A Business Affair

*


Harry breathed deeply as he soared around the stadium. This was where he went when he couldn't take life anymore. He'd been coming a lot more frequently in the past few months. He loved to fly around the vast emptiness. He loved the absolute stillness the stadium took on when devoid of all life.

Harry circled the entire stadium one last time before landing softly on the grass in the middle of the pitch. Above the stands, Harry could just see the tip-top of some tall trees that grew around the outside.

The stadium was set far out into the country, away from London. If a person walked out the front gates they would see rolling hills for miles. In back was a forest full of elm, maple, and birch trees. No Muggle lived within fifty miles of the place. It was perfect for Quidditch matches.

Harry touched down and dismounted his broom. He set it down carefully on the ground and sat down beside it. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he flopped onto his back, his hands cushioning his head.

He gazed up at the sky. Today, it was cloudy grey color. It hadn't rained yet, but it was promising to. To the west, even darker clouds loomed. Harry watched as the clouds gathered to form one giant mass above his head.

He wondered if that was how his marriage looked to an outsider, grey and muddled. He wondered if there was a break of sunshine anywhere in it. Was it possible to fix? All the fighting they had been doing lately seemed pointless. After all, it wasn't about anything. Either that, or it came back to those trust issues.

Harry didn't understand where Ginny got her suspicions. He'd never done anything to make her distrust him. He'd always been faithful to her; even during the war he'd never done anything with anyone else. He'd been waiting.

He thought that would mean something to her, but maybe it didn't. Maybe Ginny didn't care about that.

While Harry had been meditating on these thoughts, a sliver of sunshine had pushed through the clouds. Harry felt the warmth on his face and closed his eyes. It went away all too soon. Harry opened his eyes to see where it had gone.

He tilted his head backward to look and found himself looking at an upside down Draco Malfoy. Harry groaned. "What the fuck are you doing here, Malfoy? It's a Saturday for god's sake," he asked him, not really caring about the answer.

"I could ask you the same thing, Potter," Draco drawled, annoyed.

He'd just been looking for some peace. His house was too quiet, and the city was too loud. He'd figured that the Quidditch Pitch would be the perfect place. He was wrong. Then again, how could he have predicted that Potter would be here?

"And I wouldn't give you an answer," Harry answered sullenly, stubbornly refusing to get up. Malfoy wasn't going to make him leave.

"And you think I would?" Draco asked sarcastically. "You're more naive than even I thought, Potter."

"You think I'm naive?" Harry repeated in disbelief. He couldn't believe how many people assumed he was naive because he seemed so innocent. "I have seen and done more than you probably ever will in your sad little life," he said scathingly.

"What do you think I did as a Death Eater, Potter? Sat around and knitted?" Draco asked sarcastically.

"Are you proud of what you did?" Harry asked angrily. He couldn't believe he was actually bragging about being a Death Eater.

"Hell no, but that doesn't mean I don't have just as much experience as you do."

"Right, because you were a Death Eater-in-training since were like three."

"Do you really think I wanted to do that, Potter? Did you think I sat around when I was three and said, 'Gee, I want to know how to perform the Cruciatus Curse, but first, I want to know what it feels like!' Yeah, Potter, I just loved it," Draco said harshly. He was glaring at Harry now, wondering why on Earth he had to pick the team with Harry on it to buy.

"Well, you didn't have to become a Death Eater," Harry said with a gesture.

"Right, okay, sure, uh huh, yeah. I'd just tell my father that I didn't want to. He'd respect my wishes. Oh, wait, no, he wouldn't. I would have been dead before I even finished the sentence."

"You know what, Malfoy? I don't care, alright? I just don't care. It doesn't matter. So will you please go away!" Harry huffed angrily, wishing he would just leave.

"I have as much right to be here as you do, Potter. So I'm not leaving," Draco said, crossing his arms resolutely.

Harry let out a frustrated yell and pushed himself off the ground and turned around to face Malfoy. "You just love to kick me when I'm down, don't you, Malfoy? The farther I've fallen, the harder you kick. Isn't that right?" he asked angrily, glaring at Draco.

"It's not my fault you throw yourself headfirst into these holes. I use what I have to my advantage. You just always happen to present a lot of advantage," Draco drawled.

"I hate you, Malfoy. I always have and I always will," Harry growled.

"Oh, I'm so sad now. The Famous Harry Potter doesn't like me. I think I'm going to cry," Draco said in mock hurt.

"Do whatever the hell you want. Throw yourself off a building for all I care, just don't bother me anymore."

"I can't promise that, Potter. You are one highly entertaining idiot, and I fully intend to continue this."

Harry let out an angry noise and spun around on his heel, grabbing his broom and stomping back towards the changing rooms. Draco watched him go with a satisfied smirk. He'd won the battle, maybe not the war, but this was close enough.

***

"I hate him! I fucking HATE him!" Harry yelled. He was at the bar with Ron once more. Ron was sitting placidly, occasionally sipping his drink while listening to Harry rant about his latest run-in with Malfoy.

"Well, Harry, we always knew he was like that. He's an evil git. Even if he hadn't been a Death Eater, he would still be evil," Ron said when Harry stopped to take a breath.

"This is just the icing on the cake, isn't it?" Harry asked rhetorically. "He just wants to ruin my life as much as he possibly can!"

"Well, Harry, he hasn't exactly had the best life either," Ron said and Harry stared at him.

"Are you defending him?!" Harry exclaimed, staring wide eyed with his mouth hanging open.

"No!" Ron exclaimed. "I was just saying that his life isn't that great either."

"How would you know?!" Harry demanded.

"I-I don't," Ron said quickly, defending himself. "I just... you know, I hear things... from Hermione."

"Right, Hermione," Harry said suspiciously, eyeing his friend.

Ron blushed and quickly took a swig of his drink. "And anyway, he's evil, you said it," he continued once he'd set down his drink.

"Yeah," Harry agreed slowly, still eyeing Ron suspiciously.

"Yeah," Ron said, seeming to think the danger had passed. He smiled encouragingly at Harry.

"But why does he have to be evil to me?" Harry asked pressingly. "Aren't there other people he could be torturing? Why is so fixated on me?"

Harry sighed and shook his head. He didn't understand Draco's reasons for his constant berating and belittling. He didn't understand why he was the target and always had been.

"I don't know, mate," Ron said consolingly. "Maybe he'll get tired of it."

"He hasn't after thirteen years, but I guess there's always tomorrow," Harry said despairingly, pushing his coaster around the table.

***

Pansy sat on the front porch of her cozy house situated on the bank of the river. The water flowed softly here, lapping at the bank quietly. Pansy smiled and sipped her tea lazily. She enjoyed the silence and was very content with her current life.

She'd always known that the marriage wouldn't work. Unfortunately, her parents refused to listen to her and had forced her and Draco to marry. She had known divorce would be inevitable. She was surprised that they had even managed to make it three years.

After Hogwarts, Draco had disappeared. Pansy knew that he had left the country. She thought he might have spent some time in France, as when he returned his French had been nearly perfect. His father hadn't really bothered to look.

Lucius had died shortly before the war ended at the hands of other Death Eaters who claimed he had been passing information. Draco had managed to get away after the war, pledging back to the light side and having the Dark Mark removed from his arm.

Narcissa had gone into hiding from the remaining Death Eaters. Pansy and Draco rarely saw her. She only came to visit when she deemed it safe enough. Really, it was perfectly safe. All the remaining Death Eaters had been killed or captured.

She still refused to come out of hiding. After Lucius' death, she'd signed the Manor over to Draco. Draco had reappeared suddenly. Pansy had hoped that his long absence would discourage her parent's idea of them marrying, but it didn't.

They had been married three years ago at the age of twenty. They hadn't had much of a relationship for the first year, just basic tolerance. Eventually, they had formed a sort of friendship. Once Pansy's parents had moved away, they finally made the decision to divorce.

Pansy breathed in deeply, savoring the many fragrances that came with the country. She and Draco had decided to sell the Manor due to it's more than unsavory nature. Pansy had insisted on buying a home near a river.

As a child she'd always loved playing by the river side, until her parents told her that it wasn't respectable, that is. She enjoyed listening to the river in the mornings when everything else was still except for the birds chirping in the trees.

Pansy took another sip of her tea and leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. She opened them reluctantly a second later as she heard a loud popping noise to her right and sighed.

"Is that any way to greet your husband?" Draco drawled, stepping onto the porch and sitting down in the opposite chair.

Pansy sat up and set down her cup. "You know, the whole concept of divorce is that I don't have to see you everyday," she said, giving him a look.

"You know you love it," Draco said pompously with a smirk.

"Why are you here, Draco?" Pansy asked impatiently.

"Fine," Draco said in a clipped tone. "I've come because this is all your fault."

"What's all my fault?" Pansy asked, not understanding.

"You and Potter. You've put him in my head. I want you to take him out!" Draco said.

"What are you talking about?" Pansy asked again, confused.

"Potter, I can't get him out of my head. All I keep seeing is him and his stupid face, calling me a Death Eater. Now, this is all your fault, so make it stop!"

"I didn't do anything, Draco," Pansy said complacently.

"You did! You told me to look around!"

"And you saw him?" Pansy asked.

"Yes--no! Not that way. He's just plaguing my thoughts. He's always there. Why did I have to buy his team?!"

"I couldn't tell you," Pansy said smugly.

Draco noticed her tone and narrowed his eyes. "You're doing something, aren't you?" he asked suspiciously.

"No, I'm not doing anything," Pansy said seriously.

Draco huffed at her. "Right," he said skeptically. "Why did you have to tell me that?"

"You didn't have to listen."

"Well, I did, and now it's a problem! What am I going to do?!"

"Just ignore him if it's that big of a problem."

"Like it's so easy."


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A/N: please review :)