Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
6,410
Reviews:
41
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
6,410
Reviews:
41
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.
The Jetset Life is Gonna Kill You
**Gaze into her killing jar
I\'d sometimes stare for hours
She even poked the holes so I can breathe**
--
“What am I doing?”
Ginny shook her head violently, trying to shake the nervous-ness out. Hermione had managed to convince her (finally) that the only thing to do was TALK to Harry. Find out where he stands, and then decide to leave him. If she just managed to pack some things in the process, well then that just saves some time.
She took a deep breath before touching the door knob and pushing it open. What she saw almost made her scream. Her first thought was they had been robbed and ransacked. She saw a figure prone in the hallway, amongst old papers and empty bottles, and thought for sure Harry had suffered an attack. She forgot everything and rushed to his side, turning him over.
“Harry! Harry, wake up!”
Once she had him on his back, Ginny noticed his unkempt appearance and smelled the alcohol.
“Oh, Harry…”
She dropped him gently, and shook her head. She turned around, and took in the full sweep of the mess. She cast a quick scourgify, and called out to Kreacher.
“You called Madame?”
The elf had appeared so quietly, she hadn’t even heard it.
“Oh, Kreacher, would you start a hot bath upstairs for Harry? And something to sober him up, please.”
The elf was most grateful to finally have things approaching something like normal, once again. While Harry hadn’t done anything truly terrible to him, he liked the man much better when he wasn’t drunk.
“Would Madame like anything for herself? Some tea? A scone?”
“No, thank you Kreacher, just the bath and his medicine.”
She tried to lift him, but was aghast at just how much he seemed to weigh.
She gave him another sharp tug, and shrieked when he jerked and flailed.
“No, no, get off me, I don’t want you! I want Ginny! Ginny, why won’t you come back?!”
The anguished plea was enough to melt the anger still clinging to her insides.
“Oh, Harry… What have you done to yourself?”
She watched another few moments, until she could hear the water stop upstairs, and smelled the lavender she knew Kreacher used in an attempt to calm Harry. Rising to her feet she flicked her wand with a “Mobilicorpus”, and marched softly upstairs.
**
Harry woke up with a very thick head, lying against a very plush tower of pillows. He felt like he wanted to implode, and he wasn’t even at all sure where he was or how he had come to be there. He could only assume he was in his bed, but one can never be too sure. He suddenly realized he heard water being shut off, which reminded him that he had heard water running. He jumped when he saw a shock of ginger hair rounding the corner, and leapt up at once ignoring the pain in the sides of his head.
“Ginny?!”
“Harry, please, get back in the bed.”
“Ginny are you here? Are you…”
He didn’t think he could say it, so he didn’t. The mere thought of her saying she wasn’t there to stay, that she was leaving, was enough to drive him back downstairs for more alcohol.
“You are not hallucinating, Harry. I am standing before you wearing a pink terry bathrobe, drying my hair.”
She knew what he was actually asking, but didn’t want to give in too quickly. Officially she was just there to talk to him, and get some things. She simply indulged in a nice hot shower to relieve some tension and kill some time while he was still out.
“When did you get back?”
He had sat back down on the bed, refusing to recline. He wanted to talk, he wanted to get his side of the story out, he wanted to kiss her and touch her and make her happy again. He couldn’t stand to see her not happy.
“I’ve been here for about three hours. I found you downstairs.”
She quirked an eyebrow as if to relate what that meant; what she’d seen. Of course he instantly knew what she meant and a deep blush crept over his features. He was ashamed that he went so far as to drink himself into a drunken stupor. He had intended to stop at a mild buzz, but his pain just wouldn’t go away.
“Ginny, I-“
“Harry…”
She hesitated. She toyed with what she was about to say, but realized it was true.
“I understand. I disapprove. Strongly… But I understand,” she finished softly.
Harry looked numbly back at her. She was now sitting on the bed next to him, and he wanted to reach out and touch her, just touch her; prove to himself that she was actually there, but he was afraid of her turning away. He imagined the look of revulsion on her features, and he cringed. He was surprised when he felt her light touch on his shoulder.
“Harry, I’m disappointed. But I’m not going to ask you to explain yourself.”
“Ginn-“
“No. Harry, I saw you. You drank yourself almost to death. You can’t have liked what you’ve done. I can see what it’s done to you. I don’t want to hear what you did. I don’t want to hear why you did it. I just want to hold you. I want to make you better.”
Harry was stunned at these words. She had gotten it all wrong. All of his actions after she left were as a result of her leaving. Never once did he regret his exploits with Draco except that it had hurt her.
But he wasn’t about to say that to her.
He looked deep into her eyes, not believing his luck, thinking for sure she was just playing with him; testing to see how he truly felt. He searched and searched and saw nothing but pity and love. He tentatively reached out and cupped her face gently. She smiled and leaned into it almost graciously. He leaned forward slowly, ready at any moment for her to rebuff his advances. When she didn’t, he pressed his lips to hers and breathed in deeply, savouring the delighted sensation; the blend of scent and taste that was different for everyone, and just perfect on her.
His eyes fluttered open, and again locked onto her gaze. Her eyes were slightly glazed, and her lips were parted, breath coming in soft pants. He took this as a cue that he was welcome, and pressed a neat perfect kiss, softly on her lips, and leaned forward to push her backward. She gave in seamlessly and he crawled over her, settling on her hips. He leaned down to her neck, nipping softly at spots, culling responses. He laved her earlobe, blowing wet heat into the shell. Her breath hitched, and he whispered delicately, “I’ll never do it again.”
She shuddered a choked sob, which he deftly subdued by cajolingly sliding his tongue against hers.
--
**She bought the last line
I\'m just the worst kind
Of guy to argue
With what you might find
And for the last night I lie
Could I lie with you?**
I\'d sometimes stare for hours
She even poked the holes so I can breathe**
--
“What am I doing?”
Ginny shook her head violently, trying to shake the nervous-ness out. Hermione had managed to convince her (finally) that the only thing to do was TALK to Harry. Find out where he stands, and then decide to leave him. If she just managed to pack some things in the process, well then that just saves some time.
She took a deep breath before touching the door knob and pushing it open. What she saw almost made her scream. Her first thought was they had been robbed and ransacked. She saw a figure prone in the hallway, amongst old papers and empty bottles, and thought for sure Harry had suffered an attack. She forgot everything and rushed to his side, turning him over.
“Harry! Harry, wake up!”
Once she had him on his back, Ginny noticed his unkempt appearance and smelled the alcohol.
“Oh, Harry…”
She dropped him gently, and shook her head. She turned around, and took in the full sweep of the mess. She cast a quick scourgify, and called out to Kreacher.
“You called Madame?”
The elf had appeared so quietly, she hadn’t even heard it.
“Oh, Kreacher, would you start a hot bath upstairs for Harry? And something to sober him up, please.”
The elf was most grateful to finally have things approaching something like normal, once again. While Harry hadn’t done anything truly terrible to him, he liked the man much better when he wasn’t drunk.
“Would Madame like anything for herself? Some tea? A scone?”
“No, thank you Kreacher, just the bath and his medicine.”
She tried to lift him, but was aghast at just how much he seemed to weigh.
She gave him another sharp tug, and shrieked when he jerked and flailed.
“No, no, get off me, I don’t want you! I want Ginny! Ginny, why won’t you come back?!”
The anguished plea was enough to melt the anger still clinging to her insides.
“Oh, Harry… What have you done to yourself?”
She watched another few moments, until she could hear the water stop upstairs, and smelled the lavender she knew Kreacher used in an attempt to calm Harry. Rising to her feet she flicked her wand with a “Mobilicorpus”, and marched softly upstairs.
**
Harry woke up with a very thick head, lying against a very plush tower of pillows. He felt like he wanted to implode, and he wasn’t even at all sure where he was or how he had come to be there. He could only assume he was in his bed, but one can never be too sure. He suddenly realized he heard water being shut off, which reminded him that he had heard water running. He jumped when he saw a shock of ginger hair rounding the corner, and leapt up at once ignoring the pain in the sides of his head.
“Ginny?!”
“Harry, please, get back in the bed.”
“Ginny are you here? Are you…”
He didn’t think he could say it, so he didn’t. The mere thought of her saying she wasn’t there to stay, that she was leaving, was enough to drive him back downstairs for more alcohol.
“You are not hallucinating, Harry. I am standing before you wearing a pink terry bathrobe, drying my hair.”
She knew what he was actually asking, but didn’t want to give in too quickly. Officially she was just there to talk to him, and get some things. She simply indulged in a nice hot shower to relieve some tension and kill some time while he was still out.
“When did you get back?”
He had sat back down on the bed, refusing to recline. He wanted to talk, he wanted to get his side of the story out, he wanted to kiss her and touch her and make her happy again. He couldn’t stand to see her not happy.
“I’ve been here for about three hours. I found you downstairs.”
She quirked an eyebrow as if to relate what that meant; what she’d seen. Of course he instantly knew what she meant and a deep blush crept over his features. He was ashamed that he went so far as to drink himself into a drunken stupor. He had intended to stop at a mild buzz, but his pain just wouldn’t go away.
“Ginny, I-“
“Harry…”
She hesitated. She toyed with what she was about to say, but realized it was true.
“I understand. I disapprove. Strongly… But I understand,” she finished softly.
Harry looked numbly back at her. She was now sitting on the bed next to him, and he wanted to reach out and touch her, just touch her; prove to himself that she was actually there, but he was afraid of her turning away. He imagined the look of revulsion on her features, and he cringed. He was surprised when he felt her light touch on his shoulder.
“Harry, I’m disappointed. But I’m not going to ask you to explain yourself.”
“Ginn-“
“No. Harry, I saw you. You drank yourself almost to death. You can’t have liked what you’ve done. I can see what it’s done to you. I don’t want to hear what you did. I don’t want to hear why you did it. I just want to hold you. I want to make you better.”
Harry was stunned at these words. She had gotten it all wrong. All of his actions after she left were as a result of her leaving. Never once did he regret his exploits with Draco except that it had hurt her.
But he wasn’t about to say that to her.
He looked deep into her eyes, not believing his luck, thinking for sure she was just playing with him; testing to see how he truly felt. He searched and searched and saw nothing but pity and love. He tentatively reached out and cupped her face gently. She smiled and leaned into it almost graciously. He leaned forward slowly, ready at any moment for her to rebuff his advances. When she didn’t, he pressed his lips to hers and breathed in deeply, savouring the delighted sensation; the blend of scent and taste that was different for everyone, and just perfect on her.
His eyes fluttered open, and again locked onto her gaze. Her eyes were slightly glazed, and her lips were parted, breath coming in soft pants. He took this as a cue that he was welcome, and pressed a neat perfect kiss, softly on her lips, and leaned forward to push her backward. She gave in seamlessly and he crawled over her, settling on her hips. He leaned down to her neck, nipping softly at spots, culling responses. He laved her earlobe, blowing wet heat into the shell. Her breath hitched, and he whispered delicately, “I’ll never do it again.”
She shuddered a choked sob, which he deftly subdued by cajolingly sliding his tongue against hers.
--
**She bought the last line
I\'m just the worst kind
Of guy to argue
With what you might find
And for the last night I lie
Could I lie with you?**