” He whispered to the bottle before he drank deeply from it. Behind him he could hear a snort,

“You are completely pathetic, you know that?”

“Oh, yeah?” He retorted, “Well, at least I don’t have to resort to dodgy bargains in order to get the man I want in my bed.” Draco turned and huffed,

“That’s not the same!” He cried and Harry gave him a sloppy smile,

“Draco, you’re over thinking it, it’s 1978 for the love of Merlin- no one back home would even know if you bent over for someone or not! Hell, Reg isn’t even going to make it to 1998!” Harry argued, quite proud with his reasoning, and Draco gasped,

“Holly shit, you’re right! Gods, that’s way worse, it’ll be like shagging a corpse!” He cried and Harry giggled, trying to bring his mouth back into working order,

“He’s alive now… Tell you the truth, I wouldn’t mind if some of my lovers were dead… Well, one of them…” He mused sadly, suddenly feeling very sorry for himself,

“I take it we’re not talking about a certain werewolf…” Draco drawled and took another mouthful of the burning liquid and somehow managing to spill quite a bit on the front of his shirt,

“Gods, you’re relentless…” Harry sighed, why do they always have to go back to talking about Remus? This was quite unhealthy!

“I just want what’s best for you.” Draco declared with a generous gesture with the bottle and Harry giggled again, before the words sank into his fogged brain,

“Since when?” Draco gazed at the bottle in his hand, deep in thought,

“Must be a case of butterbeer and half a bottle of firewhiskey ago…” He concluded at last and both boys sniggered at each other, before Draco passed the bottle to Harry. “But seriously, what are you planning to do when we get back home, ask his hand in marriage?” He snorted at the idea. The bottle that was halfway to Harry’s lips stopped mid-air and Harry gave Draco a quizzical look,

“Is it even possible?”

“Of course it is.” Draco huffed, the magical folks have learned long ago what Muggles were still trying to hush even at the closing of the first millennium- you can’t change people so why try.

“Than I guess I do.” Harry said quietly. The thought of marriage never really crossed his mind before, mostly because he knew that Remus would never want to marry a student twenty years his junior but if he was honest with himself, and right now he was being quite honest with himself (it’s quite amazing how much alcohol and veritaserum have in common…), marrying Remus sounded like a splendid idea.

“Pathetic!” Draco declared triumphantly. The word fast becoming his favourite when it came to describing Harry, or maybe it was just the easiest one to think about in his current state, “You’re completely swoony over him… Swoony over Moony…” He giggled softly at his own brilliance and Harry shrugged, “I like it- Swoony over Moony… I could make a button out of it… Yeah…” He mused cheerfully,

“Oh, good gods, no…” Harry moaned pitifully, but Draco grabbed the bottle from him and waved his hand,

“Oh, shush, I’m brilliant with buttons… Remember forth year?”

“I’m doing my best to forget.”

“Yeah, I suppose you are…” Draco said pensively, but not remorsefully, “But you have to admit my buttons were pure genius!” Harry snorted in dismissal,

“Yeah, because ‘Potter Stinks’ is a real brain teaser… it doesn’t even rhyme!” He added after a careful thought.

“You’re just jealous you didn’t come up with it yourself.” Draco jabbed his finger in Harry’s chest to prove his point and Harry slapped his hand away, leaning against Draco for support as his world began to sway dangerously,

“You’re drunk. And an idiot.” He said with conviction and Draco sniggered,

“Oh, but you love me anyway…” He purred and pressed his lips to Harry’s without even thinking what he was doing. Harry, in his intoxicated state didn’t have much more control over his actions than Draco did and he tentatively kissed back. Somewhere in the back of his brain he registered that this wasn’t the boy he wanted to kiss, but he couldn’t stop himself, not when the soft lips parted under the pressure of his tongue and he was given a free reign to explore the firewhiskey-tasting mouth under his.

When they finally had to pull back for air the two boys found themselves laying flat on the table top, limbs tangled together and the bottle of firewhiskey dribbling the last of its contents from the bench below them onto the floor. Harry looked down at the flushed face of the boy under him and blinked several times before the fog in his brain cleared enough to acknowledge the identity of the other boy. He hastily tried to jump to his feet, face flushed and eyes wide but his unstable balance and the fact that the table wasn’t the widest thing in the world resulted in a rather spectacular tumble and crush. Harry groaned in pain and rubbed his aching back with one hand and his aching head with the other.

“Oh, shit.” He muttered and felt the bile rising to his mouth, “Oh, bloody hell!”

“Hmm, I think we should lay off the firewhiskey for a while.” Sounded a rather sheepish voice from above him, and Harry groaned again. Damn, but this was bad!

“I… I have to go…” He decided, but didn’t make much movement to back his statement,

“Where are you going, you can barely stand.” Draco chuckled from the table, lying comfortably on his stomach with his head pillowed by his arms, watching as Harry struggled to get hold of himself and stand up.

“This isn’t funny Draco!” Harry cried and winced at the pain shooting through his skull.

“Don’t get your knickers all in a twist, Potter; it was just a kiss,” Draco drawled and turned to his back, running his hands down his front, “I’m irresistible, it’s understandable…” Harry felt like he was about to retch, his stomach roiling and churning,

“Fuck off, you started it!” He snarled and finally managed to rise to his feet. He wobbled on the spot for a bit before he could focus his eyes on the doors. Unsteadily and supporting himself on the big table he walked to the exit, and after a short struggle with the doorknob he was out of the Great Hall, leaving Draco behind him, still sprawled on the table and smiling benignly.