Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

You Set Fire to the Rain	By : icicle33 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 11826 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter characters or any part of the HP fandom or universe. This story is written purely for pleasure and no money is be made from it. None at all.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
Warnings: No warnings for this chapter.

Author's note: Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed, especially unneeded!

Once again, thank you to my lovely betas, and as always, feedback is encouraged. It makes my day!

Enjoy.

: :Seventeen: :

"He, who had done more than any human being to draw me out of the caves of my secret, folded life, now threw me down into deeper recesses of fear and doubt. The fall was greater than I had ever known, because I had ventured so far into emotion and had abandoned myself to it." ~AN [17]

: : :

I don't how long I remained outside that day. I ran and ran until I was deep into the heart of the forest and just sat underneath a tree, feeling ashamed and sorry for myself, not even caring that I was only wearing a soggy pair of gym shorts.

Things had finally gotten better—I had a real life now, free from the intrusive press, a real family, and you and I were developing a close friendship. Certainly, things weren't perfect—I have grown to accept that life never is, but they were as close to perfect as they had ever been for me.

Sadly, in typical Harry Potter style, I fucked up.

Maybe you were right all those years ago. Perhaps I am just an idiot Gryffindor, who never thinks things through and jumps headfirst into things without ever considering consequences. I wanted to think that I had outgrown that phase of my life—that I was an adult now.

Obviously not.

: : :

When I made it back home, it was late, really late.

It was Friday night after all, so I figured that you had decided to go out and pick up a couple of girls to rid yourself of the infamous Potter germs that you had inhaled. I was thankful that there weren't any lights on in your room, but as I tiptoed past the living room trying to make it to my room without being seen, Andromeda spotted me. Damn.

"Hold it right there, mister," she said. "Come here and explain where you've been and why you aren't wearing a shirt?"

"Uh."

She started tapping her foot. "I'm waiting."

"Well, uh—I went for a swim and uh—lost my clothes."

"Harry," she warned, not believing a word of my transparent lie.

I sat down on the floor by her feet, not wanting to dirty her furniture and ran a hand through my knotted hair.

"Wait a minute," I said frowning, "how come I have to answer all these questions? Draco is gone at all hours of the day and night and you never question him."

Andromeda scrunched her lips into a tight line. "Harry, dear, this is about you, not Draco."

"No, it's not. We're the same age. I want the same rules." I knew that I sounded like a snotty, ungrateful brat, but I was in a foul mood and didn't feel like dealing with anyone right then, not even Andie.

"Oh, Harry," she said sighing, "You can't hide anything from me, love. It's obvious you're upset. Just please tell me what's wrong. I promise I won't judge you."

I bowed my head and started talking. "Fine, Andie," I said, pretending the dirt on my feet was interesting. "Well, what if you knew there was someone that you cared about, you know romantically, but you weren't allowed to be with them?"

Andie eyed me warily, but her eyes were kind. "Go on," she urged. "Who doesn't want you to be with them?"

"Society. Everyone!" I sighed and bit down on my lip. Apparently, I was taking up your nervous habits as well. "I don't know. What—what if it's wrong to love this person?"

Andie leaned over from her chair and put her hands on my shoulders. "Harry," she said, her voice serious, "it's not ever wrong to love someone. Love is a beautiful thing."

I bit my lip again and looked at her."But—you just wouldn't understand, Andie. This is different."

Andromeda shook her head at me, her long hair swaying. "Oh child, think about what you're saying." Her hands were still on my shoulders and she squeezed them affectionately. "Think about my life, whom I married. No one understands better than I do."

I bowed my head further and covered my face with my hands. I was such an idiot. Of course, Andie would understand; she had gone through a similar situation with her late husband, Ted.

"Right," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "I'm sorry how could I forget?"

"It's fine, child," she assured me. "Just explain the problem to me."

"I-I care about someone," I said, still avoiding Andie's gaze, "that others wouldn't be happy about. I'm not even sure the other person would be happy about it."

Andie took her hands off my shoulders and lifted my chin up as she always did when she wanted to tell me something serious. "Harry," she said, her voice soft, tender, "you are blessed with a loving family who only wants the best for you. We never want you to be unhappy." She paused and kissed me on the forehead. "Anyone you love, child, I will love too."

"I-I" My face was flushing hot again; I really had to learn to conceal my embarrassment better. "But—what if it's uh...uh..."

I gulped and looked Andie straight in the eye. I knew what I wanted to say, but how could I tell this sweet, old-fashioned woman that I was in love with a bloke, and not just any bloke, her nephew?

"What if it's a man?" Andie asked, her face calm and eyes kind. I gulped again; how could she know? There was no way that she could know about you. Was it that obvious?

"I-I. NO!" My shoulders were shaking now and my bottom lip quivering.

"Harry," she tried again, her voice soft and compassionate, "it's okay, if it is. Love is beautiful, child, no matter whom you love."

"No," I said again, my voice firmer this time.

"The heart can't help who it loves," she insisted.

"Well, you're wrong," I cried, whinging as if I were no older than Teddy.

She looked at me, pain evident in her usually serene eyes, and kissed me on the forehead again. "That's fine, child," she said. "Just remember what I said. No matter whom you love, no matter what you do, I will always love you. You will always be my son."

Silent tears were streaming down my face, and I wrapped my arms around this wonderful woman, holding her so tightly that I'm impressed she didn't complain. I didn't deserve her kindness and understanding, but most of all, I didn't deserve to be her son. I had always wanted a mother my entire life; it was my fondest dream, my longest wish, and although I've had various mother figures throughout my life, mainly Hermione and Mrs Weasley, it just never felt right. They were wonderful women, just not my mother. But at that moment, engulfed in Andromeda's arms, it felt right; I felt whole. For the first time in my life—I had a mother—a mother who would love me unconditionally.

"Thanks Mum," I said with a weak smile. "Thank you for everything."

"It's nothing," she said, wiping the tears from my eyes. "Why don't you go put on some clothes now? I don't want you catching a cold."

"Yes, Mum."

"And Harry," she said as I was walking away, "you know, that idiot of a nephew of mine, he has this habit of just pretending that he likes to be alone sometimes. He's just like his mother that way."

"Okay," I said, not really understanding what Andie was trying to tell me.

"I know the two of you have been getting along. And although he might not say it, he values your friendship very much." She paused for a moment and smiled. "He's wanted it all his life. And if you don't make the effort to show him that he's an idiot and you value it too, he'll just keep pushing you away."

"Okay," I said again, still not understanding Andie's point.

"I do care for his friendship. Very much."

"Well, then you should go meet him. This town hasn't changed much since I was a girl, and if I know my nephew, he's at that bar, Le Petite Éclair. Everyone goes there on Fridays."

I furrowed my forehead and looked at Andie."Oh, I don't know. I wouldn't want to impose. We...erm...had a disagreement." Well, that was putting it lightly.

Andie shook her head at me again. "That's all the more reason to go, love. Just trust me on this. Draco's a good lad...whatever it is...he'll understand."

I nodded at Andie. "Thanks. I'll think about it."

: : :

I don't know why I did it.

Looking back now, it was one of the many poor decisions I made that summer, but somehow, I had let Andie talk me into going to see you.

Quickly, I showered and put on that silk green shirt that you had loaned me the first time we went out and my nicest pair of jeans. I was annoyed when I noticed that the shirt felt a lot tighter than the first time I had worn it at the beginning of the summer, but perhaps it was just my imagination. Either way, I looked as nice as possible, handsome even. Before leaving, I had a makeshift dinner of various sweets since I had missed dinner and a couple of shots of firewhisky. For some reason, French pastries always seemed to comfort me and the firewhisky would give me courage. I didn't know what I was going to say when I saw you, but I hoped that the words would come to me. All I knew was that I was going to plead insanity and beg you to forgive me. Although Andie's words had been kind, she had no idea that I was in love with you, and you were hopelessly straight.

Christ, you went home with a different tart every night; there was no way that you could ever be interested in me. Still, having you in my life as a close friend, as a member of my family, was better than not having you at all.

When I got to the bar, I was confident; it appeared that those shots of firewhisky had done the trick. If only I had some Felix Felicis on hand. I asked the hostess where you were and she motioned to your usual table. I strutted over there with my head held high, ready to grovel at your feet if necessary, but my jaw dropped when I got close to your table. I hid behind a nearby table and once again started to spy on you.

I had assumed that you would be sitting there surrounded by beautiful girls, but instead you were sitting there chatting animatedly with two rather fit blokes. They were dressed in stylish clothes resembling yours and had that snobbish upper class look about them; they were obviously French and not even all that good looking on closer inspection, not compared to you.

I had no idea what you were saying because it was in French, but the one dark haired bloke was leaning in way too close to you and put his large hand on top of yours. I didn't like it one bit, and I liked it even less when I saw you flash your most dazzling smile at him. He grabbed you by the arm and started dragging you across the bar. After there was an adequate distance between us, I followed.

He had dragged you outside to the adjacent alley and was trying to be suave and ask you for a cigarette. What a lame fucking pick up line, that smarmy git. Luckily, he was speaking English now. Apparently, it was only the other bloke who didn't speak any English. You smiled at him again and said that you had left your cigarettes back inside—that you must be a bit pissed. You offered to go get them, but instead he grabbed you by the arm and pushed you against the wall.

"I have a better idea," he croaked, and then he smashed his lips against yours, his filthy mouth devouring yours.

Normally, you would think that I would have felt immense rage and jealousy—that my insatiable chest monster would be clawing its way out.

But I didn't.

Instead, I felt an intense pain that stabbed me deep in the chest and left me breathless. It was as if I had been betrayed in the worst possible way.

The two of you broke your passionate kiss, and then the bloke dropped to his knees and started unbuttoning your trousers. I knew what was coming next, and as much as I wanted to see your cock, as many times as I had fantasised about how thick and pink it must be; the last thing I wanted was to see it like this. My stomach was threatening to empty itself, the beignets and éclairs I ate for my belated dinner ramming their way up my throat. I needed to get out of there; if I stayed any longer, I was going to be sick.

I Apparated out of the alley and never looked back.

: : :

To be continued...

A/N: I'm sorry this chapter isn't as long as I wanted, but I have been feeling rather sick these last couple of days and couldn't force myself to write anymore. I'll try to have another one up in the next few days. What did you think of the scene with Andie and Harry? Originally, I wasn't going to include it, but I thought it was necessary. Good choice or not? Once again, try to remember that not everything is as it seems. That's all I'll say.

Until next time,

[17] The quote at the beginning of the chapter is by Anaïs Nin. It doesn't belong to me in any way nor do I take credit for it.

~Icicle

Review responses:

unneeded: Yeah, Harry is brave in every way except for in his personal relationships. He's scared to death of his feelings, but luckily for him Draco has learned to be a little braver since his school days.
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You Set Fire to the Rain