Let Him Cry | By : quitedemented Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 1495 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and company are not mine and they never will be. Neither do I own Hootie and the Blowfish or their songs ‘Let Her Cry’ or ‘Hold My Hand’. I make no money from this and no offence is meant.
Warnings: male/male relationships not overly graphic but there will be sexual content, also there will be swearing, drug and alcohol use, self destructive behavior and mentions of bodily functions you might not want to hear about. Nuff said.
AN: This is not a song fic in the normal sense of the term as the real lyrics aren’t written until the very end and only for clarification. Readers are strongly urged to listen to the song ‘Let Her Cry’ by Hootie and the Blowfish after finishing this fic as I believe you can’t get the full effect without it. In this Ron and Harry have been together since they were 16 and moved into their home at 18. Also, THIS IS NOT A LIGHT HEARTED LOOK AT ADDICTION and you should not read it as if it is. Ron is not being blasé he is in depression and you should read this with that in mind. Thank you. Oh and this wasn’t beta-ed.
Ron pulls the car over to the shoulder of the road not far from the street lamp Harry is sitting under. He would like to say that this is the first time that the pub has called him to come pick up his ‘friend’, but he would be lying.
It isn’t the first time this pub has called and it isn’t the first pub to have his cell phone number on speed dial but it is one of the last in the area Harry is still welcome in. It like the others is muggle, just like the rest of the area. Muggles don’t point and stare and call The Daily Profit when Harry bursts into tears at the bar or starts a fight. No, muggles just ring Ron’s phone at two or three in the morning and tell him to come pick up his hysterical boyfriend before they have to call the police.
No one ever wants to send Harry to jail, they all feel too sorry for him, even if they don’t know what they’re feeling sorry for him about. No one around here knows what Harry has gone through or what he has lost, Ron only knows the basics himself.
He turns off the car and steps out closing the door behind him and approaches Harry slowly. Harry is leaning back against the lamp post staring up at the flickering light. His eyes are red from a mixture of crying, alcohol and lack of sleep. Harry speaks quietly as Ron gets closer. “Ya know the first time I saw Sirius I was standin’ under a street lamp a lot like this one.” It is spoken quietly, flatly, like someone might make a remark about the weather, but Ron knows thoughts of Sirius are likely to be what has set Harry off this time.
“Do you wan to talk about it?” Ron already knows the answer because he asks it every time he has to pick Harry up but he always hopes it will be different the next time he asks.
“No.” Says Harry gruffly before trying to heave himself off the ground. He isn’t having much luck so Ron lifts him under his arms and sets him on his feet. Harry doesn’t protest, he never does. Just like he never asks for help and never tells Ron what is wrong no matter how many times he is asked.
“Ready to go home?”
“No, bu’ I really doubt you’ll drive me to a differ-different pub.” says Harry his voice slurring slightly.
“Nope, so let’s get you in the car. Do you need to be sick or take a piss before we get going? Cos I don’t think the car’s upholstery can take too many more heavy duty cleaning spells.”
Harry shakes his head a bit too violently and begins to topple over. Ron catches him around the waist before he falls and begins to maneuver him toward the car.
After helping to get Harry’s feet inside and fastening his seat belt for him Ron goes around and gets into the driver’s seat and starts the car. The ride is quiet, it usually is unless Harry is still crying, singing to himself or gets sick, or on rarer occasions, has an accident before they get home. Tonight Harry just stares out the window until they pull into the little house they got together after the war seven years ago. Ron gets out of the car and goes around to Harry’s side. He unbuckles him and helps him out before helping Harry into the house.
“I need t’be sick.” mumbles Harry once they get inside. Ron knows that means he has about thirty seconds to get Harry something to be sick in before he simply sicks up all over himself. After judging the loo to be too far away Ron quickly drags Harry into the kitchen and positions him over the sink just in time for Harry to vomit spectacularly into it. Ron says a quick thank you to the Gods that he has already done the washing up and put the dishes away earlier today, or yesterday really.
Harry retches a few more times before moaning “‘m done.”
Ron sets him in a kitchen chair for the moment and goes to rinse out the sink and dump bicarbonate of soda down the drain to keep it from smelling. He does this with the ease and nonchalance of one who has done this many, many times before. It is not a skill he is proud of.
Ron then gathers Harry up and helps him into the bathroom to piss and brush his teeth then piss again before washing his hands and face.
Once they make it to the bedroom Ron goes about undressing Harry and getting him into some clean boxers and a t-shirt. “You need to piss again?” he asks Harry. Yes Harry has gone twice already but Ron always asks before allowing Harry to go to sleep. You only have to get pissed on in your sleep once before you get a little gun shy. Ron has been pissed on four times that he can think of off the top of his head, so he asks.
“No.”
“You’re sure?” Ron asks skeptically.
Harry frowns in thought for a moment “Maybe a bit.” he says finally.
“Right, back to the loo with you then.”
Once Harry is, hopefully, empty and tucked snugly in bed Ron goes about picking up Harry’s discarded clothes and tossing them into the hamper. “Mum would be so proud.” he thinks sarcastically. That done he strips off the jeans he donned when the pub called and lays them on the bench at the end of the bed before crawling into bed with Harry. This is not how Ron pictured his life at twenty five.
Harry sniffles in his sleep before snuggling up to Ron’s chest. Ron sighs and wraps his arms around the smaller man.
“‘m sorry you had to come’n get me ‘gin.” Harry mumbles quietly.
“Not asleep then.” Ron thinks “‘s alright love ‘m just glad you didn’t try to drive home.”
“Didn’t drive there in the firs’ place.” Harry shuffles and looks up at Ron, his eyes anguished and Ron braces himself for what he knows will likely be a painful admission on Harry’s part, or possibly for both of them. “I-I kissed another bloke tonight may-maybe more’n one I can’t remem-remember.” Harry chokes out, his eyes filling with tears.
Ron swallows thickly before replying “‘s alright love, I don’t care, I know it didn’t mean anything.” he runs his hand through Harry’s dark hair and kisses his forehead softly.
Harry sniffles and kisses him “I love you. You know that right?”
Ron nods “Yeah, I know.” he runs his hand through Harry’s hair again. “I love you too, now get some sleep okay?”
“Kay. I’ll try not to drink so much next time.” Harry says quietly then rests his head against Ron’s chest again and falls asleep like nothing has happened. And Ron supposes nothing has, nothing new at least.
Ron looks down at Harry’s slumbering face. He looks so small, so fragile when he is asleep and he is really. The Dursley’s, the drugs and alcohol have all seen to that. Ron’s throat feels tight and he has to look away. He stares at the ceiling and once again asks the Gods how to fix this. Asks them how to fly away from this existence he lives in now. And how to keep Harry with him when he does. Then Harry sighs in his sleep and Ron holds him a little closer before allowing himself to fall asleep again.
Morning comes as it does more and more often for Ron these days, near noon and accompanied by the sound of Harry throwing up in the bathroom. Ron closes his eyes against it trying to will it away like he always does but gives up at the sound of a particularly loud retch from Harry. With a sigh Ron rolls out of bed and heads to the bathroom.
Harry is half sitting half laying in the floor with one arm and his head resting on the toilet seat. Ron leans over him to flush the toilet then wets a flannel and pours Harry a glass of water from the tap.
“You okay now?” asks Ron, meaning ‘are you done being sick’, because the answer to that question in the broad since is a definitive no.
“Yeah.” Harry croaks.
Ron nods then tips Harry’s face up and wipes his mouth with the flannel, Harry bats it away. Then Ron hands him the water and allows Harry to rinse his mouth out before handing him a hangover potion. The potion only dulls the worst of the symptoms these days but it’s better than aspirin and a cup of coffee any day.
Harry downs the rest of the water before Ron hauls him up off the floor. “D’you need help in the shower this morning or can you handle it yourself?”
“I’ll be fine on my own, thanks babe.” Harry says before beginning to strip off the t-shirt Ron put him in early that morning. Ron nods and leaves him to it.
Ron wanders into the kitchen and rinses the bicarbonate of soda out of the sink and puts the container away. He gives the drain a cursory sniff to make sure the bicarb has done it’s job and nods in satisfaction when he discovered it has. Then after gathering the necessary tools and ingredients he goes about preparing breakfast.
Ron hears the shower turn off just as he finishes his own breakfast and is setting down a plate of fried eggs, bacon and toast for Harry that he may or may not eat depending on how well the potion has worked this morning.
A few moments later Harry drifts into the kitchen and plops down in front of his breakfast.
Ron turns to him and sets down a cup of coffee prepared the way he likes within easy reach. Ron takes a better look at him and raises an eyebrow at the way Harry is dressed. Normally Harry would wear pajama bottoms and a t-shirt around the house, then put on some jeans later to head out to the pub. Today however he is wearing a pair of nice khaki slacks with a light blue oxford shirt tucked into them.
“You look nice. What’s the occasion?”
Harry swallows his mouth full of eggs and gestures to the calendar with his fork. “First Sunday of the month.”
Oh. Ron nods. Harry is going to Remus’ for supper. After the war Harry promised Remus that he would come visit at least once a month and so every first Sunday Harry will sober himself up, get cleaned up and dressed nice and go visit him. Harry has never broken a promise. Ever. That’s why Harry has never promised to stop drinking or to stop being unfaithful. He always says ‘I’ll try’, and he always does but he always fails. Harry has never broken a promise to Ron because he has never made one he knows he can’t keep.
“Do you want me to go with you?”
Harry shakes his head “No that’s alright, I’d rather go alone.”
“Okay.” Ron turns back to the cooker and begins to clean up the breakfast mess. He had hoped, like always, that Harry would ask him along because then Ron would be the one to drive so he would have control over where they went afterwards. But Harry has never asked him along so Harry will drive and Ron will pray that he gets home safely later that night or tomorrow morning.
He knows he could insist on going but then Harry will pull away from him and just not come home for a few days. That happens more often then he likes to admit as it is and he isn’t going to encourage it. Some of his disappointment must have shown because Harry speaks up behind him.
“You know I don’t have to be there for a couple hours yet? We could spend some time together.”
Ron knows what that means, sex, that is the only thing they do together anymore. At least the only thing where they are both involved completely.
They make their way back to the bedroom and Harry carefully removes the clothes he had been wearing and folds them on top of Ron’s jeans on the bench before climbing into bed. Ron strips out of his t-shirt and boxers and sits down next to him.
“Come here.” says Harry softly pulling Ron to him. Ron comes easily, he lays down next to Harry and runs a hand up his too thin side. Ron shallows thickly at the feel of Harry’s ribs, when Harry is wearing clothing Ron can pretend the drugs and alcohol have no effect other then the drunkenness and emotional outbursts. But here, like this, it is all too obvious what they are doing to him.
Then Harry is kissing him and Ron can pretend it’s alright again. They kiss deeply for a long time just enjoying this simple intimacy as Harry runs his hands all over Ron’s chest and Ron runs his hands through Harry’s hair. It’s safe, Harry’s hair, because it never changes. Harry’s body might grow thinner, his eyes duller, his skin more drawn and pale but his hair has never changed. It is still just as dark, just as thick and just as soft as it was the first time Ron touched it.
Harry had once joked that his hair was indestructible. He had said no matter how many times it was cut, singed or doused with all manner of foul substances it always went back to normal after a few days. And it was true, Ron has watched over the years as the Harry he knew began slowly fading away but through it all his hair has remained unchanged. Perhaps that’s why Ron loves it so much.
Ron is startled out of his thoughts by the feel of Harry’s slick hand running up and down his length. Ron lets out a low moan into Harry’s open mouth.
“I’m ready for you.” breathes Harry against his lips and Ron brings his hand down to Harry’s entrance and finds it to, indeed, already be slick and loosened. He must have been more lost in thought then he thought he was to have missed Harry preparing himself.
Ron rolls on top of him and positions himself before beginning to slowly push in. Harry’s head rolls back and his eyes slit in pleasure as Ron seats himself fully inside him.
“Mmm Ron, so good. You can move.” Ron nods and begins to glide himself in and out of the man he loves. Harry grasps his shoulders and begins to moan as Ron’s pace quickens, his face contorting in pleasure.
Ron troat seizes up while looking down into Harry’s face. He wishes that he could say he was the only one to have ever seen Harry look this way but he knows that isn’t true. Ron may have been the first and he might be the one Harry always comes back to in the end but he isn’t the only one. In fact Ron knows he isn’t the only one to have seen it in the last month. There is always someone else. Harry will come home pissed out of his mind and sob and beg Ron for forgiveness telling him where he’s been and what he’s done and who he’s let fuck him this time. Harry only ever tells Ron where he’s been when he’s had too much to drink. Even for him. Ron will always tell him it doesn’t matter, that he doesn’t care and they will move on. Yes, there is a long list of nameless men who have seen Harry like this. And Ron really doesn’t care about them, he is numb to it these days. After all Harry always comes back to him when the sun comes up.
To him or Malfoy. That’s where Harry goes when he is angry with Ron. And that is the only person Harry sleeps with that hurts, because Harry never apologizes for sleeping with Malfoy. Because Harry only apologizes for sleeping with men he doesn’t mean to. For sleeping with men while he is drunk.
Malfoy won’t fuck Harry when he’s drunk and that’s what hurts. Harry is sober when he is in Malfoy’s bed Harry has asked to be there, wants to be there. And He comes home sober and smelling of Malfoy and never apologizes.
“Ron.” Harry breathes pulling Ron from his thoughts once again.
Ron leans down to kiss him again, he won’t think about Malfoy anymore. He begins to thrust harder and more deeply and Harry’s moans and gasps become more frequent, louder.
“Oh Ron. Oh yes just like that.” Ron grunts in response he leans in and begins to bite and lick at Harry’s neck causing Harry to gasp.
“Yes baby uhn, don’t...don’t stop I’m so close.”
Ron pulls back and braces himself with his arms on either side of Harry’s shoulders so he can watch.
Harry gasps and thrashes before grasping Ron’s biceps and arching his back. Then his body seizes up and with an almost inaudible sigh Harry comes. It is that sigh that Ron cherishes because the nameless men never get to hear it because Harry never does it when he is drunk, he will only groan and fall asleep soon after. That sigh is special but as much as Ron cherishes that sound it also makes his chest ache because he knows Malfoy hears it every time. Malfoy has never heard the drunken groan, because Malfoy never fucks Harry when he’s drunk.
Run thrusts a few more times before coming inside Harry with gasp of pleasure. He pulls out carefully and collapses next to Harry taking in deep breaths and trying to ease the ache in his chest. Harry rolls over and kisses him softly.
“That was wonderful babe but I need to shower again and head to Remus’. I’ll try not to get in too late.” and with that Harry grabs his clothes and heads to the bathroom.
Ron lays there listening to Harry as he showers and dresses before grabbing his keys and walking out the front door. He wonders if Harry lays with Malfoy while they both calm down after sex or if he just takes off afterwards like he just had. In the end Ron decides he really doesn’t want to know.
After having a shower himself and dressing in last night jeans and a clean long sleeved t-shirt Ron begins tidying up around the house. He does the washing up and puts away the clean dishes. He wipes down all the kitchen surfaces and sweeps the floor. He goes into the lounge and picks up the magazines off the coffee table and puts them back into their rack. He folds the throw blanket and drapes it back over the sofa. He dusts up some floo powder that has spilled and straitens the container that holds it. Then he goes into the bedroom and strips the bed and remakes it with clean sheets before gathering all the dirty laundry so that he can start the washing.
He doesn’t mind doing all the chores around the house, they’re easier than what he’d had as a child, and after all, Harry pays for the house and almost all the utilities, even though he’s is rarely here to use them, so Ron feels he’s just doing his part.
He begins to separate to darks from the lights until he comes across Harry’s jeans from last night. Ron pats the pockets before putting his hands in them because on rare occasions Harry brings home something dangerous in his pockets. Not needles, Harry can’t stand those, but he got into the habit of picking up odd things on his way home sometimes. Ron used to throw these things away but after awhile he started a collection. He keeps a box in the cupboard under the sink and it’s filled with small knives, pieces of brightly colored glass, small interestingly shaped stones, a few broken watches, bits of wire and one pink baby’s shoe. That last one had made for an interesting wash day.
Harry finds the box funny on his sober days but those have become fewer and fewer over the years. There is another box behind the one with bits of odds and ends that Harry doesn’t know about or if he knows he doesn’t say anything. That box is filled with match books, napkins, bits of paper and calling cards, all of which have one thing in common. They each have the name and number of a man Harry has met in one of his pubs. Ron knows that Harry has not slept with all of these men, he knows Harry has most likely not even flirted with half of them but Harry excepts these numbers and shoves them in his pockets and Ron finds them. It should make him angry but like the late night confessions they just make him numb.
On worse days, days when Harry doesn’t come home or comes home but is so far gone he can’t get out of bed all day, Ron has thought about calling these men and giving them a right bollocking but he’s never done it. He likely never will.
Ron puts his hand in one of the pockets and pulls out three numbers, two on napkins, one on a business card. Ron wonders if one of these men is the one Harry remembers kissing. Ron looks at the business card again and snorts. It’s from a repair shop about two kilometers from their house and Ron knows the man who gave it to Harry. He’s worked on their cars before. Ron wonders if his wife knows he goes to pubs to pick up drunk men. Ron also wonders if maybe he should tell her so the next time he sees her in the market.
The numbers go in the box and Ron reaches into the other pocket and he pulls out a little plastic bag with some pills in it. They’re prescription, but not prescribed to Harry. Ron grips them in his fist and closes his eyes. He will not throw them away because Harry will ask for them and if Ron cannot produce them Harry will get angry and disappear for a few days. And not to Malfoy’s because Malfoy does not tolerate drugs of any kind in his home. Harry will just disappear. Ron hates when that happens because he’s never sure if Harry will come back and if and when he does what condition he will be in.
Ron sets the bag on the counter and tosses the jeans in the machine.
It’s ten o’clock at night and Harry is not home. Ron knows he left Remus’ a seven thirty because Remus flooed and told him so. Remus also told him that Harry was upset when he left. Ron has been praying for Harry to come home safely since eight.
Ron won’t call Harry’s cell because Harry will not answer, he never does. Ron’s cell has been in his hand since Remus flooed, in the hopes that Harry might call. Ron will settle for a call from the pub or even Malfoy at this point , just to know Harry is okay.
At a quarter to one Ron hears Harry’s car pull in. Harry stumbles into the house and grins at him, there is an empty bottle of gin in one of his hands and his pupils are dilated. Harry flops into the chair across from him and drops the bottle next to the chair.
“Where have you been?” Ron asks him calmly.
Harry just shrugs “Around.”
“Remus said you left at seven thirty and it’s nearly one.”
Harry shrugs again, he’s not smiling anymore and Ron knows that he would be pushing his luck if he asked any more questions. Harry pulls himself out of the chair and heads to the kitchen. Ron hears the sound of bottles clinking together and knows Harry is in the liquor cupboard above the frig. Ron puts his head in his hands and fights not to cry or scream in frustration. Then he hears Harry start to sing to himself in between sips. It’s a moderately happy song that Ron has heard before, it makes him sad though, because it’s lyrics remind him of their problems. He believes it’s called ‘Hold My Hand’. But singing is better then yelling, singing is better than crying, singing is better than silence. So Ron just listens and thanks the Gods again that Harry is home safe.
When Harry finishes his song and his drink Ron hears him rummaging through drawers. Then there is the sound of Harry trying to light a lighter and all of Ron’s frustrations from the day rush back to him and he storms into the kitchen. Harry is leaning against a counter with a glass pipe in his mouth and is still trying to light the lighter. It’s not a muggle drug he’s trying to smoke, Harry only takes muggle pills, the drugs are wizarding and therefore much stronger. They don’t have as harsh of after effects as their muggle counterparts do because, after all, wizards live longer and the sellers like to keep their clients around. They don’t ravage the body as quickly but the do kill you in the end and Ron hates them and what they’ve done to Harry.
“Not in this house!”
Harry looks up at him strangely “What?”
“You disappear all day going Gods know where doing Gods know what and you come home to get fucking high in my kitchen and you just expect me to sit by and watch it!?” Ron has went too far and he knows it but he is far too upset to care right now.
Harry’s eyes harden “ Your kitchen? That’s funny I could have sworn that I paid for this house but you’re right I shouldn’t be doing this in front of you!” Harry sneers and stalks out the back door into the garden. “I’ll do it in MY fucking back garden!” Harry slams the door and lights the pipe and Ron can’t watch. Ron goes to bed alone.
Ron wakes up around eight the next morning, he wakes up alone. Harry is not being sick in the bathroom, Harry has not passed out in the back garden, Harry is not sleeping on the sofa. Harry is gone.
Ron swallows thickly he knew this was a likely result of his outburst last night but he had hoped, if only briefly, that it wouldn’t be. Ron eats a piece of toast and takes a shower. Today he has to go to his part time job at the sporting goods store he works for. It is only something to pass his time as he and Harry both receive stipends from their parts in the war, he only works Monday thru Wednesday so he can be here for Harry. When he goes to get dressed he notices that some of Harry’s clothes are gone. He goes into the kitchen and the pills are gone along with a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of scotch. Harry’s car is not in the drive.
Ron walks into the lounge and there is a note sitting by his cell phone on the table. Ron picks it up with a shaking hand, Harry has never left a note.
Dear Ron,
I’m sorry but I just can’t do this anymore it’s not fair to you and I can’t stop doing these things to myself. I love so much baby, maybe I’ll be back some day but I just need to get away right now. Don’t worry about me I’ll be fine on my own. Just try to think of this as a vacation....for both of us. I know I can be a lot of work and you need this time off more than me so don’t be afraid to use it. I won’t hold anything you do against you while I’m gone just like I know you won’t hold it against me so try and enjoy your break.
With my love,
Harry
Ron doesn’t go to work that day.
It has been three weeks since Harry left and Ron has heard nothing from anyone about where he has gone. Even Malfoy would have called by now if Harry was there. Ron has called all of the local pubs and told them to call him if Harry walks in but none of them have called. He must be going to ones in another town, because Ron knows he hasn’t stopped drinking.
Ron wants to look for him but he has no idea were to start and the waiting is killing him slowly. He has hardly eaten or slept since Harry left and his cell phone has only left his hand when it is in it’s charger and on those occasions Ron is always close by.
All of their friends know that Harry is missing. Ron did not tell them but Hermione keep calling, and after a week Ron could not fool her by saying Harry was sleeping. She told his mother and soon everyone knew. They all floo him or call the house line daily to offer comfort and empty reassurances of Harry’s safety. They never ring his cell because Ron has blocked all of their numbers from it. If his cell rings it will be with news about Harry. His cell has not rang in three weeks and Ron has never cried so much in his life. It is all he seems to do anymore which is okay because he has time. Ron no longer works at the sporting good store.
Eight days later Harry walks through the door. He is noticeably thinner and has dark circles under his eyes, he also looks like he hasn’t had a proper wash or shave since he left. Harry says nothing just walks into the bedroom to gather clean clothes the Ron hears the shower start. Ron doesn’t know what he should do so he gets a beer from the frig. He sits back down on the sofa and feels sorry for himself.
Over the next few days Harry stays home and does not drink or do any drugs but neither does he tell Ron where he’s been. Ron does not ask, he just holds Harry a little tighter at night.
A week goes by and Harry is still sober when he leaves to visit Remus on the first Sunday of the month. Harry comes home afterwards and goes directly to the liquor cupboard. He drinks an entire bottle of vodka straight while he cries quietly. Ron has to carry him to bed. The next day at noon Harry leaves for the pub and this time Ron is the one to cry.
Over the next two months Harry’s drinking and drug use gets worse then it’s ever been and Ron can’t take it anymore. He packs his bag and tries to leave but is stopped when he catches sight of a photo on the mantle. It is from when he and Harry first got together before the war got bad. He and Harry are nearly seventeen. Harry is sitting in front of him in the grass and Ron’s arms are wrapped around him, they’re both smiling. Then Ron sees a photo that was taken four months ago, Harry looks like an inferi by comparison. Ron begins to cry. He cries hard and long, he cries because he can not believe that this is the same boy he fell in love with so long ago. He cries because he knows he can not leave him.
Two weeks later Malfoy floos him near midnight.
“Weasley.” Malfoy, no longer sneers his name he says it flatly and if Ron listens very closely he thinks there might be a small amount of pity in it.
“Malfoy.” Ron returns his greeting tiredly. He has been physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted since Harry started drinking again.
“I have something of yours that I require you to come and get.”
It must have been a bad night if Malfoy is calling Harry his.
Harry does not always go over to Malfoy’s to shag, in fact most often he ends up sleeping on Malfoy’s sofa. Because Malfoy will not fuck him when he’s drunk. Most often Harry comes over to talk and that, in many ways, is more painful to Ron. Harry only opens up to Ron when he’s too drunk to hold it in and even then he only confesses about his infidelity.
Harry talks to Malfoy though. On nights when Harry goes to Malfoy sober, Malfoy takes him to bed and helps him to forget without the drugs and the alcohol. At those times Harry comes home the next day through the floo about mid afternoon still smelling of Malfoy and heads to the shower. When Harry goes to Malfoy drunk and in tears Malfoy will sit with him on the sofa and hold him while he cries and listen as he talks. At those times Malfoy with drive Harry home the next day, the drive takes two and a half hours, Ron drove it one day to find out. And when Malfoy drops Harry off out front, Harry has already showered and eaten so he goes straight to bed.
When Harry goes to Malfoy drunk, high and angry, Malfoy listens to him rage and cry and waits for him to pass out or get too violent and stuns him. At those times Malfoy floos Ron to come pick him up because he knows Harry does not like to face him in the light of day after one of his rages. If it is a time Harry has passed out sometimes Malfoy will carry him through the floo and hand him off with a look of sadness to Harry and pity to Ron. If it is a time Malfoy has needed to stun Harry he makes Ron come get him because he is usually too angry or upset to floo without fear of a mishap. Tonight is a stunner night.
When Ron floos to Malfoy’s Harry is laying on the sofa unconscious and Ron knows from experience that nothing short of Ennervate or nuclear bomb going off will wake him. Harry looks even more frail and pale against the dark blue upholstery of Malfoy’s sofa then he normally does.
Malfoy notices Ron looking “This has to stop Weasley.” Malfoy states this like a command and Ron is suddenly angry.
“No shite Malfoy, really? You know I was thinking I should encourage him to drink more!”
Malfoy just stares at him cooly “I thought you already were.”
Ron wants to hit him, curse him, set him aflame but he settles for yelling “What the fuck are you talking about! I don’t encourage this! I don’t drive him to the pubs or light his fucking pipe or shove pills down his throat! I don’t ask him to let other men fuck him!”
Now Malfoy is angry “And you don’t fucking discourage it either! Do you take he keys away? Do you banish his drugs? Do you dump out his fucking alcohol? Do you kick him out of your bed when he comes home smelling of sex and other men?! NO! You sit back and let him do this to himself! He is fucking killing himself and you are helping him hold the wand to his head while he does it! You don’t encourage it but ignoring it is just as bad if not worse! You have to stop this Weasley!”
“I can’t you bastard! He doesn’t want to stop, he doesn’t even want to talk about it! And if I press the issue he’ll leave!”
“Then let him go!” Malfoy’s face was red and he was breathing very hard. “You let him rage and scream, you let him sleep around, you let him drink and do drugs, you let him cry into bottles of whiskey for hours. You let him do this to himself because you can’t let him go! You are letting him kill himself because you’re afraid of losing him. Well guess what Weasley you lost him a long time ago! And if you don’t grow some fucking bollocks and put a stop to this we’re all going to lose him too!”
Ron wasn’t looking at him he was looking at Harry, his Harry. “I haven’t lost him.” it was said in a near whisper.
Malfoy sighs and runs and hand through his hair. “Yes you have. You have because losing you isn’t enough of an incentive keep him from drinking.” Ron looks at him in confusion.
“When was the last time you saw him sober and not hung over hmm? When was the last time you had sex when he wasn’t drunk or high? Right after his disappearing act maybe?” Ron can’t speak past the lump that has formed in his throat, he can’t breathe through the ache in his chest and he can’t look at him because it is all he can do not to break down in tears...... because Malfoy is right.
“You know when the last time I saw his sober was? A week ago, because he knows I don’t want him when he’s drunk. Do you know when the last time he had a drink or took drugs in my home was? Never , because I don’t fucking allow it! He comes home to you when he wants to drink and get high. He comes home to you when he doesn’t want to be told no. He comes home to you because I won’t take his bullshit and he knows it. He comes home to you because he knows you’ll never let him go. You’ll let him do whatever the fuck he wants, even if it kills him because you can’t fucking let him go!”
Ron can’t hold it in any longer and collapses into tears and sags onto the sofa near Harry’s feet. Great wracking sobs rock his body and he can’t seem to draw in enough air to sustain them but neither can he stop. He sobs because he knows Malfoy is right, he sobs because he knows he still can’t let Harry go, he sobs because he knows if he doesn’t he will have to watch Harry die and he sobs because he knows he will die with him.
Malfoy says nothing as Ron lets out the anguish he is feeling and for that Ron is thankful. He could not take scathing remarks about weakness or stupidity and if Malfoy offered comfort Ron would fall apart completely and he can’t allow that to happen again.
When Ron has calmed somewhat Malfoy speaks again. “You need to decide what you want Weasley. Do you want to share him with the drugs, alcohol and any strange muggle who catches him at the right time while watching him kill himself slowly just to keep him in your bed? Or can you let him go, make him see his actions have consequences? You have to decide what you can live with. Maybe one more year with him like this if you’re lucky? Or a lifetime for him with someone else who can help him get better?”
Ron heard the underlaying question there. Can you let him be with me so I can make him better?
“I-I can’t....I don’t... it’s too late to be talking about this.” Ron says brokenly.
Malfoy sighs again but it sounds more saddened this time. “Take him home Weasley but promise me that you’ll think about what I’ve said.”
Ron nods and gathers Harry in his arms and Malfoy throws some floo powder into the fire. The last thing Ron sees before the fire spirals him and Harry away is Malfoy sagging onto his sofa and burying his face in his hands.
Over the next five weeks Ron thinks about what Malfoy said but he still can not give Harry up. But Harry is getting worse. There are no more hangovers because Harry has not stopped drinking long enough to get one. Malfoy has not flooed to return Harry or have him picked up since Ron had last gone to get him. Malfoy has not flooed because Harry is no longer welcome in his home. And that, is what marked Harry’s rapid decline. Ron can not remember when he last saw Harry eat. He can not remember the last time Harry has fallen asleep, not just passed out. Ron has lost count of the number of men Harry has slept with. Harry no longer apologizes.
That night Harry comes home as drunk as he ever gets. He does not speak to Ron he just goes into the back room and closes the door. Ron puts his head in his hands because he knows Harry is going to get high. Ron hears the stereo start to play loudly and he can’t fight back the tears any longer. He sits down on the sofa and cries. He cries for Harry, he cries for himself. He yells and throws his cell phone against the wall. Yells and begs for help. Begs for help from his mother, his friends. He screams to the Gods for help, he screams to Heaven and Hell and he cries. He cries until he can no longer see or hear. He cries until the tears just won’t come any longer. He cries because he knows what he has to do and it will be the hardest thing he has done in his life.
Ron hears the stereo turn off and then a loud thump before he hears Harry’s muffled voice. “Ron! Ron I need you please!” Ron runs to the back room and Harry is laying in the floor. He is surrounded by empty bottles, drug paraphernalia and his own vomit. But what scares Ron the most is the half empty bottle of pills and the fact that each time Harry is sick more of them appear. He hoists Harry up off the floor and carries him the bathroom. Harry vomits on him once on the way but Ron hardly notices.
Ron props him in front of the toilet while he digs through drawers desperately. Harry is not throwing up anymore, Harry is not moving, Harry is not breathing and Ron is frantic. Ron seizes the potion his is looking for and turns to Harry. He casts an Ennervate and Harry gasps and opens his eyes. Ron tips his head back and forces the potion down his throat he has about two minutes before it will start to work.
He strips Harry with a spell and sets him on the toilet and conjures and bucket. Harry is looking at him blearily and with confusion and more than a little fear. Ron strokes his hair and says he’s sorry for what Harry is about to go through. The potion is one Snape developed during the war and is designed to expel all toxins from the body any way it can. It is called ‘Snape’s Poison Purging Potion’ and un-affectionately referred to as tri-P or more popularly, ‘Tripe’. It was meant to be used to expel poisons but will remove anything that is not meant to been in your system wether it be magical or muggle the potion will remove them all.
Ron knows it works because he has had the misfortune of having to take it once and when it starts working the effects are sudden and violent. Ron helps to hold the bucket and directs Harry’s head toward it as the potion suddenly takes effect.
Ron explains his experience with the potion by telling people to image the worst case diarrhea and cramps they’ve ever had combine it with food poisoning and projectile vomiting and multiply it by ten and that is about what the potion does and feels like. It feels like your insides have liquified and then been forced violently out you mouth and arse at the same time. In other words it’s not pleasant. And Ron was told that the more toxins you have in your body the worse it feels. Harry has got to be in a kind of agony that Ron cannot comprehend and all he can do his help him hold onto the bucket and run his hand through Harry’s hair.
Harry vomits and defecates for a good twenty minutes before the potion has finished it’s job. It only lasted five minutes when Ron took it and he had felt like dying. Harry has been silently crying through it all and so has Ron. When Harry shows no signs of expelling anything else Ron vanishes the bucket and it’s contents. He summons a flannel and wets it with a spell before wiping Harry’s face. He dares not let go of Harry because Ron knows he can not hold himself up at this point. Another spell removes the need for Harry to be able to wipe himself. The spell is meant for use on babies, small children and the infirmed. Ron supposes that Harry counts as the last. After flushing the toilet Ron has Harry drink another potion that will help with the dehydration and helps him drink a glass of water. When Harry’s water is finished Ron starts a bath with a wave of his wand.
Once the tub has filled Ron quickly removes his own soiled shirt before lifting Harry and carefully lowering him into it. Ron leans over the tub stabilizing Harry with one hand and gently washing him with the other. Harry is watching him with shame and sadness in his cloudy eyes. As Ron lifts Harry from the water and wraps him in a towel and his arms Harry speaks softly. “You deserve better than this.” it is very weak but said with such sadness Ron can barely stand it. And as Ron lowers Harry into their bed he presses a kiss to his hair and says. “So do you.” But Harry does not hear, he is already asleep.
Ron cleans up the backroom and the bathroom, he showers and dresses in clean clothes. Then he checks on Harry who is still sleeping peacefully. Ron swallows thickly and turns away and begins to pack Harry’s clothes. Ron goes to the backroom and packs Harry’s things from their school days, he goes to the bathroom and packs his toiletries, he packs Harry’s books and photos in the lounge and then he floos Malfoy.
It is six in the morning by the time he and Malfoy have moved all of Harry’s things to Malfoy’s house, all that is left is Harry. Malfoy has said very little since Ron flooed and he says nothing now as Ron sits next to Harry on the bed.
Ron caresses Harry’s cheek and thinks about all he has done. He has let Harry drink and do drugs. He has let him rage and scream and sleep around. He had let his tears fall down like rain. And he has let him sing to ease his pain. And now, as Ron runs his hand through Harry’s dark hair and kisses him for the last time, he whispers that he loves him and does something he should have a long time ago. He lets him go.
After Malfoy has gone and taken Harry with him, Ron closes off the floo. He unplugs his home phone line and wards the house against appearation. He does not repair his cell.
Ron looks around the home he and Harry have shared for over seven years and all he sees are holes. Holes in the selves where his books were. Holes on the mantel that once held pictures of Sirius and Harry’s parents. Holes in the wardrobe where Harry’s clothes should be. And one huge whole in his heart where Harry has been since they first kissed at sixteen. Ron lays down on their bed, it smells of Harry. Ron closes his eyes and breathes deeply and then...he cries.
Ron moves out of the house two weeks later.
It has been six months since Ron sent Harry away without so much as a goodbye. He has not seen or spoken to him in all that time, Malfoy said it was for the best. Malfoy called him an enabler, someone who unintentionally makes it easier for an addict like Harry to continue in their addiction. Malfoy says he knows Ron didn’t mean to be that way. He knows Ron was only trying to keep Harry close and that Ron thought that he was protecting him against worse things by allowing him to drink and do drugs close by. But Malfoy said by doing that he had also kept Harry from seeking help by making his actions seem okay. Malfoy says it’s not Ron’s fault that he knows Ron only did the things he did out of love. But Ron knows his love nearly killed Harry.
Harry has tried to contact Ron a number of times through owls and some of their friends but Ron never reads the owls and he tells his friends not to give Harry his address or number. Malfoy says it’s for the best and Ron thinks he’s right.
Malfoy sends him updates on Harry every week, Ron reads those. Malfoy says Harry has run off over a dozen times but he always comes home sober. Malfoy will not let him in the house drunk. Harry has slept with only two different men since Malfoy took him in and was banished to a guest room for a month each time. Harry has been faithful for four months. The pub called Malfoy three different times because of Harry and each time Malfoy told them to have him taken to jail. The third time Malfoy left Harry there for a week before he came and bailed him out. The pub has not had to call again. If Malfoy catches Harry with drugs or high Malfoy force feeds him ‘Tripe’ to flush it out. Harry has been clean for four and a half months. If Harry could not clean himself up and make it to bed on his own Malfoy lets him sleep in his own filth where he lay. Harry has been sober for three months.
Ron is happy that Harry is getting better but wishes it had been with him not Malfoy. But Ron let him go and now he must let him be. Malfoy sent him a picture of Harry, it was taken a week ago. Harry has gained weight and looks much healthier. His skin has more color, his eye are brighter and the dark circles under them are gone. Ron even thinks Harry’s hair is shinier and he wonders why he had not noticed it dull. Ron is sitting at a table outside a café in muggle London and looking at the picture when a voice behind him startles him.
“He’s doing a lot better now then he was before, at least that’s what Draco says.”
Ron turns and is met with a tanned face that could only belong to Blaise Zabini.
“What would you know about how Harry was before?” Ron asks suspiciously.
Blaise gives a mirthless laugh “It’s kind of a long story but I wouldn’t mind telling you if you’ll let me buy you a pint?” he says with a smile.
“I don’t drink.” Ron says flatly. And it’s true, he has not touched a drop of alcohol since he sent Harry away, not even butterbeer. He does it in silent support of the man he loved, still loves. “But...” Ron continues “I might let you buy me a coffee. There’s a shop not far from here that has great lattés.”
Zabini grins and agrees and they walk to the little shop and sit at a small table in the corner with their drinks of choice. As they sit and sip Blaise tells Ron about how he and Draco got together near the end of the war. He says Draco took the loss of his parents much harder than anyone thought and that Draco had started drinking soon after their deaths. Blaise tried to help him through the loss but it was too much and Blaise just wasn’t strong enough on his own. And Draco had turned to alcohol.
He says Draco told him he first got together with Harry in a pub about six years ago. Back when Draco’s drinking was at it’s worst and Harry’s was just starting. Blaise says that Draco told him it had started off with them just talking. They would meet every few days and drink and talk then Harry would go home to Ron and Draco would come home to Blaise. But Blaise says that Draco soon stopped going for the liquor and started going just to talk to someone who understood. But as Draco’s drinking got better over the months Harry’s got worse. Soon Draco stopped going all together and Harry started going alone. Blaise said he and Draco were doing better after he stopped drinking they even talked about marriage at one point. Draco was talking to him about war and he was getting over his grief. But then Harry showed up one night and he was crying and asking Draco why he left him too. And Draco couldn’t turn him away.
Harry started showing up every couple of weeks and Draco would sit and talk with him. Blaise says that Draco did sleep with Harry while he was drunk one time but Draco told Harry it would never happen again.
“When Potter asked him why, do you know what he said?” Ron shook his head, Blaise smiled, it was not a nice smile. “He said I don’t fuck drunks.” Blaise lets out another one of his mirthless laughs and looks out the window. “Not ‘Because I’m with someone.’, not ‘Because I’m practically engaged.’, not ‘Because you’re with someone too and it’s fucking wrong!’. No he said ‘Because I don’t fuck drunks.’” Blaise doesn’t speak for awhile and Ron thinks his eyes look a bit too bright.
When he continues he tells Ron how he’d walked in on Draco and Harry while they were having sex a few months after that and why he left Draco for it.
“They didn’t notice me when I walked in. Hell I don’t think they would have noticed if a pack of Death Eaters had stormed in and resurrected Voldemort in front of them.” Blaise swallows thickly and continues. “I wanted to leave, to look away but I couldn’t. It was obvious they had fucked before because Potter pulled Draco’s head down and bit him just below the ear. It’s one of Draco’s big turn on’s in bed. It makes it hard for him to hold back but it’s not something someone would know about the first time and Draco doesn’t let on about things like that, he doesn’t like people to have that kind of control over him.” Blaise is gripping his cup tightly and Ron thinks it’s a good thing they ordered their drinks for here and the cup is glass not foam or it would have been crushed. “But it wasn’t even so much that Draco was sleeping with someone else or that it was Potter or even that they had done it before. No, what really upset me, what made me leave him that day was, that he had never looked at me like that in bed. When he was fucking Potter his eyes never closed not even when he came. He closed them every time with me, every single time he came he buried his face against my neck or closed his eyes he never looked at me. And Potter, Potter sighed Draco’s name like a prayer when he came. That’s when I knew I had lost him and that’s when I knew I needed to leave.” Ron barely hears the last sentence because all he can hear right now is ‘He sighed Draco’s name like a prayer when he came’. Ron is suddenly very cold despite the coffee he has drank. Harry never said Ron’s name as he came not even their first time. Ron feels the hole in his heart that had been slowly mending over the last six months rip wide open again.
Ron is brought out of his mental anguish by a light touch to his hands. He opens eyes that he does not remember closing to see Blaise’s darker hands gently loosening his death grip on his latté. Blaise take his hands in his and looks at him in concern. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you. I-I was just venting and I took it too far.”
Ron shakes his head “N-no it’s alright. It’s not your fault I...I just...”
Blaise squeezes his hands “You just what?”
Ron swallows down the lump that has formed in his throat “I just realized that Harry was never really mine.” Ron says quietly looking down at their clasped hands.
One of Blaise’s hands comes up to tip up his chin. He smiles sadly at him. “That make two of us. Draco was never really mine either. I think all we really did was keep them safe until they were ready for each other.” Blaise picks up his cappuccino to make a toast “What do you say Weasley? Here’s to picking up their pieces and putting them together.”
Ron picks up his cup “Call me Ron.” he says quietly and clinks it against Blaise’s.
Blaise gives him a small but genuine smile “Ron.” he says softly and takes a sip.
Ron thinks that if you love someone you should let them cry if their tear fall down like rain. And you should let them sing if it eases all their pain. But most of all Ron thinks if you love some one you should let them go. And if the sun comes up tomorrow, you should let them be.
She sits alone by a lamppost
She says Dad's the one I love the most
She never lets me in
when she's had too much to drink
I just run my hands through her dark hair
And just
Let her cry, if the tears fall down like rain
Let her go, let her walk right out on me
Let her be, let her be.
This morning I woke up alone
saying baby maybe I'll be back some day
You walked in I didn't know just what I should do
Saying
Let her cry, if the tears fall down like rain
Let her go, let her walk right out on me
Let her be, let her be.
-repeat chorus-
Last night I tried to leave
she was the same girl I fell in love with long ago
She went in the back to get highI sat down on my couch and cried
won't you hold my hand and.
Let her cry, if the tears fall down like rain
Let her go, let her walk right out on me
Let her be, let her be.
-repeat chorus-
AN: I know this was very sad for me but this has been in my head for awhile now and I had to write it. This was very easy yet also very hard for me to write because I have friends and family members who have had drug and alcohol problems in the past and some that still have them to this day. I want you all to know I was shaking while writing most of this. I’ve had those nights where you sit up and wait for the sound of the key in the lock or God forbid that phone call from the police or the hospital. I’ve watched friends fade away and nearly die because of their addictions and I’ve set by hospital beds after accidents. I’ve tried not to be an enabler but sometimes it’s hard. It’s hard to be torn between keeping a person you love close by letting them come home drunk and high, giving them money even if you know what they’ll use it for or telling them no and watching them leave to go God knows where doing God knows what and not knowing if the next time you see them will be in a casket. I Have loved the song ‘Let Her Cry’ for years but it was when I listened to it recently that I got the idea to write this. I mentioned another song that is also by Hootie and the Blowfish called ‘Hold my Hand’ and the lyrics I was referring to are as follows...
Yesterday, I saw you standing there
No comb had touched your hair
We'll take a walk together
'Cause I've got a hand for you
'Cause I wanna run with you
Hold my hand
Hold my hand
Hold my hand
I wanna love you the best that, the best that I can
'Till I thought about your problems, I thought about your crimes
I don't wanna be part of your problems
Also a very good song and from the same album ‘Cracked Rear View’. Well as sad as this was I did leave it on a hopeful note for everyone and I hope you all enjoyed it. Much love to you all please R and R.
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