Corben was just taking his keys out from his pocket when he noticed that the door to his appartment was unlocked. With a sigh, he pushed open the door and stormed into the living room, where, as expected, sat Blaise. Settled calmly on the sofa and reading the book he had left on his table in the morning.
He dropped the keys on the table with a loud clatter, glaring at his brother. "I need to sit down and talk to both of you one day. About respecting my privacy."
Blaise set aside the book and looked at him. "Did you know? That Theo got a job in Diagon Alley?"
Corben froze for a moment. "No," he answered. Technically, he wasn't lying. He knew Theo was looking for a job, but he didn't know he had got one already. But Blaise wasn't one to be fooled. He sat down gingerly beside him, taking off his cloak.
"He told you, didn't he?" he asked.
"He told me that he was looking for a job," said Corben cautiously, scrutinising his brother. He needed to know what Blaise felt about this, but his face remained as impassive as always. "So … did he start?"
"Yes. Twilfitt and Tattings."
Twilfitt and Tattings was a robe shop in Diagon Alley that sold more embellished robes than Madam Malkin's. Corben knew the robes at Malkin's were of a lower quality, but they got more customers due to the cheaper prices. Corben and Blaise have always shopped for their robes at Twilfitt and Tattings though, and he could see why the place would attract Theo.
He rubbed his hand over his thigh with a sense of discomfort. Blaise was staring at him intently, like he was trying to bore through his mind and find out all of his deepest and darkest secrets. When he didn't speak, Corben sighed and looked at him. "Why did you come here?" he asked.
"How come he told you about this job, but not me?"
Corben heaved an exasperated breath. "Really, Blaise? You're asking me why your boyfriend didn't tell you that he wanted a job at Diagon Alley when you've been constantly hounding me about my training at the Ministry?"
"But why would he need a job?" asked Blaise with what sounded like desperation in his voice. "It's not like we don't have money."
"Money isn't the only reason people get jobs."
"Well, what's his reason, then?" Blaise demanded.
"Why don't you ask him?"
Blaise, for the first time, looked a little lost. "He won't tell me. He says he needs some time off. Time off from what?"
Time off from you. It was with great effort that Corben managed to keep the words to himself. He knew how devastating it would be for Blaise to hear that, but a part of him argued that he would deserve it. In the end, he decided not to aggravate his brother and instead, said, "Well, why does it matter why he wants a job? Shouldn't you be happy that he's doing something he wants to do?"
Blaise scoffed. "Oh yes, because he's wanted to work at Twilfitt and Tattings since he was a kid. Always has been his dream job."
Corben dropped his head over his hands in exasperation. "Do you see now? This is exactly why he didn't want to tell you. You're not supportive at all. Anything and everything I did in my life - you had to have a problem with it. Same with Theo. You only care about how things affect you. That they might make us happy is something you cannot even comprehend."
"He could've at least told me he was looking for a job," said Blaise in a small voice.
"And then what?" Corben countered. "You'd have discouraged him, tried to tell him that he was making a mistake, made him feel small. It's not fun, Blaise."
Blaise looked at him quizzically, like he couldn't understand why it was so wrong to discourage one's boyfriend from doing something he wished to do. Corben knew it was pointless trying to argue with him, and he was about to give up and ask Blaise to leave when he spoke up, proving him right. "What - what do I do now?"
Corben looked at his brother in resignation. "Why do you need to do anything? Just be happy for him, that's all."
Blaise probably wanted to say more, but the bell rang just then and, thankful to have an excuse to leave, Corben got up to open the door.
It was Harry on the other side. Corben stood still for a moment, trying to decide who it was he would rather face.
"Can we talk?" asked Harry softly. His eyes went over the living room and he spotted Blaise. "Oh, I'll - I'll come back later. Sorry for bothering you."
Corben made his choice. He grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him inside. "That's alright, Harry," he said, looking pointedly at Blaise, who stared suspiciously at Harry. "Blaise can wait here while we talk."
He led him to the bedroom and shut the door noisily behind him. Then he looked at Harry.
It has been around a month since they had last seen each other. Well, Corben has sometimes spotted Harry at the Ministry, but he was sure that didn't count. He was surprised at Harry's sudden appearance at his appartment, but upon taking a good look at him, all the negative feelings towards him vanished promptly.
Behind his glasses, Corben noticed the shadows around his eyes. His cheekbones jutted prominently, like his cheeks have been forcefully hollowed out. Even though he was wrapped in several layers of clothes, Corben could tell that he has lost weight too.
He took a few steps towards him, his concern outweighing his need to feed his ego. "What happened to you, Harry?"
Harry's eyes weaved into a frown. "What do you mean?"
"You look like you've been starving. Maybe you should follow my dietician's routine yourself."
Harry chuckled and sat down on the bed. "I want to show you something." He patted the spot beside him. "Will you sit?"
Corben was unwilling to let the matter go, but he was overcome with curiosity so he obeyed. Harry shrugged off his bag from his shoulders and rummaged through the contents from which he pulled out a thick roll of papers. Corben watched in confusion as he unrolled the papers, but his confusion only deepened when he realised what the papers were. They seemed to be cutouts from the Daily Prophet, except the writings were a lot smaller than they usually were.
Harry placed the cutouts on the bed and flattened them with his hands. Then he picked up the one at the top and held it out for Corben to see.
"This article was written a year after the war," he explained. "I had just started dating Ginny, and we were hanging out a lot after she was home for the summer holidays. The writer, you will notice, had interviewed several students from Hogwarts, and of course Ginny was very popular, so a lot of stories circulated about her. This article touches on how she has dated "so many boys" before me and questioned if "the Boy Who Lived", "the Chosen One", was another one of Ginny Weasley's" flings."
Corben frowned as he read the article. Harry picked up another cutout and continued speaking. "This one was after she left school and I was accepted into the Ministry as an Auror. Both of us were busy and haven't been hanging around a lot, and the author of this article cooked up ridiculous stories about our breakup to feed the public."
"That's stupid," said Corben, eyeing the cutout, in which there were two pictures side by side, one of Harry, and one of Ginny. It was obvious the pictures were taken in secret. "Did they expect you to go dates every single day for the satisfaction of the public?"
"Apparently." Harry smiled a little. "You know how the Daily Prophet has always been accused of prioritising their sales over telling the public the truth? Well, the public enjoyed scandal, and they enjoyed reading about me. So our relationship opened a gateway for the Prophet to increase their sales by telling the public what they wanted to hear. They didn't care if their stories were true or not. They were just happy that orders were coming in from all over the country. After the war, people wanted entertainment, and the Prophet provided it."
Corben didn't say anything. He spent the next few minutes scrunching his nose in disgust as he read all those awful stories about Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley that were made up to make the public happy. He couldn't help but notice how in most of the articles, it was only Ginny who was dragged through the mud, whilst Harry was held up in a pedestal.
"Do you see how the stories got worse and worse?" asked Harry after a while. "They literally do not care anymore about what they publish, as long as there's a steady stream of people willing to buy their papers."
"How did the Weasleys take it?" asked Corben. "Ginny's parents? And her six older brothers?" He paused and smiled. "Didn't they come after you with a machete?"
Harry laughed. "Ginny is the youngest child and only girl, so of course, everyone was very supportive of her about this. I was scared for a while that they'd blame me for it, but they didn't. In fact, they invited me to the Burrow one day and all the Weasleys, led by George, lit a bonfire in the backyard and burned down all the Prophets. Molly served drinks and told me that the Daily Prophet belongs in the trash. Arthur just straight up banned the newspaper and announced that the Quibbler was a whole lot better than that rubbish."
"And how did Ginny take it?"
"Oh, it didn't affect her at all. I sometimes took a copy home from work, and we would read the articles written about us and laugh about them."
Corben turned back to the articles again, but he wasn't paying attention to them. He was thinking about the bonfire, the burning of the Prophet, and he couldn't help the smile that formed on his face despite the envy that twisted his gut. He wondered if Blaise would do something like that for him.
"Anyway, Corben," said Harry suddenly, and he knew he was going to say what he had actually come here to say. "I brought these cutouts because I wanted to show you what you would be facing when you're dating me. I wanted to show you that this is what I was trying to protect you from." He paused and frowned a little, like he was trying to make up his mind about something. "I was afraid they would attack you even more than they attacked Ginny. Because, well, because you're a guy. It would be impossible to keep our relationship a secret - not that I want to - but when reporters find us in public, there's sure to be a scathing article about you that will affect not only your life, but also your career. And I was afraid you would blame me for it. I didn't want you to -"
"Harry, listen to me," Corben interrupted, resisting the urge to take his hands by clasping his fists together. "I know what I'd be facing. I've known it since the time I saw those fan letters on your desk. I don't have parents to come after you with a machete, and Theo and Blaise don't read newspapers, so you don't have to worry about my family. And as for me, I can handle it. You got to trust me on this, Harry."
Harry smiled. He reached over the articles and grasped his hands. "I'm sorry for what happened that day," he said softly. "I should've tried and explained to you properly, but I lost my temper. I'm sorry."
"And you lost your temper because I accused you unfairly," Corben argued. "It wasn't your fault. I'm sorry for saying such things. I know you aren't like that. You're, in fact, the most normal person I've ever met. You're a huge dork and you've got a big heart, and I like you. A lot."
Simultaneously, they leaned towards each other and pressed their foreheads together. "Please don't worry about what the Prophet publishes about me or what people say about us," said Corben quietly. "Say what you will about Blaise, but one thing he has taught me is to not give a fuck about other people's opinions."
A bubble of laughter erupted from Harry's mouth, and that was when Corben suddenly realised how much he had actually missed him. He wished Blaise wasn't in the other room, for he was suddenly overwhelmed by an intense desire to do things with Harry he had never before imagined doing with anyone. Just to avoid Harry noticing his blush, he hurriedly pulled back and turned his attention to the mini Daily Prophet articles again.
Harry seemed to have other plans though, for he pushed the articles away and moved closer to him, nudging his arm gently. "Kiss me?" he whispered.
Corben gladly obeyed.