Walk of Shame (18/?)

[dracogotgame]

Title: Walk of Shame (18/?)
Author: dracogotgame
Word Count: 5,000
Rating: R
Warning: Angst.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. This was written for fun, not profit.
Author's Notes: Part 18 of the Walk of Shame Series. I'm so sorry for the long delay, everyone. It just wouldn't come together. I hope the extra long chapter makes up for it. Again, sorry!


Over the next four hours, Draco came to realise that books couldn’t prepare you for everything.

Take fights, for example. All the good books had fight scenes. A story without conflict is a dull endeavour, after all. But those fights were resolved deftly- usually as a lead up to something bigger. Sure, there would be the obligatory cursing and screaming but in the end, it all blew over. Something momentous would happen and the protagonists would put aside their differences, forgive each other in the face of the looming threat. In the end, the whole thing would tie up in a neat, precise conclusion. Books tended to view arguments through the lens of a larger plot- something resolved easily in the course of an hour, maybe two and then never mentioned again.

Real life was different.

There was no real beginning to a fight, as far as Draco could tell, and no defining end either. It was just an endless back and forth with highs and lows- calm discussion that quickly devolved into emotional venting and frustrated yelling before dipping back into exhausted reiteration of the point that the other person just wasn’t getting.

And then it would start all over again, with no end in sight. Books didn’t, couldn’t prepare you for how draining it all was.

As Draco stood there, throat raw and eyes burning from a fresh round of tears, he couldn’t help but wonder how people did this.

“You stood there and looked me in the eye and you swore! You promised, Harry!” He wasn’t sure how many times he’d said it already. All he knew was that it still hurt and the only thing that helped was to fling the words in Harry’s face so that he hurt too.
“Does it even bother you? Do you even care that you lied to me, to your best friends, just so that you could…”

Harry had been standing at the window, glaring resolutely at nothing in particular. So far, he’d been determined not to rise to the bait. But now, he whirled around, facing Draco head on.

“No,” he offered calmly.

Draco fell silent, waiting for an explanation.

“No, it doesn’t bother me. Not really,” Harry went on. On the surface, he looked bored and nonchalant. But Draco didn’t miss the sharp lines around his eyes, the way he held himself, stiff with tension. “It was a small price to pay. People were getting hurt. You got hurt. I could do something about it. So I did. And if a couple of white lies is what it takes, then so be it.”

“Don’t,” Draco hissed. “Don’t make this about me. You didn’t do it for me, and you know it. There were a thousand ways you could have gone about this. Weasley made you an offer months ago. You could have spoken to the Minister with him, they would have listened to you! But you didn’t. Because you just had to do it alone. You just had to be the lone hero saving the world again!”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “And how do you know about that?” he questioned. “About Ron and his offer? The one he made in my private office that I never told you about?”

Damn it. He’d slipped up. Draco raised his chin defiantly. “He told me about it.”

Harry’s lips quirked. “No, he didn’t. Do you think I can’t tell when you’re lying, my love? You were there. You were watching us. I thought I felt something at the time. I just figured the Security Wards were acting up.” He laughed and shook his head, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and bitterness. When he looked at Draco again, his eyes were hard. “You’re a fine one to go on and on about lying, sweetheart. You’ve been spying on me since the beginning.”

He was losing ground. Harry was turning this around on him. And worst of all, he had a point. Draco had kept his own secrets, told his own lies. Maybe if he hadn’t, this conversation would be different.

“It’s different,” he whispered.

Harry smirked. “Ah yes, the Slytherin approach. It’s okay for you but not for me? Why, Draco? Why is that fair?”

“It’s not the same thing,” Draco shouted, angry and beyond frustrated. He could feel himself slipping, losing ground with every word. “You know it’s not!”

“No, it’s not,” Harry agreed, relentless and unyielding. “I lied to protect you, to go after the people who hurt you and to stop them from hurting anyone else. You lied to me because you couldn’t stand being kept in the dark. You had to know all my secrets because how else would you have the upper hand in this fight? Or any other argument we have in the future? How else would you find something, literally anything, to push me away? This entire relationship has been about me reaching out and you backing away. Tell me I’m wrong, Draco. Tell me this fit you’re pitching isn’t just another excuse to run away from us.”

Draco stared at him, shocked into silence. He felt like he was being riddled with hexes. Who knew words could hurt so much? Despite everything, he was oddly impressed. Harry had taken the worst of his insecurities and fears, and thrown them back at him with point blank precision. He turned the sharp accusations over in his head hesitantly, half afraid of what he would find. Maybe part of it was true. He was, by nature, a suspicious and paranoid person. It’s what life had made of him. Despite his best efforts, he still didn’t believe he deserved happiness. And he’d lived with that hidden truth ever since the War.

Was it true, then? Had he been subconsciously looking for reasons to sabotage himself? To sabotage his relationship with Harry? Was that was this was all about?

“No,” he found himself saying.

Harry kept his expression blank but his brow twitched, revealing his surprise.

“No, that…that’s not even remotely true,” Draco said slowly. He was thinking as he spoke, trying to put the pieces together. It was jarring and scary- putting words to the thoughts- but as he went on, it became easier. “I admit that I’m afraid of what we have, sometimes. I’ve been…scared of being happy for a long time. And being with you makes me happier than I’ve ever been, and that scares me because I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m not brave like you, Harry. I’ve never been. You’re right about that, and we both know it.” He took a deep breath and met Harry’s eyes again. It was time to come clean. Perhaps then Harry would listen to him. Maybe honesty would do what subterfuge couldn’t. “But you’re wrong about everything else. I didn’t do it to push you away. It killed me to lie to you, to keep secrets from you. But I made myself do it because…because if there was even a chance that I could help you-that I could stop you from risking your life again- then it was worth it. I thought…I thought my asking would be enough. That was arrogant and foolish. I assumed that you would put my happiness above your convictions because…because that’s what you’ve been doing all this time. But I know now that you can’t. You’re struggling Harry, and I should have seen it. Before it was too late. Before the lies became necessary. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t see.”

His voice wavered towards the end, and he managed to swallow down a hitched sob. Harry’s expression flickered. He was still trying to look unperturbed but the cracks were showing. A flash of raw hurt flickered over his face for a moment or so. Draco swallowed around the lump in his throat and reached out, wrapping hesitant arms around his boyfriend.

“Please,” he whispered, hiding his face in Harry’s shoulder. “Please let me in. I can’t lose you, please…”

Harry wrapped him up in a fierce embrace. “You won’t,” he whispered. “You won’t, Draco. This…you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. When I’m with you, it all goes away. I feel like I can breathe again.” Warm lips pressed against his temples, and Draco squeezed his eyes shut. Harry tipped his chin up gently and soft green eyes bore into him, bright with tears.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” Harry told him. His voice shook slightly, and his grip on Draco tightened. “Sometimes, I can feel it. I can see myself tipping over the edge. It keeps me up at night. I can hear…they won’t let me sleep.”

Draco shivered and hid his face in Harry’s chest. His shaking hands crept up to hold him close. “You hear voices?” he whispered, trying to keep the hysteria at bay. He couldn’t panic right now. Not when Harry was breaking apart in front of him…

Harry huffed out a bitter laugh. “Not anymore,” he amended. “Not like…before.” He pressed a reassuring kiss to Draco’s forehead. “I can sleep now. It’s enough.”

There was silence for a while. Draco’s mind ran wild with a thousand questions but he couldn’t find his voice. He was so lost, so out of his depth. What could he do? How could he help? What would it take to make this go away?

“Then you came along.”

Draco started as Harry broke the silence. He eased out of his grip and raised his head. Harry smiled softly and carded gentle fingers in his hair.

“When I saw you that night looking into that bookshop, like all the wonders of the world were in there…” His smile turned fond and affectionate, and for a moment he looked almost like his old self again. “You were so…different from what I remembered. There you were-in Muggle London of all places- ignoring everything around you except that tacky bookshop. And the more I watched you, the more I felt like…you were there for me. That you were what I was looking for.” His hands cradled Draco’s face carefully, looking deep in his eyes. “I didn’t know what I was looking for that night. And I don’t have a name for it now. All I know is, my life’s been different ever since you came into it. And I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not when you’re the only thing I have worth waking up for.”

The room was spinning around him. He felt overwhelmed, confused and disoriented. This had taken everything out of him. The fact that Harry had returned his honesty with his own admission…it was more than he’d dared hope for. Maybe they could fix this after all. Maybe there was a chance for them. Harry leaned in and when their lips brushed together in a hesitant kiss, Draco dared to let himself hope. Harry was hurt and the extent of the damage scared him senseless, but if he would just try, just take the first step, Draco would stand by him every step of the way. He knew it, he believed it with every fibre of his being. Draco deepened the kiss and tightened his grasp on Harry, trying to say everything he didn’t have words for yet.

Which was why Harry’s next words stopped him cold.

“I love you so much, Draco. I know we can make this work. Please, sweetheart. I just…I need you to understand. This is just…it’s something I have to do. I know how hard it is for you, I do. But I promise it won’t change anything, not if you learn to look the other way…”

Draco’s eyes flew open and he wrenched his way out of Harry’s arms. He couldn’t believe it. All this talk, all this back and forth and back again and they were still stuck in the same damn place!

“What’s the matter with you?!” he all but screamed at a bewildered Harry. “Why aren’t you fucking listening?!”

Through the blood roaring in his ears, he heard a loud crash. The bookcase had fallen over, one shelf splintered to pieces by the force of the fall. Draco blinked and fought to calm himself. He had never lost control of his magic like that…not once.

“Draco,” Harry murmured. He sounded calm but he looked utterly bewildered. “What’s wrong? What did I say?”

Draco stared at him, numb with shock, his insides still thrumming with fury. “You’re not going to stop,” he hissed. “Are you? You’re still going to go out there and risk your life for nothing, you’re still going to run off and get yourself killed and you’re not going to get help. You’re going to do whatever you want, and you want me to close my eyes and pretend it isn’t happening! Isn’t that what you just said? Tell me!”

Harry’s expression morphed, the disbelief giving way to anger. “And there’s the ultimatum,” he spat back with a sneer. “So that’s it? I need to ‘get help’ or you and I are through?” He ran his hands through his hair and started to pace. When he rounded back on Draco, his jaw was tight and his fists were clenched. “Who put you up to this? Hermione? Ron?”

“They care about you!” Draco shouted. “They want to help! I want to help! For Salazar’s sake, we’re not your enemies!”

“I don’t need your help!”

How had they come back to screaming at each other again? Hadn’t they just been kissing and apologising to each other? Draco bit back on a frustrated sob and swiped his hand over his face. He didn’t know how much longer he could do this, he really didn’t. How could he fix this, how could he even begin to fix this when Harry refused to acknowledge that he had a problem?

“You got fired,” he said finally. Maybe throwing an actual consequence in Harry’s face would garner a reaction. “Still think you don’t need help?”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Fired,” he echoed, as if the concept was strange to him. Maybe it was. Who knew what sort of tenuous grasp on reality Harry had these days?

“Kingsley said…”

“Of course he did.” Harry shook his head and huffed out a soft laugh. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Draco was stunned into silence. He didn’t know what he’d expected but this nonchalant acceptance was just unnerving. “You don’t care,” he clarified flatly, “that you’ve been fired. From the job that you’ve dedicated yourself to for years. From being an Auror.”

Harry shrugged. He shouldered past Draco and started to pick up some of the scrolls. “It will never stick,” he explained. Draco’s lost look seemed to amuse him. “Think about it. I took down an entire terrorist operation by myself. Once the Prophet gets hold of that, do you think Kingsley’s word will mean anything? Can you imagine the public fallout if they fired the Auror, the hero who singlehandedly dismantled a hive of Death Eaters? The Minister will fold, his Cabinet will follow right after. They’ll be begging me to come back by the end of the week. So no, Draco. I’m not worried. Nobody can touch me. I made sure of it.” He stuffed a scroll back on the shelf. His eyes glittered in the dim light. The eyes of a hunter. “The Ministry and all those gutless bastards in it…” He sneered in disgust, and grabbed another scroll, the movement rough and angry. “Do you have any idea what their incompetence cost me?”

Sirius Black.

Draco closed his eyes. He wondered if Black was one of the voices that haunted Harry now. He decided he didn’t want to know.
Harry was still glaring, lost in the helpless fury of a past he could no longer put behind him. “Cowards,” he spat. “All of them. They’re never going to stand in my way again. I made sure of it. They won’t stop me ever again.”

“And what about you?” Draco asked quietly. “Can you stop you? Do you think you could if you wanted to?”

“Don’t spin this around on me,” Harry bit out sharply. “I’m not the one who’s lost control here. Everything I did was planned down to the last detail. What you don’t get- what you and Ron and Hermione- refuse to get, is that I know what the hell I’m doing.”

“What about attacking me? Did you plan that too?”

Harry drew back like he’d been slapped. Draco ignored the pang of regret he felt, at saying something so harsh. No, this was important. He needed to get through to Harry, one way or another.

“I didn’t attack you,” Harry whispered. His eyes were brighter than before, and the pain in them was clear as day. “I didn’t. You fired at me first. I was trying to stop you.”

“No, I was trying to stop you,” Draco countered. “That’s why I fired. You fired because I was in your way.”

“That’s not true!” Harry hissed. There was a defensive edge to his argument now, the air of a cornered animal, angry and threatened. “What was I supposed to do? You would have followed me. Hurt yourself or worse! What else could I have done?”

“You could have stopped!” Draco shouted. “You could have put your wand away and come back to me! You could have reported to the DMLE, asked Weasley for help, sent out one of the hundreds of other Aurors instead! But no. You couldn’t do that. Because it had to be you. Because even after all these years, you still think this is your job!”

“It is my job!” Harry shouted. “It’s been my job since I was eleven!”

The resounding silence was like that of a crypt. Draco stared with wide eyes, hardly daring to breathe, as Harry faced him like a cornered animal. He was still as a statue- eyes blazing, shoulders back, fists clenched. He could have bared his teeth, and Draco wouldn’t be the least bit surprised.

“We were learning Levitation Spells,” Harry said, his voice low and dangerous, “when he came back for the first time. Who spoke then? Who said anything when I nearly died fighting him the year after? Or the year after that? Who said that maybe, just maybe, a child shouldn’t be out there fighting the Dark Lord? Nobody. Not the Ministry, not the Aurors, not Dumbledore. Even he didn’t…and he couldn’t. I understand that. I get that. Nobody else could have done it. It was my job. It’s what I was born to do.”

“Harry.” Draco’s vision was blurring. He thought his heart might break. He had expected as much, but to hear it, to see the struggle Harry faced every day of his life…

“It’s not like that,” he said softly. “That’s not why you’re here.”

Harry laughed bitterly. “Of course it is,” he whispered. “It’s just…what it is.” He shook his head and straightened up. A soldier until the end. “And now,” he went on, the anger picking up again, “suddenly, now it’s a problem. Now everyone wants to speak up. The lot of you went behind my back. All of you decided that I wasn’t well enough to do what I’ve always done, what I’m supposed to do.” He turned to Draco. “What gives you that right? What makes you think that you, that any of you, can decide this for me when you don’t know what it’s like?”

This was unbearable. Draco wasn’t even sure he could listen to it anymore and he cursed his own weakness. Harry lived like this. If Draco couldn’t even stand to hear it said out loud, what must it be like for him?

“Listen to yourself,” he pleaded. “Look at what you’re doing to yourself, Harry. It’s over. You saved us. You saved all of us. The war is over.”

“Maybe for you,” Harry countered quietly.

He was calming down again. His shoulders slumped, and he looked defeated all of a sudden. Draco watched warily as he flopped down on the sofa, tipping his head back. His eyes glazed over. “You know,” he said, and his voice sounded far away, removed from reality. “Sometimes, it’s like I never left the Battle.”

A shiver went down Draco’s spine. He approached Harry on shaky legs and sat beside him, not daring to interrupt.

“I saw Dumbledore that night. He gave me a choice,” Harry went on, in that same hollow voice. “He said I could go on or…or go back. Sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice. Maybe it would have been better…for everyone if…”

“Don’t say that.” Draco’s voice sounded weak and pleading to his own ears. He didn’t know what he believed right now. Harry was already hearing voices. Would a near-death hallucination be a stretch? Or…or had Dumbledore really…? He didn’t know. And to be honest, he didn’t care. It was the idea that Harry could have even considered…not coming back that chilled him to his very bones.

“How can you say that?” he whispered. Harry didn’t respond. Draco watched helplessly as his words fell on deaf ears. Harry just stared into the distance, lost and drifting in the past. A past that had left its mark all over him. Draco’s eyes prickled and he was nearly overwhelmed by the physical urge to grab Harry back, pull him away from his private hauntings. He couldn’t though, so he settled for cradling his boyfriend’s face in his hands, forcing him to look at him, at the present that was in front of him right now. He could only hope that Harry would see. “How can you even think that? All the people who love you and care for you…what about us? What about me? Do you honestly believe I’d want to live in a world without you in it?”

He wasn’t listening. He still had that distant look in his eye. Draco bit his lip to keep the tears at bay, and rallied on as best as he could.

“I don’t…I don’t know if you ever had a choice. But if you did, then I’m thankful everyday that you made this one. Because I need you, Harry. Not the hero or the saviour you think you were born to be. I need you.”

Harry shrugged. “There’s no point going back and forth on it,” he sighed. “Either way, it’s done. I’m…still here.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Everyone’s gone and I’m still here.”

“Not everyone,” Draco replied softly. He pressed closer, trying to offer the only comfort he could. “You saved so many, Harry. You gave us all another chance. You gave me another chance.” Tears welled up in his eyes and his fingers shook as they traced Harry’s jawline. “Why can’t you do the same for you?”

Harry’s lips quirked in a humourless grin. “Constant vigilance. Mad Eye used to say that. He’s dead too.”

Draco bowed his head, overwhelmed by despair. He was so out of his depth. The realisation that there was nothing he could say to soothe Harry’s pain was gut wrenching. But there were no other options left. Harry…Harry couldn’t go on like this. He didn’t deserve this and if he couldn’t see that, Draco would just have to show him.

“What happened to you was wrong,” he whispered. Harry frowned, clearly gearing up to argue and Draco hastened to cut him off. “I know it was necessary, I know there was no other choice. But that doesn’t make it right. I’m so sorry you had to...be that. For us. It shouldn’t have been on you. It shouldn’t have been like that.”

“It’s…”

“No, it’s not fine. Not if…not if this is what it’s done to you.”

Harry frowned and sat up. “I’m fine,” he muttered, scrubbing his eyes. “Just tired, that’s all. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Draco replied. “You’re not fine, Harry. You’re hurting yourself. You’re killing yourself over the past. And you’re letting the present get away from you. This isn’t living, Harry, and you know it.”

Harry sighed. Shook his head. “It was supposed to be over,” he muttered. “That was the deal. It should have ended when he did. It was supposed to be over.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Draco argued gently. “It’s…it’s never going to be over, Harry. Evil doesn’t die, not the way you’re thinking. There will always be someone out there who wants to hurt someone else. It’s the way things are.”

“Then I can’t stop,” Harry said in a hollow voice. “I can’t stop. What was the point of it, of any of it, if it’s never going to end? I have to keep going on or…or their deaths mean nothing.”

“No,” Draco murmured, wrapping his arms around Harry’s trembling shoulders. Holding him steady. “No, that’s not it either. Evil doesn’t die. But the good live on too. You don’t have to stop fighting, Harry. You’ve always been good. Brave. Kind and sacrificing. That’s who you are. But it doesn’t have to be just you. We’re…we’re here. All of us. Ron and Hermione. Me. Everyone who cares about you. Let people in, Harry. Trust them. Believe in them again. Nobody can do it alone.”

“I did.” Harry broke out of his grasp. The calm reverie shattered. Harry sat there, restless and agitated as he fidgeted with his hands. “I was alone. The prophecy…you didn’t know about that, did you? I was ‘the one to defeat the Dark Lord’. The one. Alone. It had to be me. Anyone else who tried would have died. Don’t you understand that? Can’t you see how it’s meant to be? How it’s always going to be?”

How did this keep happening? Every time they made some head way, Harry would go right back to the start.

“The war is over,” Draco pressed, despair threatening to submerge him again. “It’s over, Harry. Please listen to me. Let me help. We can talk to a Mind Healer, anyone you want…”

It was the wrong thing to say. It was the wrong time to say it.

“Don’t.”

Somehow, Harry’s calm, level voice was harsher than all the shouting they’d engaged in. He watched Draco, his expression a blend of disappointment and betrayal.

“I thought you might understand,” Harry said quietly. “I thought…I thought if I explained it, you would see. I was wrong. You can’t see. Nobody can.”

“Harry, please…”

“Don’t.”

The silence grew again, growing with the weight of defeat and unresolved questions. Draco started when gentle hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him up. For once, Harry’s expression didn’t reflect confidence and surety. He looked uncertain and tired, haunted and scared.

“Just tell me now,” he said, “before we kill ourselves going over this for the rest of our lives. Is this something you can live with, Draco? I love you, and what we have means the world to me, but if you can’t…do this, if you can’t deal with this part of me, I need to know now. So, tell me. Can you let me do what I have to and give us a chance? Or no?”

He wanted to look away. He wanted to run and hide and never have to make this decision. But Harry was still holding him, watching the tears fall from his swollen eyes and seeing the last sliver of hope slip away.

“No,” Draco whispered. The word felt heavy in his mouth. “No, I can’t.”

Harry released him. “I see,” he said. His voice was cold. Flat and devoid of any emotion.

“You can’t ask that of me,” Draco managed through choked sobs. “You can’t, Harry. I can’t…I can’t go through the rest of my life…waiting for the day you won’t c-come back. If you really loved me, you wouldn’t ask it of me. You wouldn’t and you know it, Harry.”

“I thought you’d understand,” Harry whispered. “I really thought…”

Draco shook his head vehemently. He didn’t understand this. He couldn’t. And watching Harry self-destruct was more than he could stand.

“I can’t,” he sobbed, giving in to the pain. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“I’m sorry too,” Harry said softly. His breath came out in a shudder and he swiped at his eyes, rough and angry. “I love you, you know. I really do.”

It didn’t matter. It wasn’t enough. The price was too high and try though he might, Draco couldn’t pay it.

“Just go,” he rasped. “Leave. Please.”

He only dared to look up when the footsteps faded. The last thing he saw before tears blurred his vision was the door shutting with a quiet click.

Harry had left him.

Again.

And this time, he wasn’t coming back.