Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 14
- 15
- 16
Part XV

Heaven�s Eyes

�So,� Ginny begins on Monday morning, smiling towards me from behind her teacup. �I thought I�d invite Ron and Hermione over for dinner tonight, now that Malfoy is finally leaving. You know, to share the big news?�
Her smile is sweet, but the forced softness in her voice cannot hide the loathing she feels for Malfoy. It is also more than obvious that my reaction to �the big news� haven�t exactly been what she expected.
What can I do? I�m ecstatic over becoming a father, truly. Terrified, but ecstatic. But my feelings for Draco cannot automatically transfer to Ginny because of the child she is carrying. I almost keep expecting it to happen, but it doesn�t. And I don�t think that it ever will. In truth, I didn�t want them to.
Until last night.

�I�m leaving tomorrow. She won�t know anything.�

I didn�t want to believe it. I still don�t. But I�m afraid, so unbelievably afraid that Draco was sincere about what he said.
For some reason he still thinks that I will choose Ginny over him. He wants to save himself the pain of being abandoned, he thinks it to be better to leave than to be left.
God, he is such a fool.
I want to talk to him, I need to talk to him. Convince him that he is wrong, that I will never choose Ginny over him. I had my doubts once, but they are long gone. Now I cannot imagine a life without him.
I have to talk to him.
�Potter, you ready?�
There he now stands in the doorway, suitcase in hand. And he is looking at me with a cold and indifferent gaze, as if he doesn�t know me. As if nothing has changed from our schooldays. Maybe nothing has. Maybe we are still controlled by situations that are out of our hands, maybe we still live our lives in the manner that we think is expected of us.
I�m so sick and tired of it all.
�Yeah, I�m ready,� I say, rising from my seat. Ginny catches me on my way to the door, giving me a quick peck on the lips. Malfoy doesn�t even blink, and I feel sick to my stomach.
Neither of us says a word as we step into the Floo.

******
�So, Mr Malfoy,� Judge Anthony Grachev says, eyeing a pile parchment on his desk. �In your report Mr Potter states that your behaviour has been exemplary during your 60 day probation. He seems to be convinced that you are to perfectly fit to enter back into society.�
The Judge leans his elbows down on his desk, his dark brown eyes peering at me from behind thick glasses. I lean back the uncomfortable chair, knowing my expression to be calm and collected even under the judge�s scrutiny.
�What do you think?� the man asks, a question I wasn�t quite expecting. It takes me a moment to find the words.
�I believe that I am ready to take my place in society,� I state confidently, holding my posture proudly. �I am not the person I was those years ago. I have learned my lesson, and I believe that I can contribute to making our world a better place.�
Beautiful words, truly. And a whole lot of crap. True, I have grown out of the person I was all that time ago. I believe I have changed. But what I can contribute to society has little to do with my will to do it, and more to do with other people�s will to accept me. �A better place�? Hardly. The riddance of Death Eaters from society doesn�t make what�s left of our world �good�. Most likely it will make it even worse.
When they have no one to unite against, people will only turn against each other. There must always be an enemy.
But naturally, the high and noble Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement doesn�t think like that. He nods approvingly at my answer, browsing through the pages of parchment before him again.
�Well then, Mr Malfoy, I believe that you deserve another chance,� he says after a long silence, reaching for a beautiful black quill on his desk and dipping it in a bottle of bright red ink. He places one of the documents on top of the pile, already pressing the quill to the parchment when he hesitates.
�Do see to it that you don�t make me regret my decision,� Grachev warns, giving me a pointed look. I don�t even bother to look affected by his speech, but merely lean back and watch the black quill scratch the sloppy traces of the Judge�s name onto the parchment.
Grachev gives the document a last look before handing both parchment and quill towards me. �Your signature and date here, please.�
I gaze over the document quickly. It�s all there, big words and complicated sentences warning me of Azkaban if I ever touch a wand or threaten another human being again. Lovely.
Swallowing a mirthless snort, I artfully scribble my name and the date on the left corner of the parchment before I hand it back to the Judge. He produces his wand from the desk drawer and quickly makes a copy of the document, handing the original to me.
�Here you go, Mr Malfoy,� he says, standing up from his seat. �You are now a free man.�
I rise from my own chair, shaking Grachev�s outstretched hand with one hand while clenching the document with the other.
�Thank you, sir,� I state, barely aware that I am speaking at all. As if in a dream I bid the Judge farewell and exit the room. The entire situation is almost too surreal for me to believe.
I am free. Utterly and completely free. For the first time in my entire life, I can do anything I want to, without anyone interfering.
�What did he say?� a clear voice asks me as I step through the door. And somehow freedom doesn�t taste quite as sweet as it should.
I turn towards Potter, fighting to keep my face neutral as I show him the document. �I�m free,� I croak, avoiding Potter�s gaze as best as I can.
�Really?� the Gryffindor exclaims, his face splitting into a broad smile. �That�s fantastic, Draco!� And suddenly the awkwardness that has lingered between us since last night is gone. He throws himself around my neck, capturing me in such a heartfelt embrace that I fear my heart will burst with joy. I almost begin to return the hug when I notice the strange look Judge Grachev�s secretary is giving us.
�Yeah, fantastic,� I murmur, pushing Potter away, my eyes locked on the floor. I can�t see Potter�s face, but his disappointment reeks like sulphur in the atmosphere. I feel as if I�m choking.
�Come on,� Potter says, his voice so harsh and demanding that I don�t even have the presence of mind to try and protest.

Why bother, anyway? I think as I follow him out of the Ministry and into the streets of Muggle London. Hard as it may be, we need to have this talk. I need to make my sentiments clear, once and for all.
We walk in silence down the street, Potter trying to come up with something to say, me desperately hoping that he won�t. Then suddenly out of nowhere he grabs me by the front of my coat, pulling me towards him in a fierce kiss. My suitcase slips out of my hand, and I hear it fall heavily onto the asphalt. People walk past us, appalled whispers echoing in the air, and the embarrassment almost overpowers my need to indulge myself one last time.
When he pulls away, I am overwhelmed with regret. I regret that I allowed the kiss last as long as it did. I regret that it cannot last longer.
�I want you,� he says simply, staring at me with brilliant green eyes aflame with desire and despair. �I want you to stay with me.�
�No,� I state quickly, before I give myself time to regret my words. �I�m leaving.�
�Why?� he asks, brow furrowed in frustration. �I promised you that I will leave Ginny? Why would you suddenly--�
�You need to stay with her,� I insist, looking away, unable to keep meeting his gaze. �She needs you. Your child needs you.�
Potter stares at me in stunned silence for a long while. Finally, I am forced to look up and take in his expression.
�You know?� he croaks, shocked and horrified.
�Yes, I know,� I confirm, fighting for my life to keep my voice and face in strict neutral indifference.
�And you think I should choose Ginny over you because of the child?� His voice is dull and monotone, and something in it awakes a sense of alarm in me. But in spite of the warning signals, I decide speak my mind.
�You will choose her,� I state clearly, commanding, trying desperately to leave him no room for objections.
But I am in no way prepared when Potter steps forward once more, grabbing my upper arms and pulling me violently towards him.
�And what do you think gives you the right to make that decision for me?!� he roars, his face mere inches from mine, his pulse beating so furiously I imagine I can hear the beating of his heart as he presses ever closer. It takes a moment for me to realise that I�m not breathing.
�It doesn�t matter what you choose!� I mutter breathily, breaking away from Potter�s grasp and standing back to stare at him with a disdainful gaze. �Either way, I will leave.�
All the anger seems to melt of Potter�s face with my words, and suddenly the man that stands before me seems so feeble and powerless that I barely recognise him.
�But why?� he asks weakly, his brows knitted and his shiny eyes warning of tears.
I shake my head, fighting to remain strong even as Potter breaks down before my eyes. �Because I�m tired of pretending that all of this will just magically go away if we want it enough.�
Potter stares at me in silence, his face expressing such devastation that my guilt makes me feel momentarily short of breath. But I press on, determined to drive him away, if I so have to hurt him in the process.
�I love you, you know that,� I state, amazed of how easily the words pass my lips these days. It might be a mistake to voice my feelings for him in this situation, but I have to say those words. This will be the last chance I have. �Just not enough to grow through all of this.�
Lying through my teeth, I try my best to look convincing. �I�m tired of fighting. I�m tired of being the enemy,� I say, hating myself more for every word I utter. �Now that I�m finally free, I just want to be left alone.�
It�s all a lie, of course. I would die for him, an outraged girlfriend and the crazy media be damned. And I will never be left alone, with or without the reputation of being the one to render Harry Potter gay.
But the words hit home, the anguish on Potter�s face too deep to be anything but true. It pains me how easily he believes my lies, how shallow he believes my feelings for him to be.
But I can mourn that later.
�I see,� Potter finally croaks, looking down at the ground. A sudden blow of regret and guilt makes me take a step forward, but I immediately stop myself from making any further movements. To amend my slip, I reach forward a formal hand. Potter stares at my hand wonder for a long moment before finally grabbing it.
�Thank you. For everything,� I state curtly, shaking his hand firmly. I then try to pull away, but Potter doesn�t let go. He holds on to my hand, staring at me intently for a long while.
�Don�t thank me,� he answers finally, his voice so raw I can barely make out the words. Feeling tears burn behind my eyes, I pull my hand back and reach down to lift up my suitcase. Smiling softly towards Potter one last time, I turn away for the last time.
His gaze burns on my back as I walk down the street, but I don�t look back. I have made the right decision, of that I am certain.
He loved Ginny once. It will not take much to reawaken old feelings. She is one of his kind, a Gryffindor, a Weasley. She is his family.
So I am leaving. I�m ending this. I�m torn inside between what I desire and what I know is right, but I won�t condescend to a fight.
I want for him to be happy with his family. And if that�s what it takes for me to be able to back away, I will tell myself that she will love him more than I ever could have.
Of course, it is a lie. If I had had the right, I would have loved him more than anyone. If there had been a place for us, in another time, I would have held on to him and never let go. But this is not that time, not that place.
People will continue to judge me for my deeds, probably for the rest of my life. And that with good right. I have killed and savaged, lived on the outside of the law and the general concept of morals. But I have loved and lost like any man, hero or thief.
I have not been a saint. But even if no one will ever know it, I have redeemed my sins. Although the knowledge will only ever remain between Potter and me, I have atoned for some of what I have done. I have given back what I took, parted from what means most to me.
I think the regret of that should count for something in the eyes of Heaven.

******

�Harry?�
Ginny�s voice sounds to me as soon as I step out of the Floo. Cursing silently to myself, I do everything I can to keep my tears back as I walk into the kitchen. There I find Ginny, Ron and Hermione, all gathered around the breakfast table.
�Did they let Malfoy go?� Ginny asks expectantly, looking past my shoulder as if afraid that she might see a blond head appear behind me.
My eyes meet Hermione�s, who is staring at me with confusion and sympathy. And I hate her in this moment. Who is she to pity me, who is she to try to understand what I have gone through? Who is she to try and ease my pain over something that I brought on to myself?
�Yeah,� I say, horrified over how broken my voice sounds.

I am the last person here who deserves any sympathy.

�Yeah, he�s gone.�

End of part XV.
- 14
- 15
- 16
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Salt in Our Wounds