Paper Faces on Parade

Section 5:

With a pop, Draco appeared in the entryway of Harry Potter’s flat, ready to get an answer out of The Boy Who Lived, or throttle him in the attempt.

“Potter!” Draco yelled as soon as he arrived. “You’d damn well better have an explanation for this!”

“We’re all in here, Malfoy,” the familiar voice of Ronald Weasley announced from the direction of the parlour. “Might as well join us.” And *all* in there they certainly were. In addition to Potter and Weasley, there was Luna Lovegood, firmly attached to Ron’s side as always, Ginny Longbottom, hand in hand with her husband, and Remus Lupin and his fiancé who, in spite of the fact that her name would soon be Lupin, still insisted on being called Tonks.

“Well, well, well,” Draco said snidely. “The gang’s all here, aren’t they, Potter? Needed people to rally round and tell you that you’re wonderful even though you’ve fucked up the best thing in your life?”

“Malfoy, you can’t just barge in here and—” Ron began, rising to his feet.

“And what?” Draco cut in. “Tell him the truth? Fuck you, Weasley. I’ve never lied to you *or* Potter before and I’m sure as hell not going to start now.” He turned back to Harry, showing absolutely no sympathy for the wizard’s dejected appearance. “You screwed up, Potter,” he stated flatly and unsympathetically. “If you’re in pain now because of it, then it’s your own damn fault. I’m not going to sugar-coat it or tell you that you’re not to blame. What I *am* going to do is ask for an explanation, as you sure as hell had better have a good one.”

“I don’t,” Harry said quietly without looking up. He was seated in a chair in the far corner of the room, with his head in his hands and his posture slumped over. His normally wild hair hung limply, as if it didn’t have the energy to be messy and his clothes were rumpled, as if he had slept in them. He looked the perfect picture of despair. Draco was unimpressed, and merely continued to stand there, his lips pressed into a thin line as he waited for Harry to continue.

He didn’t. Draco’s lips compressed further and further as his hands clenched into fists while he waited for an explanation that was obviously not forthcoming. Harry was too wrapped up in his own feelings to notice Draco’s but the rest of the room was all too aware of what was going on. They had seen what happened when Draco lost his temper before, and they had no desire to see it happen again.

With a sigh, Tonks rose to her feet. She really didn’t want to be the messenger on this one, but it was well known that of their group that had worked so closely together during the war, she was the best at talking Draco down when his temper was up. Well, second best, really. Hermione was best.

“Here’s what Harry has told us so far,” she stated, placing a hand on Draco’s shoulder and leading him to the couch to sit down. Draco followed, seating himself beside her. “Harry got an owl from Hermione last night with her engagement ring and a note telling him that it was over. She must have gone straight to Rita Skeeter’s after sending the owl, because Harry came straight home when it got it, and she was already gone. Rita claims she doesn’t know where Hermione went, and Harry’s pretty sure she’s telling the truth. No one else has heard from her.”

“What the hell did you do to her?” Draco hissed out in Harry’s direction. Harry’s shoulders slumped even further and something clicked for Draco. It hadn’t been a fight, obviously. Harry hadn’t even been home when it happened. The only thing that Harry could have done away from her that would have made Hermione angry enough to leave him was…

“You bastard!” he spat out, his hands shaking with the effort it took to keep from hauling off and punching him. “You were cheating on her, weren’t you?”

Harry didn’t respond right away, but after several long moments, he nodded. Several of the others in the room gasped. Several… but not all of them.

Draco turned on the rest of them with his eyes blazing, making them all flinch. “And which of you already knew this?”

Tentatively, Ron raised his hand, followed by a reluctant Ginny and a serene Luna.

“You knew,” Draco said in a low, eerily calm voice that made them even more nervous. “You knew and you did *nothing* about it?” No one said anything. “Weasley!” Draco barked, making Ron jump visibly. “Hermione might have been too kind to hex you herself for your part in this, but I think we both know that *I* am not that kind. You have twenty seconds to start explaining what happened, from the beginning, before I start throwing the hexes Hermione *should* be here to throw for herself. Begin.”

“I-it started about, um, two months ago?” Ron stammered, looking to Harry for confirmation. Harry nodded, but did not look up or speak. “Harry and I were at a Cannons match. I went to get some concessions, and when I came back, I found that they had run into each other and started chatting.”

“Who is she?” Draco forced out through clenched teeth.

“Cho Chang,” Harry answered, looking up at last.

Draco’s jaw grew that much tighter, and tic developed in one of his jaw muscles, but he nodded his head as if to urge Harry to go on. Ron, incredibly relieved that Harry was taking up the narrative and taking the focus of Draco’s attention, collapsed back against the couch and huddled up to Luna, trying hard not to draw any notice.

“I hadn’t seen her since she left Hogwarts,” Harry continued. “She had been in China through most of the war. She had an uncle with a large business there who convinced her that it was best not to be in England until things calmed down. But now she was back, and ‘looking forward to looking up old friends,’ she said. I could tell she was interested in me. It was… flattering, I guess. In school, I was always the one pursuing her. I never thought I’d see the day when she would pursue me.”

“But she did pursue you,” Draco replied, his tone of voice making it more a statement than a question. “She kept finding excuses to run into you, at times and places when Hermione wasn’t around. And you kept finding it… flattering.”

Harry nodded, embarrassment mixing with the misery on his face.

“I take it you never told Hermione about running into her?”

“No,” Harry agreed. “I… well… Hermione never thought very highly of Cho in school, and I figured maybe it was best if she didn’t know. After all, it might upset her…”

“It *would* have upset her, because she was jealous of Cho in school; jealous of your attraction to her; and with good reason,” Draco interjected crispy. “And don’t attempt to lie to me or to yourself. You didn’t tell Hermione because you knew she wouldn’t want you to see Cho, even if it was purely platonic at that point, and you didn’t want to give up the ego boost of having her pursue you.”

“I…” Harry started, but didn’t finish. There was no way for him to contradict Draco’s statements; they were, after all, perfectly true; so instead he simply kept going. “Like you said, it was perfectly platonic at that point, but then about a month ago—”

“Was this before or after you proposed to Hermione?”

“After. Only a day or two after, in fact. The first thing she said to me was congratulations on my engagement, and that she always suspected that Hermione would get me in the end. Then she… she suggested going back to her place for a drink, to celebrate the engagement. She said that I probably wouldn’t have much time anymore for old friends, now that I was an engaged man, and that this might be her last chance to spend some time with me before Hermione had me… ‘properly tied up with the ring to prove it,’ I think was how she put it.”

“And you *accepted*?” Tonks asked, her voice sounding more than a bit disgusted. Harry flinched and seemed to shrink a bit more into himself. Remus had slipped neatly into the role of father figure in Harry’s life, and both Remus’ friendship and Tonks’ were very important to Harry. Harry was supposed to be best man in their upcoming wedding. Hermione was supposed to be maid of honor. Flashing a glance over at them, he saw that Tonks looked a bit ill, like she had seen something that turned her stomach, while Remus just looked so disappointed.

“Yes,” Harry replied, very, very quietly. “I did.”

“That was the first time you had sex with her?” Draco asked bluntly.

Harry nodded. “I told myself it was a one time thing, but then a few days later, we ‘accidentally ran into each other’ again. It was at a pub. I wanted a drink after work; it had been a long day. She asked me if I was interested in taking that drink upstairs with her. I said no, but she said… she said, ‘what’s the harm? It’s just a drink between friends. It’s not like anyone will ever know.’ And then, when I came downstairs after it was… over, I saw Ron and Ginny come into the pub.”

Draco turned his attention to Ron and raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. Ron gulped nervously when he saw Draco return his focus to him, beganegan a very rapid explanation once Draco’s hand started to slip toward the sheath where Ron knew he kept his wand.

“Gin had just gotten back from her honeymoon, and I was taking her out to dinner as a sort of welcome-home. We saw Harry come downstairs to order two dinners sent up to the room. He looked… well…” Ron was obviously hesitant to use the phrase ‘well-shagged’ given the look in Draco’s eye, even though it clearly was the only term he could think of that applied. Draco rolled his eyes and gestured for Ron to continue. “We thought he had been upstairs with Hermione so we went up to play a joke on them by pretending to be the room service, delivering the food. When they said come in, we saw who he was with, and it wasn’t too hard to figure out what had been going on. We left in a hurry and went straight back to my flat, where I told Luna what we had seen. We hadn’t been there long when Harry came by.”

“And what did he want?” Draco prompted when Ron paused.

“He asked us not to tell Hermione. He said that it was just a fling, that it didn’t mean anything, that he was just flattered to have Cho Chang pursuing him, but that he was ending it, *definitely* ending it, and it wouldn’t happen again. Then he…”

“Well?” Draco pressed.

“He said that if Hermione asked where he had been that night, we should say that he had been with us. He swore that it was just that once and that he wouldn’t ask me to cover for him again. He’s my best mate,” Ron concluded pleadingly. “I wasn’t going to say no.”

“And was it just that once?”

“No,” Ron admitted, sounding defeated. “There were a few more times when he’d owl or floo me to ask me to cover for him ifmionmione was looking for him, but it never ended up being necessary. I guess she just always believed him when he said that he’d be with me. She never thought to check up on him.”

“Alright,” Draco stated, sounding dangerously calm. “Now Potter, tell me what happened last night.”

“I told Hermione that I had an assignment out somewhere in Germany, and that I’d be back in a day or so. Then I apparated to a hotel to meet Cho. Hermione seemed normal when I said goodbye; she didn’t seem like she suspected anything; but then a few hours later, her owl showed up at the hotel, carrying a pouch for me.”

“What was in the pouch?”

Harry gestured wordlessly to the dining room table. Stepping over, Draco spotted the ring, the note, and the pensieve, unminiaturized so it was once again full-sized and functional. Dipping into it briefly, he stayed only long enough to see the look on Hermione’s face as she watched Potter and Chang rutting on the cheap mattress. Pulling out of the memory, he took a few deep breaths to keep himself from hexing Potter into bits, then surreptitiously lifted Hermione note to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss on it before returning it to the table. As always, the thought of Hermione kept him strong and prevented him from doing anything stupid. Hexing Potter wasn’t important; the only thing that mattered was finding Hermione.

“I’ve seen and heard enough,” Draco stated abruptly. “I should go.”

“That’s it?” Harry asked, obviously surprised. “Aren’t you… going to ask me if I’m in love with her?”

Draco looked genuinely surprised at the question. “Why should I? I don’t care,” he answered. “Your feelings are of no concern to me, Potter. They never have been. All I cared about was how you treated Hermione. If you *are* in love with Chang, then it was horribly unfair not to end things with Hermione, and to let her believe that everything was alright. If you *aren’t* in love with Chang, then you have absolutely no excuse for the way that you behaved. Either way, Hermione’s hurting, and it’s your fault. Why should I care about your feelings on the matter?”

“I’ll make it up to her,” Harry promised. “As soon as I find her, I swear I’ll do anything and everything to make it up to her.”

“No,” Draco replied calmly, rising to his feet. “You won’t. Because I won’t let you. I don’t know where she is, but I’m going to find her, and once I do, I’m not letting you anywhere near her until her feelings for you are nothing but a distant memory. I give you my word on that. She may be generous enough to give you her friendship again someday, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let her squander her love and break her heart over the likes of you ever again.”

With that, Draco exited the apartment, causing everyone in the room (with the exception of Harry, who was still frozen in shock over Draco’s statements) to slump slightly with relief at how non-violently the encounter had gone.

“Thank Merlin that’s over with,” Ginny muttered, slipping her arm through her husband’s. She frowned when he deliberately pulled away from her, giving her a look of mingled sadness and disappointment.

“I can’t believe you knew and didn’t tell me, or Hermione,” he stated sadly.

Ginny bit her lip, instantly growing defensive, mostly because she knew that Neville was right. Hermione was her friend, even more so than Harry, and she deserved better than she had been given. “I thought I was doing the right thing!” she protested. “Hermione was happy with Harry. I didn’t want to mess that up just because of some fling that was nearly over anyway. That’s why all *three* of us didn’t say anything, right?” Ginny asked, looking to her brother and Luna for support. Ron nodded fervently, but Luna simply shook her head.

“I didn’t tell her because she needed to find out for herself,” Luna stated. “If we told her, she and Harry would just have had a big row, and then she would have forgiven him. It’s better this way. Now Malfoy can have his chance.”

“Chance?” Ron repeated, bewildered. “Chance for what?”

“Chance for Hermione,” Luna replied calmly. “He’s been in love with her for years. Once he finds her, I think he’ll make her very happy.”

“No!” Harry protested loudly. “Hermione would never do that. She’d never… she loves *me*, not Malfoy.”

“You had your chance, Harry,” Luna reminded him. “And you messed it up. It’s Malfoy’s turn now.”

“Do you honestly think that *Malfoy* can love Hermione better than I can?” Harry protested, more than a little petulantly.

“Oh yes,” Luna said dreamily, “I’m sure he can. And I’m sure he will.”

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