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Author's Note: I'm so excited to note that my yahoo group now has over 150 members! It makes me grin to know that my writing is appreciated. There you'll find an archive of all my completed work as well as the image headers I make for every story (completed or not, sometimes even before I begin posting the stories at all). I occasionally post polls and every update is noted on the site as well, so if you haven't signed up yet, you should. The information is on my profile. Thanks to Angel for Beta reading!

Chapter 17 What’s a Betrayal or Two Between Friends?

The truth of the matter was, Ron Weasley knew he was in over his head. He had known that before he came to be surrounded by haphazard towers of boxes, and before he’d met with Harry’s old flame and even before he’d sent in the request to look through Harry’s file. Finding out what Harry Potter had been up to when both Harry and the Ministry wanted to keep it a secret was no small task, but Ron had thought he was up to the challenge of unmasking his powerful friend so that Harry didn’t have to hide any longer.

So far, Ron had only discovered that his friend of nearly two decades was a whore, or at least he was at some point in his life, however brief. To prove this theory he had pictures of Harry attending orgies, getting blowjobs in alleys and various photos of him with several different sexual partners over the span of his absence from London. He had news reports that had been pulled before publication with interviews of Harry’s partners calling him ‘wild’, ‘easy’ or even ‘willing to try anything’. As disturbing as this news was to Ron, he couldn’t feel anything other than pity for his dear friend.

Obviously Harry had taken the war and its aftermath much harder than anyone had realized, including himself and Hermione. While he and the rest of his family were attending funerals and mourning losses, unbeknownst to anyone Harry was wallowing in his own pit of despair. His friends had all thought that he needed some time alone, but based on the evidence piling up before Ron, Harry never spent much time alone while he was away. He’d essentially been on a downward spiral of depression; Ron could see that clearly from Harry’s expression in some of the pictures taken without his knowledge. Where some people would choose addictive numbing potions or alcohol to drown their sorrows and memories, Harry used sex to float away to his own quiet place.

The man didn’t look even remotely pleased throughout most of the photos he’d seen. If Ron were stranded nude in the middle of a dozen equally nude women, all vying to pay him attention, no one would have been able to keep the smile from his face – except for maybe Hermione. But Harry in the same situation, even though it was sweaty naked men that surrounded him instead, poor Harry just looked like he was going through the motions. No hint of mirth, no happy twinkle in his eyes, not one thing Ron saw indicated that Harry was having a truly good time in any of this evidence.

Then there was Xander.

Ron had discovered proof of what the man had said, the eye-witness sightings of Harry at the airport with Xander, some mail addressed to Harry’s flat with Xander’s name on it, even a photo of Harry and Xander walking along the beach together in what Ron assumed was Ibiza. In that photo Harry looked happy, or at the very least content. After that, the stories grew less imaginative until they dwindled down to photos of Harry kissing another man, or drinking a shot out of someone’s belly button until there wasn’t anything to report at all.

It was fairly clear to Ron that Xander helped to heal Harry from his war wounds, but Harry was still too broken to keep once he’d betrayed Xander’s trust one too many times, which left its own scars –injuries that were still too raw for his heroic friend.

Could Malfoy mend those gashes in Harry’s heart? Or would the Slytherin just slice them wider? Ron thought that question over and over again as he levitated each of the Quibbler’s ‘Harry Potter’ boxes back into place and when he was through he still didn’t have a good answer.

What he did know was that he needed to talk to Harry and confess what he’d done and make sure the man knew that he was on his side no matter what. Everyone had skeletons in their closets and things that they’d rather the general public not know about them, and Ron was no angel himself. He would support Harry and help him in whatever way the man needed, especially now that he knew his friend wasn’t quite as strong and impenetrable as he let everyone believe.

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Harry balked when he returned to his office the next day to see that his workload had tripled. With a sigh, he sank into his plush leather chair and set to it, weeding through the items in his inbox as he had the previous day. After several hours he hadn’t made much of a dent in the load aside from throwing away a few bits that were basically rubbish. This was because two letters absorbed all of his attention. One was the message he had discovered the day before about someone checking out his file, and the other was an invitation to a charity event tonight he just didn’t want to go to.

The first was easy to take care of. He’d just go down to archives, look at the list of files checked out and see who signed for his. Cake. Although, then he’d have to confront the person and discover why his file was being checked out in the first place. That was trickier since he still couldn’t think of a good reason for anyone to rummage through his file when they had the live person willing to talk right there in the building. The only reason to look through his file instead of speaking to him directly was if that person was somehow being underhanded.

The other parchment wasn’t nearly as easy to deal with. The charity was to assist pureblood families whose homes had been destroyed and vaults depleted in the war. It was an odd charity, one he didn’t particularly agree with. The funds would only serve to benefit a few families – some of whom had notable activity in assisting Voldemort’s side of the war - and most of those had already turned their lives around since the end of the war. The charity ball was an annual event, however, and it seemed it would go on whether it had families to help or not. Harry didn’t want to go, but Kingsley liked for him to participate in as many events as he could. He would think for the rest of the afternoon on a way to get out of it and if nothing came to him, he would be forced to send back his reply that he’d attend. Not approving of the charity would not be a good enough reason for Kingsley, who wanted his Head Auror to stay in the public eye at all times.

Since he didn’t have the right answer yet, he decided to take care of problem number one.

Down on the Archival floor, the cubicles were bustling with people scanning through files, stamping them and then setting them to the side only to move on to another. He made his way to the end of a long corridor and noticed a nameplate on the door that read: Gwendolyn Sparks – Archival Associate.

It was the office for the woman who had signed the letter to his attention so he knocked on the open door and waited for the elderly witch to look up and take note of him. She held up her finger as she continued to read the passage she was skimming and then flipped the page before giving her attention to Harry. “May I help you?” she asked and then her eyes widened slightly. “Oh, Mr. Potter. Terribly sorry, I didn’t realize it was you.”

“No trouble, Mrs. Sparks. I got your letter yesterday and wondered if I might have a look at the log to see who checked out my file,” Harry replied promptly.

“Of course!” she exclaimed, clearly happy to be of any kind of service to The Harry Potter. She rummaged in her desk for a small golden key and then slipped through the door passed Harry, flagging that he follow her. She led him to a small room at the end of her hall and pushed inside, keeping it open for Harry who trailed in right behind her. Against one wall was a glass cabinet with a large book inside and she strode over to it purposefully before inserting her key into the tiny lock on the case.

Once the case was opened, she flipped through the last couple pages in the book, running her index finger down a long row until she apparently found what she was looking for. Harry was hovering over her right shoulder, but he was blocked from seeing the name until she shifted slightly. “Ah yes, here it is. Your file, Mr. Potter, was checked out by…oh, why that’s curious indeed.”

“Ron?” Harry whispered, seeing the name printed clearly next to his friend’s sloppy signature. “Why would Ron check out my file?”

“I haven’t the foggiest, Dearie,” the woman replied with a curt shake of her head and then promptly locked the cabinet again. They left the way they came in and Harry waved at the older woman as she made a beeline for her own office, leaving Harry alone to finish his journey to the lifts.

Once back in the Auror department, Harry lingered outside Ron’s office for what felt like ages. He wasn’t sure how to approach him, but figured his friend deserved a chance to explain himself. Maybe he’d been given a special mission and needed information from it, maybe he was trying to find the perfect birthday present, though that was unlikely since it wasn’t nearly July yet and Hermione always did that kind of shopping for them both.

Suddenly Harry realized he was just making excuses and tentatively knocked, his heat thrumming wildly in his chest. “Ron? Do you have a minute?” he asked at last.

“Sure, Mate. What’s on your mind?” Ron asked.

“Did you check out my file recently?” Harry watched Ron’s face distort into several different emotions in the instant before he said ‘No, why?’. Harry was furious that his friend would lie to him so blatantly – and so poorly at that. He felt the need to confront him head on. “Well, because there is a log downstairs that says you did, and I was wondering why that was?”

“A log, huh?” Ron asked, trying his best to look perplexed but coming up short. All at once he sighed and looked terribly worried. “So, here’s the thing, Harry. I checked the file out, and I was going to tell you I swear, but I needed to know what it was you’d been keeping from Mione and me all these years. I met Xander and-”

“You met Xander?” Harry interrupted, his tone seething. “What right do you have to meddle in my affairs, Ron?”

“I wasn’t meddling,” Ron replied defensively. “I was trying to help.”

“I told you that I wanted the subject dropped. How could you do this? I trusted you,” Harry balked; unaware of the attention his heightened tone had pulled.

“I know, Harry, and I feel like rubbish, but I simply had to know. We’re friends and friend don’t keep secrets from one another,” Ron pressed.

“Like your sneaking off with my file, you mean that kind of secret?” Harry scoffed.

“I was going to tell you. I got worried about you spending so much time with Malfoy,” Ron persisted but Harry just shook his head.

“You’re worse than Malfoy ever was. At least he’s upfront in his underhandedness,” Harry growled.

“Just hear me out, Harry,” Ron begged.

“There’s no need. I understand perfectly and I only hope you enjoyed the learning experience,” Harry snapped as he turned on his heel and stormed to his office, slamming the door behind him and warding it against intruders.

He tried to calm down but couldn’t manage, so in a moment of desperation, he fire called Draco, his last tether to sanity. Lucius answered and gave him a speculative look. “Mr. Potter,” he greeted.

“I need to speak to Draco,” Harry replied, foregoing the niceties. He felt frazzled and betrayed and he had an inkling that only Draco could help rid him of those anxieties. He needed someone to talk to about this, and Hermione would be useless since it was her husband they would be discussing.

“Regrettably, I’m afraid he’s already on his way to the charity ball tonight,” Lucius replied.

“I’ll just see him there then,” Harry sighed. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure, Mr. Potter,” Lucius replied and the fire call ended.

He didn’t want to go, but the event would take his mind off of the reeling betrayal he felt at Ron’s presumptuous behavior. How many times had Harry asked him to leave it be? How many times had he told the man that he didn’t want to share that part of his life? Now his best friend – and probably both of them by now – knew all about his atrocious behavior and they’d never look at him the same way again. He couldn’t bear their disgusted looks and discomfort in his presence. This was the very thing he’d been trying to avoid with his silence on the subject.

Draco would distract him though, and he felt he might even reward that distraction with what Draco had been looking for all along. There was no doubt in Harry’s mind that sex with Draco would erase these terrible feelings brooding in his heart, even if just for a few hours. It would also appease his boss, since Harry would be making at least a brief appearance until he could persuade Draco to take him home, killing two birds with one stone as it were.

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Dressed in his favorite pewter gray robes – a color he realized with a smile, matched perfectly to Draco’s smoldering eyes – Harry set out for the charity ball.

Immediately he was barraged with a sea of guests hoping to make his acquaintance or impress him in some way, but Harry was not so easily impressed. His eyes sought out Draco while he spoke to a portly man who wanted Harry to come visit him for dinner some night. Apparently he had three beautiful daughters he’d like to introduce to him. It also seemed the man never read the news and hadn’t realized that Harry was, in fact, quite gay.

“I’m afraid I must disappoint you, Sir,” Harry replied cordially. “I’m in fact dating someone.”

“Oh?” he asked, somewhat deflated. “Is it serious?” The man seemed hopeful but Harry could only smile as his eyes met their target across the dance floor.

There, in elegant splendor, was the man he was finally willing to admit was his boyfriend. He’d spent quite a bit of time with Draco lately and was finally able to acknowledge the man wasn’t everything Harry had previously thought him to be. He was kind and generous, clever and funny. He certainly wasn’t the same war-mongering prat Harry had grown up with but he hadn’t lost his confident edge either. He wasn’t perfect, but he was perfect for Harry.

“I think it’s very serious, yes,” Harry admitted, more to himself than to the man standing between him and his boyfriend.

“Pity,” the man muttered and Harry excused himself to move closer to the blond gliding around the dance floor.

Draco was dancing with someone else, not terribly surprising to Harry. No doubt he’d be roped into several dances himself before he was permitted to leave. However, there was something unsettling about the situation and Harry caught himself spying on the blond from across the room. Draco’s dance partner was a fair woman, almost as blonde as himself. She wore a delicate blue dress with a shimmering bodice and Harry caught Draco glancing not once, but twice at the woman’s chest.

It became obvious, both with the closeness of the dance and with the leering glances Draco bestowed upon the girl that he was attracted to her. This, of course, only served to anger Harry to no end and he stood on the sidelines locked in a jealous rage as they moved gracefully along the dance floor.

Still, Harry tried to reel himself in. Sure, Draco might be attracted to the woman; there was nothing wrong with attraction alone. In fact, Harry occasionally caught himself admiring a nice arse here or there, or a Quidditch toned body when watching a game. So long as Draco didn’t act upon his attraction, all would be well. Mostly. Or, at least it would be once Harry could get the blond home and make him forget all about the woman from the charity ball.

So, he waited patiently for the song to end, sure that his boyfriend would give her a courteous bow and then slip off to mingle elsewhere. But that didn’t happen. Instead, Draco walked her to the edge of the room, placed a delicate kiss on her hand and made her giggle. With narrowed eyes, Harry decided that he absolutely despised giggling. He wanted to somehow discreetly dispatch of the woman winning his boyfriend’s attentions and steal him away for a stern lesson. But even the giggling would have been acceptable had he not left with her.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. It was like being stuck in a nightmare he couldn’t awake from as the man he had finally bestowed an ounce of trust in left with some brazen slut, only to have all Harry’s trust dashed away. Discovering the second betrayal of the evening was too much for Harry to handle, and he decided to take action. Without even greeting the hostess, Harry excused himself from the party and Apparated directly to Malfoy Manor.

His fist seemed tiny against the massive door, but it made a loud enough sound to warrant an eventual answer. Unexpectedly, however, it was Draco himself who came to the door, not one of their many house-elves.

“How could you?” Harry asked. “Is she in there now?”

“Is who in where?” Draco inquired, looking genuinely puzzled. “What are you on about, Harry?”

“I saw you with her at the ball,” he explained. “I know you left with her.”

“Annabelle?” he asked and Harry glowered. “I walked her to the Apparition point. I was trying to be a gentleman. I only came back here so that I could fire call you and ask you to join me there.”

“I was already there,” Harry hissed.

“Clearly,” Draco drawled. He was showing the first signs of annoyance at Harry’s irrational behavior but Harry didn’t care.

“I saw you,” Harry reminded him, his voice dropping into a deep whisper. “You were all over her.”

Draco bristled at this. “First of all, you do not control me, Harry Potter,” he snapped. “You’ve yet to commit to me, you won’t even tell me what we are to one another, yet you expect me to adhere to a set of rules you’ve never made clear?”

“I did make them clear when I-” he began but Draco cut him of with a raised hand. It annoyed Harry to no end, but he snapped his mouth shut and waited for Draco to finish.

“You’ve told me that we’re not dating, Harry,” he continued, gentler this time. “You must excuse me if I get confused about your intentions. But for the record, I was only entertaining Annabelle briefly tonight because her husband fell ill and had to leave the party early.”

“Husband,” Harry repeated, somewhat dumbfounded.

“Yes, Harry. She was married and had no interest in me whatsoever,” Draco explained.

Harry scoffed and shook his head. “I find it hard to believe she had no interest,” he said and noted the smirk he received in return before pressing on. “Even so, you were interested in her.”

“She’s adequate, yes,” he mused, his eyes drifting away as if replaying the night. “And had she been thrust upon me a few months ago I might have – no, scratch that, I certainly would have made her betray her vows and bed me. But now there is you, Harry,” he breathed, his eyes locking on Harry’s once more. “If you would have me you would be all I needed because there is no one else like you in the whole world.”

Draco’s sentiment erased some of the hurt and betrayal Harry had felt at watching the man with someone else. Part of him wanted to give himself over completely to the blond as he’d originally intended but the rest of him couldn’t stand the idea of getting hurt again.

“So, do I have you, Harry?” Draco pried, his gaze full of anxious hope.

Harry sighed and bit into his bottom lip. “Ask me again tomorrow,” he told the Slytherin. “I have a lot of thinking to do.” And he did. He didn’t trust Draco, tonight proved that much at least, and he couldn’t go flying off the handle every time Draco looked at a pretty face – or bosom – or danced with another person. He had to figure out a way to know that he could trust the man completely, only then could they even stand a chance at a happy life together.

With that in mind, Harry kissed Draco gently on the cheek before Apparating away, leaving Draco staring out in the dark after him.

Author's Note: So, a little Draco in this chapter, a little progress, a little blow up... does everyone still hate Ron? I don't, but then I have the entire story in my head, not just the pieces I've given you. lol. I know it's been a while longer between updates than usual, but I'm winding down a couple stories, so that should leave me more time to focus on some of these that have been lingering.