SquidgeWorld Archive

Title: Foolish
Author: Makoto Sagara
Series: Harry Potter
Archive: the usual suspects; anywhere else, ask first
Pairings: Harry/Draco, Draco/Blaise
Rating: PG-13
Category: Angst, Romance
Warnings: Slash, language, ooc, EWE, cheating, angst
Summary: Part 3 of the Infidelity Series – Harry weighs in on the issue of Draco’s affair, and finds an unlikely assistant to help the blond see the light. Sequel to Homeless.
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: This is the third part in the Infidelity series. It was inspired by the song(s) Foolish/Unfoolish by Ashanti, which I do not own at all. This will be from Harry’s POV. Thank you to all who read and reviewed the first two parts! It made me really happy!

Foolish

He was always so bloody beautiful. Even when we were kids and he was being a right prat, he was beautiful. Alright, so he was a little pointy back then. But he grew into his features, and now he looks rather… chiselled, I guess. That’s what ‘Mione used to say. Until… then….

I can’t help but heave a huge sigh and fight back tears when I think of that time. We’d been together for almost seven years, and I thought we were happy. Okay, so we’d been distant for a while and hadn’t had sex in months, but I thought we were happy.

Turns out I was wrong.

Ron has a habit of asking me when my feelings changed for him. I couldn’t answer him the first time he asked. However, after some thought, it was probably during sixth year, that train ride where he was sitting with his head in Pansy Parkinson’s lap, looking completely haunted. It was one of the few times I’d ever seen him totally vulnerable, human. I mean, he was still a horrid git, yeah, but he became a person to me then. Even after that bastard broke my nose by stepping on it, he was less my enemy and more of a puzzle. Maybe that’s why I was so obsessed with him that year. However, he kinda deserved that Sectumsempra in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. Bloody wanker was going to hit me with a Cruciatus, and he knew exactly what it would do, so I hardly feel so bad about it now. Of course, we had to talk a lot before that guilt dissolved. Sometimes, like now, when I miss his arse, I wish we hadn’t. Then, at least, I could hate him in peace.

And our failed seventh year, seeing what he suffered at Voldemort’s hands, only cemented the budding tenderness I felt. I can still see the way he wanted to keep me safe when Hermione, Ron and I were tossed in front of his family and his father was begging him to confirm that it was really me under that wretched Stinging Hex. Then, thinking about the way he wrapped his arms around me when we escaped the Room of Requirement usually follows that. At the time, I was just worried about making it out of the Fiendfyre alive, but now, I feel warmth around my waist where he was clinging to me when that memory flashes across my mind.

I can still see the flush of gratitude on his pale cheeks after speaking for him and his mother in front of the Wizengamot and then handing him back his wand when he was cleared. His fingers brushed against the palm of my hand, and it felt like electric currents passed through  me, like that time that Dudley made me put my finger in the light socket so he could laugh when I cried but much, much, much more pleasant.

Until then, I hadn’t noticed that his very touch could do that to me. I hadn’t known that anyone’s touch could do that. I’d felt alive for the first time, as clichéd as that sounds.

We were awkward friends at best, but his mother seemed to take me in as another son, and as things with Ginny grew more and more strained, I spent more time at the Manor with him and Narcissa. It was a gradual thing, I guess, but it was real.

And then a year later, there was that stupid dedication ceremony of that horrid statue of me, celebrating the first anniversary of Voldemort’s downfall. I hated the bloody thing, but he was there, with his mother. I hadn’t seen Narcissa for months, (Gin had backed off a bit and it wasn’t so weird over at the Burrow, so I hadn’t been spending so much time over at the Manor), but she and I had been exchanging pleasant owls. She was looking forward to Lucius finishing up his two year sentence in Azkaban, which he was halfway through, and I was looking forward to starting Auror training. None of that mattered, he was there. And he looked absolutely breathtaking. He wore these pale dove grey robes that appeared to be moulded to his lean, athletic frame. His platinum hair was free for the first time since we’d met. His grey eyes were soft and happy, reflecting his robes in colour. His pale skin looked less sallow and more like light ivory. He was fucking beautiful. And when he gave me a lazy smile, I was lost.

I had to give a speech that day, and I’m normally no good at that kind of thing. However, Hermione had told me to try and give the speech to one person. So, I focused on the blond who was staring at me as if I was the last person on Earth for him. It was easier to get through the ordeal, and before I knew it, it was over. Everyone was clapping, but he was flashing me a bright smile that warmed my whole body. Until Ginny draped herself over me bodily, whispering how proud of me she was and how we should go out to celebrate. His smile dropped quickly and I could see the life fade from his grey eyes.

I shoved Ginny off of me with a growl. She began to yell at me, but I ignored her. When she was done, I turned to her, told her that I didn’t love her romantically and that she deserved to be with someone who did. When she didn’t get the hint, I turned towards D-

Sorry; I had to take a moment there.

I turned towards Draco and told him that I loved him.

After that, we were the happiest people for two years. It was outstanding sex and sweet moments cuddled up together in front of the fire on rainy days. He dragged me out the first week we were officially a couple and bought me a whole new wardrobe, claiming that no boyfriend of his was going to go out in rags and just because I was accustomed to them didn’t mean I had to stay in them.

He was so good for me, for my self-esteem.

Like our first date – He came over to 12 Grimmauld Place to pick me up, looking so damn sexy in soft grey trousers and a white button up that had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was softly mussed, like he’d just woken up. I figured he’d spent hours trying to get it to look so effortless, but it suited him extremely well, and made me want to skip the meal he had planned  and just take him right upstairs. I looked up at his handsome face and nearly melted at the soft, gentle smile he gave me. It was then that I knew he loved me, without a doubt, even though he didn’t say a word.

That night, we had dinner at a modest restaurant that was darkly lit, but I don’t remember much about what I ate or what we talked about. All I remember was the fact that our eyes were locked completely and that we couldn’t stop touching one another. We didn’t have sex that night, but we didn’t need to right then. We knew it was going to happen, and we just let it happen when it would.

We’d been dating for two months before we finally managed that, but by the time he was in my bed, I was totally crazy for him, and I was sure the feeling was totally mutual.

And then, Kingsley got me to accept going into Auror training. I thought that Draco was supportive about it, and at first, I guess he was. It wasn’t until I actually graduated that the cracks began to show. Lucius died before his release, right before I started Auror training. I guess that was when the first crack appeared. It was after that that he stopped talking to me about things that bothered him. He became extremely moody and defensive. He would go back to the Manor to his mother for weeks on end, especially if I was on a case that required a lot of overtime. We were either fighting or not talking. Then, we’d make up with spectacular sex and be fine for a while. But, it didn’t start to get really bad until I took the Paulson case.

I was working fourteen hour days. I’d stopped calling him at lunch to see how he was. When I came home, I would shower, eat whatever Kreacher left heating on the hob, and pass out in bed next to him, if I even made it that far. He’d pull away from me sometimes, or he’d get really stiff when I tried to cuddle up next to him, seeking his warmth and love. A few times, he got out of our bed and would go and sleep in one of the guestrooms we always kept in case company stayed over.

Then, he went out with Parkinson, Pucey, Greengrass, Seamus and some other Slytherins to that shithole Pucey opened off of Knockturn Alley. I knew he was mad about the fact that I was in the middle of another tough case – it was over kidnapped children, for fuck’s sake – but he didn’t even tell me about the damn opening! I had to hear it from Dean Thomas at the office. I came home early, thinking that I’d find him there and we could go together. It had been a while since we went out and had fun, but he was already gone.

I decided to go anyway and surprise him. By the time I got there, the table where he was sitting at was full of drunken, giggling Slytherins. Seamus had pulled Daphne Greengrass out onto the floor, and they were gyrating against one another in a very lewd manner. (Merlin, I’ve been spending too much time around Hermione lately. That’s exactly how she framed it when she saw my memory of that night!) I could see Draco staggering across the crowded room in the direction of the loos and just as I was about to follow him, Blaise Zabini got up and beat me to it. I didn’t think anything of it and went after my lover.

I now wish I hadn’t. I opened the door to find Zabini pinning my Draco against the wall with his fucking tongue down his throat. And Draco wasn’t protesting. He was making sounds of approval that felt like daggers, bloody daggers, to my heart. I didn’t stay. I ran out of the loo, pushing passed the people in the club until I was out in the fresh air. I ran a hand down my face, and that was when I noticed that I was crying. My chest was tight and I felt like I wanted to curl up and die. I don’t even remember getting home, but once I was there, I stripped down to nothing and crawled into bed to cry myself to sleep.

He woke me up when he got home. He’d been freshly showered, and no matter how many Drying charms he’d cast, I still knew. He didn’t smell anything like a club. No, he smelled like a bloody vat of Moroccan spices. I tried not to begin crying again when he climbed into bed and curled his lean, beautiful, treacherous body around mine.

I wanted to push him away, curse him, kick him out, but I couldn’t. I was too hurt to leave and too embarrassed to let him know that I saw him with Zabini. So, I acted like I didn’t know. The worst part was that I still wanted him. Desperately.

Things got better for a while, I guess. I came home after working eight hour shifts, he’d be there. Sometimes we’d have dinner together and shag all night long, but I could tell that he wasn’t with me anymore. Not fully. Not like he used to be. I felt like I was dying. Then, there were the times when I’d come home from work and he’d be getting ready to go out again. When I asked him, he’d say he was going out with Pansy and Adrian, but I knew he’d be with that fucking prick.

I lasted for about four months in this kind of hell until I couldn’t do it anymore. I had to confront him. I didn’t want to break up, but I definitely wanted him to stop fucking Zabini and lying to me. All I said was that I couldn’t do it anymore. And his face fell, like I’d been the one to betray him.

It turned into a row, complete with shouting and throwing things and name calling. It was like we were fifteen again and didn’t know how to communicate like adults. And when he called me an insensitive prick, I just shut down on him. I didn’t say a word while he screamed and cried and called me more names that I want to forget.

When he stormed up to our bedroom and began to pack, I didn’t say anything. I just sat in the dark parlour and stared into the empty fireplace. He was leaving me. I could have stopped him. I could have begged him to stay. I just didn’t want to do it. Why should I?

After he’d left, without a word to me, and gone back to his mother at the Manor, I hunted down Zabini. It was frightfully easy after I’d made up my mind to do it. Mandy Brocklehurst, a Ravenclaw in my year at Hogwarts, worked in the Department of Building Permits. She was only too happy to help the great Harry Potter by getting Zabini’s information. When I got there, he answered the door with that stupid fucking smirk he used to wear back at school when Draco and I were fighting. I wasted no time in talking. I just punched him in his smug face. Then, I kicked him in the crotch. When he was rolling on the floor with his hands covering his bits, I screamed in his face about what a fucking waste of flesh he was while I ruthlessly pummelled him. Oddly enough, he gave a pretty poor attempt at trying to defend himself.

It was Ron who pulled me off the bastard. Turns out that Hermione had run into Mandy, and the blonde had told her everything. Of course Hermione put Ron after me so that I didn’t kill the bastard. It was a close thing, for sure. The funny thing is that I never once reached for my wand. I went straight to Muggle fisticuffs, as Draco would have said.

He never reported me, but I never heard about him even looking at Draco again. It was enough for me. Even if I was miserable without the blond, I sure as hell didn’t want Zabini to even think he stood a chance with my lover. Fucking twat.

I wasn’t really surprised when Narcissa showed up at my doorstep the next day. I just wished it had been her son.

“Harry, darling, you look awful,” she said, placing a cool hand against my cheek. By that time, it had been nearly a month since Draco’d left me.

“Narcissa, come in,” I replied, ignoring her comment. “To what do I owe the honour of your presence?”

“I’ve come to speak to you about what happened with Draco,” she answered calmly. “And Blaise Zabini.”

“Heard about that, did you?” I called Kreacher and asked him to bring us tea. “I’m not sorry that I did it.”

“I know, and to be honest, I don’t blame you for doing so. Katarina raised a horrid little ponce who cares about nothing but making other people miserable. Yours and Draco’s relationship was not the first that he intruded upon. It was bound to happen, and he should be grateful that you didn’t kill him. I suppose that’s why he hasn’t tried to press charges against you.”

“No,” I said darkly, letting a cruel smile cross my face briefly. “The reason is that Ron, after he’d pulled me off of him and removed my hands from around his stupid neck, told him that if he was stupid enough to try something like that, he’d let me finish the job and help me do it. I’m guessing he didn’t want to really put to the test the integrity of two Gryffindors’ honour.”

“Hm, yes, well, Blaise deserves that.” She cleared her throat as I poured her a cup of tea. “Harry, dear, Draco refuses to tell me what happened that night, and I’m not sure what I can do to help either of you in this situation.”

I closed my eyes to keep back the tears that were brimming under the surface. They were never that far since then. After the many years that Draco and I had been together, Narcissa had become like another mother for me, and I’d missed her over the last few months. First, it had been work keeping me from visiting. Then, it was the depression. And finally, the break up with Draco had made me wonder if she would want me to come and see her. It all felt like too much at that moment.

“I don’t know that there is anything you can do, Narcissa,” I choked out, trying my hardest not to sob in front of her. Her cool hand against my cheek again made me open my eyes to stare into her calm, solid, and warm blue eyes. “This really is something between the two of us, but since he’s not accepting any communication from me, and he’s the one who walked out on our relationship, he’s going to have to do something.”

“Darling, you and Draco are so alike sometimes. You are stubborn to a fault, the both of you. You must know that I adore you as well.” She smiled sadly. “You are welcome to come to the Manor, if you wish to see me, or I will come here to Grimmauld Place to see you. Do not think that my foolish son’s recent behaviour has changed my opinion of you at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. If I was ten years younger, I would fight for your affections.” She gave me a slight wink and that was it.

It was then that I broke down. She held me as I sobbed, crying and snotting all over her terribly expensive silk robes, rubbing my back as I shook with the force of my loss and whispering soothing sounds until I was all cried out. Then, she lifted my head and wiped my face with a linen handkerchief that she pulled out of her robe pocket.

“I believe a little suffering on his part and some space for you, would be best for now,” she said finally. “He was so spoiled as a child. My only child, the light of my life, the only reason I got out of bed when V-Voldemort was a guest in my home… It is hard to see him in so much pain, Harry, but it is something that he must suffer through to grow up.

“He hasn’t told me anything, but I can assume that most of this situation comes from the fact that he was unable to tell you how lonely and worried he was when you were gone on those rather dangerous missions as an Auror. He is a smart young man, but not the best communicator of his feelings, I fear. However, you know that you did not push him to speak about what was wrong. You could have stopped this before it happened, Harry.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” I whispered hoarsely. “I still love him, Narcissa.”

“Of course you do, my darling.” She wrapped me into a tight hug, and I could smell the soothing scents of lavender, vanilla and orange musk. “I would never doubt that. He still loves you, as well, especially if the way he’s making himself ill in his unhappiness is any indication.”

“Is he… is he sick?”

“Yes, but there is nothing I can do for him. I believe that he is wallowing in self-pity.” She stood up from the couch, and I watched as she straightened her robes. “Do you want him to come back to you?”

I looked up at her, confused, before her words made any sort of sense to me. “Yes,” I said, letting out a deep breath.

“Then we should teach him a lesson, I think.” She gave me a sharp smile. “This is what you will do…”

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

A week later, Narcissa and I put our plan into play.

I met Dean, Ron, Seamus, Neville, Kevin Entwhistle, and Ernie Macmillan for lunch at one of those new cafes on Diagon Alley. Kevin brought his Auror partner, Michael Corner, with him, and the blond made a huge production about being able to sit next to me throughout our meal. For all that it was a trial on my nerves, it was enjoyable. Well, if I forgot about the fact that Ginny’s ex-boyfriend was trying to rub his hand up my thigh to my cock through my robes under the bloody table.

I knew immediately when Draco and Narcissa were spotted by my lunch companions. Dean stopped talking in the middle of a story about his latest case. Seamus frowned and put down his pint of Guinness (something that never happens). And Ron, my best mate and first friend, growled something about “stupid, slimy gits”. I looked up and let the smile I’d been forcing onto my face for the last hour fade, closing my eyes and wishing that I was at home.

Narcissa had been right. He looked like shit. I could tell, even from twenty metres away that he hadn’t been eating or sleeping properly the whole time we’d been separated. His hair and skin were dull and lifeless. There were dark bags under his normally bright eyes. It hurt my heart to look at him so utterly miserable. I wanted to go over to him and take him in my arms, kiss him soundly, and then feed him, fuck him, and curl up around him for a week so he’d sleep.

I didn’t do any of that, because before I could make up my mind, Ron had jumped from the table and punched Draco in the face, breaking his nose if the amount of blood that began pouring down was any indication. I tried to get up, but Dean and Corner had grabbed my arms and were pinning me to my chair. I was still watching Draco when Michael leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

Then, I was too busy shoving the bloody Ravenclaw off of me to see Draco begin to cry or run away. It wasn’t until Ron showed back up at the table, pulled Corner up and threw him in his abandoned chair on the other side, and then sat down to congratulate himself on a job well done that I looked up to see Narcissa watching my table with a cool eye and no Draco. Then, I looked over at my best mate and punched him in the nose.

I stomped over to Narcissa, who smiled briefly before patting my cheek and Apparating away. At least I knew she wasn’t mad at me for Ron’s actions.

“Bloody hell, Harry, what was that for?” Ron swore when I rejoined the table.

“That, Ron, was for nearly screwing up Narcissa’s plan to knock some sense into her stupid son,” I said, glaring daggers at the pouting Corner. “And Corner, if you ever so much as get near me again, Merlin help me, I will feed you your bits in tiny pieces.”

Soon after that, we all parted. I headed home while the rest went back to the Ministry. What’s sad is that if Draco had waited, we could have taken a vacation to southern France like he’d been after me to do for the last year. I’d told Kingsley that I needed some time off after I cleared my latest case, but when he left me, I took an indefinite leave. I couldn’t concentrate. I only wanted him. Oh, the irony…

However, I knew that the most crucial part was Narcissa’s to play. She had suggested that I try to make Draco jealous by having him see me in the company of other men, but I hadn’t wanted to do that. Corner’s actions had been totally his own, but I suppose they’d been beneficial, judging by the look that Narcissa had given me that afternoon. Now, I just had to wait for Draco to make his move.

I’d give him a week. If he hadn’t done anything by then, well, I’d just have to take matters into my own hand.

~ Finite ~