Splintered, (1/4)

[aquila_star]

Title: Splintered.
Pairing: H/D
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Auror!Harry. Portrait!Snape. Blatant homophobia. Language. Violence. Sex. Consider yourself warned.
Word count: 39,000ish
Summary: Harry comes face to face with an ugly truth about his world, but finds love in the most unlikely of places. Draco never wanted a knight in shining armour, but it is always nice to be swept off your feet.
Author's Notes: Beta-ed by luredbyvenus, irishmommy and twistedm This was written for last year's hds_beltane fest, but the fandom was covered in fic, so it wasn't seen much. Also, I never did archive it here, so I'm doing both now. This fic was a gift for sesheta_66 Plot is love. As in-character as possible, though changes as a result of maturing/effects of war, etc. are good; I love a happy/hopeful ending, but I like to see them put through their paces before getting there, so flangst is the best; nothing too fluffy and no dark!fics please; top!Harry, but mixing it up is fine. I would prefer a non-established relationship, showing how they resolve their differences, reconcile the past and gradually get together (or if forced together, gradually accept the relationship). an extremely hot first kiss.

And just a reminder, hds_beltane begins posting again on May 1st, so don't forget to watch and read all the lovely fic!


In hindsight, Draco knew it was a mistake. He was rash and foolish, but he was just so damned horny, and he was not going to lower himself by going to that Muggle club for a shag. Not again.

But still, he should have found another man to pursue. It was just that bloody Terence Higgs was far too hot to be ignored. And Draco had thought ...well, never mind what he'd thought. He'd been wrong. Very wrong. It was all too clear now that he was trapped in a dark corner of Knockturn Alley by a very fit, but also very angry, Higgs. Even now what little sunlight able to fight through the gloom of the overhanging buildings and into the crevice he was trapped in made Higgs' hair glint attractively, but the effect was ruined by the look on his face.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Malfoy?” Higgs growled at him. Draco was alarmed, but he couldn't stop his cock from twitching at the sound. Fuck, Higgs was hot. Damn him.

“I...it was a mistake, obviously,” Draco stuttered, wondering how he was going to talk his way out of this. His chances were admittedly slim, especially given the lurking brutes behind the regrettably homophobic Higgs.

“You're damn right it was a mistake, you little pouf. I oughta kill you for even thinking I would want you.” Higgs was spitting mad. Literally. Draco reached up and wiped some spittle from his cheek. Ugh. What had he been thinking? Hot or not, the man was a pig.

“I...you...I mean, you didn't do anything, I was just hoping...” Draco was cut off by Higgs looming over him with fists clenched, clearly enraged.

“You were hoping? You make me sick.”

“I, I'm sorry. I'll never come near you again, I swear!” Draco exclaimed, flinching as Higgs' fist came into view.

“Damn right you won't, you sick fuck!” Higgs punched him in the gut, hard. Draco gasped and doubled over, knowing that it was about to get worse. A lot worse. He reached into his cloak for his wand, furious with himself for forgetting about it in his panic. Now it might be too late.

He dodged a blow aimed at his head, barely hearing Higgs bellowing invectives at him as he moved within hexing distance. But he'd been right, it was too late. The incantation in his mind had not made it to his lips before Higgs snatched his wand away. The other fist smashed into Draco's nose, the crunch of breaking bones echoed in Draco's skull, and he felt like crying.

“Oww, you fucker!” Draco yelled, clutching his broken face. Blood was spurting from his nose and through his fingers. “Not my face, dammit!”

“Can't hex me now, can you, you little perv? Nancy little pouf. Don't worry about your looks...worry about your life! How dare you think that I'm a freak like you!” Higgs was brandishing Draco's wand. “I'm going to beat the presumption out of you, and if you're lucky, I'll beat the perversion out of you too!”

“No, really,” Draco said frantically through the streaming blood. “I'm fine with it, really...just give me my wand back and I'll leave, I promise. No hexing, and I'll never speak a word...” He was babbling and he knew it. He was cut off by another fist to his face, this one catching his cheek and spraying blood across the wall against which Draco was pinned.

“You're right, Malfoy,” Higgs said dangerously. Any arousal Draco might previously have felt at the sexy rasp of his voice was drowned out by pain and pure fear. He was cornered and he knew it. There was no getting out of this.

“I'll make sure you never speak again, you freak.” His fist connected with Draco's chest, knocking the wind out of him. The next landed on his face, snapping it up into position for another. Draco began to lose track of the blows. They were coming hard and fast and, if he wasn't mistaken, from more than one man. Soon he was being held up by his bloody shirt as he cowered behind his arms, trying to block some of the blows.

It was no good. Rough hands grabbed him from behind and pulled his arms down and back, tearing a muscle in his shoulder as his hands were pinned behind him. There was no defending himself. Pain blossomed throughout his entire body - not only was his face a mess, but his chest was on fire. A knee to the groin brought a whole new kind of pain, and he was being supported entirely by his arms, sending a fresh wave of pain in his injured shoulder.

Draco had no idea how long it lasted but finally he was dropped heavily to the ground, the side of his head coming into direct contact with the cobblestones. He was choking on blood and terror, unsure how much more he could take, but the blows had stopped. He groaned, barely able to move. He felt a nudge in his ribs as he was kicked over onto his back. He opened swollen eyes as much as possible, gasping from the pain, to see the outline of his latest big mistake looming.

“Don't forget, freak, this never happened. If I hear any rumour of your perversion again, I'll finish the job.” He backed up and Draco thought it was over, but it wasn't.

“One more thing,” Draco saw his wand being waved above him, taunting him. He groaned in dismay, unable to do anything else. “You don't deserve to be a wizard, you sick fuck,” Higgs hissed at him. “So you won't be needing this.” He snapped Draco's wand in two, scattering pieces of unicorn hair and splinters of hawthorn wood over him. Draco sobbed as his wand was destroyed. That wand meant so much to him and now it was scattered in pieces around his broken body.

Then they left him there, with a parting kick to the torso that he was sure broke another rib. He whimpered, tears leaving trails down his bloody face. He choked back another sob and everything went dark.

*

Harry trudged away from Robards' office, dreading this assignment. He had been hoping for a field mission to keep his mind off his latest fight with Ginny and all that had happened after it...and hopefully take him away from London altogether. He had not been so lucky.

No, instead he was the ungrateful recipient of the case of Draco Malfoy, smeggy git. (Harry chuckled to himself...he'd clearly been watching far too much BBC2) Apparently his erstwhile nemesis had managed to get himself beaten half to death and Harry was being sent to St. Mungo's to interview him. Harry was not pleased. If Malfoy had been stupid enough to mouth off at the wrong person and get slugged for his trouble, why should it concern the Aurors?

Still, Robards had insisted that he investigate. 'Clearly the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has nothing more pressing to do during these peaceful times than to elicit donations from the wealthiest of Wizarding society,' Harry grumbled to himself as he made for the floo.

To make matters worse, he was accosted by Ginny before he could make it across the lobby to the fireplaces.

“Harry!” she called, dashing around the newly rebuilt Fountain of Magical Brethren before he could escape. “Are you free? Can you stop for lunch?” She was glowing with exuberance and Harry couldn't help but wonder if she was a little touched in the head. Had she forgotten about the huge row that they'd had last night, ending with Harry storming out of his own flat after telling her she'd best be gone when he got home? He had been mere words away from telling her to never come back again. Truthfully, he wasn't sure that refraining was the better choice. Especially after what had happened when he'd left the flat.

“Harry?”

Oh, right. She was right there.

“Actually Gin, I've just been sent out on assignment, so I can't,” Harry said, taking a step back to avoid her attempt at a kiss. “Evil never quits, you know how it is.” He ruffled his hair distractedly, mostly to avoid chewing at his nails. Ginny hated it when he did that and at this point the last thing he wanted was to get into another row with her. He'd had just about enough.

“Oh,” she said, clearly disappointed. “When will you be back? Maybe we can have a late lunch, or even dinner. We need to talk.”

Harry sighed impatiently. He didn't think so. He was rather done talking.

“Well, I don't know when I'll be back,” he lied. “I'll owl you when I am, yeah?”

She did not look pleased. Harry recognized that face, it was the face of a woman about to start yelling. He looked at his wrist.

“Oh, look at the time. I have to go Gin. See ya!” And with that he turned and all but ran for the fireplaces, suddenly grateful for the fact that Malfoy was waiting for him.

*

Draco woke to a shooting pain in his head and an immense weight on his chest. He lay still for a few minutes, hoping that the headache would fade a little, but he had no luck. He was able to feel his surroundings and knew he was no longer in the alley, but where? The surface under him was soft and smooth, and he could hear people bustling about outside the room he was in. St. Mungo's? It must be.

He tried to lift his arm to feel his throbbing face but gasped at the sharp pain in his shoulder and quit trying. His head was still stabbing pain into his eyes, so he wasn't ready to open them yet. He wanted to call for a pain potion, but the thought of opening his mouth was rather harrowing. He stayed as still as possible and waited for what seemed like forever before he heard someone coming into the room. Whoever it was began to chant some kind of spell over him, and he felt a bit of the pain fade away. He took a deep breath and tried to say 'May I have a pain potion, please,' but it came out sounding more like 'Maauuurgghh.' Strangely enough, it managed to get the point across.

“Oh, you're awake,” a soft female voice said from above him. “I suppose you'll be wanting a pain potion, then. You must have one hell of a headache.” There was shuffling from beside the bed.

Draco wanted to snap “You must be a fucking genius to have figured that out,” but once again he was not successful.

“Ya...oohhhh,” was about all he managed. The Healer chuckled and if Draco hadn't been trying not to move, he would have hexed her.

His eyes snapped open as he remembered that he longer had a wand. Of course, the movement made his head pound fiercely. His eyes rolled back in his head and everything went black again.

When he came to this time he opened his eyes slowly. He saw that the Healer was still in the room, so it must have only been a few moments. She was talking to him, encouraging him to wake up so he could have a potion. His mind retorted, “I'm trying, you cow.” He didn't even attempt to say it out loud.

“Come on love, let me give you a sip. It'll help enough so that you can sit up and take the rest.”

Draco moaned, but opened his lips minutely and was rewarding by a cool trickle of what he recognized as a very potent pain killer. He was grateful. His pain demanded it. Mere seconds later he felt blessed relief spread through his body. He was able to breathe easier and he was no longer wishing that his head would roll off his shoulders.

“There, how's that?” asked the Healer.

“Better,” he croaked, pleased when it came out more or less how he'd intended.

“Are you feeling up to the rest?”

“Yes, please.” His voice was rough with pain, but at least he was able to form words now. She reached under his shoulders and helped him sit up. He gasped at the pain in his ribs, and fought to stay conscious. He knew very well that the reason he was still in so much pain was that, in order to swallow a pain potion, the patient needs to be awake . Fortunately, the Healer understood what he needed and let him breathe through the pain before tipping the vial to his lips.

After drinking it, Draco was laid down again to wait for the potion to take effect. He didn't have to wait very long before he felt the pain dissipate. He was able to breathe freely and move his arms and legs without passing out. In some perverse sense, he had never felt better.

“How's that?”

“So much better,” Draco said. “I can breathe.”

“Wonderful.” The Healer had picked up the next vial and handed it to Draco. “This is a blood replenisher.” He downed it quickly.

“We were able to heal the surface wounds while you were unconscious, but you need potions for the internal injuries.” Draco grimaced. Medical concoctions were the absolute worst tasting potions in existence. But they worked, so he wasn't going to complain. He swallowed it quickly, only gagging once. He relaxed against the bed, happy to be free from the pain. He was trying not to think about the fact that he had been beaten almost to death and his wand had been snapped. And if that wasn't bad enough, he still hadn't had a shag.

Draco sighed. The Healer bustled around him, saying something he wasn't paying attention to until he heard the word 'Auror.'

“Excuse me? What was that you just said?” he asked.

“There's an Auror on his way over to interview you,” she said.

“Why? I didn't do anything wrong.” He felt rather indignant.

“Of course not,” the Healer said with a chuckle. “They'll be looking for the men who did this to you. You were severely injured, and will likely be here for at least another day.”

“Oh,” Draco said. “That's all right then.” He sat back, suddenly worried for a whole other reason.

The Healer gave him a wan smile as she left, promising to be back later with another pain potion and some dinner. Draco settled in, thinking about how he had got here, and what he was going to tell the Auror due to arrive shortly. Besides the very real threat that Higgs had made after the actual beating, the event itself was just one symptom of the way the Wizarding world viewed homosexuality. As a result, Draco was very firmly in the closet. He was also desperate for a shag, a good one. He refused to hire a rent boy, and although he had lowered himself once to find a shag in a Muggle club, (Damn those Muggles anyway for being progressive about an issue that was, by necessity, so close to Draco's heart.) he wanted to avoid another trip at all costs.

And while it was true that Terence Higgs and his cronies were aware of his orientation, it was unlikely that they would say anything. This was one of those topics one never brought up lest the person they told thought they were gay as well as the one whom the rumour concerned. He felt reasonably sure it would not get out from that corner. However, the fact remained that the Aurors would be very interested to know who had beaten him into a pulp in the middle of the day and then snapped his wand. He began to think - frantically trying to come up with something that would be reasonable but would keep the focus off the fact that he had been beaten by another wizard.

Draco heard the door open, which snapped him out of his musings and brought his mind back to the matter at hand. And it was very close at hand now as the expected Auror came through the door.

“Oh, you're fucking kidding me,” Draco fumed. Why was this happening to him? How much bad luck could one bloke have? And when had the prat become that hot?

“Sorry, Malfoy,” replied none other than Harry Potter. “No joke, I'm afraid.”

Well, fuck.

*

Harry went to the nursing station upon arriving at St. Mungo's and asked after Malfoy. He was given a list of Malfoy's very extensive injuries and was reminded that although he might look fine outwardly, his body was healing on the inside and that he was still very fragile. Harry sighed. He'd have to try extra hard to quell the inevitable urge to wring Malfoy's neck.

He also asked how he was found and by whom. The Healer's aide told him that a Joshua Norton had discovered him in a nook behind his Knockturn Alley shop and had flooed the hospital for help instead of moving him. She added that it was a good thing as Malfoy had a small spinal fracture in his neck that would have been problematic to cure had he been moved before the medics could reach him.

'So, definitely no wringing his neck,' Harry thought to himself with a sigh.

He thanked the Healer and made for the room. He was half expecting Malfoy to be holding court, ordering people around and demanding things so he was shocked to see the man lying quietly in bed, a thoughtful expression on his face. He had time to wonder if Malfoy had changed since their last encounter before Draco spoke.

“Oh, you're fucking kidding me,” Malfoy snipped and Harry was relieved. Still the same old Malfoy.

“So,” Malfoy said with a sneer. “What can I help you with on this fine day?”

“You can tell me exactly what happened today,” Harry said, sitting in the chair beside Malfoy's bed.

Malfoy was silent for a few minutes, long enough for Harry to get impatient and clear his throat. Malfoy gave him a scathing look. “Give me a minute, would you? Events are a little blurry, what with the severe head trauma.” he said with a sniff.

“Fine, take however much time you need. Clearly I have nothing better to do than to sit here and watch you think.” Harry leaned back in the chair, trying to keep his temper in check. It seemed that just being in the same room as the pointy git made his temper rise.

“Prat.”

Harry didn't allow himself to reply. He didn't think saying 'Fuck off, you smeggy git,' would entice Malfoy to talk. The man in question had turned to the window, gazing out of it with the same thoughtful expression Harry had glimpsed when he'd entered the room. It made him look softer, less abrasive. Harry's nose wrinkled in puzzlement. Malfoy looked almost...attractive.

'No,' he told himself firmly. 'You will NOT go down that path with Malfoy of all people. Last night was bad enough.' He leaned back and gazed at the ceiling, trying to clear his mind of any thoughts regarding both Draco Malfoy's possible attractiveness and memories of the man he'd met last night.

Malfoy had yet to speak and after about five more minutes Harry suspected he was doing it just to piss him off. He ground his teeth in frustration.

“Are you about ready yet?” Harry snapped.

Malfoy turned to face him. “I thought you had all day,” he said with another sneer. Merlin, but Harry hated that sneer. No, Malfoy was definitely not attractive in the slightest.

“I lied. So if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if we could just get down to business.” His temper was rising again. Damn. No one could make him feel fifteen again better than Draco Malfoy.

“Fine, fire away,” Malfoy said.

“Fine.” Harry sat up and leaned in. “You were found in a dodgy corner of Knockturn Alley, and the Healer said you were barely alive. Do you know who attacked you?”

Malfoy hesitated. “No, I...” he paused. “It's blurry, I can't really remember much.”

“What is the last thing you remember?” Harry was trying to treat Malfoy as if he was just another victim, which of course, he was. Minus years of rabid animosity followed by five years of pretending he didn't exist.

“I was in the Bush and Barrel for a pint,” Malfoy began.

“Rather early in the day for drinking, wasn't it?” Harry interjected with contempt. 'So much for the any other victim thing,' he thought with a mental wince.

“Not all of us have to slave away for the Ministry in order to eat, Potter,” Malfoy said haughtily.

Harry's ire flared. “Well not all of us are lazy sods with nothing more productive to do than get pissed before noon, Malfoy.”

“Whatever, Wonder Boy,” Malfoy snapped with derision. “Can we get on with this?”

“Fine,” Harry said. “Who were you drinking with?”

Malfoy hesitated and Harry could see the wheels in his head turning.

“Terence Higgs,” Malfoy said. “But he cleared out before I was finished.”

“Did you speak with anyone else?”

“A couple of people,”

“Oh?” Malfoy was going to make Harry fight for every bit of information, Harry just knew it. “And what were you talking about?”

Malfoy looked away again, heat rising on his face. Was he blushing?

“I was...uh, well...” Malfoy seemed to be fighting the words, but he finally spit them out. “I was looking for a shag, alright?”

Harry sat back. That was all?

“Many loose women in Knockturn Alley at eleven in the morning, Malfoy?” Harry couldn't help but be amused at Malfoy's discomfort.

“As it happens, no,” Malfoy snapped. “Not that it's any of your business.” Malfoy was pissed now, his eyes like chips of ice set in a scowling face. Despite his defensiveness, or maybe because of it, Harry was certain there was more he wasn't telling.

“So you couldn't find yourself a tart. What happened after you left the pub?” Harry asked with a smirk. He did so enjoy pissing Malfoy off. He would certainly enjoy it more if only it didn't go both ways.

Malfoy glared at him some more. “I was walking up the alley to my usual apparition point when someone yanked me between a couple of buildings. The next thing I knew, I was here with the headache to end all headaches. And I'm getting another one having to answer your insipid questions.” Malfoy turned his lip up in another sneer.

“We're trying to catch whoever did this to you, Malfoy. You should show some gratitude.” Harry glared back.

“Fuck that, Potter. I don't know who it was and unless you have a Time-Turner you can use to nip back and figure it out, I can't help you anymore,” Malfoy hissed.

“Don't you want to know who did this to you?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Of course I do, you twat,” Malfoy snapped. “The bastard broke my head and my wand!”

Harry sat back, stunned. “He broke your wand? No one mentioned that.”

“Well it's true,” Malfoy said. “It's right there.” He pointed to the bedside table where Harry saw the shards of Malfoy's hawthorn wand in a shallow box.

*

Draco was seething. Truthfully, he was more angry with himself than with Potter. He had contemplated telling the truth, but the idea of not only confessing his sexuality to the Git Who Lived, but admitting that he'd let himself be overwhelmed while conscious was too much. And then there was the threat Higgs had made before he'd left Draco for dead. Draco knew he was more than able to avoid Higgs and in doing so, another beating. No speccy Auror was going to convince him to tell.

Potter had proven to be the same prat Draco remembered from school, the past five years had not changed that in the slightest...he was still able to get Draco's hackles up with a few words. One thing that had changed was Potter himself. Instead of a scruffy boy in over sized clothes and bad glasses, Potter was dressed smartly in Auror robes and new frames that actually suited his handsome face.

'No!' Draco thought. 'He's not handsome, he's a prat. A self righteous, do-gooding, holier than thou...oh,' Draco's thoughts stopped suddenly when Potter turned his intense greener than green eyes on him. 'Who am I kidding? Potter is hot.' Draco swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the twitch his cock gave when Potter stood and strode around his bed to have a closer look at the pieces of his wand. Damn, but those robes fit him well. Draco bit his tongue in an attempt to gain control of himself. He would not jump into making a mistake identical to the one that had landed him in the hospital.
“Wow, whoever it was really did a number on it, didn't they?” Potter was fingering the pieces, the expression on his face one of...sadness? Draco frowned.

“Yes, he certainly did. And I was quite attached to that wand,” he said with a sad smirk. “Not everyone can claim that their wand defeated Voldemort, can they?”

Potter looked up at him, his eyes as intense as ever. Draco shivered. Not from arousal. No, definitely not.

“No, they can't. It's too bad, it was a good wand,” Potter said, turning from the box and facing Draco again. They stared at each other for a moment and Draco could swear he saw Potter's neck and cheeks flush with pink.

“I've always wondered,” he said, meeting Potter's direct gaze. “Why you used my wand. I know all about the Elder Wand and that's why you were able to defeat him, blah, blah. But when you gave it back to me you seemed to imply that you'd been using it for a while before that day. And I've always wanted to know why.”

Potter shuffled and looked down at his feet for a moment before meeting Draco 's eyes again.

“It felt good,” he said simply.

Draco almost choked, disguising the slip under a fit of coughing. He felt Potter handing him a glass of water and took it gratefully, using the time to compose himself. He felt certain that Potter had not meant those words in the way Draco heard them. It was doubtful Potter had any idea of the innuendo in those words. He really needed to get a handle on himself. And get Potter out of there so he could forget this meeting had ever taken place.

“Thank you,” he said, handing the glass back once he'd calmed down. “You...uh. It felt good? What do you mean?”

“I mean that, out of all the wands I captured that day, it felt the best to me. It was more compatible with my magic than any other I'd held, except my own and the Elder Wand. Even better than Hermione's and I'd used hers for quite a while after mine was broken.”

“Well, that's...” Draco was unsure what it was, exactly. “Interesting.” he finished.

“I'm sad to see it go,” Potter said softly, with an expression that Draco could not describe. “It was a good wand.”

“Yes, it was,” Draco replied, meeting his eyes again. He might be injured, but he still hadn't had a shag in months. He'd better get Potter out of here before he broke down and propositioned the man. That was sure to go over badly.

“I think I'm ready to sleep now,” Draco said, turning his head. “If you don't mind.”

“Oh, alright then. I'll just go.” Potter walked around the bed, turning back to Draco one more time. “I'll need to talk to you again,” he said firmly. “Try to think of anything else that might help, until we know who did this it's possible that you or someone else could be in danger. It's important that we find out what happened today and why.”

“Sure Potter, come back whenever you like,” Draco said condescendingly. “I'm not going anywhere. At least tonight.”

“Right,” Potter said. He turned and left the room without another word.

Draco leaned back against the headboard, sighing. He shifted and willed his cock to calm down. It had taken it upon itself to harden while Draco was trapped under Potter's green gaze, but Draco didn't fancy a wank in this place. The Healer could come back at any moment. Besides, he had other things to worry about than his sad lack of a sex life. Potter would be back, and the questions would only get harder to answer, he was sure of it. Draco didn't think that Potter would continue to be fooled by his story. If there was one thing Potter was known for, besides his temper and Boy Who Livedness, it was his persistence. He never gave up.

Draco wished he could still hate Harry Potter the way he had in school. The prat's attractiveness was beginning to lessen the sting of his personality.

*

Harry left Malfoy's room in a state of confusion. He realized that he hadn't actually managed to get much information out of the man, and was annoyed at himself for letting the discussion go off course.

He was also upset about Malfoy's wand. That was, if what Malfoy had said was the truth, and Harry was not certain it was. The Healer's report had noted that Malfoy had been covered in the pieces of the wand, so it was broken after the attacker was finished. Malfoy had clearly not been in a position to use his wand at the time, so what was the point to be made by breaking it and dropping the pieces over his unconscious body? It would make more sense if Malfoy had been awake.

But there was still the issue of breaking the wand...if Malfoy had been a Muggleborn, Harry would consider the possibility of a Death Eater sympathizer having attacked, perhaps then the action could be explained in the context of the attacker not believing he was worthy of a wand. However, this was not the case, Malfoy was a pureblood, and lived an exemplary pureblood lifestyle, as far as Harry knew. Maybe because Malfoy had not proven himself a loyal unwavering Death Eater? It was something to consider.

Harry made a mental note to look into Terence Higgs and talk to him, as well as make a visit to the Bush and Barrel and find out who Malfoy had talked to that day. He was also determined to get more information out of Malfoy...his story was not sitting right with Harry, he was certain that Malfoy had been holding something back. Why he would hide information that could help to capture his attacker Harry had no idea. But then, he had never understood Malfoy's reasoning before, so why would now be any different?

And then there was Harry's newly discovered awareness of just how attractive Malfoy was. Not to mention his newly admitted vulnerability to that attractiveness. He was suddenly more grateful than ever that he had been successful in putting Ginny off. He had so many things to ponder, all of it weighing him down. He needed to decipher it all for himself before he would be able to articulate it to Ginny. He wasn't even sure he wanted to. Last night had been undeniable, making him certain he had to break up with her. Things had been falling apart for a while now, and this was the final nail in the coffin of their relationship.

He knew Ginny would not accept it. She would fight it with everything she had, and she would hate Harry for putting her through it. In a way, he knew he would deserve her anger and he was sorry that he was going to hurt her, but there was nothing to be done about it. He had been under far too much pressure during that stage in his life when most people came to terms with their sexuality, so it wasn't really his fault that he was just realizing this about himself now. Perhaps twenty-two was a bit old to finally be cluing in, but Harry had never been the most observant of blokes. Especially not when it came to himself.

Harry shook these gloomy thoughts away as he exited St. Mungo's into Muggle London. He was tired, hungry and not eager to go back to the office tonight. It was late enough that he wasn't concerned about missing anything important, nor would he be missed. It would be better to start fresh in the morning. He found a shadowy spot to transfigure his robes into something more suitable before taking to the streets. He walked vaguely in the direction of his flat, pondering exactly where his life was going and if he was ready to come clean about it all.

After almost an hour of wandering, he found a place to get some takeaway and then slipped into an alley to Apparate back to his flat. With all the uncertainties weighing on him, he just wanted to get home.

He landed just inside his front door, putting the food down to transfigure his robes back before stripping out of them and hanging them up. He kicked off his shoes and padded into the kitchen with the food, rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt before digging in.

The food was hot and tasty, the beer he had with it was cold and smooth, and soon he felt a bit better about everything. He sent the dishes and leftovers away with a flick of his wand before grabbing another beer and padding into the living room. He plopped down on the couch to watch the telly for a bit before showering and heading to bed, but he wasn't even halfway through his beer and a rerun of Red Dwarf when someone knocked on the door. He was very tempted to not answer it, especially as he had told Ginny he wouldn't be home tonight, but the knocking was persistent.

Sighing, he stood up and went to the door, opening it with some apprehension to find that it was, indeed, Ginny on the other side. He braced himself for the inevitable redheaded storm.

“Hello Ginny,” he said, pushing the door back to let her in.

“I knew it!” she exclaimed, clipping his shoulder on the way by and causing the beer bottle to fall to the floor with a thunk. He sighed and picked it up, looking mournfully at the spilled beer and the remaining foam in the bottle before banishing the mess.

“I knew you would be here.” She stood just inside the living room glaring at him accusingly. Harry put the bottle down and stared back at her. It was time. He could not go on like this.

“You did?” he asked.

“I ran into Gawain and asked him how long you would be gone for, and he told me you hadn't gone further than St. Mungo's,” she said, daring him silently to deny it.

Robards had always had a soft spot for Ginny. He was friendly with Arthur and had worked with Bill, Charlie and Ron through the course of the last few years. He had come to look on Ginny as a favourite niece and it had caused problems for Harry in the past. Quite frankly, he was sick of dealing with it. He was tired of his boss relating all his moves to his girlfriend.

“Did it ever occur to you that I wanted a night to myself? A whole blessed night where I didn't have to walk on eggshells constantly, worrying that I would say the wrong thing and set you off?”

Ginny drew back. “Is that how you feel, Harry?” she asked, her voice soft but dangerous.

“Yes, it is,” Harry replied. “Frankly, after the row we had last night and the way the past few months have gone, can you really blame me for wanting a night of peace for once?”

“We wouldn't have had that row if you didn't keep pushing me aside, Harry,” Ginny said. “You treat me like some doll you only take down to play with when you're in the mood, and there has been precious little of that lately,” she accused.

“I need space, Ginny!” Harry yelled. “You're always here, always demanding something from me, and I just don't have anything left to give.”

“I do not demand...” she started but Harry cut her off.

“You do! You want my attention on you, always...we go where you want, when you want, on your terms. We eat what you want and watch what you want, and talk about what you want and I am sick of it.” Harry had stalked across the room and was now standing right in front of her.

“Don't be ridiculous Harry,” she scoffed. “We went to that restaurant you wanted just last week.”

“After you browbeat me into going out in the first place. I wanted to stay home and you knew that. I just can't do this anymore Gin. It's not working.”

Her face went white. “What do you mean it's not working? We can make it work if you would just compromise a little.”

Harry threw up his arms in disgust. “If I would...” He stopped, knowing that if he went down that road again it would only delay the inevitable.

“Never mind,” he said softly. “I'm not going to argue with you, Ginny.”

“Good,” she said. “Then why don't we go to bed and have some make up sex?” She stalked toward him with a lascivious look on her face and all it did for Harry was to make him wonder how he had fooled himself into believing he wanted her in the first place.

“No.” He took a step back, keeping her at arm's length. “This argument is over because we are over Gin. It hasn't been working for a long time and we've just been fooling ourselves.”

“We aren't over Harry, we're just going through a rough patch,” Ginny said, her brow furrowing in exasperation.

“No, Ginny. It's time to be honest with each other. I know you aren't happy lately and I've realized that I'll never be the one to make you happy.” Harry sat on the arm of the couch and gazed at her earnestly. “And I...well, I need to be honest with myself about what I really want, and that means I need to be honest with you. Because this isn't fair to either of us, and I'm done trying to hide.”

Ginny was even more confused. “You do make me happy, Harry,” she began but Harry just shook his head and said, “Do I? Really, Gin?”

Ginny paused, looking lost. Harry felt guilt overwhelm him that he had let it get this far. He should have ended it when the first inkling of doubt had arisen.

“Well, you have, and...what are you hiding then, Harry?” her voice was soft again, and worried. “Are you seeing another woman?” Her eyes began to moisten and as much as it would hurt her, Harry only wished it was that simple.

“No, I'm not seeing another woman, Gin.” He sighed and looked at his hands, unable to meet her eyes. “In fact, that's a big part of what's wrong. I...lately I've been feeling that I've taken things for granted for too many years, and I've realized that I don't feel the way everyone expects me to.”

“What do you mean, Harry? If there's no one else, what do you have to hide?”

Harry laughed humorlessly. “What indeed. I guess the fact is that I can't hide it anymore, and it directly affects our relationship.” He took a deep breath and told himself to just get on with it. Come clean, make a clean break and start living for himself instead of everyone else.

“Last night, when I left here...I wasn't looking for anything in particular, but I met someone.” Ginny jerked as if he had smacked her.

“I thought you said there wasn't anyone else,” she said, her voice filled with anger again.

“There isn't,” Harry replied. “This person isn't a part of my life now and won't be in the future, but it just confirmed what I think I've known for a long time. I haven't had the courage to face it, but I can't keep hurting you.”

Harry took another deep breath and looked her straight in the eye. “I slept with someone last night.”

Ginny gasped and her eyes filled with tears as she shook her head in denial. Harry continued, determined to say it out loud for the first time.

“It was like a revelation, Ginny. The...the bloke I met showed me things I didn't know were possible. It felt the way sex is supposed to feel, I think.”

Ginny stopped sniffling suddenly and looked up at him. “You...you had sex with a, a bloke,” she said it so softly that Harry could barely hear her.

“Yes, I...I'm gay Ginny. I...last night showed me what it could be like, and I can't go on lying to you anymore.” Harry felt like a cad for leading her on all this time, but he could do nothing about it now except be honest and deal with the consequences.

“Oh my God,” Ginny said, sitting down, her face white. “You...with another man, Harry? That's...” She seemed at a loss for words. Harry understood, he felt pretty blindsided himself.

He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. Before long Ginny spoke again.

“You said it felt like sex was supposed to be, I...what does that mean, Harry? That it never felt good for you? Was our entire relationship a lie?”

“No,” Harry insisted. “I care about you Ginny, I'm just not...and the sex was...fine, but it didn't feel as good as everyone says it does, you know? There just wasn't any spark.”

Harry knew he was hurting Ginny, but he had to get it out, she deserved to know.

“So now you think you're...gay,” Ginny said, her voice hard, unbelieving. Her face was screwed up in a scowl and she wouldn't look Harry in the eye.

“I don't think I am Ginny, I know it. I'm so sorry I cheated on you, and I'm sure you hate me for it, but it just happened and I couldn't not tell you. I don't want any more lies between us.”

“Well, you're right about one thing,” Ginny said, standing. She stalked over to where Harry was sitting and smacked him hard across the face. “It's over. I'd never stay with someone so...ugh, it's unnatural and disgusting Harry.” She turned and picked up her purse, heading for the door.

“Ginny, I,” he began, but she turned to face him once more, cutting him off.

“I don't want to talk with you again, Harry,” she said firmly. “You disgust me. If you want to be some kind of pervert, then go ahead, but I won't lower myself to that level. And to think that I thought I was in love with you. Ugh.” And then she was out of the door, leaving Harry confused and hurt, rubbing his sore cheek.

*

Harry woke up with a headache. 'It must be stress,' he thought to himself as he rifled through his bathroom for a headache potion. But despite the pounding in his head he felt lighter than he had in a very long time. His time of trying to hide himself from Ginny was over and although he was puzzled and hurt by her reaction, he could not regret it. He was finally free to be who he was, and he was planning to make the most of it.

'Starting with...bugger. Starting with Draco Malfoy.' Harry shook his head in resignation before turning on the shower. There was nothing for it, he was going to have to see Malfoy again, today in all likelihood. To his surprise, the prospect was not that daunting...despite Malfoy's prickly demeanour and prat like behaviour, the man was hot. Which could become a problem if he let it, but he was determined not to. Besides, what were the chances that Malfoy was also gay? And even if he was, there was no way he would be interested in Harry. So, he could see the prat and brush aside any attraction he might feel, without the awkwardness of wondering, 'Does he like me too?'

Harry decided to floo to work, making his way through the morning crowd easily. Once he was at his desk he sent out a request for information on Terence Higgs, busying himself with taking note of what he knew about the man while he waited for the file to arrive.

Harry remembered that Higgs had been a Slytherin, and had been the Slytherin House team's Seeker his first year. He had been replaced by Malfoy in their second year, as Higgs had graduated. He had been tall, broad and handsome, if Harry remembered correctly, but he could not recall having seen the man since he left school after Harry's first year. He made a mental note to ask if Malfoy and Higgs were in regular contact, or if they were merely acquaintances.

The requested file made its way into his office very quickly...the Ministry had made efforts to streamline and raise efficiency and it had worked fairly well. Harry was the first to admit that Hermione's charm work was way above par and the filing/retrieval system she had set into place was excellent. Ever the over achiever, that one.

After reading through Higgs' very short file, he jotted a note requesting an interview and sent it to Higgs' office, which he had discovered was in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. More specifically, Higgs was up and coming on the International Magical Trading Standards Body, working with other countries in regards to imports and trading of both magical and non magical items. Harry thought it sounded like a fairly interesting career and was curious to meet the man. He had no wife or children, one sister and no other marks or notes in his file. He had not been involved with the Death Eaters, Harry was pleased to see. According to his file he had been out of the country on business when the war was heating up.

Shortly, he received a terse note in return, telling him that Higgs was available at 9:45 that morning. Pleased that things appeared to be moving quickly, he set off to find Ron Weasley and a cup of tea, not necessarily in that order.

*

“Morning,” Harry said cheerfully as he strode into Ron's office, tea cup in hand. He sat down in front of Ron's desk and sipped. “How's Hermione today?” he asked. Hermione and Ron had broken the news that she was expecting a baby a couple weeks ago, to much surprise. The baby was due much sooner than either of them had anticipated, and Hermione's all day version of morning sickness had been very hard on her.

“She's alright,” Ron replied. He seemed distracted. “Bit of the usual, but...” he trailed off, turning away from Harry with a nervous look. “Umm, Harry?”

“Mmm, poor Hermione,” Harry said with wry grin.

“Harry, is it true?”

“Hmm? Is what true?” Harry asked, peeking at Ron from behind his cup. He noticed that Ron looked uncomfortable, he was shuffling papers and not looking Harry in the eye. “What's up, Ron?”

“It's just...Ginny came over last night and she was...she said it was over between you.” Ron looked up at Harry finally.

“She was telling the truth, Ron. I can't lie to her anymore,” Harry spoke earnestly. Ron avoided his gaze and didn't say anything else, so Harry went on.

“I guess that means she told you why.”

“Yeah, umm...she was pretty upset about the whole thing. I don't blame her, I mean...Harry, are you really...” Ron seemed unable to find the words he was looking for.

“Gay?” Harry thought he'd make it easier on Ron. “Yeah, I am. It's been years since I've wondered and I can't pretend it'll go away anymore so, yeah,”

“Oh.” Ron seemed at a loss. “I was hoping she was wrong. Harry, Hermione told me that Muggles are...okay with it, but you know how wizards are, and it's not like I can just ignore everything I've been taught overnight.”

“What do you mean, I know how wizards are? Are you saying it's okay for wizards to marry Veela and have half blooded kids, but it's not okay that I'm attracted to men instead of women?” Harry was flabbergasted. He knew the wizarding world was rife with prejudice, but he never imagined they'd be against homosexuality. Even the Muggles were past that particular bias.

“Well...no, it's not,” Ron replied. His face was a mirror of the revulsion Harry had seen on Ginny's face the night before and it shocked him. “At least the men who marry Veela are able to produce magical offspring. What do you think will happen to us if...that was okay? How many magical folk would stop having kids? We can't afford to lose any, Harry. The Muggles already outnumber us.”

“But that's...so provincial.” Harry said, frowning. “You know that's the same as Voldemort's pureblood supremacy thing, don't you?”

“No, it's not,” Ron snapped back harshly. “If it weren't for the Muggleborns we'd have died out years ago. We need them desperately to keep magic alive. It's people like you who are a danger to our society!”

Harry stood up, anger blazing through him. “People like me? I saved this bloody world and sacrificed my whole family and now you're telling me I'm not entitled to be happy?”

“Harry, that's not what I said...” Ron tried, but Harry was beyond listening.

“No, it is what you said. Being gay is so horrible that I should just forget about how I feel? Ignore who I really am and live a lie?”

“Well, it's not that horrible is it? Just find yourself a pretty little girl and get married...I'm sure Ginny would be happy to take you back if you told her you'd been mistaken.”

“But I'm not. And being with a woman would just make me miserable.”

“How could it make you miserable, Harry? I don't understand why you wouldn't want a woman.”

“Let me put it this way, Ron,” Harry took a deep breath. “Could you be happy married to a man? Having sex with him even though you aren't really attracted to him, and pretending every day of your life that it's what you want, even though everything inside you screams that it's wrong? Could you live your life like that?” Harry's voice had calmed, but he was still very upset. Ginny's reaction to him made a lot more sense now.

“Eww, Harry, no!” Ron exclaimed. “I could never,”

“Exactly,” Harry lifted a brow. “I could never be with a woman. I don't like girls, Ron. Period.”

Ron sat for a few minutes, looking slightly green. Finally he met Harry's eyes again and said quietly, “You'd better go, Harry.”

“Ron,” Harry began, but the look on his friend's face was plain. Now was not the time. Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and blinked back tears of hurt and frustration. Then he turned and left Ron's office without looking back.

*

Nights were long and boring in the hospital and Draco slept badly, tossing and turning for a few hours before finally falling into a light slumber. He knew from experience that it was the potions, but it was not helped by the looming return of Harry Potter. Draco knew that Potter didn't really believe what he told him, but he didn't know what else to say. He had learned his lesson in regards to Higgs, he had no intention of giving away who had attacked him. Besides, he really didn't want Potter of all people to know he was gay. Potter hated him enough already and Draco felt sure that if Potter knew, then he would tell a few people. Weasley for sure, and from there the chances of it getting out were much higher. Almost certain, in fact.

Then there was Potter himself. He was far too gorgeous and commanding for Draco's peace of mind. Potter had changed. A lot. Sure, he had been enthralling when he had defeated Voldemort, but that was a particular circumstance. Besides, Draco would never admit that he had been hard the whole time Potter had been facing Voldemort that night at Hogwarts. He was just so...powerful. It had fueled Draco's wank fantasies for a very long time afterwards, and although he had never before aspired to getting into Potter's pants, he was beginning to realise he would love nothing more than to do so.

Unfortunately, Potter had been snogging the girl Weasley before the sun had set on Voldemort's demise and Draco had gone to his bed in the dungeons to have his first Potter fantasy wank. And he had come harder than ever before. He knew there was no chance he would be gracing Potter's bed any time soon, more's the pity.

Draco was snapped awake when the Healer entered his room in the morning. She smiled at him and began to cast spells over him, checking that the potions had finished their work and asking him if there was any residual pain. There was, but not enough that he wanted another pain potion. They muddled his mind and he needed to be in top form to come up with a reasonable way to deflect Potter.

“You can go home today,” the Healer told him. “In a few hours I'll check that your bones are back to their former strength and if they are, you're free to go.”

“Thank you,” Draco gave her a grateful smile. Knowing he was going to escape soon made him unusually gracious. He managed to have another nap after breakfast and didn't wake up until his lunch was delivered. He was more than ready to leave - besides a short trip to the loo that morning he had been in bed since the previous afternoon and he felt positively stifled.

He had finished his lunch and had dressed in his repaired robes when the door opened again. He turned toward it eagerly, expecting it to be the Healer. It wasn't. It was Harry Potter. Clearly, the universe was shitting on him.

*

After leaving Ron's office, Harry had a hard time getting control over his emotions. He'd had no idea that the wizarding world was that homophobic but the reality was beginning to sink in. If his best friend - a man he had been through so much with, a man who had been raised by the most loving and tolerant people Harry knew - could react that way then he had no idea just how bad it could get. When he added Ron's response to Ginny's reaction, Harry began to feel sick, his stomach in knots. He had no idea where to go from here. He needed to find out more but Ron was not the person who could give him answers. Talking to Hermione might help - Harry got the feeling that Hermione had talked to Ron and lessened his initial reaction to the news, but she was raised in the Muggle world like himself, and would not have the perspective he needed.

What he needed was someone who had been raised a wizard but was either gay or not prejudiced against gays. The problem being, if wizarding society was that strongly against it, how would he find a gay wizard he could talk to about it, much less one to shag and even less, how would he ever find someone to love? He could feel his window of opportunity closing on him, the more he thought about it.

But he was determined that he would not live a lie. He simply could not pretend that he was attracted to women - the very thought of dating and marrying one was untenable. He spent a few minutes bringing himself under control before making his way to Terence Higgs' office.

He was ushered in immediately upon arrival and sucked in his breath at the sight of the man gazing out a charmed window.

“Mr. Potter, how pleasant to meet you,” Higgs greeted him with a small smile.

“Mr. Higgs,” Harry said, striding forward to shake the man's hand. He was pleased to find that his memory was not faulty, Higgs was tall and very handsome indeed. He had a full head of wavy blond hair and piercing blue eyes that were set off by his high cheek bones and full lips. His shoulders were broad and he was taller than Harry, but his build was lean and wiry in a way that identified him as a former seeker.

Harry shook his strong hand, admiring the man with an appreciative eye. It seemed that telling only two people that he was gay had enabled him to truly admit it to himself, and his libido was certainly eager to prove it. He pondered for a moment just how one went about finding other gay men to date - the offices of the Ministry of Magic were certainly no Muggle club like the one in which he had picked up his first male shag.

His attention was drawn back to the moment when Higgs asked in a gruff but pleasant voice, “What can I do for you today, Mr. Potter?”

Harry took the proffered seat and set his mind back on the job.

“I'm investigating a brutal beating that occurred yesterday in Knockturn Alley, and I was pointed in your direction by the victim.” Harry noticed the tightness in Higgs' jaw, and filed the information away for later perusal.

“How horrible,” Higgs replied. “I had no idea, who was the victim? Is he alright?”

Harry frowned...did he mention the victim was a man? He didn't think so, but Higgs was waiting for an answer, so he brushed the doubt aside. “He'll make a full recovery,” Harry began. “But the brutality of the beating was quite pronounced and the man in question has no memory of the incident, which is why I'm here.”

Higgs looked interested, so Harry asked him simply. “Did you notice anything strange during your discussion with Draco Malfoy yesterday morning?”

“Draco Malfoy?” Higgs' brows shot up his forehead. “He was the victim? Merlin.”

“Yes he was. Can you tell me anything that might help me in locating the culprit?”

“I...no, nothing I'm aware of. Draco and I spoke briefly about Quidditch, we were both Seekers for Slytherin,” he informed Harry, who nodded in acknowledgement. “I left after only a short conversation and haven't seen him since. I didn't notice anyone or anything out of the ordinary but, as I said, I left before he did.”

“I see,” Harry said. “Do you and Mr. Malfoy meet often?”

“Are we friends?” Higgs asked and Harry nodded. “No, acquaintances I would say. I graduated his first year and we've met occasionally at parties and such, but we're not particularly close. I have seen him several times at the Bush and Barrel in the past few months, but we've not spoken often.”

Harry consciously took in Higg's casual manner and ease of speaking, admiring the fit of the man's robes slightly more unconsciously, but noting nothing out of order.

“Have you any idea what might have prompted the attack?”

“No, I'm sorry to say I don't. Malfoy is an amiable enough fellow, snobbish and rather haughty, but then again, so are the majority of the purebloods I know. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Well Mr Higgs,” Harry began, standing up. “I have no other questions for you at the moment, but if you do remember anything else, I would appreciate it if you would let me know. I would like to see this taken care of as quickly as possible.”

He reached over and shook the man's hand again. He didn't need to, but far be it for Harry to shun a fit bloke with such a firm grip.

“I most certainly will, you can be assured. If you talk to Malfoy again, let him know I'll keep my eyes and ears open.”

“I will. Thank you.” Harry nodded his goodbye and, with one last look at those broad shoulders, left the office.

Harry thought about what Higgs had said, both with words and body language but he could not find any hidden meanings or clues to make him want to investigate more. He had more questions for Malfoy than he had answers, so it seemed that another visit to the prickly man was in order.

In all fairness, Harry had not acted kindly to Malfoy the day before. Between his annoyance that Robards had given him this case and his frustrations with Ginny mixed up in his guilt about his one night stand with the Muggle bloke...to his past conflict and enmity with Malfoy himself, he had not been in a proper frame of mind for the interview. He would have to endeavour to do better this time around.

*

“Come back to grill me some more, Potter?” Draco asked when the Auror came into the room.

“Well, yes,” Potter answered. “But I need to apologize to you as well.” He approached Draco and stood with him by the window.

“Apologize?” Draco was confused. “For what, exactly?”

“For being a prat yesterday, like you said. I wasn't in a great frame of mind and I'm afraid I was a bit abrasive. I let our history colour the interview, and for that I am sorry.”

Potter looked truly apologetic and Draco was taken aback. This open earnestness was endearing, and Draco was feeling rather smitten. He had to shake his head to loosen the web that Potter was unknowingly weaving within him.

“Oh, well. Apology accepted,” Draco replied. “That means rather a lot to me, considering the source.” He couldn't help but smile at Potter and a thrill raced down his spine making him shiver as Potter smiled back. Merlin help him.

“Great.” Potter's grin was infectious. Draco felt more like a schoolboy than he had when he was a schoolboy. “Are you being discharged? I have a few more questions for you, but if you'd like to do it someplace else, that'd be okay too.”

'I'd love to do it someplace else,' Draco's inner slut provided. 'My bedroom, yours, up against the wall, over this window ledge, anywhere.' Draco closed his eyes and tried to will his arousal away, but it was not easy.

“I'm actually just waiting for the Hea...” he began but before he could finish the thought the Healer he had been speaking of entered the room, smiling brightly at the sight of Draco up and dressed. She gave Harry a smile laced with a soft blush that Draco found annoying, but really, he could hardly blame her. The man was gorgeous.

“Mr. Malfoy, how good to see you up and about. I take it you are feeling better then,” the Healer stated and Draco nodded.

“Much, thank you ma'am,” he replied. “I'm more than ready to leave if you would be so kind as to release me.”

She blushed, but approached him in a professional manner and drew her wand. “Well, let's do a final scan to make sure you are healed up and you can be on your way.” She chanted the incantation and waved her wand in front of him, covering his chest, abdomen and face before pulling it back and smiling widely at him.

“You're the picture of health Mr Malfoy, and free to go. I do hope you are able to avoid such accidents in the future.”

“As do I,” Draco agreed, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles lightly. He was rewarded with a deep blush and an indrawn breath. 'Yup, still got it,' he congratulated himself. He might be gay but he was also a raging flirt and he was not in a position where he could flirt with his choice of gender, so flirting with the ladies was the only outlet he had.

Thank you for everything,” he said as he turned to go. “Come, Potter, let's take this somewhere a little more comfortable,” he added before he could turn the flirting off. He berated himself mentally and hoped that Potter was still as dense as he had been in school when it came to the attempts of others to flirt with him. He'd survived one beating at the hands of a homophobe that week, the last thing he needed was another.

He didn't stop to see Potter's reaction, choosing instead to exit the room without a backward glance.

Part Two