Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Let Me Be Your Voice	By : Queenie_Mab Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 8661 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations from Harry Potter, created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers: Bloomsbury, Scholastic, and Warner Bros. No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended

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At dinner at the Burrow that night, Harry wasn’t hungry. He pushed a chunk of his beef stew around the bottom of his bowl with his spoon.

“That was a very noble thing you did today, Harry,” Mr. Weasley said from the head of the table.

Harry looked up at the Weasley patriarch, noticing that his receding red hair had greyed significantly in the past month.

Ron grunted as he chewed, not looking at Harry. Harry knew Ron and Hermione did not hold the same sentiments regarding Malfoy as he did, but he didn’t have the energy to argue with them.

“I thought it was big of you, too,” Ginny said quietly from her place beside her mother. Mr. Weasley had been present at the trial and had filled the family in as to how it had gone earlier in the day. “I mean, Malfoy is a royal git, but you’re right to want to give him the chance Dumbledore offered him.”

Having Ginny agree with him didn’t please Harry in the way he had expected it to. Instead, hearing her speak reminded him of what they had put on hold, and he wasn’t keen to have the conversation with her that he knew was coming.

Walking to his own death had made him realise exactly how precious life was, and his priorities had changed since he’d come back from it alive. He wanted to live now, really live his own life, the way he wanted, the way he was meant to, and unfortunately Ginny wasn’t a close part of the future he now envisioned.

He put down his spoon and scooted his chair away from the table. “Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Weasley,” he said quietly. “I think I’m going to try and get some rest now.”

Mrs. Weasley smiled at him kindly, though he saw the worry in her eyes, probably because he hadn’t eaten much. “Of course, dear,” she said. “If you get hungry in the night, feel free to wake me up; I’ll fix you something.”

He smiled feebly, thankful for her thoughtfulness, but longing to get away from people. He needed some time to process all the events that had been weighing on him, but first he needed to rest.

As he headed down the hall to Fred and George’s old room where he was staying, he heard footsteps on the stairs behind him and silently cursed his luck.

“Harry?” Ginny’s voice spoke in the dimly-lit hall.

He stopped and waited for her to catch up to him.

“Yeah,” he said, resigned. “What’s up, Gin?”

“Can I talk to you a moment?” she asked, her expression determined.

“Of course,” Harry said, forcing himself to keep from grimacing, and continued to his room, with Ginny at his heels.

They sat side by side on the edge of one of the twin beds. The room was lit by a pair of gas lamps mounted on the wall, and was empty but for a few boxes of Fred’s belongings George had brought home for the family to go through when they were ready.

“So…” Harry started, his discomfort rising.

“You know what I want to ask you, Harry,” Ginny said bluntly. “I’m only wondering why it has to be me to bring it up. Has something changed with us? Why have you avoided talking to me?”

Harry wrinkled his forehead, shutting his eyes for a moment. He wasn’t sure how to put what he needed to tell her without hurting her feelings or ruining his relationship with her family.

“Look at me, Harry,” Ginny said sharply. “I know something’s going on in your head that you need to say to me. I’m here; I’m listening, so you may as well get on with it.”

She sounded resolute. It made Harry feel more horrible than before.

“I … I don’t want to get back together, Gin,” he said finally, looking her in the eye, seeing the defiance reflected back at him.

“I see,” she said, mouth drawn in frustration. “Am I going to find out why? Is it another bone-headed nobility thing about wanting to keep me safe?”

“No,” Harry answered. He swallowed, tasting the bitterness in his mouth. “You’re right; something has changed.” He stopped, thinking how to put what he had to say into proper words.

Ginny waited for him to continue, not speaking, not rushing him, and not crying. He appreciated her strength now more than ever.

“I was ready to die,” he began slowly. “I was walking to meet my own death with open arms, and I was incredibly thankful we had the time we did together. I realised how much life meant to me when I knew death was coming. I felt my soul fighting to live, and now...” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Now that I’ve come back from it... Now that I’ve fulfilled my purpose, and walked the path that was laid out for me so long ago, I realised it’s time for me to learn to live for who I am, and not who others think I should be. I can’t be with you any more. I love you; I do, but I’m … I’m not the person everyone thinks I am. I mean, I’m still me, but … there’s just something I’ve got to face if I’m ever going to be true to myself.”

He watched her take in his words, unable to read what she was thinking.

She looked back into his eyes, a searching look, like she was trying to see if she could read him as well.

“Right,” she said finally. “This secret, has it been a secret long, or is it something that happened to you since we were together?” Her voice had grown cold. It had a sharp edge to it that Harry really didn’t like to hear directed at him.

Harry was quiet a minute. He found it hard to look Ginny in the eye, but forced himself. “It’s always been a part of me,” he confessed, “but I tried to change. It’s something about who I am that I’ve denied my whole life, but I just can’t any more.”

“Kiss me,” Ginny demanded suddenly, her voice taking on a no-nonsense, no-questions sort of tone.

“Um,” Harry hesitated. Had she misunderstood him when he said they couldn’t be together? He thought he’d made himself clear. “I … I don’t want to give you false hope, Gin. I’m serious…”

“Harry, shut up and do it!” she said bluntly. She spoke forcefully, making Harry think of Mrs. Weasley when she put her foot down about something.

Harry leaned forwards, closing his eyes, and brushed their lips together briefly.

When he pulled back and opened his eyes again, Ginny was looking at him thoughtfully. “I think I understand,” she said, getting to her feet.

Harry stood up as well. “You do? What do you understand?” he asked, suddenly nervous.

“Harry,” she said. “I’ve been with other blokes before, and I’ve been through this before.” She let out a shaky laugh. “Merlin, I wonder if it’s me.”

“What?” Harry asked. “What are you talking about? Gin, are you all right?” He was worried, as she seemed to be holding herself at bay, as if she were about to lose control and hex his bollocks off. Guilt raced through his body, making his stomach churn.

“Tell me something, Harry,” she said at last, voice quivering, higher-pitched than normal. “And please don’t be upset, but I have to know the truth.”

He felt his pulse quicken, fear building under his skin. “What is it?”

“Are you gay?” she asked, looking him full in the face, eyes pleading for it not to be true.

He swallowed, preparing to speak, denial ready on his tongue, but she cut in before he could say anything.

“I thought so,” she murmured, her body going rigid with a barely-controlled hysteria. “All of the boys I’ve dated have seem to have gone over to their own team, and now you too.”

“Gin, I —” Harry started to protest.

“Don’t!” she shouted, cutting him off. She took a breath and lowered her voice: “I need some time to let this sink in. I can’t `… I can’t talk to you right now!”

“But I’m not ready … I didn’t even …” Harry struggled to explain himself.

“I know,” she said. “It’s not your fault, and I know it, but I … I need to help Mum in the kitchen. I’ll see you later.”

She turned away from him and dashed to the door, hand on the knob.

“Please,” Harry cried. “Don’t say anything to —”

“My brothers?” she finished for him, head bowed. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” She looked back at him once more, pausing in the doorway. “It looks like we both have a few more battles to fight before we find a peaceful life. Goodnight, Harry.”

She left, closing the door behind her.

As the door clicked shut, Harry sank back down on the bed. He realised he wasn’t going to be able to stay at the Weasleys’ any longer. He lay back down, his head on the pillow, and closed his eyes. He longed for the future when all of his battles would be in his past.

Opening his eyes a crack, he reached for his wand and pointed it at the lamps, extinguishing them. His eyes flew open in the dark as a thought occurred to him. Dean Thomas and Michael Corner are gay?
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Let Me Be Your Voice