Expensive Disaster

Authors Note: Many thanks to my newest beta Robert (Ragnarok45) who not only helped with the beta, but also assisted in some of the ideas involved in this chapter and the next few

Chapter 17 The Harder They Fall

Harry had tried calling Sirius that morning but no one had answered at the house. A deep sense of dread had been settling into his bones since the moment he agreed to have sex with Tristan, and he was starting to wonder if he should just break up with the blonde instead. He knew it had to be one or the other: it wasn’t fair to make Tristan wait indefinitely for him when he might not ever be ready.

The image of Draco with another boy was seared into his mind like a picture drawn with indelible marker. Every time he closed his eyes it was there, branded into his retina. In his heart of hearts he still loved the cheating blonde bastard, but he was terrified of the pain he felt when Draco had betrayed him and doubted he could ever forgive him.

Harry rummaged into his nightstand, pulling out the picture of the two of them. They were much younger then, Harry’s parents had been alive and all had been right with the world. He heaved the frame across the room in a furious rage, relishing in the shattering sound of breaking glass as it ricocheted into the wall.

Turning the music – which was already blaring – up a little more, he walked over to where the frame landed and carefully picked it up. The photo was unharmed, but the frame was in very separate pieces and broken glass was everywhere.

He turned the photograph over and saw something he had never known existed.

On the other side of it was a note from Draco, in his very delicate scrolling handwriting.

You mean everything to me; I can’t breathe without you.

Yours Forever,

Draco

Harry choked back a sob. Maybe, had he seen this before, he would have contacted Draco instead of letting his parents cart him away to public school. As it was he had nothing to go by other than speculation at the time.

But even now Draco confessed that he loved him still, wanted him, and still thought of him all the time. Harry had held a grudge for over three years and it gained him nothing; should he continue it now?

He hated doubting himself as he picked up a shard of glass and examined its multifaceted edge. Holding it up to the light he could see all the colors of the rainbow reflected against his eye.

He ran it lightly across his wrist, not even hard enough to break the skin, then threw it down with the rest and shook his head. “I will not let him affect me so completely.”

Harry took a deep breath and left his room, heading toward the Gymnasium for his private fencing lessons, and leaving the mess of shattered memories behind him.

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Draco paced the large white training room, searching for some sign that he was doing the right thing. He didn’t want Harry to have to witness Tristan cheating on him, but if Harry wouldn’t listen to him, he didn’t know what else he could do.

He had arrived early in order to work up the nerve to confront Harry, so he was surprised when he heard the doors creak open, indicating a visitor. When he looked up he saw the least likely sight he could have been expecting.

Heading toward him was Griffin, which was not terribly unusual, but flanking each side were Harry’s friends from private school, Ron and Hermione. Draco hadn’t had the chance to meet them other than seeing both from a distance the day they brought Tristan into the school, thus ruining everything in the worst way.

In fact, if he thought about it, he would have been livid to see them here again after all the trouble they had caused on their first visit, but he was just too surprised to see them at all to be too angry.

“Sirius told us what you’re planning,” Hermione informed him, her mouth set in a tight line and her arms crossed over her chest.

“And I suppose you’re here to stop me?” Draco asked, ready to sneer at them given a moment’s notice.

“Actually, we’re here to help,” Ron corrected.

“We thought you’d have a better chance of getting Harry to listen if we were all here,” Griffin offered.

Draco nearly collapsed to his knees, he was so overwhelmed by the gesture Harry’s friends were extending. He knew it wasn’t for him, but it didn’t matter, Draco’s main purpose tonight was to get Harry away from Tristan: the rest could come later.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I’m so happy to have the help.”

“You really love him don’t you?” Hermione asked, her face betraying nothing.

He nodded resolutely and looked into her chocolate brown eyes. “Even if Harry never takes me back, I need to know that wanker Tristan isn’t using him.”

A sudden smile blossomed on Hermione’s face and she nodded. “So when will he be here?”

“A quarter hour or so,” he replied, looking down at his watch.

“What the hell is going on here?” A voice asked from the doorway, and Draco looked up to see Harry standing with his hands on his hips and glaring at his traitorous friends.

“Or perhaps a little sooner then that,” Ron muttered at Harry’s early entrance.

“We’re all here for moral support,” Griffin told him, holding his hand up in the air in defense.

“Why would I need moral support?” Harry asked warily, not coming any further into the room.

“Because Draco has some bad news,” Hermione replied.

“Thanks,” Draco muttered under his breath. “Harry, there is something I need to tell you about Tristan,” he began.

“Whatever it is you can save it. I’m breaking up with him after practice tonight,” Harry told them all.

“Just listen to us, Harry. Tristan’s a bad- what?” Ron stumbled, assuming Harry’s words had been an argument and only realizing too late what the boy had said.

“Really?” Draco asked, more than just a little relieved. “Did you talk to Sirius?”

Harry looked confused but just shook his head. “No, I’m perfectly capable of making decisions on my own,” he huffed. “Why would I need to talk to Sirius?”

“Oh, no reason,” Draco lied, wanting to keep the nasty truth about his boyfriend’s extracurricular activities from hurting Harry further. There was no real need now that he was already breaking up with him.

Leveling his piecing green gaze on Draco, Harry narrowed his eyes. “Tell me,” he demanded.

Draco took a deep breath and started to speak, but was promptly cut off by Hermione. “He’s been cheating on you, Harry. We all came over to help Draco tell you and to make sure you were okay.”

“He’s been what? With who?” Harry stuttered, looking slightly shaken.

“Theo,” Draco whispered.

“But, that’s impossible. Tristan doesn’t talk to Theo,” Harry countered.

“Not that you knew of, but almost every night and during all of our private lessons he sneaks over to Theo’s dorm,” Draco informed him reluctantly.

“For how long?” Harry asked.

“Since he transferred into Veritas. He’s never stopped,” Draco answered.

“How do you know all this?” Harry asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Draco couldn’t meet his eyes any longer and let them drop to his own feet. “Theo broke it off and told me about it. He was going to make Tristan come see him tonight so we could show you first hand if you didn’t take my word for it,” Draco said, feeling a twinge of guilt for what Theo was probably going through.

“So you mean to tell me he’s probably fucking Theo right now?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Probably,” Ron and Griffin both offered in unison, sounding disgusted.

Harry looked at each of his friends in turn and then with a snarl, whirled around and stormed out. They all followed him, wanting to calm him down, but suddenly Draco realized that Harry wasn’t running away, but rather heading for Theo’s room.

They all stood outside of Theo’s door for a moment, watching Harry take a deep breath and stare at it before grabbing the handle and pushing it open.

True to Theo’s word, he had managed to coax Tristan back to his room, where Theo was tied to the bed, blindfolded and writhing under Tristan’s rough pounding. Neither seemed to register the group standing in the doorway at first, but Draco thought he saw Theo smirk slightly.

After a moment of wide-eyed gaping Harry began clapping wildly. “And the Oscar goes to Tristan, for best performance in the fake boyfriend category!”

Tristan turned at the noise, his jaw dropping at the audience he had for his little performance with Theo. “Harry, I-“ he began, but Harry cut him off by striding across the room and delivering the boy a violent punch to the jaw.

“How could you?” he shouted, wheeling back for another blow.

Ron caught Harry’s arm and eased him away from Tristan. “It’s not worth it,” Hermione muttered to Harry, before Draco slammed his own fist into Tristan’s jaw.

“Oh, it’s worth it,” Draco told them and motioned for Ron to release Harry.

Tristan had fallen off the bed, still naked and now bleeding from the corner of his mouth from Harry’s initial punch. Ron let Harry go, but Harry made no move to injure the worthless lump further. “I trusted you,” he rasped, anger and loathing causing his words to choke him.

Hermione tried to move Harry out of the room, while Griffin went to untie Theo. Harry made it to the doorway before turning around and addressing Tristan again. “Did you set Draco up?” he asked firmly, but Tristan didn’t answer.

Harry stormed back over to him and leaned over the terrified looking blonde. “I asked you a question. Did you and Theo trick Draco into cheating on me?”

Draco didn’t think that Tristan was going to answer and moved to pull Harry from the room, when suddenly Tristan nodded. “You should have seen your face that night,” the boy laughed maniacally. “I almost won too, I was so close to getting you to sleep with me, and then Malfoy never would have wanted you back.”

With a noise that sounded like both a battle cry and a sobbing scream, Harry kicked Tristan in the gut over and over until he was begging for Harry to stop. After a few seconds, the shock wore off and the rest of the group pulled Harry off of the limp and bleeding boy. Tristan weakly flopped over onto his other side when the blows ceased, retching and coughing up blood as tears of pain rolled unheeded down his cheeks.

Hermione waved both Harry and Draco off, promising to clean things up in Theo’s dorm. Draco walked the now sobbing Harry away from the scene in complete silence, something clawing at the inside of his belly.

When he reached Harry’s door, he pushed it open and guided the brunette gently to his bed. He was about to leave, figuring that Harry would want to be alone, when he saw the broken glass and picture frame on the floor.

He recognized it at once as the one he had given Harry for his birthday three years ago, a reminder of what could have been between them. He didn’t see the picture though, and as he turned around to ask Harry where it was, he lost his will to speak at the blank expression on Harry’s face as the raven-haired boy stared off at nothing.

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Harry felt blank.

His whole sight consisted of nothing but white television snow. His limbs felt slack and distant, almost as if they were the memory of a dream. There was a buzzing in his ears, drowning out all other sound; it felt like it might never fade. At the moment, though, he hardly cared if it did or not. He had been prepared to see Tristan’s betrayal first hand; he even welcomed it as proof that he was making the right choice by leaving him.

He hadn’t been prepared for the harsh truth of the prat’s words however, nor for the mocking tone with which they were delivered. Something about having given part of his heart over to someone who held such contempt for him made him snap.

Draco had been telling the truth about being set up, being tricked, and Harry had scoffed at him and thrown him away like the compulsive liar he had thought he was. He was a fool for trusting Tristan and he was even more foolish for letting Draco go.

If Draco never forgave him it would serve Harry right. Even after everything he knew, he didn’t know if he could ever trust his relationship with Draco; it seemed to be destined to fail and to cause him pain at every turn.

“Harry?” a familiar voice asked, overpowering the buzzing in his ears. “Harry, are you okay?”

He tried to shake his head, but wasn’t sure if it was working or not. He felt so numb. His whole body seemed to shiver, but he felt no cold, and his heart started to shatter when he thought of what he had lost because of that slimy git Tristan, and what he could have lost if it hadn’t been for his friends interceding.

His friends and Draco.

Harry had no idea how much time had passed when he felt a warm hand rubbing circles on his back and wiping at his face. Harry blinked once or twice, only just then realizing that he was crying. He peered lazily through the snow to see Draco watching him carefully.

“Draco?” he rasped, marveling at how broken and distant his own voice sounded in his ears.

“I’m here, unless you don’t want me to be,” Draco replied tentatively, his movements stopping and an unreadable look crossing his face, which made Harry think that he would leave.

He grabbed Draco’s arm and held onto it firmly. “Don’t go,” he whispered, and thought he saw Draco smile slightly before pulling him into a tight embrace.

“I’ll stay as long as you want me. I’ll stay forever if you ask me to,” he promised.

Harry didn’t respond: even in his current state, he knew it was a bad idea to ask anything like that of his ex. Who could tell how they would feel in the morning after the shock wore off?

Instead he just leaned into Draco and cried, letting his whole body shake with the impact of his tears. Draco held him all night, his strong arms wrapped around Harry even as they both fell asleep.

Authors Note: I'm in the process of packing and moving into my new house, so writing time is starting to lag. I've posted a poll regarding this problem on my yahoo group (which you can find on my profile) and anyone wishing to weigh in can join and add their two cents.