I wish I'd brought my Jacket

I Wish I’d brought my Jacket

A/N: A word of warning. I do not hate Hermione Granger, I love her character but I needed to make her evil in this chapter. So many of you asked for a sequel and I just couldn’t leave part one the way it ended. So this is the result, don’t like, don’t read. Also it is a heart wrenching chapter and touches on drug use. There is a link at the end to show where my information came from. I am not a drug user, never have been, so I have no idea about side effects etc. That’s why the link is there. Please leave a review if you take the time to read. Thanks.

A huge thank you to my wonderful beta, shadowsamurai. You’re always there when I need you most.

Part 2: Holding On: Draco’s POV

He’s gone. My Harry, gone, just like that. He never even said goodbye. Not that I blame him really. I am so glad I didn’t see his face when he ran from my room; it would have torn me apart. I didn’t need anyone telling me I’d fucked up big time - I already knew. It just hurts so much, knowing I broke my Harry’s heart. But I am determined to fix it, which is why I’m running down the street with tears obscuring my vision and the bitter wind biting at my cheeks.

I don’t care if I freeze my balls off. I’d cut them off myself if I could. I betrayed the only person in my life that I have ever loved unconditionally, and all because the Mud… sorry, I mean, Granger, dug her claws in and it all went tits up. I can’t believe just how stupid I was. I used to be a former Death Eater in the making, for fuck’s sake, and I failed to notice that something was amiss. All I can do is keep on running. I’m hoping he’s still there, in our favourite place. I brought his jacket. The silly sod left it behind in his rush to flee. I know how cold he gets. Why is my life never simple? I’m replaying everything over in my head; it’s making me dizzy, but I have to keep going.

It seems like eons ago when it all happened, but it was only a few hours. It had taken my brain five minutes to register the fact that Harry had gone. I heard the front door banging and his car speeding off, but I didn’t move to follow him. Burying my head under the pillow didn’t help, either; I could smell him everywhere. Flashes of my infidelity with her passed before my eyes. We had nearly fucked each other senseless when we heard Harry return from college. I’d just made it to my room before the tears came.

Whenever Granger and I had sex, it was as though I was in a different time and a different place. I was just going through the motions, with no feeling or anything. I didn’t even enjoy it, but I also didn’t remember where I was. There was no Harry, just me and her.

Afterwards was always awkward, and then there were the headaches, memory lapses, disgust, and most of all, regret. The memories of what we had just done would come back full force. She would get dressed as if nothing had happened, and leave me there to come round. I say ‘come round’ because now I know why I was always out of sorts during our trysts. Poor Harry, I couldn’t even look at him when he climbed into my bed at night. He would take me in his arms and ask me if everything was alright. I wanted to tell him, really I did, and I tried. But every time I opened my mouth to tell him, my head started to feel fuzzy. Even though I knew something had happened, I couldn’t remember what, so I would just clam up.

Now I fuckin’ understand why. That bitch is the reason Harry’s gone. Bloody hell, it’s freezing. I hope he’s okay without his jacket.

You probably want to know what happened, don’t you? It hurts to say it, but I didn’t want to be the evil bastard in all of this mess. You’ll have to bear with me while I catch my breath. All this running isn’t good for me, especially when I’m sobbing and thinking at the same time. I’m getting funny looks from passers-by, but I don’t give a flying fuck. I just want to find Harry, and fast. I have no intention of calling in the Muggle Police, not yet anyway. He’s only been gone about an hour, maybe two at the most. Hell, he may even come back. He’s taken nothing, not even his mobile phone or wallet. I want to find him, hold him in my arms and never, ever let him go again.

Please don’t let me be too late. I know what Harry’s like. He gets very moody easily and cries at the slightest thing. I blame the war, the loss of his best friend, and lack of intimacy and love in his life for his insecurities. Now it’s just been made worse by one of his so-called friends and his supposed boyfriend. God, Harry, I’m so sorry, my love. Just hold on for me, baby, please.

Fuck me, I’m muttering out loud now. If… no, I mean when I find him, I’ll explain everything to him, if he listens, and tell him where it all went wrong. I’m not blameless, not by a long shot, but I do have an honest explanation. Thinking back now, there were times when I wondered why she was being so friendly.

She would always make me a cup of tea, which I would drink without questioning why she was being nice. I had no reason to. It was only a fuckin’ cup of tea, for God’s sake. Little did I know what she’d been adding to it, though. I tell you, if she’d been a pureblood, she would have made an excellent Slytherin. The sly bitch has been feeding me LSD, or ‘Acid’ as we like to call it, for the last few weeks. ‘Got it from a reliable source,’ she said. I snorted at this, just wondering who that person or persons may be. She said it as though it was a perfectly normal thing to do, drug your flatmate so you can get him between the sheets. But that’s not all; no, she had to go one better, didn’t she? And here was me thinking Pansy Parkinson was a sly, manipulative cow, but Granger takes the first prize.

I have been drinking tea laced with fuckin’ Acid and… wait for it… the one and only Imperius Curse, which she managed to obtain from somewhere in a liquid form. Well, it’s not really the Imperius Curse, obviously, but it pretty much does the same thing. She didn’t tell me the name of it, only that she paid a lot of money for it from a witch in Knockturn Alley. Who would have thought that sweet, innocent Hermione Granger would be so fuckin’ desperate to resort to Dark Magic?

The LSD on its own is bad enough. That’s what was causing the memory lapses and my odd sexual behaviour. But mixed with her ‘magic potion’, I was on a one way ticket to destruction; whatever she told me do, I did without question, because I didn’t fuckin’ well realise I was being controlled!

“You don’t love Harry, do you, Draco?”

“No, Hermione.”

“You’re going to fuck me now, Draco, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Hermione.”

And so it went on, for two weeks. What an absolute wanker I am. How the fuck she managed to keep it from both Harry and me is beyond me. I really have no idea how she did it.

It took me a long time to get the information out of her in the end. Maybe it was my hands around her throat that made her tell. I hope she’s proud of what she’s done. She broke up a perfect relationship and I wonder how she sleeps at night. She didn’t even feel guilty or show any remorse whatsoever. I just hope Harry is okay and we can work things out. I don’t want to lose him. I can’t, not now, not ever. He’s my drug, my fix. He’s the air that I breathe, the tears that I cry, but most of all, he’s my life. I love him so much it fuckin’ hurts.

I was still coming down from my last dose of Granger’s ‘potion’ when I told Harry our relationship was a mistake. ‘I was only experimenting,’ I told him. What a fuckin’ nut job I am. No wonder he ran off. What must he be thinking? I had no control of my thoughts or anything, though. She had made it perfectly clear what I was to tell him.

I’m gay, for fuck’s sake, or did she forget that little bit of information? I had never slept with a girl before, so why would I start now? The only sexual contact I had experienced before Harry was a heavy frotting session with Blaise Zabini at the beginning of the sixth year. I knew then I was gay. Pansy could bounce her tits in front of me all day long and I could never rise to the occasion. But watching Harry across the Great Hall, licking his lips after every spoonful of treacle tart, would result in an immediate erection. God, I’m babbling, again.

I’m here, at our spot, and the only sign of Harry is his car. I walk slowly towards it, afraid to look inside, but I do. He’s not there… fuck, fuck, and fuck again. Where is he?

“Harry? Harry, where are you? Please, talk to me, baby, let me explain. Harry?” Obviously shouting is no good. He’s gone. I clutch his jacket firmly in my hand and sink to my knees. I let my head fall onto the piece of clothing I’m grasping and inhale his cologne. And then the floodgates open. I feel as though I could cry forever. I must look a sight, what with a bright red, tear-stained face, and snot running out of my nose faster than the waves that are crashing onto the shore. Then it hits me. Harry wouldn’t leave me without saying goodbye, he wouldn’t.

I scramble up from the sand and open the car door. That’s when I see it, his journal lying on the passenger seat. With trembling hands, I gather it up and climb into the front seat. I don’t even register the fact that Harry was sat in the same place not that long ago. I begin to read and wish I hadn’t. Everything is here, from our first time to what happened a few hours prior. I can feel my stomach clench as I read how much he was hurting. I want to scream, punch something, anything, to make it all go away. But it won’t. It’s there, in black and white, my betrayal, or should I say HER betrayal. I hate her right now, more than I did at school. I want so much for her to suffer. Maybe I could feed her the bloody potion and have her jump from a fiftieth floor window somewhere.

I smile at that thought, but it soon fades when I read the last part of Harry’s journal. Tucked behind the last page is a piece of paper with my name on the front. I turn it over, and as I read, I feel the nausea rising in my throat.

I stumble out of the car just in time to hurl my guts up on the sand. And then I scream and pass out. I don’t know how long I was out for, but when I came to, the tide was so far out I felt as though I was in a bloody desert.

“He’s gone, I was too late… I…I’ve lost him.” I’m talking out loud, but I don’t really care. I just want to sit here and let the sea carry me out eventually. At least we’ll be together again.

I don’t even want to think about going home without Harry. My beautiful, perfect Harry. I whisper his name over and over again as I gaze out at the vast expanse of water. If I look hard enough, I can see something bulky lying near the water’s edge. It could be anything, from a clump of seaweed to a body.

“Wait, a body? Fuckin’ sweet Merlin, HARRY! ” I take off across the sand as fast as my tired legs can carry me. The closer I get, the faster I run. My adrenalin has reached bursting point and it feels as though I’m running the London Marathon. I stop dead in my tracks as I look in horror at the lifeless body lying there. It’s Harry alright, but I’m afraid to go any closer. Scared shitless, in fact. ‘“He’s dead, oh God, he’s dead,’” I mutter to myself. But then I hear a soft whimper. I drop to my knees and pull him close to my body.

“Harry, baby, can you hear me?” He smells of sea water and he’s freezing. I wrap his jacket around him and try to rub some heat back into his body.

“Dray?”

“Yeah, in the flesh, love. What have you been doing to yourself, huh?” Stupid question, I guess; it was bloody obvious what he’d tried to do. He’s trying to speak, but it comes out in a whisper. I move my head closer to his lips and my breath catches in my throat at his words.

“You c… came? ‘M… s… sorry. I… I c… couldn’t do it, Dra… co. I… I couldn’t leave you. I love you. Take me home, please.” I lift him into my arms and walk slowly back to the car, talking quietly to my precious bundle the whole time. I had to make sure he stayed awake. His arms are tightly gripping my shoulders and as I reach the car, I have to prise them from me to open the door to the back seat. I lay him down gently and pull off his wet clothes, tossing them aside, and strip out of mine. He looks at me with fear in his eyes.

“Wh… what you doing? D… don’t hurt me, please.” He looks terrified. I grab the blanket he keeps on the back seat and wrap it around my naked form. I lean over him and place a soft kiss on his lips.

“I’m not going to hurt you, baby. I’m giving you my clothes to wear. They’re warm and dry, even though they’re covered in sand, but I don’t want you becoming hypothermic, not now. I have to explain everything to you, Harry. I… I’m so sorry, my love, so so sorry.”

He starts to cry, and I move over to him and pull him into my lap. He clings to me like a life line and sobs uncontrollably. I stroke his hair, dislodging a fistful of sand, and whisper soothing words in his ear. He calms down after a while and he seems a lot warmer too. So I begin to tell him everything.

He’s so quiet afterwards, I begin to wonder if he’s fallen asleep. Then he raises his head and crashes his lips against mine. We kiss like there’s no tomorrow, passionately at first, then aggressively. His teeth clamp down on my bottom lip and I can taste blood, but I don’t care. I let him take his anger out on me; I deserve it. When his teeth leave my bloodied lip, he lowers his head and fumbles with the blanket. His next words send me spiralling out of control. “Make love to me, Draco. Make me forget all this ever happened.”

I know he’s not angry at me. I also know he isn’t strong enough just now and needs to rest. But I can’t drive, so we curl up on the back seat and talk about us, our future, where we go from here. One thing we are both certain about is Hermione. She’s not going to get away with what she did to me, to us. Harry wants her gone from the flat as soon as we get back, and I want to get her charged with possession of illegal substances and passing them on to me without my knowledge or consent. But all that can wait. I have Harry back in my arms where he belongs, and I’m going to make love to him on the backseat of his car.

When all this is over, we can look back and smile. We didn’t give up on each other; we never could. I’ll also make sure Harry never leaves his bloody jacket behind again. I love him to bits, but he does whine too much when he’s cold. I shouldn’t complain, really; I love warming him up. And on that note, I slowly enter his body and thank whatever Gods are out there for this second chance and precious moment. I promise myself I will never ever hurt Harry again. I’m so relieved he kept holding on to that little spark between us. I’m never going to let him go, ever. He’s mine, for eternity.

FIN


Coming up… Hermione’s POV.

http://www.nida.nih.gov/Infofacts/LSD.html