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Salt in Our Wounds	By : thewickednix Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 7362 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters portrayed herein. This is made for fun, not profit.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Part XII

Outlaw Heart

�You have to end it, Harry. You have to end it with Malfoy, or you have to tell Ginny. You have to tell her, or I will,� Hermione says, her eyes blazing.
She is right. I admit it. But I can�t help but hate her for it.
�I will,� I spit back, clenching my fists. �I�ll tell her when she comes home next week.�
Hermione stares at me with great disbelief, her brown eyes wide in shock. I don�t think she ever thought I would choose Draco over Ginny. I don�t think I ever thought I would do it myself, before the words now leave my mouth. And suddenly it is that simple, that easy to make the decision.
�You�re really going to stay with Malfoy?� Hermione utters, looking like she could be knocked over with a feather.
�Yes,� I state defiantly. It�s amazing how relieved I feel, even in this most uncomfortable situation, just knowing that I have made up my mind. Made the right decision.
Although the hard part is still ahead.
Hermione stares at me quietly for a long while. I stand silently challenging her, waiting for the inevitable explosion.
It never comes.
Finally Hermione sighs, drawing in an uneven breath as she runs a hand through her hair. The resentment in her eyes turns to worry and distress, something that disturbs me even more than the enmity.
�I really hope that you know what you�re doing,� she says quietly, clenching her jaw furiously. Then she casts me a last anxious glance, before she walks swiftly out through the door and into the hall. For a moment I want to apologize, for this, for everything, ask Hermione if we can forget this fight and be the best of friends again.
But it is too late for that. Things that have been said and done can�t be taken back, and we can never be like we were before. Frozen in place, I stand still until I hear my friend Flooing away.

******

It seems like ages before I hear Potter making his way up the stairs. His talk with the Mudblood lasted a long time. I hope they worked things out. Or not. If he solves his problems with his friends, they will soon make him see that I don�t belong in his life. Which he will eventually figure out by himself, too. But I�d like to keep pretending for as long as I can.
But I look up as Potter enters the room, and realise that he has most certainly not solved his issues with Granger. Dragging his feet, his brow knitted in contemplation, he looks almost like after his last row with Weasley and Granger.
Throwing the book I was reading onto the nightstand, I crawl over the bed towards him. �What happened?�
Potter sighs deeply, his shoulders slouching as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed. I lean against his back, gently wrapping my arms around his chest as I wait for him to speak. But when he blurts out the words, I am in no way prepared.
�Hermione knows.�
My stomach drops and I feel my heart grow cold. Knows? The Mudblood knows about us? I�m glad that Potter can�t see my horror-stricken face now as I breathe into his neck, trying not to hyperventilate.
�You told her?� I croak, unable to keep my voice in check.
�She guessed,� he answers, leaning his head back to rest at my shoulder, a tired groan escaping him. �She told me she would tell Ginny if I didn�t leave you or tell her myself.�
He utters the words so simply, talking with such gut-wrenching honesty about out situation that I feel sick. With trepidation I wait for the conclusions following that sentence, the words that will determine my entire future. Fighting to breathe calmly, I only hope that my heart doesn�t beat its way out of my chest. �What did you tell her?�
For a long moment he stays quiet, no doubt wondering what to say. With each passing minute I feel my anxiousness grow, each second becoming more certain that this is it. This is how it ends.
�I told her that I choose you.�
The words are spoken so softly that it takes a moment for me to react, and even then I am uncertain if Potter really spoke or if the words were just a product of my hopeless desire to hear them.
But then Potter moves his hand atop of mine, still resting on his chest, sighing deeply again. �I want you.�
He shifts in his position, moving away from my touch to turn and look at me. Licking his lips nervously, he stares at me pleadingly, hoping, wishing. �I want you, Draco. Now and forever. If� if you�ll have me?�
There is little I can do or say through my astonishment. My jaw falls open, and I feel my eyes grow glassy, unshed tears building up behind them. Blinking furiously, I have to look away. I swallow loudly, staring down at the floor as the silence builds around us.
I have ran away enough, played enough games for a lifetime. If I�ll have him? Is he kidding? Refusing him once was hard enough. Does he really think I could do it again?
I look back up, meeting green eyes now filled with concern and doubt. And I want to answer him, reassure him. But there are no words for this feeling, this kind of happiness. So I simply let a smile spread onto my face, enthralled when I see the relief spread in Potter�s eyes. He throws his arms around me, his lips sealed onto mine as we fall back onto the bed.
He straddles me as I proceed to tear at his clothes, my breaths heavy against his mouth. I want him, need him to complete this sensation that his words have set in action. I need to see him as corrupted by this as I am, I need to get under his skin and make this moment real.
Right now I just can�t believe it.
�I want you.� Potter repeats the words huskily against my lips as I rip his shirt of him and move to tug at his jeans. �I need you, Draco.�
His words make my head spin and I swiftly grow desperate, throwing Potter to the side and reversing our positions, landing me on top of him. He gasps at the sudden movement, but relaxes immediately, spreading his legs to accommodate mine between them.
I tug his jeans down his hips and he wriggles out of them, soon lying nakedly sprawled over the bed, his skin so pale against the blue sheets. My cock twitches almost painfully at the sight, resisting against the cloth of my pants. Swallowing moan, I pull my T-shirt over my head and toss it to the side before I move to unbutton my trousers.
�Draco�� Potter moans alluringly, stretching on the bed, his muscles straining beautifully. He Accios the lube from the nightstand drawer, reaching it towards me just as I manage to kick my trousers to the side.
Quickly I prepare him, loving to see him writhe beneath me, his face twisted in pleasure. He bites his lip violently, groaning loudly as I pull out my fingers and grab the lubricant once more, coating myself with the translucent ointment.
He looks up at me, his eyes barely open and his chest rising and lowering irregularly. �I love you, Draco.�
I smile to myself, grabbing his hips and placing myself against his entrance. �I love you, too.�
And I push in hard, causing Potter to cry out violently under me. I gasp at the tight heat, feel my legs tremble from the restraint. Potter fists the sheets in a desperate act to grab on to something, anything as I begin to move inside him, pounding into him ever harder, ever faster on his command.
This is how it should be. This is where I belong. In almost painful ecstasy I feel my sense heightened, I can feel every inch of Potter pressed against me, I can hear every breath he makes, every beat of his heart. Nothing is more simple and more complicated than the raw beauty of this moment in time.
I am almost forced to regret the resplendence, because I know that for every high, there is a low. This moment will not last forever, and neither will we. But for all that notion is worth, right now I cannot seem to care. All I need to know, think, and feel, is Potter.
And all else can be damned. For now.

******
�She�s coming home?�
My voice is laced with disbelief and ill disguised dismay. Potter glances at me, and abashed blush gracing his features.
�She owled me a couple of days ago, saying she�ll be home for the weekend next week.�
�I see.�
Actually, I shouldn�t be surprised. With all the rumours circling around my residing here, I�m amazed that she hasn�t made the journey earlier. Although teaching at Hogwarts, I guess it�s not so easy. A sudden disappearance would only have put more fuel in the fire for the rumours.
So, I�m going to be made a guest in this house again. For the last weekend of my probation, nonetheless.
�I�ll be moving down to the guest room, then,� I state sourly, scowling as I think about the Weaslette taking my place in Potter�s bed.
Potter snorts humorously, but the uncomfortable blush remains on his face. �It�s only temporary.� He leans over, kissing me softly on the lips before reaching for the Bristol Evening Post. Just to have something to focus on so he won�t have to look me in the eye, I gather. �She�ll only be here a couple of days before she goes back to Hogwarts. I will tell her then,� he assures me, offering a small smile. �I just need some time.�
He is kidding himself. Time is not given and time is not taken, not by us, not by anyone. It is delusional to think so. But naturally, I cannot tell him that. I do not want to. I want to believe that if he can keep himself in the dark, maybe he can keep me there too. Because this last peaceful week might be the last we have.
When Potter tells the Weaslette, all Hell will break loose.

End of part XII
- 11
- 12
- 13
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Salt in Our Wounds