Unintended Consequences

Unintended Consequences



Chapter 7



“That’s it!” Harry cried after the twins had finally departed. “I have had enough! Enough crazy brides. Enough overbearing families. Enough paparazzi. Enough bloody stupid rumours. Enough… interruptions!” Pulling his wand out of his sleeve, Harry strode out of the library. “I’ll be back soon,” he called out to Draco as he disappeared through the door.



Draco stood for a minute and just blinked. What had just happened? God. This weekend was becoming more and more surreal. Draco suddenly felt like he had dreamt it all—the chapel, the bonding, the wonderful wedding night, Harry here at the Manor with him—surely it was all a dream. Or rather, a terrible nightmare. Only in nightmares did the world conspire against you to sabotage the one thing in your life you ever really wanted. All he wanted was Harry, to be with Harry in every way possible, to share their lives forever—and now Harry was gone.



Draco sat on the edge of the couch and frowned as he tried to piece together the recent events in a way that made sense. But any way he looked at it, Draco could not imagine one reason why Harry would want to stay with him. Life had been a veritable nightmare from the moment he had landed on Harry in the chapel. Oh, he had seemed to like the sex, all right, but that’s all it was, of course. Just sex. A way to get out of bonding with Ginny, with a bit of slap and tickle thrown in. It hadn’t meant anything—to Harry at least. How could it? Harry was just looking for a way out.



Draco put his head in his hands and sighed deeply. This was possibly the worst day of his life. To almost have your dreams come true and then to have them snatched away at the very last minute—surely that was a form of torture no one should have to endure. And he was damned sure he wouldn’t. No. To hell with it all. If Harry didn’t want him, well, good luck to him. Draco had bigger fish to fry.



Resolving to get completely plastered for the second day in a row, Draco strode over to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of the best malted whiskey he could find. Eschewing a glass, he flopped down onto the couch and lifted the bottle to his lips. As the liquid burned down his throat, he felt it wash away some of the overwhelming emotional pain that tugged at his chest. Oh, that felt good. A second swig and his heart began to feel numb around the edges. Lifting the bottle in the air, he toasted no one in particular. “Here’s to finding the love of your life,” he whispered before downing another mouthful. “And here’s to letting go of him forever.” He sighed as he leaned back against the couch and settled into the cushions. Ah, yes. This was familiar.



Toeing off his shoes, he lifted his feet up to rest on one end of the couch, leaning back even further until he was snuggled amongst the cushions at the other end, the whiskey bottle balanced on his stomach. At this angle, all he had to do was lift his arm a little and pour the whiskey directly into his mouth, which he proceeded to do at regular intervals for the next hour. He felt himself mellow slowly, the welcome numbness creeping gently over his heart and mind until everything began to take on a rosy glow. Mmmm. There was something about drowning one’s sorrows that was extremely satisfying. The world seemed so much more cosy and warm, like the feeling of that lovely amber liquid trickling down into his chest to warm his soul. As he lay there he could feel the warmth spread out and slowly engulf him in velvet folds, surrounding him in a cocoon of misty clouds. He was floating… floating, and he knew this was where he belonged… just he and the clouds, and the velvety warmth, floating, floating, into blessed oblivion.



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Harry wasted no time in Apparating from the foyer of Malfoy Manor to the main entry hall of the Daily Prophet. Striding up to the reception desk, he pulled himself up to his full height and curtly addressed the woman behind it. “I’m looking for Rita Skeeter.”



The woman didn’t look up from filing her nails. “Do you have an appointment?”



“No. But I want to see her now.”



“I’m sorry sir, but Ms. Skeeter has a busy schedule—” She stopped with a squeak when Harry leaned over the desk and grabbed her nail file.



“Oh, Mr. Potter!” She said as she looked up. “Oh, dear. Of course. Of, er, course. I’ll call Ms. Skeeter right away.” She went to pick up the phone, but Harry put his hand over hers before she could lift it.



“And let her get away? I don’t think so. Tell me what floor she’s on.” Harry glared at the poor woman menacingly. “Or I’ll tell your boss you’ve been swiping stationary.” It was a random guess but it paid off. The woman squeaked again, her eyes wide.



“Fourth floor. Room four-oh-eight.”



Harry strode off to the elevators and quickly made his way to the fourth floor. Room 408 was down the hall on the left and as Harry approached it he drew his wand. The door was open, so he moved forward to stand in the doorway, his wand, for the moment, at his side.



“So. Not content with bad-mouthing me?” She looked up from her desk, quickly hiding her shock at seeing Harry in her doorway. “You have to go and defame my husband, as well.” Harry calmly walked towards the desk began flicking his wand into his other hand.



“Now, Mr. Potter, It’s all about circulation, as I am sure you well know. And our source was your very own ex-fiancée. Are we to blame if the information we receive is… unreliable?”



“So, you knew it was a load of rubbish.” Her face confirmed his suspicions, as he knew it would. “I want you to print a retraction.”



Rita laughed at that, shaking her head incredulously. “Now, Mr. Potter, why on earth would I do that? Sex sells, you see.”



“Because of a bug in a jar—six years ago.” He leaned across the desk and steadily held her gaze. “I’m sure you haven’t forgotten your little bargain with Hermione?”



All the colour drained from her face and she looked like she was about to pass out. “Thought I’d forgotten, Ms. Skeeter?” Harry growled at her and she clutched her hands to her chest in fear. Hermione had discovered she was an unregistered Animagus in their fourth year and had threatened to expose her if she continued to report Harry in a bad light.



“Oh, er, well, of course I’d be happy to accommodate your request, Mr. Potter,” she stammered, picking up her quill and a piece of parchment. “So, we shall retract the allegations of the, er, gay sex ring? Not a problem, Mr. Potter.” She began scribbling notes on the parchment. ‘Consider it done.”



Harry slammed his fist on the desk in front of her and she jumped. “Not enough! I want Draco’s name cleared, do you hear me?”



“Y-yes, Mr. Potter. Of course. Why don’t you sit down and we’ll discuss the terms of the retraction.” She nervously indicated the chair in front of her desk and Harry pulled it out gruffly and dropped into it.



“Fine. Here’s what I want you to say.”



When Harry finally made it back to the Manor it was well after six. He’d been gone most of the afternoon, but he was quite happy with the results of his excursion. Carefully clutching the paper under his arm, he Apparated into the foyer of the Manor—Draco had earlier adjusted the wards to allow him access—and strode towards the library, looking for his husband.



When he walked into the room, it was dark save for a lone candle on the mantle piece. He frowned as he looked around, thinking perhaps Draco had gone up to his suite for a bath before dinner. Turning to go back out through the door, he stopped suddenly when he spied the mound of a body swathed in blankets on the couch. He smiled when he saw the tuft of blond hair poking out of the top of the velvety covers. Draco must be taking a nap. He quietly moved over to the couch and sat down on its edge, gently pulling back the covers from his husband’s face.



Draco looked so peaceful, his lashes resting on his cheeks and his hair in disarray. Harry chuckled as he thought how mortified Draco would be if he knew his hair was looking so out of place. Oh, but he was gorgeous, lying there so peacefully, and Harry was loathe to wake him.



Harry sat there for a long time, watching the other man’s chest rise and fall with the regular rhythm of his breathing. He leaned over and kissed Draco lightly on the temple, before sitting back and rubbing his fingers gently over his cheek. Draco was everything he ever wanted and he hoped that once everything was set to rights, Draco would accept him as his life-partner. In spite of the accidental nature of their bonding, Harry had the feeling that Draco and he had a connection that went beyond the superficial. As the other man began to stir, Harry leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips. His eyes fluttered open and Harry gave him a beatific smile.



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Draco drifted slowly into wakefulness to the feel of soft kisses against his cheek and lips. Mmmm. He must still be dreaming, he thought. He’d dreamt of lying with Harry in his big four poster bed, cuddling under the covers on a cold winter’s morning, a cosy fire burning in the grate. As he hovered on the edge of sleep he snuggled under the blankets, not wanting to wake up from his lovely dream just yet. Good old Naesy, he thought to himself. She must have covered him after he’d fallen asleep. He must remember to thank her later. But for now, more delicious snoozing was in order.



Pulling the blankets up further, he stretched his legs out languidly along the couch, and bumped against something solid. Opening his eyes slowly, he peeked out from under the covers to see green eyes gazing affectionately down at him.



“Hello, beautiful. Did you enjoy your sleep?” Harry ran his hand warmly over Draco’s chest through the blankets.



“Harry?” Draco blinked blearily and gazed up through his lashes at the man hovering over him. Harry leant over and brushed his lips against Draco’s and Draco thought he might still be dreaming. Harry was here? Kissing him? A nice dream, surely, but his Harry had gone and probably was never coming back. At that thought, Draco’s closed his eyes again and sighed.



“Sweetheart? I have a surprise for you.”



Now that really did sound like Harry. His dreams were becoming more realistic by the minute. Again he felt the flutter of lips against his and he reached up in his dream to wrap his arms around a broad back, drawing his dream Harry down onto him and snuggling into his warmth. Suddenly the blankets were pulled aside and a warm body moved in beside him, strong hands running up his chest, lips pressing against his neck. Harry. Mmmm. The feel of those lips against his throat was exquisite and he felt as if he could lie there like this forever. With Harry. Then a warm hand was moving under his shirt and caressing his chest and those lips were on his again and he was in heaven. The lips moved against his seductively and he parted his own to taste more fully the soft plumpness of Harry’s mouth.



Then the lips were pulling back and Draco wished they would stay.



“Draco? Are you awake?” The lips were back, but raining kisses across his cheek and eyes. “Draco?” Someone was calling him and he drifted out of sleep again, opening his eyes to those gorgeous green ones. “Draco, wake up, love.” Wake up, love. Mmmm.



Blinking slowly, he came fully to himself and when he focussed he realised it really was Harry lying beside him, gazing down at him in amusement.



“Wake up, love. I’ve got something to show you.”



“Harry?” Draco moved the covers back and frowned slightly. “Where did you go? I thought… I….” But Harry was kissing him again and he knew it wasn’t a dream after all.



Harry sat up, pulling Draco with him. “Come on, sleepy head.” Draco let himself be pulled into a sitting position and rubbed his eyes to get the sleep out of them. His head was a little fuzzy, but he was none the worse for wear. When he was fully awake and sitting up, Harry got up and moved to where his coat was lying across the arm of a chair, returning shortly with something which he dropped into Draco’s lap. It was the evening edition of the Daily Prophet. Draco opened it with some trepidation, wondering what rumours they were printing about him now. He blinked when he saw the headline.



HARRY POTTER TO QUIT MINISTRY

ALLEGATIONS OVERTURNED



It was revealed today that the allegations of a certain gay sex ring reported in this morning’s edition were unfounded. In a shock move earlier today, the Prophet’s star reporter, Ms. Rita Skeeter, apologised to Mr. Potter and resigned her position. The allegations, which were originally brought to light by Mr. Potter’s ex-fiancée, were apparently vexatious. Mr. Malfoy was cleared of all charges by the Ministry and will receive a formal letter of apology from the Minister himself. Mr. Potter, who is the Ministry’s most decorated Auror, has resigned from his position with the Ministry, reporting that he intends to spend more time with his new spouse. Ms. Skeeter and the Daily Prophet also offer their sincere apologies for their role in the recent defamation of both Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter. Mr Potter’s ex-fiancée, Ms. Ginny Weasley, declined to comment.



ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo





Draco looked at Harry, his eyes wide. “You-you’re quitting?”



“Yes, I’m quitting.” Harry smiled at him uncertainly then. “I, er, want to devote all my time to you. To us. If you’ll have me, that is.”



Draco blinked and frowned, not quite sure whether he was hearing right. Us? There was an ‘Us’? And Harry wanted to spend more time with him? He looked down at the paper again, not sure if it was all real or if, in fact, he was still asleep and just dreaming it all. But there it was, in black and white for the world to see. Looking up again, Draco’s heart melted at the sheer adoration on Harry’s face.



“Well, Mr. Potter, I think we can arrange something.” Draco smirked as he leaned forward to kiss his spouse on the lips.



“That would be Mr. Potter-Malfoy,” Harry replied with a grin.