[From Litha to Lammas]: A Game of Honesty, H/D, H/G, R, 6/7
Part Five.
Title: A Game of Honesty (6/7)
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this for fun and not profit.
Pairings: Harry/Draco, Harry/Ginny, Ginny/Astoria, Draco/Astoria
Content Notes: Heavy angst, open marriage, consensual infidelity, manipulation, undernegotiated polyamory, epilogue marriages but no epilogue children
Rating: R
Wordcount: This part 3900
Summary: Harry had agreed to an open marriage because he loved Ginny too much to lose her. But he struggled every day with jealousy of Ginny’s bond to Astoria Greengrass. He knew that Ginny was the opposite, and had encouraged him to find a lover of his own, but Harry only wanted his wife. At least, he thought so until Draco Malfoy offered an arrangement of their own that would have the advantage of making their wives pay more attention to them, and suddenly Harry is feeling, and watching everyone else feel, emotions of an intensity he never knew existed.
Author’s Notes: This is one of my “From Litha to Lammas fics” being posted between the summer solstice and the first of August this year, and one of the longest. It will be posted in seven parts. Also, please look at the content notes; the majority of this fic is an angsty mess.
Thank you again for all the reviews!
Chapter Six-Lies
“Now it’s your turn to break promises, is it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry told Ginny, and turned the page of the Daily Prophet. It seemed there were no rumors spreading yet about him and Draco, despite what Harry thought was a lack of discretion on both their parts. Then again, there weren’t any rumors about Ginny and Astoria, either, or Bill and Fleur and their lovers.
“You said that you would come meet me at the Burrow last night after dinner.”
Harry put down the paper and blinked at her several times before he winced. “Right. Sorry. I forgot. Draco and I were talking in his sitting room and…”
And it had been an ordinary conversation, really, partially about Quidditch and partially about ancient wizarding history and partially about the kinds of techniques that the Aurors used to investigate crimes. The sorts of things that Harry could talk to friends about. Only Draco had smiled at him, and it stole his breath, and he had completely lost track of time, only Flooing home when it was after eleven.
“So you’ve decided not to keep your promises in retaliation? How do you expect our marriage to survive?”
Harry focused completely on Ginny. She sat on the other side of the dining room table, hunched over, her hands pressing to her heart as if it were faltering. Her back was to the big window that looked out on a small scrap of garden, and the faint sun still made her hair blaze as if it was alive.
I love her. The words were fainter in Harry’s head and roused fewer echoes than they should have.
He sighed. “I’m sorry, Ginny. It wasn’t in retaliation. It didn’t even occur to me that I was breaking a promise. I just lost track of time. Next time, I’ll keep an eye on my watch and tell Draco that I have to go earlier.”
“I don’t matter to you at all anymore.”
Harry hesitated a long moment, because he was trying to be honest. “I love you,” he said finally. “But I don’t think that our marriage is as strong as it was a few years ago.”
Ginny lifted her head, the sun now lighting up the tears on her face instead of her glorious hair. “I suppose it’s useless for me to tell you that our marriage could go back to being as strong as it was if you just did one thing.”
“What’s that?” Harry could feel his anger rising like hackles. He took a sip of his lukewarm tea to try and calm himself.
“Give up Malfoy. Let me just have you and Astoria, and we’ll be as happy as we were a few years ago-a few months ago! That was when all this trouble started, really, when Malfoy decided that he wanted to sleep with you.”
Harry stared at her hard, but Ginny’s eyes were wide and hopeful, and she had never been that good a liar. She did believe what she was saying.
Which was enough to shake his heart, perhaps break it. He forced the thick words out of his throat. “Ginny, maybe you were happy then, but I wasn’t. I was miserable. I loved you and I was drowning.”
Ginny shook her head. “Just because I love Astoria doesn’t mean I love you less, Harry. I’m sorry about those evenings I forgot and stayed too late, just like you’re sorry about the way you stayed too late last night. Let’s forget it and move on. You and me and Astoria.”
Harry felt the tug of hope. It felt like seduction. In some ways, it would be so much easier to go back to that time, as miserable as he had been. It would mean that he was the innocent one, the put-upon one. It would mean he hadn’t done anything wrong.
But he knew now he had, both in breaking the promise to meet Ginny last night and because he had let things go so long without speaking up. “No,” he said. “I can’t have that, Ginny. We need to talk about things. We need to decide if we’re going to close the marriage, or get divorced, or say that-”
Ginny swirled up from her chair, standing with her hands flat on the table as if she was about to launch herself over it. “There’s nothing to talk about it if you mention divorce,” she whispered. “Have you even though about how hard it would be, Harry?”
“It would be damn hard,” Harry whispered back. Last year he had pictured it as a black cliff looming in front of him, one that he would have had to jump over if he was going to go down it at all. “But I also think that it would be better than living a lie, or being dishonest with each other.”
“Not that. I mean, what would we tell Mum and Dad?”
Harry blinked, a little caught. “That…we were getting divorced? I mean, Gin. We couldn’t lie and pretend we were still married.”
“But what would we say when they asked why? You’re not going to tell them that this is something I need before I’m ready to, I hope.”
“No. But I would say that we stopped trusting each other, and that’s true.”
“I know my mother, Harry. She wouldn’t be satisfied with that! She would ask and ask and ask, and sooner or later you would tell her the truth to keep her from bothering you, no matter what it did to me.”
Harry stared at her. “Well,” he said finally. “The part that we don’t trust each other is especially true.”
Ginny turned away from him and faced the wall. “Astoria never makes me cry like this,” she whispered. “She never makes me feel like I have to defend or justify myself. I love you, Harry, but why can’t you let me have what I need?”
“Because what you need is making me unhappy.” Harry heard his own words with a distant sense of unreality. He’d never thought he would actually speak them. “We need to talk. Fleur said that honesty is the best thing an arrangement like ours can have. We should-”
Ginny walked out of the room without looking at him.
Harry leaned back, rubbing his forehead, and stared at the Daily Prophet. At least the front-page story today wasn’t about him, he thought tiredly. But he didn’t know what to do right now. He couldn’t go back to Draco so soon, he didn’t know where Ginny had gone, and he didn’t have Quidditch or work to distract him today.
So maybe you should think about what you want.
And Harry did that, for a long time.
*
“So she won’t talk to you about it? She just runs out of the room every time you try?” Draco frowned and sook his head. “That’s strange. Since she’s the one who wanted this kind of marriage in the first place, you’d think she’d do everything she could to preserve it.”
There was an undercurrent in Draco’s words that made Harry look at him sharply. “Come on, Draco. You have the same kind of problems in your marriage. You wouldn’t have to date me if you could just come right out and tell Astoria what you wanted.”
“That’s true,” Draco said, after a long pause, and turned back to look at the waves.
They were walking along a beach of white sand that had actual-to-Merlin palm trees on it, and a sunset that painted the sky in rich purple and gold happening over the waves. Harry didn’t know where they were, but he suspected it was a long way from Britain, given the several Apparition jumps they’d taken to get there. It was gorgeous, and warm, and he did want to enjoy it, but Draco had insisted on knowing what was bothering him.
Harry reached out now and gently squeezed Draco’s arm, drawing his attention back. “Hey,” Harry said softly. “I’ve never been anywhere like this. Can we save talking about Ginny and Astoria for later?”
Draco hesitated, then smiled. It made Harry’s insides melt along with his doubts, that smile. “Of course,” he said, and slipped an arm around Harry’s waist. “Come over here. I ordered food for us ahead of time.”
“And they’ll bring it to the beach?” Harry asked. He followed Draco’s gaze to a table set up a short distance from the high tide line, and snorted. “Well, I suppose they will if you have enough money.”
“Don’t be silly, Harry. You have as much money as I do. You could be enjoying this kind of luxury if you let yourself.”
“I know,” Harry admitted as the sand shifted softly beneath their feet and they walked closer and closer. The table was carved of what looked like one huge piece of white wood, and the benches curved around it like the edges of a shell. Even from this distance, Harry could smell food that made his mouth water. “But-I like the way you spoil me. Is that okay?’
Draco gave a deep shudder and turned to cup Harry’s chin, staring into his eyes. “More than,” he murmured.
Harry let himself relax into the kiss, drifting along until he was panting dizzily and their food was probably cold. Then Draco guided him to the bench as if he was a precious thing and helped him sit down.
“I hope you enjoy fresh coconut milk.” Draco handed him what was indeed a coconut with the top cut and hinged open, and a small groove carved into the interior along which the milk could run.
“I’ve never had it,” Harry admitted. He took a sip and smiled at the sensation. It was sort of like drinking clouds.
“You do like it.” Draco grinned at him and reached for one bowl that was still steaming. Some kind of heating preservation charm Harry hadn’t heard of, probably. “Good. This is goat stew. Wait until you try it.”
“It looks like it has bones in it,” said Harry, a little warily, although the smell that rose from the bowl continued to tempt him.
“The bones are good,” Draco said. “Of course, if you like, I could always feed you, and that way you don’t have to worry about bones. I’ll be sure to keep them off the spoon.”
Harry rolled his eyes at him-there were limits-and set about eating the stew for himself, as well as a delicate soup after that that appeared to be mostly apricots, slices of still-steaming lamb, shrimp covered in a kind of coconut sauce, and something so rich with chocolate he honestly wasn’t sure what it was. Draco handed him another coconut when he was done with the first one, and ate some of the dinner himself, but mostly, he sat there staring at Harry, drinking him in.
“What?” Harry asked as he finished his third coconut. He ducked his head a little, and Draco promptly stood and came around the table to rest his hand on Harry’s cheek.
“Nothing,” Draco breathed. “Just that you’re a wonder.”
“I’d hardly call that nothing.” But Harry let his protests go as he tilted his head back and Draco kissed him again, bearing him back gently into the table, not shaking or crushing the dishes. Harry sighed and looped his arms around Draco’s neck. The kiss filled his head with the kind of clouds he’d been drinking.
Draco pulled back at last with one more gentle brush of lips and murmured, “I suppose you’ll want to go home now.”
“Actually. The sand looks pretty soft.”
Harry reveled in the way Draco’s mouth fell open before he slid to his knees. And then Draco was the one panting, while Harry opened his robes and ran his hands gently up Draco’s legs.
He wore nothing under the robes but pants. Harry eased them down, turning his head to the side to rub his cheek against Draco’s skin.
It was strange, doing this fully conscious, without the wonderful languor of a blowjob Draco had given him to soften the taste. But Harry was coming to accept that he must be more bisexual than he’d thought, and if nothing else, there was pleasure for him in watching Draco throw back his head and gasp as Harry took him into his mouth and gently sucked.
Smugness, too.
It didn’t take long for Draco to come, swearing under his breath as he spilled into Harry’s mouth. Harry coughed. He thought he swallowed a little more this time, but not much more.
“Sorry,” he added, spitting once. “I don’t know how long it’ll take me to get used to the taste.”
Draco promptly bent down and kissed him full on the mouth, which Harry supposed was a good thing. He obviously didn’t mind tasting himself.
“That was wonderful,” he purred. “And now, lie back and let me return the favor.”
*
Harry shuddered a little as he let the door fall shut behind him. He’d come back late tonight, although luckily he hadn’t had anything set up with either Ginny or Draco. The paperwork was murder every time he had to cast certain countercurses in the course of his job. The Ministry authorities seemed to believe that the countercurses were as bad as the curses.
All he wanted was to fall right into bed. Maybe not even take off the Auror robes off first.
But no, he had to come home to an argument, raised voices and clattering shoes. Harry grimaced as he took off his cloak. Maybe he could sneak past the kitchen, where it sounded like Ginny and Astoria were arguing, and just go straight upstairs.
“Oh, so you knew, did you?” Ginny was currently snapping, her voice sounding like frozen ice cracking on a river. “And you didn’t think to tell me? Did you think that I’d have let Malfoy within a mile of him?”
Harry halted. He wanted to keep moving down the corridor, to refuse to be the kind of person who eavesdropped on conversations between his wife and her lover, but he couldn’t pick up his feet.
And the few things that could make Ginny sound like that...he felt nausea building up in his throat. Did Draco have some sort of sexual disease that he might pass on to Harry, who could pass it on to Ginny? Harry didn’t want to believe it, but he stood there and listened.
“Why should I have told you something that wouldn’t happen outside his wildest dreams?” From the sound of it, Astoria was pacing back and forth. She cursed softly, and Harry could imagine how she had banged her hip on the corner of the table. He and Ginny were always doing that. “When he first started talking about seducing Potter, I rolled my eyes at him. I never thought he’d succeed!”
Harry closed his eyes. Seducing?
“But then I heard you encouraged it, and-”
“I thought it made sense! It should be someone who had the same kind of arrangement, who could be discreet-”
“Ginny. Listen to me. Your husband is straight.”
“So, what? He’s not really been sleeping with Malfoy?”
“No, he has. I’m sure of that much, from the stupid grin that Draco is always walking around with. So it means that Draco is a lot better than I ever thought he was, and he did manage to seduce him. You can’t blame me for this! It’d be like me telling you there was the faint chance a dragon would land on you one day when you’re playing Quidditch. You would have laughed at me and told me to shut up, and that would be the right thing to do, too.”
Did Draco seduce me? Am I straight? Harry’s head was aching, and he doubted it was merely the pile of paperwork he’d had to complete tonight. Not anymore.
There was the sensation when Draco had touched him for the first time, and Harry had accused him of using a spell to make the touch feel good. Draco had indignantly denied that. Of course he had.
And Astoria wanted Harry and Draco to stop sleeping together. She wasn’t an unbiased source. Harry shouldn’t trust anything implied in an overheard conversation.
On the other hand, she didn’t know he was there, and she wouldn’t have a reason to lie.
Ginny was crying, and starting to argue something else through her tears. Harry whirled around and strode out the door, letting it fall shut behind him with a bang. He almost wanted them to hear it. He certainly didn’t care about hiding the fact that he’d been listening.
He’d had enough of dishonesty.
Harry actually ran back down the path to the garden gate, and, the minute he was beyond it, Apparated to Malfoy Manor.
*
“Harry! This is a pleasant surprise.”
Draco stopped talking when Harry walked straight through the door into the Manor and then turned around to face him. They were in the main entrance hall, with portraits peering at them. Harry wouldn’t have cared if they were on the moon. His head and heart were both pounding.
“Harry?” Draco asked cautiously.
I can’t just accuse him of seducing me or using a spell or something. I don’t think that’s him.
“Look,” Harry said, thrusting a hand through his hair as he paced in a circle, “I overheard your wife talking to mine. Ginny was accusing Astoria of not telling her something. Something about me and you. And then Astoria started talking about how she was sure I was straight and you seduced me. Listen, Draco. I have to know. Did you do anything when we started dating that wasn’t just ordinary-touching and things like that?”
Draco’s mouth had fallen open. “I swear, Harry. I swear I didn’t.”
And Harry did believe him. But he had seen, too, how Draco’s face had paled, and the instincts trained into him by fellow Aurors saw the way Draco’s hand twitched, as if he wanted his wand.
“So it’s not that,” Harry said, watching Draco closely. “But she knows something, something Ginny is upset about. Something that makes Ginny think she should have prevented us from dating after all. What is it, Draco?”
Draco closed his eyes. “If I asked you to trust me, and that it was nothing, would you listen?”
Harry’s own hand twitched. “But it’s not nothing.”
“Astoria is trying to make trouble between us. She’s getting as jealous as I hoped.” But Draco’s voice was hollow, and Harry took a step towards him.
“What? Were you lying about your reasons for wanting to date me? About your reasons for wanting her to pay more attention to you?”
Draco’s eyes opened again. “I swear, Harry, I was not. I did want her to be the one to call the arrangement off. I should never have agreed to it in the first place.”
Harry started to nod. Then he paused. “But you haven’t sounded as though you love her in the last few months.”
Draco took a step back.
Harry moved one forwards in response. “Draco.”
Draco said, “I told you the truth.”
“You said that you were in love with Astoria, and you wanted her to be the one to call the arrangement off.”
Draco’s chin tilted up. “I told you the truth,” he repeated. “It’s not my fault if you misunderstood me.”
“I want you to tell me how I misunderstood you,” Harry said. He felt as though someone was setting a fire in his head. He’d come to accept how things were working out in the last few months, come to accept that maybe his marriage to Ginny would end and it wasn’t such a tragedy, come to accept that he was bisexual, come to enjoy his time with Draco. Now, he had to wonder if Draco wasn’t being honest with him, either. “How?”
“I said that I was in love,” Draco said, voice flat. “I never said that I was in love with my wife.”
Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. There was nothing to say to that, but his emotions swung around inside him-
“You can’t mean that you’re in love with me.”
“You did tell me to tell you the truth. So, yes. I am.”
“How?” Harry asked, as thoughts seemed to fall to the floor of his mind with vast crashes. “You didn’t even fucking know me before the last few months! Only what the papers printed, and I don’t know, maybe Astoria told you things, but-”
“I knew you.” Draco was speaking in the same way, his chin tilted upwards, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths. “I saw how respectful you were to your wife, and I wanted to curse her for wasting that respect by sleeping with everyone else she fancied. I read about how you saved people, and I knew you didn’t do it just for the Galleons you got paid. I saw your smile in photographs, I heard you laughing when you were with your friends in public, I saw you unhappy but not reaching out to anyone else to bear the weight of it-”
“You heard me laughing when I was out with my friends? You saw how I treated Ginny? What?”
“I may have-followed you once or twice.” Under Harry’s incredulous stare, Draco admitted, “Fine, several times.”
“And otherwise,” Harry whispered, “you’re saying that you knew me from newspaper stories.” He licked numb lips. “I should have known this was moving too fast. I should have known this was too good to be true.”
“Harry, wait. I really didn’t use magic-”
“I’m not accusing you of that!” Harry snapped. Draco halted in the middle of reaching for him. “I’m accusing you of lying to me, when I thought you were the only honest person in this whole mess, and following me around when I didn’t know you were there, and thinking you know me-God, Draco, do you know how much I despise those damn newspaper articles?”
“It wasn’t all them! And some of the things they say are true-”
Draco stopped. Harry suspected it was the expression on his face. He shook his head and turned away.
“I am in love with you,” Draco said to his back. It sounded almost like a snarl. “You have no idea-”
“No, I don’t really know who you are,” Harry said. “And what hurts worst is that you were keeping secrets from me, and lying to me, and-I might still not have thought that you knew me well enough to love me if you’d told me the truth at the beginning, but at least it would have been the truth.”
Fleur was right. Ginny and I weren’t honest enough with each other, and it turns out that I can’t be honest enough with my other “lover,” either. I’m really not meant for this.
Draco was saying something behind him, but Harry was already outside and beyond the anti-Apparition spells. With a twist on his heel and a sharp crack, he was gone.
Part Seven.
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