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Stepping Stones	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 6989 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I am making no money from this writing.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Title: Stepping
Stones (1/4)

Disclaimer: J. K.
Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun
and not profit.

Pairings: Harry/Ginny,
Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione

Warnings: Sex (het and slash), infidelity, angst.

Rating: R

Summary: Harry
agreed to marry Ginny because he honestly believed that he couldn�t fall in
love with anyone. And then he found himself falling in love with Draco Malfoy.
From there, the next steps may be inevitable.

Author�s Notes: This
is the first part of a four-part story. I can�t say when the other parts will
be posted, since the chapters will all be different lengths. The title comes
from the steps along the way.

Stepping Stones

Chapter One�The First Step

�� It wasn�t
long after the war when Harry decided something was wrong with him.

�� It wasn�t
something he could explain, or it
would probably have come out in one of his drunken, late-night chats with Ron.
Or he would have dragged himself to Hermione, the way he always did when his
problems got too big, and confessed it. Hermione would have listened with
pinched eyebrows, hammered more of his problem out of him, sighed, and finally
given him good advice.

�� Instead, he
kept it to himself and thought about it until he could put it into simple
words, where it went like this:

�� He couldn�t
fall in love with people.

�� Oh, he�d
tried. Right after the war, it seemed like it would be a good idea to fall in
love with Ginny. She was there, after all, and she looked at him with such
worship that even Harry, who was oblivious to that sort of thing most of the
time, had to notice. And Harry knew that Ron had decided not to object. And
Hermione was Ginny�s best friend. It would have worked.

�� It should have worked

�� But it
didn�t. Harry went on several dates with Ginny, and still didn�t feel anything.
Oh, he could smile when she smiled, laugh when she told jokes, and listen in
true sympathetic horror when she told him stories about what had happened at
Hogwarts during the war. He could hold her hand and smile at the people who
winked knowingly at them from the corners of the Three Broomsticks.

�� But it
wasn�t more than that. Harry didn�t feel the sensation of fireworks bursting in
his chest when he looked at Ginny that Ron had described happening to him when he looked
at Hermione. He didn�t want to kiss her all the time, the way that Neville did
with Hannah Abbot. He didn�t stare at her, practically drooling, the way Blaise
Zabini did with Daphne Greengrass.

�� He tried to
tell himself that everyone was different, and just because he wasn�t Ron or
Neville or Zabini didn�t mean he couldn�t fall in love. He would just fall in
love the way Harry Potter did it, that was all.

�� But nothing
happened, still.

�� There was
no passion. After Harry broke up with Ginny�he couldn�t lead her on anymore�he
tried to look at other women. He got drunk and looked at them. He took strong
potions and looked at them. He wanked and thought of
them. In desperation, he wanked and thought of men.

�� It didn�t
work. There was still never anything more than the momentary pleasure. Harry
could have gone the rest of his life without dating or marrying anyone, and he
thought he would be just as well off.

�� He wondered
if something had been damaged in him when he died and came back after defeating
Voldemort. But that wasn�t the sort of thing he could ask about. Ron would clap
him on the back and tell him that of course
that hadn�t happened, and then look at Harry with an uneasy glance for
weeks or months. Hermione would burst into tears, which would confirm that she
had feared some of the same things.

�� Harry had
enough to deal with�Auror training, NEWTs, people
screaming in his face for imaginary sins and even more imaginary acts of
heroism�without adding that. He just kept the worry to himself and turned it
over, wearing it down with the handling of his thoughts,
until he could admit that it was probably the truth.

�� It was just
the way he was, the way George was missing an ear. In a way, it was almost a
relief to admit it. No more lying awake in the night, staring up at the
ceiling, and wondering what the fuck was wrong with him.

�� And then it
became a problem of what to do about Ginny, who was obviously and distractedly
in love with him.

*

�� Maybe you
should find someone else, Gin.�

�� Harry
hesitated at the entrance to the Burrow�s kitchen. He�d been coming to see if
Hermione needed any help with the dishes after dinner; Molly was still hugging
George, who�d announced that he was engaged to Angelina Johnson tonight, and so
hadn�t done them herself.

�� He hadn�t
known Ginny was here. And although it wasn�t the best or most ethical thing to
do, he leaned against the doorframe and listened.

�� I don�t want to find someone else.� Ginny�s
voice was quiet, but definite. It was the tone Harry had heard her use when her
parents wanted her to do something else besides being an Auror. Harry himself
thought she only wanted to be one because he was in the training program right
now, but her parents had tried to talk her out of it because she was a girl.
Harry could have told them that that was the wrong way to handle this
particular stubbornness.

�� But what
if he never notices you?� Hermione sounded desperate. �I like Harry, he�s my
best friend, but he�s not that observant,
Ginny. You could pine yourself to death over him, and he�d attend your
funeral politely and obliviously.�

�� Harry
scowled and folded his arms. He didn�t think he was that bad. He had noticed that Ginny still wanted him, after all. He
just didn�t have a clue what to do about it.

�� Then I�ll die,� Ginny said, and abruptly laughed, so abruptly that
Harry jumped a little. �God, Hermione, you�re melodramatic. Who dies of
a broken heart outside of romance novels?�

Harry smirked. He could practically
feel Hermione blushing.

�I�m just concerned about you, that�s all,� Hermione muttered. �I think you should find
someone else because Harry can never give you what you deserve.�

�I think there are some people who
only fall in love once,� Ginny said in a thoughtful voice. Harry heard a slight
scraping sound, as if she were drying a plate with a towel. �I�m one of them.
Yes, Harry doesn�t look at me. That doesn�t mean I need to look at other
people. I want to be in love with him, and if that ever changes, I don�t think
it�ll be my doing.�

Harry closed his eyes and stood
very still. Distantly, he could hear Hermione protesting, trying to reassure
Ginny that she could love someone else without being unfaithful to Harry, since
Harry had never given her anything to be unfaithful about, and Ginny�s calm
responses.

��

�� He wasn�t
in love with anyone. He never would be. By that point, he had accepted that
about himself.

�� Why
couldn�t he give Ginny what she wanted, and make her happy?

�� And he
would gain something, too�a loyal friend, someone who would be happy to be
married to him, someone who had shared a lot of the same experiences Harry had
and shared the same adopted family. That would be enough. Harry would have
wished for love and passion, sure, a grand romance like the one his parents had
had, but he wasn�t going to have it.

�� The only
reason to refuse would have been if he had thought his damage from Voldemort
would make him hurt Ginny�or if he couldn�t think of a way to get Ginny to
accept his proposal. But he had a plan for the proposal already, and he hadn�t
noticed any sign that Voldemort�s effect on him was really making him behave
strangely, except in that one way.

�� So he
opened the door and walked into the kitchen, pretended to ignore Hermione and
Ginny�s blushes and guilty looks, and picked up a towel to help as he�d
intended. Yes, they could have dried the dishes with magic, but this way let
them stay in each other�s presence longer.

�� And it let
Harry have a chance to give Ginny lingering glances and gentle smiles, while he
made sure their hands brushed as often as possible. By the end of the evening,
Ginny�s cheeks seemed permanently red and she stammered every time she spoke to
him.

�� Harry left
the house that evening with a smile. Ginny would be happy, and he would be
content. That was enough.

*

�� Are you sure
that you mean this, Harry? Because I couldn�t bear it if you didn�t.�

�� Harry
leaned forwards and took Ginny�s hands. She sat across the table from him, her
eyes burning with both hope and fear. Harry had made sure that he had many
candles lit before he invited Ginny to his house, and there was soft, rich food
on the table�ordered from the Leaky Cauldron, of course, but at least Harry had
chosen things he knew she would like. And there were glasses of wine, and a
moment ago, there had been kisses.

�� Ginny had
melted in his arms. But now she was sitting back in her chair, her gaze fixed
on him as if he were a mystery that she needed to solve. Harry rubbed her
knuckles gently and gave her the truth.

�� I want you
to marry me. I feel like I�ve always wanted that,� he added honestly. The times
that he hadn�t wanted that, he hadn�t wanted anything at all.

�� Ginny bit
her lip, trembled for a moment as though she would start forwards, and then
held herself back again. �But do you love
me?�

�� Harry
nodded. That was easy enough to say. Of course he loved Ginny, cared about her
welfare, and wanted her to be happy.

�� If she had
asked him about passion, now�

�� Harry
squirmed in his chair. Sometimes he felt as if he was lying to Ginny, but he
didn�t know what else he could do. She was miserable without him, and she would
condemn herself to loneliness if Harry didn�t marry her. He knew that. He also
knew, since he�d overheard her conversation with Hermione, that she had no
intention of changing her mind. So what other solution was there?

�� Ginny
lowered her eyes to the table and sat there studying the reflections of the
candles in the wood for a moment. �Can you say it?� she whispered.

�� Harry bent
his head to kiss her knuckles as he answered. �I love you,� he said, and said
it again after the first series of kisses. �I love you.� Another
series of them. �I love you��

�� Ginny rose
to meet him this time, hurling herself across the table and fastening her lips
on his.

�� Harry rose
with his arms around her neck, and escorted her towards the bed. He had always
known this evening was going to end there, unless Ginny refused him altogether
and stormed out the door. The only thing he was worried about was his lack of
passion for anyone. He had arousal potions that he could take, but he hoped
that he wouldn�t need them.

�� As it
turned out, it wasn�t a problem. Harry�s flesh responded to Ginny�s shy
touches, and he could make up for his slowness by the fervency of his kisses
and the intensity of the way he touched her.
Ginny shuddered and cried out soon enough, and then reached out for him as she
lay, panting, in the bed. Harry knelt beside it, smiling and licking his lips
as he watched her.

�� He had liked watching her come, he told
himself. Surely that had to mean something.

�� Come here,�
Ginny whispered.

�� Harry
shifted over and above her. She parted her legs eagerly, gazing up at him as
though he was a hero, a savior, her personal hero and personal savior. Harry
shuddered from the appeal and hope in her eyes, and slipped inside her more
tenderly than he had thought he would.

�� Yes, in a
way he was deceiving her. He didn�t feel the kind of love that she thought he
did; he wasn�t caught up in a whirlwind romance like his parents or nursing a
long crush like she was. But she didn�t have anything to worry about, because
Harry would be utterly faithful to her. He would never feel that romance or
crush for anyone else, and that meant he could settle for second best, while
making sure Ginny got the best.

�� And his
body found the sensation of sex pleasant enough, even if his brain still
thought it was nothing to write home about, and as they lay together
afterwards, panting, Ginny took his hand in hers and started whispering plans
for their future life together.

�� Harry found
that part the most pleasant of all.

*

�� Are you
sure that you want to do this, mate?�

�� Harry
blinked, turning around. He had spoken with Ron about proposing to Ginny
earlier that evening, and Ron had laughed and pounded him on the back as if his
dearest wish was coming true.�� George
had been full of good-will since he�d just proposed himself, and Bill, the only
other brother at the Burrow tonight, had practically crushed Harry�s hand with
his grip. Molly and Arthur were still wiping away tears. Harry had assumed
everything was settled.

�� But here
was Ron, his mouth set in tight lines. Harry moved aside so that he could lean
on the garden fence, too, but Ron didn�t. He just stood there, arms folded, his
stare boring holes through Harry.

�� Of course
I am,� Harry said. �You know that I broke up with her once. I wouldn�t have got
back together with her again if I wasn�t sure.�

�� It�s just
that�� Ron let his voice trail off and stared up at the stars. Harry looked up
with him, but couldn�t see anything special.

�� It�s just
that,� Ron went on, after a silence long enough that it had started to wear on
Harry�s nerves, �I never suspected you would come back to her. You ignored her
for so long. And then you started paying attention to her as though someone had
kicked you. Why?� He finally leaned an elbow on the fence, but only so he could
stare at Harry.

�� I thought
she would get over loving me,� Harry said, �and then I realized she wouldn�t.�
There. Simple enough, without getting into the way he was damaged from
Voldemort.

�� Ron waited.
Then he said, �So you�re only doing this for her?�

�� Harry shook
his head. �No. I love her, and there�s no one I�d rather marry.�

�� Ron waited
again. Harry scowled at him this time and shoved his hands into his robe
pockets. He didn�t like the questions Ron was asking him, because it made him start questioning things, and he
knew that couldn�t be good. He already knew nothing would change. This
inability to feel passion was just part of the price he had paid to defeat
Voldemort. It could have been a lot worse.

�� Ron sighed
and reached out to put a hand on Harry�s shoulder. �I was waiting for you to
fall in love like me and Hermione did, I reckon,� he said at last, his grin
breaking across his face. �I was waiting for some grand declaration of love and
explosion of passion. But you�re allowed to fall in love in other ways, too.�

�� Harry
grinned back at him, glad the dangerous moment was past. �It would be hard to
fall in love as dramatically as you two did. I�m not about to kiss Ginny before
a final battle against evil.�

�� That was
something, wasn�t it?� Ron said fondly, and then they started discussing
memories, standing in the Burrow�s garden, with a mild spring wind blowing past
them and the gentle spring stars above.

�� The door
finally opened, and Ginny and Hermione came out to find them. Hermione was
beautiful enough for a lot of people�s tastes, Harry
had to admit, stepping forwards with a smile on her face and her curly brown
hair blowing around her to take Ron in her arms.

�� But it was
Ginny Harry embraced, smaller than Hermione but fiercer, and hers was the
future he would join.

*

�� Cameras
flashed madly. Long red hair blew in the wind as Ginny tried to tuck her golden
veil over her face and stay in Harry�s arms at the same time. People laughed
and tossed spells at them that changed to showers of golden sparks and
good-luck tokens in mid-air. Harry could feel the bond between him and Ginny
pulsing like the purring belly of a cat.

�� It was his
wedding, and despite the press lining up along the borders of the Burrow�s
protected garden, Harry couldn�t be happier.

�� It had been
everything he ever dreamed of, to dress up in the golden robes and walk down an
aisle of smiling Weasley relatives to speak his vows to Ginny. The wizard
waiting to join them had beamed at him. Hermione was weeping, and yet trying to
give him last-minute advice through her tears. Molly had already made Harry
glad that the wedding robes weren�t white, because she would have covered his
with her tearstains if they were.

�� And Ginny�

�� Ginny had
waited for him, her head tilted back, her red hair tamed and coiled gently
around her neck under the silken hood. Her eyes were wide with longing and her
cheeks gently flushed. She had taken Harry�s hand when he came up beside her
and squeezed it, twice, under the edges of their robes where no one would see.

�� It was
everything he had ever dreamed of.

�� Now they
were running back down the aisle of Weasley relatives, and Ginny was laughing
and shaking her head as the golden light flew everywhere around them, and Harry
gave in to impulse�or the memory of a photograph in the album Hagrid had given
him�and snatched Ginny up in his arms.

�� She laughed
and clung to his neck. They couldn�t do anything today without laughing, and
that was fine with Harry. There used to be a time when he thought laughter was
over, the bleakest time of his life.

�� This was
the brightest.

�� Ginny in
his arms, Harry ran down the plush, scarlet carpet that had unfolded over the
grass, and past Ron and Hermione, jumping and waving madly, and Arthur trying
to hug them both at once, and Bill and Fleur with their two little girls on
their shoulders to see, and Charlie tossing them a dragon-shaped amulet that
Ginny snatched out of the air, and Molly shedding more tears than Harry had
realized could come from human eyes, and George and Angelina letting off
fireworks, and Percy looking awkward and smug, and the press clicking their
cameras, into the future.

�� It was
everything he had ever dreamed of.

�� Only later
did he realize that that wasn�t saying much. He didn�t have many dreams
anymore.

*

�� That was
the first step.
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Stepping Stones