Chapter 4

335 15 0
                                    

Moving almost unseeingly, Draco didn't realise where they were heading until Harry was pushing a familiar door open to the sounds of noisy chatter and the clinking of mugs and glasses. The gust of hot air startled him, and he blinked, trying to clear his vision.

They were at the Leaky.

Draco shot Harry an accusatory look. "Why did you bring me here?"

Harry flushed but continued to guide Draco towards one of the booths, not breaking a step. "You looked like you could use a drink."

"If I let myself indulge, I'd never stop," Draco retorted, stubbornly digging in his heels. Social drinking over dinner was one thing; drinking to forget was a slippery slope he refused to let himself go down.

Harry stilled, then nudged at him with a gentle pressure. "So no drinks, then. Just a talk."

Unwillingly curious at Harry's new calm, Draco allowed himself to be herded into the booth at one of the quieter corners. The Harry he had known would have gotten agitated, and Draco himself would have responded in kind. As it was, the only thing that gave a clue to Harry's feelings was the slight, pleased smile playing about his lips. Harry ordered a Butterbeer for himself. Draco tried to look preoccupied examining the new menu.

The Leaky. He hadn't set foot in there since the war. Too many memories of sneaking out of Hogwarts to share a Butterbeer with Harry, feeling that light-headed rush as Harry smiled at him, wide and giddy, and the warmth of Harry's knee pressed up against his as they sat too closely at a table for two.

"Malfoy," Harry was saying, and he forced himself to focus. "It's been almost a week since I saw you. I was worried at first, but the Welcome Witch told me you were still going to work every day. Which means you've just been avoiding me." He took a deep breath. "I need to know -- did I do something wrong?"

"Depends on who you ask, doesn't it?" Draco said carelessly, proud that his voice didn't tremble. "Interesting what different perspectives people can have of the same event."

Confusion shot through Harry's eyes, but his voice remained steady. "I'm asking you."

"Then, Potter -- the answer is yes."

There was a brief interruption as the waiter plonked Harry's drink onto the table, momentarily distracting them. It gave Draco just enough time to turn away and shakily try to control his emotions again.

"So what is it?"

"What?"

"What is it that I'm supposed to have done?" Harry's tone was neither accusatory nor angry. Just neutral, waiting.

It made Draco want to hit something.

"Where should I start?" Draco began, trembling with anger. "Oh, maybe two years ago would be right, around the time you began this... farce. Was it fun for you? To see how quickly you could get me to open my mouth and suck your cock?" Harry looked alarmed and frightened at the accusation, and something dark curled through Draco at the sight. So now Perfect Potter could deny it no longer. But then that meant that Draco couldn't either.

He choked back a sob. "Did you laugh about it with all your friends afterward? How easy it was to get the Death Eater to spread his legs for you? I guess after that there was no need to keep in contact anymore, no need to bother replying my owls. Because your side got what it wanted, didn't it? It counted on me being" -- in love with -- "fooled by you, enough to do whatever it was you bloody wanted. To think I was so worried about you during the war -- "

'𝐓𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍Where stories live. Discover now