I wish I'd brought my Jacket
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Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
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Adult +
Chapters:
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Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
4,297
Reviews:
19
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Part 3: Sorry Seems To Be the Hardest Word, Hermi
Disclaimer: Same as Part One.
A/N: I would just like to say a huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story. I had no idea it would get so much interest. There are two more parts to come, so sit back and enjoy part 3 just now.
A very, very huge thanks and hugs to shadow_samurai for the wonderful beta work and ideas. You are a lifesaver, hun, love ya!
Part 3, Hermione’s POV
Sorry Seems To Be the Hardest Word
.
It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way. I can’t believe it backfired! All my time and effort went into ‘The Plan’ and it has blown up in my face. I’ve lost Draco, but also my closest friend in the world, Harry. How could I do that to him? Well it was easy, to start with. How was I to know that Draco would fall in love with him and vice versa? You’re probably wondering why I did it. Well, here’s my story.
I had always been closer to Harry than I was to Ron, even though I loved him. I miss Ron terribly, but I moved on. I still keep in touch with Ginny, and it was Ron’s wish to see his little sister and Harry settle down, get married, and have lots of little mini-Harrys running around. I promised, and I never break a promise. No one would have thought that someone like me would be so sly and manipulative, but there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there? After all, I was… I mean, I am, the smartest witch of our time. So I was told, anyway. Sorry, I’m rambling. It’s just hard to believe that I messed everything up. Maybe I should start somewhere near the beginning.
I had pleaded with Harry to let Draco move in with us. I knew they had become friends, and by the way Draco looked at Harry, I could tell there were deeper feelings there. I had to do something, anything, to keep the Slytherin Slut’s claws from digging into Harry.
I knew Harry wasn’t gay; he never had been. I mean, look at his past relationships. Yeah, they never worked out, but it was always girls he was interested in. So why the sudden change? I’ve no idea. Maybe he didn’t know what he wanted and he was still trying to determine which way he swung. I wasn’t convinced, of course. Harry always lusted over Ginny. He told me once that he couldn’t wait to pound her into the nearest mattress. I suggested the Room of Requirement, but he never got the chance. The war was upon us so quickly we didn’t have time for anything else.
But getting back to the reason I wanted Draco to move in. I thought, just for a moment, that if Draco made his feelings known, Harry would turn green and declare his undying love for Ginny, telling Draco that he was as straight as a ruler. Trust Harry to be the one doing the lusting. I was shocked beyond belief when he told me one evening over dinner. “Hermione,” he said, “um, er… I… I think I’m falling for Draco, in a big way. What am I going to do?”
What could I tell him, huh? I couldn’t very well say, ‘ Merlin, Harry, he’s an evil slimeball, don’t even think about it,’ could I? No, I had to bite my tongue and try my hardest to placate my best friend.
“Harry, I thought you loved Ginny? Don’t get me wrong, I will still love you, and I am happy for you, really, sweetie, but is this what you honestly want?” He nodded his reply and I knew then that my dearest Harry was indeed gay. Maybe that’s why his heterosexual relationships never worked. He said he didn’t feel that way for Ginny any more; she was more like a sister to him now. He had a point, I suppose, but it wasn’t helping the ‘Draco’ problem. So what did I do? I told him to go and speak to Draco and tell him, thinking Harry would be too nervous and shy to even think about pouring his heart out to his one-time enemy. How wrong I was.
Turns out Draco, ‘the mighty white bouncing ferret,’ had been acting strangely around Harry, and it was because his feelings for him had become so strong, he was afraid to be in the same room as Harry in case he said or did something to scare him off. I wish he had done, and then I wouldn’t have resorted to playing a dangerous game just to get my two friends to hook up. Ginny was always asking to come round so she could see Harry, and I had to keep letting her down gently with excuses that I knew she didn’t believe for a minute. “Sorry, Ginny, not tonight. Harry’s not home ’til late; he’s got an essay he needs to work on in the library.” The disappointment on her face made me want to cry.
The real reason I couldn’t invite her over was because whenever I arrived home, Harry and Draco were always curled up together on the couch, snogging, giggling, sometimes touching each other, or talking quietly. It made me want to gag. At least they didn’t shag each other in front of me. I would have been scarred for life seeing that. I had to do something, anything, to put a wedge between them.
The last thing I wanted to do was hurt Harry. I couldn’t care two hoots about Draco; he’d get over it. Maybe go back to one of his ex’s with his tail between his legs and leave Harry to pine. The plan was that if they split, Harry would of course be devastated, and then Ginny would come over to comfort him and tell him she loves him, and blah, blah, blah. But that’s not how it happened, unfortunately.
I spoke with a colleague at work, who was notorious for dumping men and moving straight onto the next, and asked him how I could make Harry see sense. He suggested drugging Draco with a Muggle drug called LSD, which he could get for me at short notice if I wanted some. I was a bit wary at first, until he told me what it did to the victim. Of course, there was a catch. The drug would only become more potent if it was mixed with the Imperius Curse. I shook my head at this. There was no way I was casting an Unforgivable on Draco. I wasn’t that evil, although it did sound like the answer to all my problems. He went on to tell me that I wouldn’t have to cast it; there was a potion of some sort that had the same effect as the Imperius, and it was available in Knockturn Alley.
After giving it a lot of thought, I decided to take up the offer. So with a bag full of drugs, enough to last for a month, I put my plan into action. That was two weeks ago, and everything was going swimmingly. Draco would obey my commands and we’d have sex wherever we found a hard surface, but more often than not, it was on the sofa, or in my bed. I may be a cold-hearted bitch, but I would never do the dirty deed with him in his bed. He did share it with Harry now, and that was just out of the question.
It was difficult sometimes; Draco was very submissive. He showed no emotion at all and I knew he wasn’t enjoying it. I felt like slapping him on the odd occasion. The good thing about this whole fiasco was that while I was riding him (because he would never let me spread my legs out underneath him), his mind was Harry-free. The drugs worked wonders.
I would ask him if he loved Harry and he would frown as though he was trying to remember who Harry was, and then say , ‘No, Hermione.’ That always brought a smile to my face. I was controlling him and it felt great to have so much power over someone who had nearly become a Death Eater. I bet you’re wondering why I had sex with someone I felt nothing for, aren’t you? Well let me just say that although I didn’t have feelings for Draco, I would have done anything to keep him away from Harry. Ron would have been so proud of me; well, not the shagging part, but the plan in general.
There had been two agonizing weeks of sexual intercourse with the Slytherin Ice Prince and still nothing productive had come from it. Until yesterday. I’d started undressing Draco and was just about to slip off his boxers when we heard Harry’s car pull into the drive. I panicked. Even though I wanted Harry to find out, I didn’t want him to catch us at it. I was hoping Draco would tell him instead. So I planted that thought into Draco’s head as we grabbed our clothes. I told him he was to tell Harry that I was in love with him - Draco, that is, not Harry, in case you’re wondering - and also to say that he was just experimenting, he wasn’t gay, and he didn’t love Harry.
I watched as Draco stared at me with a vacant expression before he bolted for the stairs and climbed them two at a time. I was crying, he was crying, and I think it was because we both knew how close we had come to being caught. Harry bounded into the house, grinning goofily, and I felt my heart plummet to the pit of my stomach. I knew then I had done so much damage to my dearest friend, and I felt sick at the thought. Harry was smitten with Draco; there was no denying it. They were meant to be together. Not Harry and Ginny; that one was dead and buried a few years ago, and I should never have poked my nose in.
Ginny would just have to get over Harry the way he had gotten over her. He’d moved on, so why couldn’t she? Ron was dead and it wasn’t as though he could hound me to play matchmaker anymore. I’m kicking myself now, wondering why I didn’t think about that weeks ago. I feel terrible, but I’m not sure if I regret what I’ve done. Yes, I’m sorry for hurting Harry, but he’ll get over it. People get through break ups all the time; it’s no big deal. It’s ironic, though, I feel bad and yet I feel like I can’t say sorry to either of them. It’s true what they: sorry seems to be the hardest word in the English vocabulary.
I heard Harry ask me what the matter was and I told him to speak to Draco. What I didn’t expect was to see him tearing down the stairs five minutes later, sobbing his heart out. Draco had obviously told him everything I had said to. Poor Harry! My heart was breaking for him. He ran out the house so fast he forgot to take his jacket. I waited to see if he’d come back for it as he hates being cold, but he didn’t. All I heard instead were the screeching of his car tyres on the gravel outside as he drove away. I began to panic then. He was in no fit state to drive; he could crash the car or anything. I had to see Draco and try to put things right.
I was just about to head up the stairs when Draco literally flew down them, face contorted in rage, and he pushed me rather forcefully against the banister. It was as uncomfortable as hell, and became even more so when he wrapped his hands around my neck and started to squeeze. I was gasping for breath when the chilling words left his mouth.
“What did you do to me, you evil bitch?” I couldn’t say anything with his hands gripping my neck so tightly. I opened and closed my mouth, trying so hard to take in as much air as possible, and fought desperately to wrench his hands free. He loosened his grip a little, but only to shake me, causing my head to come into contact with the wooden handrail. I winced in pain, but he just kept yelling at me. “TELL ME, TELL ME NOW OR SO HELP ME, I’LL FUCKIN’ STRANGLE YOU TO DEATH! WHAT DID YOU DO? TELL ME!” He was becoming frantic and I eventually managed to mumble out my confession.
I think it was the shock of being unknowingly drugged that caused his hands to fall by his side. I rubbed at my bruised neck and tried to say something, anything, but he was hearing none of it. He slapped my face so hard that I saw stars clouding my vision, and then I watched him as he grabbed Harry’s jacket and ran from the house.
I hope to God that Draco finds Harry, and I am praying that the latter hasn’t done anything stupid. I could never live with myself if I knew Harry had taken his life because I decided that Draco wasn’t a suitable partner for him. I should have realized that you can’t change someone’s sexuality. Harry and Draco were happy and I should have been happy for them. What have I done? I have to get out of here. There is no way I can stay now. I have an awful feeling that something terrible has happened. It’s been hours since Draco left and he still hasn’t returned.
I don’t know what to do. I feel numb and utterly ashamed. I also feel dirty, as in ‘whore’ dirty. I willingly set out to destroy a perfectly good, loving relationship, and destroyed the last close friendship I had at the same time. I’m no better than a Slytherin and my parents would be totally affronted. They love Harry, always saying how much of a gentleman he is, and they will be devastated when they find out that their intelligent, caring, happy-go-lucky daughter has done something so terrible. I may also have to resign from my position at work as well. God, I was only there on a trial basis while I completed my final exams. I worked so hard at college to get where I am today, but now it’s all gone down the pan. And all because of my bloody stupid idea of avenging Ron’s death by fulfilling a promise I made. What an idiot. I’m definitely not the brightest witch anymore.
I must get out of here. I don’t think I can look Harry in the eye if he ever returns. Something is telling me he may never come back, and I feel my throat constrict at that thought. I’ve more or less killed my best friend, if not physically, then emotionally. If Draco returns alone, I certainly don’t want to be here. He’ll kill me, I know he will. He was so angry earlier that I thought I had taken my last breath at that point. No, I don’t want to be the victim of his wrath.
I hurry to my room and cram as much as I can into a suitcase before making a mad dash back down the stairs. I want to leave a note, but I don’t know what to say, so instead I grab a piece of parchment from my bag and write one word on it, before turning and leaving. I may be taking the coward's way out instead of facing up to what I’ve done, but I value my life too much to stick around and face the consequences. I have to go, really, I do, and hopefully Harry or Draco will see the note I left.
As I close the door behind me, I feel the tears start and the memories of a messy haired eleven year old befriending me in our first year. At that moment, I stare out into the street and mutter the one word I have found so hard to say, but left it on a piece of parchment instead.
‘Sorry.’
TBC
A/N: I would just like to say a huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story. I had no idea it would get so much interest. There are two more parts to come, so sit back and enjoy part 3 just now.
A very, very huge thanks and hugs to shadow_samurai for the wonderful beta work and ideas. You are a lifesaver, hun, love ya!
Part 3, Hermione’s POV
Sorry Seems To Be the Hardest Word
.
It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way. I can’t believe it backfired! All my time and effort went into ‘The Plan’ and it has blown up in my face. I’ve lost Draco, but also my closest friend in the world, Harry. How could I do that to him? Well it was easy, to start with. How was I to know that Draco would fall in love with him and vice versa? You’re probably wondering why I did it. Well, here’s my story.
I had always been closer to Harry than I was to Ron, even though I loved him. I miss Ron terribly, but I moved on. I still keep in touch with Ginny, and it was Ron’s wish to see his little sister and Harry settle down, get married, and have lots of little mini-Harrys running around. I promised, and I never break a promise. No one would have thought that someone like me would be so sly and manipulative, but there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there? After all, I was… I mean, I am, the smartest witch of our time. So I was told, anyway. Sorry, I’m rambling. It’s just hard to believe that I messed everything up. Maybe I should start somewhere near the beginning.
I had pleaded with Harry to let Draco move in with us. I knew they had become friends, and by the way Draco looked at Harry, I could tell there were deeper feelings there. I had to do something, anything, to keep the Slytherin Slut’s claws from digging into Harry.
I knew Harry wasn’t gay; he never had been. I mean, look at his past relationships. Yeah, they never worked out, but it was always girls he was interested in. So why the sudden change? I’ve no idea. Maybe he didn’t know what he wanted and he was still trying to determine which way he swung. I wasn’t convinced, of course. Harry always lusted over Ginny. He told me once that he couldn’t wait to pound her into the nearest mattress. I suggested the Room of Requirement, but he never got the chance. The war was upon us so quickly we didn’t have time for anything else.
But getting back to the reason I wanted Draco to move in. I thought, just for a moment, that if Draco made his feelings known, Harry would turn green and declare his undying love for Ginny, telling Draco that he was as straight as a ruler. Trust Harry to be the one doing the lusting. I was shocked beyond belief when he told me one evening over dinner. “Hermione,” he said, “um, er… I… I think I’m falling for Draco, in a big way. What am I going to do?”
What could I tell him, huh? I couldn’t very well say, ‘ Merlin, Harry, he’s an evil slimeball, don’t even think about it,’ could I? No, I had to bite my tongue and try my hardest to placate my best friend.
“Harry, I thought you loved Ginny? Don’t get me wrong, I will still love you, and I am happy for you, really, sweetie, but is this what you honestly want?” He nodded his reply and I knew then that my dearest Harry was indeed gay. Maybe that’s why his heterosexual relationships never worked. He said he didn’t feel that way for Ginny any more; she was more like a sister to him now. He had a point, I suppose, but it wasn’t helping the ‘Draco’ problem. So what did I do? I told him to go and speak to Draco and tell him, thinking Harry would be too nervous and shy to even think about pouring his heart out to his one-time enemy. How wrong I was.
Turns out Draco, ‘the mighty white bouncing ferret,’ had been acting strangely around Harry, and it was because his feelings for him had become so strong, he was afraid to be in the same room as Harry in case he said or did something to scare him off. I wish he had done, and then I wouldn’t have resorted to playing a dangerous game just to get my two friends to hook up. Ginny was always asking to come round so she could see Harry, and I had to keep letting her down gently with excuses that I knew she didn’t believe for a minute. “Sorry, Ginny, not tonight. Harry’s not home ’til late; he’s got an essay he needs to work on in the library.” The disappointment on her face made me want to cry.
The real reason I couldn’t invite her over was because whenever I arrived home, Harry and Draco were always curled up together on the couch, snogging, giggling, sometimes touching each other, or talking quietly. It made me want to gag. At least they didn’t shag each other in front of me. I would have been scarred for life seeing that. I had to do something, anything, to put a wedge between them.
The last thing I wanted to do was hurt Harry. I couldn’t care two hoots about Draco; he’d get over it. Maybe go back to one of his ex’s with his tail between his legs and leave Harry to pine. The plan was that if they split, Harry would of course be devastated, and then Ginny would come over to comfort him and tell him she loves him, and blah, blah, blah. But that’s not how it happened, unfortunately.
I spoke with a colleague at work, who was notorious for dumping men and moving straight onto the next, and asked him how I could make Harry see sense. He suggested drugging Draco with a Muggle drug called LSD, which he could get for me at short notice if I wanted some. I was a bit wary at first, until he told me what it did to the victim. Of course, there was a catch. The drug would only become more potent if it was mixed with the Imperius Curse. I shook my head at this. There was no way I was casting an Unforgivable on Draco. I wasn’t that evil, although it did sound like the answer to all my problems. He went on to tell me that I wouldn’t have to cast it; there was a potion of some sort that had the same effect as the Imperius, and it was available in Knockturn Alley.
After giving it a lot of thought, I decided to take up the offer. So with a bag full of drugs, enough to last for a month, I put my plan into action. That was two weeks ago, and everything was going swimmingly. Draco would obey my commands and we’d have sex wherever we found a hard surface, but more often than not, it was on the sofa, or in my bed. I may be a cold-hearted bitch, but I would never do the dirty deed with him in his bed. He did share it with Harry now, and that was just out of the question.
It was difficult sometimes; Draco was very submissive. He showed no emotion at all and I knew he wasn’t enjoying it. I felt like slapping him on the odd occasion. The good thing about this whole fiasco was that while I was riding him (because he would never let me spread my legs out underneath him), his mind was Harry-free. The drugs worked wonders.
I would ask him if he loved Harry and he would frown as though he was trying to remember who Harry was, and then say , ‘No, Hermione.’ That always brought a smile to my face. I was controlling him and it felt great to have so much power over someone who had nearly become a Death Eater. I bet you’re wondering why I had sex with someone I felt nothing for, aren’t you? Well let me just say that although I didn’t have feelings for Draco, I would have done anything to keep him away from Harry. Ron would have been so proud of me; well, not the shagging part, but the plan in general.
There had been two agonizing weeks of sexual intercourse with the Slytherin Ice Prince and still nothing productive had come from it. Until yesterday. I’d started undressing Draco and was just about to slip off his boxers when we heard Harry’s car pull into the drive. I panicked. Even though I wanted Harry to find out, I didn’t want him to catch us at it. I was hoping Draco would tell him instead. So I planted that thought into Draco’s head as we grabbed our clothes. I told him he was to tell Harry that I was in love with him - Draco, that is, not Harry, in case you’re wondering - and also to say that he was just experimenting, he wasn’t gay, and he didn’t love Harry.
I watched as Draco stared at me with a vacant expression before he bolted for the stairs and climbed them two at a time. I was crying, he was crying, and I think it was because we both knew how close we had come to being caught. Harry bounded into the house, grinning goofily, and I felt my heart plummet to the pit of my stomach. I knew then I had done so much damage to my dearest friend, and I felt sick at the thought. Harry was smitten with Draco; there was no denying it. They were meant to be together. Not Harry and Ginny; that one was dead and buried a few years ago, and I should never have poked my nose in.
Ginny would just have to get over Harry the way he had gotten over her. He’d moved on, so why couldn’t she? Ron was dead and it wasn’t as though he could hound me to play matchmaker anymore. I’m kicking myself now, wondering why I didn’t think about that weeks ago. I feel terrible, but I’m not sure if I regret what I’ve done. Yes, I’m sorry for hurting Harry, but he’ll get over it. People get through break ups all the time; it’s no big deal. It’s ironic, though, I feel bad and yet I feel like I can’t say sorry to either of them. It’s true what they: sorry seems to be the hardest word in the English vocabulary.
I heard Harry ask me what the matter was and I told him to speak to Draco. What I didn’t expect was to see him tearing down the stairs five minutes later, sobbing his heart out. Draco had obviously told him everything I had said to. Poor Harry! My heart was breaking for him. He ran out the house so fast he forgot to take his jacket. I waited to see if he’d come back for it as he hates being cold, but he didn’t. All I heard instead were the screeching of his car tyres on the gravel outside as he drove away. I began to panic then. He was in no fit state to drive; he could crash the car or anything. I had to see Draco and try to put things right.
I was just about to head up the stairs when Draco literally flew down them, face contorted in rage, and he pushed me rather forcefully against the banister. It was as uncomfortable as hell, and became even more so when he wrapped his hands around my neck and started to squeeze. I was gasping for breath when the chilling words left his mouth.
“What did you do to me, you evil bitch?” I couldn’t say anything with his hands gripping my neck so tightly. I opened and closed my mouth, trying so hard to take in as much air as possible, and fought desperately to wrench his hands free. He loosened his grip a little, but only to shake me, causing my head to come into contact with the wooden handrail. I winced in pain, but he just kept yelling at me. “TELL ME, TELL ME NOW OR SO HELP ME, I’LL FUCKIN’ STRANGLE YOU TO DEATH! WHAT DID YOU DO? TELL ME!” He was becoming frantic and I eventually managed to mumble out my confession.
I think it was the shock of being unknowingly drugged that caused his hands to fall by his side. I rubbed at my bruised neck and tried to say something, anything, but he was hearing none of it. He slapped my face so hard that I saw stars clouding my vision, and then I watched him as he grabbed Harry’s jacket and ran from the house.
I hope to God that Draco finds Harry, and I am praying that the latter hasn’t done anything stupid. I could never live with myself if I knew Harry had taken his life because I decided that Draco wasn’t a suitable partner for him. I should have realized that you can’t change someone’s sexuality. Harry and Draco were happy and I should have been happy for them. What have I done? I have to get out of here. There is no way I can stay now. I have an awful feeling that something terrible has happened. It’s been hours since Draco left and he still hasn’t returned.
I don’t know what to do. I feel numb and utterly ashamed. I also feel dirty, as in ‘whore’ dirty. I willingly set out to destroy a perfectly good, loving relationship, and destroyed the last close friendship I had at the same time. I’m no better than a Slytherin and my parents would be totally affronted. They love Harry, always saying how much of a gentleman he is, and they will be devastated when they find out that their intelligent, caring, happy-go-lucky daughter has done something so terrible. I may also have to resign from my position at work as well. God, I was only there on a trial basis while I completed my final exams. I worked so hard at college to get where I am today, but now it’s all gone down the pan. And all because of my bloody stupid idea of avenging Ron’s death by fulfilling a promise I made. What an idiot. I’m definitely not the brightest witch anymore.
I must get out of here. I don’t think I can look Harry in the eye if he ever returns. Something is telling me he may never come back, and I feel my throat constrict at that thought. I’ve more or less killed my best friend, if not physically, then emotionally. If Draco returns alone, I certainly don’t want to be here. He’ll kill me, I know he will. He was so angry earlier that I thought I had taken my last breath at that point. No, I don’t want to be the victim of his wrath.
I hurry to my room and cram as much as I can into a suitcase before making a mad dash back down the stairs. I want to leave a note, but I don’t know what to say, so instead I grab a piece of parchment from my bag and write one word on it, before turning and leaving. I may be taking the coward's way out instead of facing up to what I’ve done, but I value my life too much to stick around and face the consequences. I have to go, really, I do, and hopefully Harry or Draco will see the note I left.
As I close the door behind me, I feel the tears start and the memories of a messy haired eleven year old befriending me in our first year. At that moment, I stare out into the street and mutter the one word I have found so hard to say, but left it on a piece of parchment instead.
‘Sorry.’
TBC