SquidgeWorld Archive

Title: Hear Me Out                                        
Author: Makoto Sagara
Series: Harry Potter
Archive: the usual suspects; anywhere else, ask first
Pairings: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Words: 4145
Category: Angst, Romance
Warnings: Slash, language, ooc, EWE, flangst, light torture
Summary: Part 4 of the Infidelity Series – Draco has a second chance to make things up with Harry, and he’s determined not to waste it! Sequel to Foolish.
Disclaimers: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Publishing, and Warner Bros. I make nothing from this. In fact, I lose money to write this, so… no suing, ‘kay?

Author’s Notes: So, I started this right after I finished ‘Foolish’, ages ago, but my computer crashed and I lost a lot of stuff. I wasn’t too happy with where it was going before, so this is okay with me, as far as this story goes. This part was inspired by the song “Hear Me Out” by Frou Frou. Don’t own it. For shame. There’s a modified quote from Jane Austen’s ‘Pride and Prejudice’ in this part. See if you can find it. Cookies if you can! Let me know what you think at the end, yeah?

Hear Me Out

My mother was absolutely right when she told me that I had to stop pitying myself. I wasn’t doing anyone any good. I wasn’t moving on. I wasn’t back with Harry. I was just there, and hating myself for all the rubbish I’d turned my life into. However, I wasn’t sure what I could do right after I’d resolved to win my lover back. I’d been a selfish being my whole life and I might still have been if it hadn’t been for Harry and Mother.

So, now, I was forced to look at myself and discover what my part in the failing of our relationship was. It was the first thing I had to do. Even before I made that wretched slut Corner pay for touching my Harry, and pay he would. Just not right this second.

It really wasn’t Blaise that made this all different. No, I was sad and lonely before then. Harry and I had stopped talking about things that mattered long before Blaise showed back up in my life, and as I thought, I could see that it was mostly my fault. When we began seeing each other, we talked all the time. Mother used to hate having us over for dinner because she’d hardly have a chance to speak to either of us without the other butting into the conversation. We’d been all over each other too. Always touching, kissing, holding hands, sex everywhere. I mean, one time, we couldn’t wait and ended up with a mutual wank in the Weasley bathroom.

After Lucius died, just before his release from Azkaban no less, I’d stopped talking about what bothered me. Harry had tried to get me to talk, probably because Granger had mentioned something from that wretched Muggle Psychology she was so interested in, but I’d shut down on him every time, claiming that there was nothing wrong. And he’d let me get away with it, not wanting to push me.

Why hadn’t he pushed? That was what we did to one another, wasn’t it? We pushed each other’s boundaries; got under the skin of the other and made them react and feel. But, Harry hadn’t done it then. I realise now that that signalled the beginning of our troubles.

And when he’d asked me about my feelings regarding his becoming an Auror, I lied and said that I didn’t mind. Even after he’d graduated from training and was going out into the field on dangerous cases, I’d refused to voice the fact that I was terrified that he could be maimed or killed. I couldn’t stand to let him know that I was so against it. I knew how much he loved his job and how much he wanted to help others. I just wanted my lover to be happy.

So instead of telling him about my paralyzing fears for his safety, I made any conversations we had about how much time he was working, how little time he spent with me after the dinners with the Weasleys and Mother on the weekends and his abundant amount of overtime worked.

Merlin, I’d bollixed things up since then. We had a great relationship at first, and I’d thrown it all away because I was depressed. If Father and Sev could see me know, they’d probably disavow any knowledge me because of how pathetic I’d become. I was acting like some wretched little Hufflepuff, wallowing in my feelings and not realising what was going on around me with my own relationship. Well, that was going to change, and right quick. I was a Slytherin, and it was about bloody time I remembered it.

First things first, I was going to shower, shave, and get dressed and groomed to perfection. Once I was back to my old self, I was going to begin plotting against that disgusting twit, Michael Corner. Then, I was going to find Harry, beg him to take me back and then shag him within an inch of his life everywhere in our house, almost certainly until both of us couldn’t possibly move.

Yes, that sounded divine, but I had to go in order. With a lighter heart than I’d had in a long time, I went to take care of my personal ablutions.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A short trip to the hidden vaults at the Manor turned up one of the few Dark Artefacts that Mother and I hadn’t handed over to the Ministry upon our arrest. And why would we? It would have definitely meant a lifetime in that wretched hellhole, Azkaban, and it had been resting comfortably in the vaults for nearly two centuries. After reading the journal on how the ring actually worked, I began to wear it so that it would be familiar with my magical signature. Once it recognised me, it would obey my every command.

That done, I began digging up information about Corner. Evidently, the twat was an Auror and his partner was a fellow Ravenclaw from our year, Kevin Entwhistle. When had Rowena’s House gotten so cliquey? I thought that was saved for Godric’s House. It only took a few bribes – some paltry hundred galleons and a new Firestar 100 broom – and some outstanding debts called in to receive the addresses to his personal residence and his family’s home. The latter was a just in case measure, but the former was my primary target.

Gathering my bag of tricks, as Harry once called them, I Apparated to the coordinates in the Lakes District, to some pathetically small Muggle village near the northern rim of Lake Windermere. Fortuitously, Corner lived on a farm far away from his nearest neighbour, and I didn’t have to worry about Obliviating some unsuspecting Muggle. The fewer people who knew what I was about to do, the better.

Licking my lips in anticipation, I cast a Disillusionment charm on myself and made my way to the tiny cottage. A metre from the habitat, I could see the blue and purple wards flashing and knew it was only a matter of time before they alerted Corner to my presence. With a self-satisfied smile, I held my right hand up and pressed the platinum and emerald snake signet of the garish ring I’d been wearing for the last three days. The wards around Corner’s home flickered and died like that Muggle picture box Harry bought a few years ago when he turned it off.

The area was unnaturally quiet and I cast a Muffling charm so not to wake up the probably sleeping Ravenclaw. When I was near the front door, I pressed the signet again and the wards flared back to life, crackling like a roaring flame – the way poorly erected wards did when a wild animal crossed them. With that taken care of, I entered the home of Michael Corner.

I had to try very hard not to gag on the bile that rose to my throat as I took in the man’s house. Pictures were everywhere, but they weren’t the normal, healthy Wizarding photos that Harry and I had at Grimmauld Place and our rooms at the Manor. No, this sick bastard had taken any photo of my lover that he could get his hands on and had butchered them so that he was standing in the place of Granger, Weasley, I and a few hundred other people. If only the other Aurors knew about their co-worker’s obsession…

Besides the obvious signs of his sickness, the furniture in his hovel was of sub-par craftsmanship. A few mismatched chairs, a shabby couch, and a terribly battered table made up the entirety of the front room. I looked through one door and saw a shabby kitchen area with a table and two chairs. The second door leading off this first room led to a grungy bathroom that you couldn’t pay me to even look at under normal circumstances.

Another door opened into what could only be this lunatic’s study. A few bookshelves were sparsely filled with various texts. I didn’t waste the time to find out what they were. Merlin knows what I would have found. I might even have to drop an anonymous tip into the Aurors, and truthfully that was the last thing I wanted to do. I didn’t care if he did something to anyone else, but I was going to make sure that he stayed far, far, far away from Harry and me. The room was completed with a beaten up desk and a ratty leather chair behind it. I turned towards the last door in Corner’s shack and pulled out my wand.

I checked this door for any spells or extra wards that might be upon it, and was rewarded with red, green, and orange lights shimmering before my eyes. The bastard might have been sick, but it looks like his Ravenclaw intelligence hadn’t left him. There was an ingenious use of the Incarcerous spell, a Stunner, a Petrificus Totalus, and a Silencio laced all over the door that could only deactivated when it was opened from the inside. Truly, it was rather interesting, and something that I’d consider talking to Harry and Mother about later, but I knew that I had to get to my prey on the other side of this trap.

With a smothered chuckle, I pressed the signet on my ring and watched as the spells appeared to melt away as if they never existed. I opened the door and took a cautious step inside of the bedroom.

If I thought the living room was disturbing, the bedroom was worse. A life-sized picture of Harry Potter in his Auror dress robes greeted me, his shy and uncomfortable smile flashing to a fierce scowl. I had to take a deep steadying breath. The sight of my lover’s familiar features made my heart skip a beat painfully and a brief thought crossed my mind that Harry would hate what I was about to do, but I pushed that down to the corner of my head that held all those pesky conscience-like moments. I had to deal with Michael Corner now, or he’d become a problem later. His house was my proof of that.

Harry would just have to forgive me later. Sometimes it’s just easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission. This just happened to be one of those times.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When I finally cast the spell to wake Corner, the Auror was tied to his bed with both magical and physical restraints. To say the other man was surprised would have been a vast understatement. He appeared to be in total and complete shock to find me looming over him with my wand pointed at his throat. “Malfoy?” he croaked, sleep lacing his voice.

“In the flesh, Corner,” I sneered, wondering just how much damage I could do to the other man before anyone found us. “I must say, your décor leaves something to be desired.”

“As if you have any right to judge me,” he snarled, pulling at the bindings so they cut into his wrists and ankles tightly. “You had him and cheated on him. I would never do anything like that to Harry.”

“You’ll never have Harry, Corner, and I will make sure of it.” I gave him a cold smile and the look of defiance on the Ravenclaw’s face was traded for something a little closer to terrified. “Let us get one thing straight here. Harry is mine. If I catch you even breathing too closely to him, I will liquefy your organs and use the sludge in one of my potions.” I saw the way he gulped and my smile sharpened viciously. “I inherited Severus Snape’s library, among other things, Corner. You might want to remember that.”

“I could have you arrested for threatening an Auror, Malfoy.”

“Well, Michael, you’d have to recall this conversation, now wouldn’t you?”

“Then what’s the point in threatening me if you’re just going to Obliviate me afterwards? Seems a rather daft exercise if you ask me.”

“Well, it’s a good thing that I didn’t ask your opinion.” I tapped my wand against my lips in thought. “Besides, I have other plans for you.”

“You use any Dark Magic in here, Malfoy, and alarms will sound at the Ministry. A battalion of Aurors will be set out, and you’ll spend the rest of your life in Azkaban, just like your father.”

I narrowed my eyes at the man who thought he’d take my place at Harry’s side and sneered. “I won’t need magic to punish you,” I answered calmly, pulling out a silver knife and testing the blade’s sharpness by slicing through Corner’s bed curtains. “Muggles do have the right of things sometimes.” When the fabric was in a pool at my feet, I dragged the sharp blade down Corner’s pyjama leg. The fabric rent open and the skin beneath split apart, showing the fresh red blood in the silvery moonlight. Satisfied with the new, but non-lethal, mark I’d given the other man, I moved my weapon to his face.

“How do you like your eyes, Corner? Perhaps I’ll remove them so you can no longer stare at Harry.” Said beady brown eyes widened comically. “Yes, or I could remove your lips, so that you can’t speak? Or would your tongue be more effective for that?” I could have died laughing at the way Corner began to tremble. “Aw, what’s the matter? Is the big, bad Auror terrified of the little ex-Death Eater?”

“If you do any of that, I can still tell them what you did by writing it down!” His voice was high-pitched but strong as he renewed his efforts to free himself from his restraints.

I let the knife trail up his arm to his wrists and used the metal to caress his fingers. “Yes, you might, if you had hands to write with, of course.”

Corner actually began trembling as the tears gathered in his eyes. “Please, don’t do that, Malfoy,” he pleaded pathetically. “I need my hands.” A sharp, acidic smell permeated the air, and I could see the wetness that had pooled in the crotch of his pyjama pants.

I sneered at him in disgust, realising that Corner was the world’s biggest worm and wondering how he’d actually made it as far as he had as an Auror before then. “I require you to make a few concessions if you wish to keep your body whole after our interview, Corner.”

“Anything, Malfoy. I’ll give you anything.”

“First, you will never talk to, let alone attempt to touch, Harry ever again.”

“But we work together! That’s not possible.”

I moved my weapon to his precious, urine-soaked penis and put the tiniest bit of pressure into the touch. “Make it possible.” I left out the “or else”. It wasn’t necessary. “Second, you will refrain from blabbing about our run-in.”

“Harry would never believe it anyway,” he sobbed hysterically.

“Oh, I’m sure that Harry would believe that I’ve held you here at knife point. He knows me far too well.” I made a little stabbing motion at his groin. “Now, promise me.”

“I swear! I’ll never tell anyone anything!”

“Excellent,” I purred. “There are only a few more things that I have to do and then we won’t have to see each other again, unless you open your mouth.” I took great care in slicing Corner’s cheeks, leaving long, weeping cuts in the wake of my knife. And then, instead of casting a regular healing charm on the wounds upon his face and thigh, I used my wand to cauterise the marks, like Muggles did. They’d be sure to scar, and Corner would always remember what had happened this night and who had done this to him. Once done, I smiled sadistically and started at my victim. “I bind you to my will, Michael Corner. You will speak no word about Draco Malfoy or Harry Potter from this moment on. I bind you to my will. You will stay far away from Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, or you will bleed from tiny wounds all over your body.” When the purple light that had been gathering at the tip of my wand covered his body, I went to finish the ritual. “Subconjunto!”

And then I was done. I took extra glee in removing the life-sized poster of my lover from this demented psychopath’s bedroom wall before I turned on my heel and walked out to the living room without looking back at him. When there, I started a fire in the fireplace, and then proceeded to toss in all of the crazy photos around the room into the flames, watching as they curled and blackened before my eyes. When that part of my job was done, I walked out of Corner’s Cumbrian cottage and took a deep breath of fresh air.

To release Corner from his bindings, I pressed the signet of my ring for the fourth time that night before Apparating back to Malfoy Manor. I needed sleep and a good long shower. The next day, I would begin my attempts to win back Harry.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

To my surprise, the wards on Grimmauld Place hadn’t been changed. I could still Apparate directly into the sitting room on the main floor of the house. I wanted to crow in triumph. It meant that a small part of Harry knew that I’d be back and that he wanted me to return to him. Either that or he’s been too busy with that tart Corner and others like him to remember to change the wards to our house.

I didn’t like that thought, but I realised that it was just paranoia speaking since everything looked and smelled the same as it did the day that I packed up and moved back to the Manor. The air was heavy with the scent of Harry’s dark Italian roast coffee and kippers, and I was overcome with the desire to bury my face into my lover’s unruly hair as I begged for forgiveness.

The house was deathly silent as I made my way up the many flights of stairs to the room we shared for so long. The bed was a mess, and the pillow that I used was pulled to the middle of the mattress. A few items of mine that I seemed to have missed when I was packing were placed in an easily viewed spot in the middle of the dresser. It was a little sweet, in a creepy sort of way. It made my heart hurt to see that Harry appeared to be waiting for me to return at any second.

I ran my hand over the bed sheets and smiled sadly. Just looking at our bed was painful, especially since Harry wasn’t in it. In fact, I was pretty sure that Harry wasn’t anywhere in the house. I planned to take advantage of that fact and took off my shoes before lying down on Harry’s side of the bed, inhaling his scent that surrounded me.

I must have fallen asleep while luxuriating in our bed because the sound of footsteps pounding up the stairs startled me into the land of the living. The door opened to reveal Harry, standing there with a look of utter shock on his face. “Draco?” he croaked.

“Harry,” I breathed, too overwhelmed to say much of anything else. He was absolutely breathtaking. His hair was, of course, a lost cause; it was beyond dishevelled. His green eyes were wide and bright behind his glasses. And somehow, he was making those atrocious clothes I swore I threw away ages ago look mouth-watering. However, that could have been the bare shoulder peaking through the neck of the stretched out collar. “Harry.”

“Draco, what are you doing here?” he asked. And it was then I noticed he was scowling.

“Harry, I-” I tried to speak around the lump in my throat, but Harry wasn’t happy to see me, and there was all this space between us that I’d never noticed. “Harry, I’m so sorry.”

“I thought Malfoys didn’t say they were sorry,” he said nastily.

“Of course we do,” I snapped.

“Okay, so what did you expect, Draco?” He ran a hand through his messy hair and I could see the way jaw clenched and unclenched. “You thought you could just waltz back into my house, say you’re sorry for cheating on me for months, and then I’d just take you back?”

‘Yes, no, maybe,’ I thought sullenly, but I knew that wasn’t what was going to happen. “No, I – I didn’t think about what would happen once I saw you again. I just… needed to see you.”

“You’ve seen me,” he spat, turning his head so he didn’t have to look at me. “You can leave now.”

The hand that I’d raised out to touch him fell back to my side and I curled my fingers into a fist. “No.”

“What was that?” he asked incredulously.

“I said no, Potter,” I said coolly, wrapping myself up in the Malfoy indifference. “You and I have needed to talk about things for a long time, and we’re going to talk. Now.”

“Perhaps you should have thought about that before you slept with Zabini, Malfoy.” It was there, in his voice, the ice that he’d learned from me throughout our many years together.

“How long did you know?”

“Probably since it started,” he whispered. I could hear the ice cracking and his whole demeanour was so raw and brittle. It hurt to listen to him, and yet I owed it to him to do so. “I was there the night Pucey opened his shithole. I wanted to be with you.” Suddenly, I was pinned by those green eyes I adored, bright with unshed tears. “I followed you into the loo.”

I wanted to be angry, indignant, anything but this overwhelming sense of disgust with myself. “I hate your job,” I whispered. “I hate that it’s so bloody dangerous. I hate that you spend so much time at the Ministry with people who either adore you or hate you, who don’t know you, and you spend no time with me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before then, Draco? It would have been rather helpful, you know.”

“All you’ve wanted to do was to be fucking Auror, and I couldn’t take that from you,” I said.

“You should have said something. Dammit, Draco, I-” His voice caught, and it took everything I had not to reach out to comfort him.  “Why are you here?”

“I had to see you,” I said again. “I… Harry, I’m so sorry.”

“You already said that. But that’s not what I meant.” He moved away from the doorframe, taking a few steps closer to me. I could feel my heart pounding painfully in my chest. “Why are you here, in our bedroom, instead of waiting downstairs?”

“I needed to be here,” I whispered hoarsely, moving closer to him one step at a time. Some emotion flickered across his eyes, but he didn’t step back, and I took the last few steps before I pulled him close and crashed our lips together in a kiss that reminded me of Fiendfyre.

Harry didn’t fight me. Instead, he wrapped his arms around my waist and neck, returning the kiss with as much force as I was using. When our bodies touched, I could feel how much he still desired me. I wanted to throw him to the floor right there, but I knew it was too soon to resort to sex. No matter how much I felt like I was drowning, surrounded by Harry’s scent, taste, sounds, and magic. Merlin, all he needed to say was do something, and I would have wasted no time in doing so.

It was with extreme reluctance that I pulled back from Harry’s kiss-bruised lips. I couldn’t help but smile as I listened to him pant while resting his forehead against my own. I ran my hands over his clothed back, not trusting myself to touch his skin that was so close.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “This doesn’t make everything all better, you know?”

“I do,” I replied, placing a soft kiss to his nose in a frighteningly Hufflepuff show of adoration. “I didn’t think it would.”

“You still have a lot to make up for.”

“I know.”

“You’re going to have to start over from scratch,” he whispered harshly, finally looking up at me with heated, nearly black eyes. “And it’s going to be a lot of work.”

“I know,” I repeated honestly. I was rewarded with one of Harry’s blinding smiles, and the pain that I’d felt for so long seemed to lessen. Everything wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.

~ Finite ~