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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
- 12
- 13
- 14
Part XIII

Burn Your Life Down

�Coffee?�
He nods absentmindedly, shooting me a small smile when I furrow my brow at him. Then he looks back down at the newspaper. His eyes are pinned to the pages but he isn�t really reading, and his foot taps anxiously against the floor. I hate him for being so nervous.

It�s Saturday morning, and we are having breakfast just like any other day. Except that this is the day when Potter bothered to get dressed before 2 pm. The day he woke up an hour earlier to change the sheets in the master bed.
This is the day when Ginny Weasley is coming home.
�What time is it?� Potter asks for the seventh time within forty-five minutes. I gaze over at the old clock on the wall behind him.
�Eleven minutes past ten,� I mutter, staring with dread at the minute hand, indicating that the Weaslette should have walked through the door half an hour ago. �Now twelve.�
�Wonderful,� Potter grits forth, a shudder travelling through his body. The silence builds slowly up around us again, but the atmosphere is everything but calm.
We both jump loudly at the sound of the front door opening. I shoot a look at Potter, who looks so terrified that I�m almost concerned that me might pass out.
�Harry?� a soft voice calls out, and the sound of someone moving around in the entrance hall reaches the room.
Potter stands up, looking at me uncertainly for a minute before he takes a deep breath and walks out into the hall.
�Hi, Ginny,� I hear him utter, his voice not as shaky as I had feared.
�Oh, Harry, I missed you so much!� Ginny exclaims, and then the air is quiet for a moment. I feebly try to place my coffee cup onto its saucer without the porcelain clucking together as I think about the two of them kissing behind that wall. It is only when Potter speaks again that I release a breath I didn�t even realise I was holding.
�How was your trip?�

�Oh, it was fine,� I hear Ginny say sweetly, rustling with her things. �The train was pretty much empty so I could sleep through most of the trip.� She laughs. �As a flying instructor I have little tests or essays to correct, so there was little else to do.�
Then I hear them step into the doorway of the kitchen, and the Weaslette quiets down abruptly. Slowly I look up from my coffee, meeting the red-headed woman�s gaze steadily but with little interest.
�Good morning,� I state politely, suppressing the urge to grin superiorly at the girls poor attempt to hide her disdain.
She swallows loudly, her surprise evident on her face. I guess hearing about a Malfoy living in one�s house is different from actually seeing him sitting by your kitchen table eating breakfast. I�m positive she had completely forgotten I would be here.
It will make irritating her even more enjoyable.
�Hello, Malfoy,� Ginny finally mutters, her eyes fleeing towards Potter, asking for help. As if he could get rid of me before my probation is over. As if he wanted to.
Potter clears his throat. �Ginny, you know Malfoy,� he says, gesturing offhandedly towards me before he makes his way towards the kitchen cabinets. �Would you care for some coffee?� He raises an eyebrow at Ginny, who casts a sour glance at me before she turns back to Potter and nods.
�Sure.�
As Potter turns to rustle through the cabinet, the Weaslette moves to sit down by the table, on the chair opposite of me, as far away as possible. I stifle the urge to snort out loud.
Potter returns to the table with a cup for the girl, putting it down on the table in front of her as he takes a seat his chair. The protracting silence is as so uncomfortable that it grows simply ridiculous. I make the most of it by keeping my eyes locked at the Weaslette, who looks around the room and does everything in her power not to look straight at me. Potter simply keeps gaping like a goldfish, opening his mouth every other second to break the silence, and closing it the next when he realises that he has nothing to say.
Finally, I grow tired of the charade and rise from my seat. �Well, as much fun as this reunion has been, I think I�ll retire now,� I drawl, raising a wicked eyebrow at Potter before I talk out of the kitchen. Desperate to find something to take my mind of that sodding wench in the kitchen, I slump down onto the living room couch and turn on the TV, pushing the volume-button until the sound of the Old Bailey blowing up drowns out the Weaslette�s voice.
Dratted Weasleys.

******
�How long is he going to stay here?� Ginny asks almost immediately after Draco leaves the room, not even bothering to keep her voice down.
I swallow, my mouth feeling instantly dry. �Tomorrow is the last day of his probation. On Monday I�ll go with him to the Ministry, and then he will be free.�
Ginny opens her mouth to answer just as a the loud symphony of Tchaikovsky sounds through the wall. She turns to stare at me in shock. �Is that the TV?�
I nod, chuckling slightly. �Yeah. He�s watching V for Vendetta again. Draco loves when they blow up the Houses of Parliament.� It takes me a minute to realise and regret the affection in my voice, and the fact that I just used Draco�s given name in front of Ginny. She stares at me with a peculiar expression for a moment, but when I play oblivious she just turns away and sighs, shaking her head softly as she takes a sip of her coffee.
�I still can�t believe they let him go,� she says in disbelief. Looking up at me, she furrows her brow. �I still can�t believe you defended him, Harry.�
I feel a slight flush spread on my face, but I take a deep breath and shrug dismissively. �You knew my opinion on the matter,� I state, almost reprimanding her for trying to pretend that my choice to defend Draco was a surprise to her. �I always said I would defend him in court if it came to that.�
�Yes,� Ginny admits, not looking too pleased about the matter. �But I never thought you would actually volunteer to have him live here. In our house!�
She talks as if Draco is invading out privacy, her privacy. As if she�s even here most time of the year.
But naturally, I do not mention that to her. I would like to preserve the peace, at least until I am forced to do otherwise.
�Let�s not fight about this now,� I sigh, taking a deep breath to calm myself. �It will be over anyway in two days.�
Ginny nods forcedly, before flashing me a bright smile. �You�re absolutely right,� she says, leaning forward to give me a quick peck on the lips. I compel myself to return her smile.

Yes, in two days, this will all be over. Just not quite as she thinks.

******

No day has never seemed so excruciatingly long.
I hate lying to Ginny. I hate it when she reaches out for my hand and smiles at me, her features nothing but affection. I hate it when she leans in to kiss me, and I hate the fact that it disturbs me so greatly while I am still forced to return it.
And what I hate most is that Draco is forced to see it all.
There is no escaping the situation. The house is too small for me to get away from Ginny for even a minute, or for Draco to hide away for too long. In truth, I don�t want to let him hide away. Selfish as I am, I�d rather have all of us suffer through the discomfort of being in the same room, than being forced to be alone with Ginny for too long.
I can�t be alone with her. I can�t indulge her without feeling more like I�m cheating on Draco than I already do, and I can�t deny her without rousing her suspicions. The old adage �You made your bed, now you have to lie in it� crosses my mind, and if possible it makes me feel even worse.
When the day draws nearer to night, my trepidation grows almost unbearable. As painfully uncomfortable as this day has been, what comes next can be no less than a thousand times worse.
In my entire life I have not once broken up with anyone. And I have certainly never had to tell someone I cheated on them. But the more I think about it, the more only one question repeats itself in my mind:
Is there any way to gently break someone�s heart?
Not long after sundown Draco excuses himself, casting me a last comforting glance before retiring to his room. It gives me some strength, the knowledge that after the horrors of tonight I will have something good to return to warming my stomach. Still, my heart beats furiously, the drumming so loud I my own ears that I�m afraid even Ginny will hear it.
For a moment we keep watching Who Wants to be a Millionaire? in silence, until I finally seem to gather my strength.

I have to tell her now. There is no way out.

It will be horrible. She will scream, cry, throw things� Most likely she will also call me a dirty fag, and there will be no way of asking her to keep the issue from the press. Honestly, I have no right to expect that of her.
�Ginny, I--�
�Harry, there is something I have to tell you,� Ginny blurts out, cutting me off abruptly. Disappointed and relieved at the same time, I try to look at least somewhat interested.
�What is it?� I ask, almost grateful for the diversion she has provided me with. It allows me to postpone the awaking of her wrath for a little while further.
A blush spreads on Ginny�s face, and she fidgets in her seat.
�I was very uncomfortable thinking about Malfoy living here,� she professes, scrounging her nose as she looks at me. �But there was another reason I chose to take a weekend off.�
I knit my brow in concern, suddenly feeling very uneasy for reasons having little to do with my own personal guilt.
�Are you alright?� I ask, afraid she might have had an flying accident of some sort. Or perhaps the taunting of her students has grown unbearable.
�I�m fine,� Ginny smiles brightly, her blush spreading further over her nose. �Perfect.�
She takes a deep breath, reaching forward to grab my hand in both of hers, a brilliant smile still lighting up her face. �Harry, I�m pregnant.�

******

This is probably the worst time for me to let my Slytherin qualities get the best of me. I should give Potter some privacy, at least for the moment when he breaks up with his girlfriend. But upon leaving the living room, I can�t seem to compel myself to walk any further. The temptation of hearing Potter leave that Weasley twit for me is just too great.
Besides, I�m a Malfoy. Who expects me to have any morals, anyway?
They are silent for a long time, all I hear is the sound of the TV. I chuckle silently, thinking that those two ever had a solid relationship. One couldn�t find any heat there if they were lit on fire.
�Ginny, I--� Potter finally begins, but at the exact same time the Weaslette decides to speak.
�Harry, there is something I have to tell you,� she says shyly, efficiently silencing Potter. I curse him for being such a wuss.
�What is it?� he asks, but the concern isn�t too convincing.
The Weaslette speaks again. �I was very uncomfortable thinking about Malfoy living here,� she professes, and it is all I can do not to snort out loud. �But there was another reason I chose to take a weekend off.�

Yeah, right. She really just wanted to check up on Potter.

�Are you alright?� Potter asks, his anxiousness slightly more believable now. I find it ironical that he needs to make sure he is alright, just so he can break her heart.
�I�m fine,� the Weaslette says lightly, her voice bright with happiness. Such happiness that it suddenly makes me very uneasy. �Perfect.�
I don�t have time to prepare myself for whatever might come before she speaks again. Not that anything could prepare me for the words I hear next.
�Harry, I�m pregnant.�

I can�t breathe.

End of part XIII
- 12
- 13
- 14
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Salt in Our Wounds