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The Heart of the Matter	By : Jad Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 7323 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Note: with this chapter, the fic is now current. What this means: updates will no longer come so quickly (sorry!), only as I write them... if it helps, the next chapter is more than half finished! Thank you all so much for the kind words and feedback.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Always do right.

This will gratify some people, and astonish the rest.

– Mark Twain

: : :

'Gin, we need to talk.'

The grey-scaled Ginny looked up from packing her trunk. Draco could tell at once, before she said a word, that she already knew. 'Yeah, we do.'

Potter, his hair a shocking black in the memory, apparently did, too. He winced. 'You already know.'

'Hermione had an idea,' Ginny admitted, closing the trunk and sitting on it. 'And tonight sort of made it obvious.'

Potter leaned back against the door and closed his eyes, wiping his hands over his face before opening them again. He looked at her and sighed heavily. 'God, Gin. I am so sorry.'

'I know.' She cocked her head at him, and then patted the trunk beside her. 'I won't bite, you know.'

Potter looked wary. 'No,' he said, 'you're more the hexing type.'

'You'd deserve it.'

'I would,' he agreed, sitting next to her. After a moment, he leaned sideways into her, and she let him. 'Why haven't you?'

'I dunno,' she admitted. 'I do appreciate you telling me, though, even if it's belated.'

'I should have told you sooner.'

'Yes, you should have,' she agreed again. 'Look, Harry, I'm—well, I won't say I'm not angry, because I am, but—I'm more upset, than anything else. And not about what you'd think,' she added quickly when he opened his mouth to apologise, 'not about the cheating thing. Or the gay thing.' Potter shied away from her and she rolled her eyes. 'Oh, honestly, Harry, you may as well get used to the word.'

'How can you not be upset about the cheating thing?' he asked. Draco admired the topic change on his end.

'Well, I am a bit, but mostly just angry about that. But why I'm upset,' she went on, 'is that even after everything we've been through, you didn't trust me enough to talk to me about it.'

'I didn't want to hurt you—'

'Bit of a stupid way to manage that, wasn't it?'

'I never said it wasn't stupid,' he said. 'I just—I didn't even fully understand it myself, all right? I was sort of hoping it would just... I dunno, go away. That I'd get over it. As stupid as that sounds.'

'Are you two serious, then?'

Potter frowned. 'Well, no. I don't know. I think I'd like to be. But I haven't really brought it up, you know, because I wanted to talk to you first.'

Ginny sighed heavily and pursed her lips. 'You don't need my permission, you know.'

'That's not—' he began, then stopped and tried again. 'I mean, I know that, I just—urgh. I feel like a complete arse.'

'Good,' Ginny said. There was a small, sad smile playing at her lips. She was still looking at him fondly, even though it was obvious every word out of Potter's mouth, so blatantly honest, was painful to hear. 'You were a complete arse.'

'I'm sorry.'

'You'll be sorrier later, when Ron finds out,' she pointed out. Potter looked at her in horror. 'What? Have you forgotten the fact that I have six older brothers?' Potter was frowning now, having obviously overlooked this not-so-tiny detail. 'Oh, don't worry. I'm not going to tell anyone you were unfaithful, Harry, because frankly it's none of their business. But when he finds out we're not dating anymore, he's going to want to know why. And I think you've been lying enough recently, especially to yourself.'

Potter looked at her for a moment, troubled but admiring her poise nonetheless. 'Yeah, I know.' He sighed and looked at his hands. 'I still think you're taking this rather well, considering. I was at least expecting a row.'

'I think you're punishing yourself enough without that,' she said, smiling none-to-sweetly. 'Guilt works on you better than shouting.'

Potter winced again, and grimaced. 'I am so, so sorry.'

'See?' Ginny said. Potter was looking down, so he didn't see her smile falter. 'I'll forgive you. Eventually. I think I just need some time to process it.'

Potter nodded mutely, but caught her hand as she stood up. She looked down at him, frowning. He was still looking at the floor. 'Thank you.'

He didn't see her eyes begin to water, either. She gently tugged her hand away and left the room without a word.

When the door closed, the memory faded. Draco saw the ghostly images of a graveyard and then something hit him hard in the stomach, causing him to double-over.

'Bloody fuck,' he hissed, clutching his abdomen. 'You're supposed to fight with your mind, not your fists!'

Potter was leaning back against the wall, eyes closed and panting. One hand was braced on the bedside table, holding him up. His black hair was slick against his forehead, hiding his scar.

Draco winced and limped over to the bed, sitting down gingerly on the edge of the mattress as to not further bruise his innards. He'd thought, originally, he'd enjoy this, getting to root around inside Potter's head for a couple of hours a week. Potter of course had insisted on using a Pensieve, but a Pensieve could only hold so many memories and apparently Potter had a lot of them he didn't want Draco to see.

As it turned out, it was not enjoyable to dig around in Potter's mind. It was terrifying. Mostly Draco saw flashes from his childhood, those years he lived with the Muggles, but occasionally he saw... other things. More recent memories, full of red eyes, hissing, screaming... if these were the memories Potter had decided not to keep from him, Draco had no desire whatsoever taking a peek in the Pensieve to see what Potter considered worth hiding.

Potter eventually opened his eyes and sat down on by the head of the bed, a foot of open space separating them, and flopped backwards. They were using Draco's Head Boy room because anyone who discovered the two of them in an unused classroom with wands drawn would be likely to alert a teacher, and neither of them wanted to be disturbed.

Draco flopped backwards beside him, studying the dark canopy of his bed for a moment. 'I didn't realise you two had broken up,' he said abruptly.

'It wasn't really any of your business,' Potter reminded him shortly, without looking at him.

Fair enough, Draco thought. Then he glanced sideways, and realised rather suddenly that he was alone in his room with Harry Potter, and they were lying on his bed.

Potter was still breathing heavily, mouth parted; his skin was slick with sweat, eyes still tightly closed behind his glasses, long lashes dark and damp against his cheeks. Draco briefly entertained the thought of what Potter would do if their roles were reversed, and if Potter could see into his thoughts, dig through his emotions, see what he was thinking about more than he would ever, ever admit, even to himself.

It wasn't his fault, he reasoned. Not really. He was a seventeen-year-old boy, which meant despite any evidence to the contrary, he was almost continuously turned-on. Usually he could roll around with Pansy for a while and be somewhat sated, but even Pansy was beginning to notice his lack of interest, the sudden need for him to study when she came up to his room, the invention of Head Boy duties when she cornered him in an empty corridor.

He had debated breaking it off with her just to make things simpler, and it would be fairer to her, surely... but it was also bound to lead to questions, questions he didn't think he could come up with answers for, lies he didn't think he could manage with a straight face.

Draco suddenly noticed that Potter had turned his head to the side and was looking at him. 'What?'

Potter shrugged and looked away again. 'Nothing. Just surprised you shut up about it.'

'Like you said, it wasn't any of my business.'

'That's never stopped you before.'

Draco sat up a little, leaning his weight on his elbows to look down at him. 'Do you want to talk about it?'

Potter made a face and pushed his glasses up to his forehead, rubbing his eyes with his palms. 'Not particularly.'

Draco rolled his eyes while Potter wasn't looking. Thank Merlin, because I really don't want to hear it. There was something, though, he was curious about. 'So,' he began casually, 'you and Nott.'

Potter paused, then removed his hands. Replacing his glasses, he gave Draco a look. 'Also none of your business.'

'Some of my business,' Draco reminded him.

Potter rolled his eyes and sat up, his shoulders hunched. 'I figured he would have told you.'

Theodore kept mostly to himself, never one to volunteer personal information over the six years Draco had known him. He'd mostly been labelled a loner, absent whenever Draco had rallied his fellow Slytherins to conspire trouble (usually against Potter) and making excuses whenever they snuck out of the castle on weekends.

'That the two of you are right shirt lifters? People don't usually advertise that sort of thing.'

'I don't give a damn what you think.'

'Apparently, neither did Nott.' Draco shrugged. 'Maybe it's not any of my business. Anyway, are we done? Or did you want to try again?'

'I just don't understand what I'm doing wrong.' Potter pushed himself off the bed and began to pace. 'I mean, it's better than it was with Snape, but you can still get in. It's like, no matter what I do, you fucking wiggle inside my head and I can't – I've tried everything, potions, wards, this – I'm fucking exhausted.'

'Well, that probably doesn't help,' Draco pointed out. 'I mean, Occlumency is simple enough to master for most people – it's Legilimency that's difficult – but honestly, you're not exactly the best at hiding what you're thinking.'

Potter paused in his pacing, looking at Draco over his shoulder, who had to admit maybe he wasn't entirely correct about that. 'You think so?'

'See, now that,' Draco pointed out, sitting up. 'That is what you need to do. You've got to stop trying to hide all of your emotions – Occlumency doesn't work like that. You don't block everything. You just give enough of something to cover up what it is you're trying to hide.'

'How the hell is that supposed to help when Voldemort – ' Draco flinched at the name ' – isn't trying to find anything, he's just... rooting around in my head for fun?'

'Baby steps, Potter. You can't fly before you're able to straddle a broom.'

'Yeah, right, in the meantime I'll just learn to live without sleep, shall I?'

'You could just kip in here,' Draco blurted, then clamped his mouth shut. Where the hell did that come from?

Potter had stopped pacing again to stare at him. 'You want me to sleep in here? With you?'

Draco was a little miffed at the disgust in his voice. He shrugged. 'By all means, keep your Housemates awake all night screaming. I don't give a damn.'

'No, I mean,' Potter was giving him an odd look. He covered it up with a smirk. 'Not worried that I'll try to molest you in the middle of the night? Being a right shirt lifter, and all.'

'Please, as if you'd be sleeping in my bed,' Draco scoffed. 'I'll have the house-elves bring up a cot.'

'What about Parkinson?'

'I'll tell her one of my other girlfriends is coming over.' Potter raised his eyebrows at that and Draco rolled his eyes. 'Don't worry about Pansy. Just, we'll give it another go after you've slept and see if it helps, all right? I don't plan to spend my entire fucking weekend getting punched every time you fail at keeping me out.'

Potter winced a little. 'Sorry. About that, I mean, I just – it's not exactly comfortable.'

'Neither is getting punched,' Draco said, letting his head fall back into the duvet. 'You've got a right hook like a fucking Bludger.'

: : :

Getting rid of Pansy was easy enough. Turns out, since it was Friday, she had a girls' night out with a couple of tolerable Ravenclaws planned for the evening. Why a girls' night out included Blaise Zabini, Terry Boot and Zacharias Smith, Draco did not want to know, but was a little miffed he'd be spending a night with no classes in the morning stuck in his room with Harry bloody Potter.

Potter was quiet, though, head buried inside an enormous tome while lying in his cot. They'd positioned it close enough to the bed that Draco's own talent at Occlumency would envelope him, but the cot itself was closer to the floor and all Draco could see was the the mop of black hair and Potter's legs bent back over his thighs, crossed at the ankles.

It was already eleven o'clock. Potter had dragged himself (discreetly using his Invisibility Cloak) through the door of Draco's Head Boy room sometime after nine. Draco had spent a fascinated ten minutes playing with the cloak while Potter rolled his eyes and encased himself into the borrowed covers like an enormous caterpillar. Now, Draco was trying to focus on his Defense essay, but kept finding his mind wander, eyes always finding the top of Potter's head as he tried to describe the evolution of Dark magic over the ages.

The book Potter was studiously absorbed in was so old the title had been rubbed out over time. Potter stiffled a yawn with the back of his hand, carefully turning a page with an idly wave of his finger. Draco wondered how someone who could cast thoughtless, wandless, non-verbal magic had such a hard time with the simple concept of Occlumency.

'Merlin, I'm bored,' Draco said. 'We should go out.'

Potter dog-earred a page (somewhere, surely, a Ravenclaw just got a headache) of the ancient tome and flicked his eyes upward to find Draco peering off the edge of the bed. 'Why?'

'Because I'm bored,' Draco repeated. 'I thought I made that bit clear.'

'It's too dangerous,' Potter said reasonably.

'Too dangerous? I'm sorry, I thought I was talking to the Chosen One, not a Hufflepuff. Speaking of, even Smith's gone out.'

'Yeah, 'cos I totally want to spend more quality time with him.'

'It's gotta beat hanging out with – whatever the hell it is you're reading. Come on, Potter. We could find out where Pansy's gone. They're probably drinking without us.'

'We could just drink here.'

'Been there, done that. You're a boring drunk,' Draco said.

'I dunno,' Potter said, and just the edge of his smirk was visible. 'You seemed to enjoy yourself.'

'You took advantage of me,' Draco went on, rolling onto his back in case he was blushing. 'Anyway, it's not like there's anything else to do, what with Quidditch cancelled.'

Potter groaned in agreement from somewhere below the mattress. 'It's so stupid! Why would they cancel Quidditch? I mean, it's the one bloody thing that I was looking forward to.'

'Might have something to do with the Slytherin team being down to two players,' Draco pointed out, fairly.

'They combined the Houses,' Potter shot back. 'Why not combine the teams? I mean, half the players on each team already left – we could just, y'know, double-up.'

'Because what about the positions? Smith's a Seeker, so am I. You're set with Chang gone, but I'm not fighting a Hufflepuff for a spot on our team I spent four years earning.'

'Maybe he'll Chase? You're a better Seeker than he is, anyway.' The bedsprings squeaked as Draco rolled back over to look down at Potter, who raised his eyebrows. 'What? You are,' he said, shrugging. 'I didn't say you were better than me.'

'Clearly, modesty is not a Gryffindor trait.'

'We could even – like, look, we could rotate, y'know?' Potter went on, ignoring the jibe. 'If you both want to Seek, we'll, I dunno, have four games instead of six? People can trade off, or swap in. Different captains, different strats, still playing for all four Houses.'

'That wouldn't work, though, we can't play each other, we wouldn't have enough players. But what if we, like, elimination rounds? Start with the two teams that are split into four depending on the Captains, and based on that – '

'Everybody plays the winner!' Potter was sitting up now, on his knees, looking like an excited First Year. 'That's brilliant. Do you have spare parchment? Here, budge up.'

They spent the rest of the night on their stomachs in Draco's four-poster, ink and parchment flying everywhere. Potter wasn't much for Smith captaining Hufflepuff but Draco pointed out he was the player with the most experience in his house, and when Potter started muttering Draco bit out a 'Scared to lose to Smith, Potter?' and that had been the end of that.

By one o'clock, when Pansy returned from her trip and tip-toed into the room, she was treated to seeing Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter side-by-side, sprawled face-first into an alarming array of scribbled-on parchment. She dropped her cloak, the heavy flop of fabric echoing through the bedroom. Neither boy so much as stirred.

Pansy closed the door softly behind her. Blaise, on his own way to the boys' dormitories, saw her face and raised an eyebrow. 'Malfoy chuck you out again?'

Pansy blinked, then mustered what semblance of dignity she could. 'You are not going to believe this.'

: : :

McGonagall peered at them both over the edge of the frayed parchment. Draco squirmed under her gaze. Say what you will about flaky Gryffindors, but that woman had a way of making his insides churn. It was a glare worthy of a Slytherin.

He was aware their current state probably contributed to the look she was giving them. They both had fallen asleep with their faces on inked parchment that hadn't had time to dry, and even Draco's hair was giving Potter's a run for it's Galleons. Still, Potter was right – if this was going to work they had to get it approved quickly, even possibly hold tryouts that very weekend.

'You're telling me, Mr Potter, that the two of you conspired on this?'

'Er,' said Potter.

'Together?'

'Yeah, um. It was sort of – look, we just, we're bored out of our minds. We thought it'd be good for everyone to have something to – look forward to.'

'And here I thought you were given sufficient assignments to keep you occupied your final year of N.E.W.T.s,' McGonagall said, adjusting her glasses and giving the parchment before her another cursory glance. 'Perhaps I should have a word with my fellows about all this free time you seem to have.'

'That's not,' Potter began, then looked at Draco, who shrugged. He wasn't going to talk to the woman. She scared the hell out of him. Rolling his eyes, Potter tried again: 'Look, it'd also be good for, you know, all that stuff about the Houses – '

'You mean to say that you think competition will inspire greater House unity.'

'I hope?' Potter looked lost; Draco realised that Gryffindors seemed to be at as much of a loss around their Head of House as the rest of the school. 'Please, Professor. We need to do something. Other than coursework,' he hastily threw in, wincing.

McGonagall laid the parchment down on her desk and steepelled her fingertups, resting her chin there. She observed them in silence for a moment, eyes flickering between the two ink-smudged teenagers, giving nothing away. Eventually, she nodded. 'I think you're quite right. I will have a word with the Headmaster; though, I dare say he will not object to the idea. However,' she continued, when both boys broke out in identical grins, 'any shenanigans such as those witnessed in your Fifth Year will not be tolerated, and any sabotaging will result in an end to any sports for the entirety of the year. Also, Mr Malfoy, it will be up to you to juggle these responsibilities along with that of your own and your duties as Head Boy. Do I make myself plain?'

Both of them nodded mutely. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw Potter glance at him, stupid smile plastered on his face. Told you we should go to McGonagall, it seemed to say, because at first Draco had wanted to go straight to Dumbledore. Apparently, the woman was more of a fan of the game than Draco gave her credit for.

Draco returned his gaze and smirked. Potter was grinning like he'd already won; we'll, we'd see about that.

: : :

The official announcement that Quidditch was back on the menu of extracurricular activities later that day caused a bit of a sensation. Some students muttered about unfairness until they'd read the fine print, then brightened up considerably. Zacharias Smith came hurtling into the common room and immediately jumped Draco, thumping him hard on the back.

'Ow,' Draco muttered. 'D'you mind?'

'It was you, I know it was you,' Smith said, grinning. 'It's brilliant. Why didn't you tell me? I would've helped you work it out.'

'I didn't know if they'd even consider it,' Draco said shrugging. 'Didn't want to get anyone excited.'

Smith flopped back on the couch across from him, a look of pure glee on his face. 'I'll be captaining for Hufflepuff, of course,' he said, then looked at Draco. 'Right?'

'That depends,' Draco said. 'How much is it worth to you?'

'Prat. Of course I am. Who else could? Honestly.' Smith was drumming his fingers on the couch, brow knit in thought. 'But,' he said, more seriously this time, 'which one of us is going to be Seeker?'

Draco shrugged, then gave him a smirk. 'Who said I wanted to be Seeker?'

: : :

Thank you again for all the kind comments! I'm glad you're all enjoying this (half-assed as it is). As far as the "why/how" with Harry and Theo, have patience. They may not be hexing one another on sight any longer, but they're hardly best mates. Besides, Draco still has time to root around in Harry's head now and again :) But, at least, now you know what happened between Harry and Ginny.

Also, for anyone who remembers their canon... Smith was a Chaser, not a Seeker. Wait and see... next chapter explains that bit, too.
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The Heart of the Matter