Malicious Intent - Part 11 (H/D)

[sesheta66]

Title: Malicious Intent – Part 11
Author: sesheta_66
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 4K
Rating: Eventual NC-17
Warning: none
Summary: Harry’s world is upended when he’s asked to investigate a break-in and threats levied at Draco Malfoy. He’s never told anyone about their short-lived but intense relationship, and now, five years after it ended, doesn’t seem the time. He’s a professional, so he will investigate, find and arrest the culprit, and get on with his life. What else can he do?
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

To start at the beginning, click here.

Or to read at AO3, click here.



Malicious Intent – Part 11

Harry arrived at home and collapsed onto the sofa, elbows resting on his legs and head in his hands. His entire body shook as he forced himself to breathe. In. Out. In. Out. His stomach roiled but he swallowed down the urge to vomit. Betrayal clawed at him from his core.

He laughed harshly. Well, weren’t they a pair? He’d felt sorry for Draco after Lucius had betrayed him, had tried to control him. Lucius at least had never pretended to be anything but a bastard.

But Ron. And Ginny. They’d always – always – professed to be in Harry’s corner. They’d supposedly been disgusted with how others had deceived Harry, had tried to manipulate and control his life according to what they thought was best. The knife in his back twisted a little more. Dumbledore’s betrayal had hurt – as Snape had said, he’d spent Harry’s life preparing him for slaughter – but in the end, Harry had come to realise that not all was as it had seemed. Dumbledore hadn’t been preparing him for death so much as taking a calculated risk, hoping for, and indeed banking on, Harry’s survival. A small distinction for some, but since it had paid off, Harry had accepted it.

Ron had been disgusted by the Dursleys’ lies and appalled that they’d kept the truth from Harry his whole life. He’d also consistently and repeatedly said how much he’d wished he could have confronted Dumbledore and given him a piece of his mind. He could have – should have – done things another way. Should have trusted Harry with the knowledge of what needed to be done. Should have let Harry make that choice at the outset, not in the heat of the moment, in the middle of a war, while watching his friends dying around him. Ron had been furious, and although Harry understood why Dumbledore had done what he had, and had defended him to a point, Harry had also welcomed Ron’s indignation on his part. He’d felt that someone really cared about him unconditionally. Like a brother.

But now? God, he felt ill. Trying for some perspective, he reasoned that Ron hadn’t been throwing Harry’s life away, hadn’t manipulated him into a course of action to follow a predetermined path ... or had he? Had it been as he’d told Draco, that it was for Harry’s own good? Or had he manoeuvred things so that Harry and Ginny would end up together? Had he done it for Harry, for Ginny or for himself? Did it even matter?

And Ginny. Fucking hell, he felt used. Not once in the last five years had she even hinted that she knew he’d been involved with Draco. He thought back, trying to remember the precise time they’d started seeing each other again. He couldn’t pinpoint it. Things were all tied up in family. The Weasleys were his family. He’d been there so often, the lines had blurred. When had they gone from mutual grief and comfort over the death of Fred and so many others to something more? Harry now began to question every conversation they’d had during that time, to see if things had developed naturally or if every word, every touch, every action had been choreographed to lead to their eventual reconciliation as a couple.

Ginny had always been a strong, resourceful girl and had grown into a headstrong, determined woman. She’d learned at a young age, as the baby and only girl in the family, to work people and situations to her advantage. Is that what she’d done with Harry? Or had she simply been looking out for him? And again, did it matter?

He didn’t question their love for him. He didn’t – he wouldn’t – minimise his own feelings for them either. But this calculated, unrepentant attack on Draco was not something he could stand for. And their utter disregard for Harry’s own feelings rankled more than he would have thought possible. This wasn’t some small decision they’d taken away from him. This had been his life. He’d shut down completely and poured himself relentlessly into his work after Draco had ended it. Something that, funny enough, Ginny resented. But he’d needed to do it. He’d needed to prove himself worthy of at least some of the praise people had bestowed on him. Prove to himself he wasn’t so horrible a judge of character, despite having been duped by someone he should have been wary of. He’d turned inward and shut off much of the world since then.

And – he choked out a laugh at the irony of this – he’d resisted any sort of real commitment to Ginny, not able to trust himself to know if she, or anyone else for that matter, could ever really love him. Love him for him and not for his name or what he represented.

How had he not seen? How had he not known? He felt like an idiot.

Maybe he hadn’t worked things out, but perhaps a part of him had known something was off. Perhaps he hadn’t been completely closed off to love, but rather had been wary of what his relationship with Ginny meant. He’d never been all-in and maybe that’s why things had gone the way they had. Maybe that’s why they’d become little more than friends.

And until he’d seen Draco again, he’d been carrying on with his life, oblivious to what he was missing. He saw friends occasionally and – as Kingsley had pointed out numerous times – devoted nearly all of his waking hours to his job. He hadn’t given himself the time or space to figure out that he wasn’t happy at all. That he was coasting through life rather than living it.

His thoughts returned to the confrontation they’d had with Draco. How had they found out? He’d told no one. He wondered if Draco thought he had. If that had weighed in on his decision to cut things off with Harry.

He tried to be angry with Draco, too. After all, he hadn’t told Harry anything either. But, Harry realised, why would he have? He’d spent his life surrounded by people who manipulated each other, spoke in code, and rarely gave a straight answer. It wasn’t in his nature to be open and honest about his feelings, not if it left him vulnerable. It just wasn’t what a Slytherin would do. And, after years of outright animosity towards each other, he and Harry had only been together for a few months when they’d confronted him. What was a few months against a lifetime of self-preservation?

He couldn’t excuse Draco’s actions outright, but he couldn’t condemn him for them either. And he had shown Harry the truth in the end. A truth that seemingly pained him as much as it did Harry. They’d have to talk. Really talk. Even if it changed nothing, they deserved to have the closure they hadn’t had five years ago.

But that would come later. Right now Harry needed to figure out what to do about Ginny and Ron.

By the time Ginny returned home, Harry had made up his mind. He’d gone out to pick up dinner from a Muggle restaurant close enough to home for him to walk off some of his anger, and grabbed a bottle of wine while he was at it. Nothing like comfort food to ease the way into an uneasy conversation.

When Ginny walked into the kitchen, she breathed in contentedly. "Pad Thai?"

He nodded. "Bottle of wine chilling, too. Why don’t you wash up, we can eat, and then we’ll talk, yeah?"

She smiled and nodded. "Be back down in twenty."

"I’ll keep it warm."

She kissed him on the cheek and he only just managed not to recoil.

While she was upstairs, he dished out the food and poured two glasses of wine, casting a stasis charm to keep the food warm and wine cold. He sipped his wine slowly while he waited, hoping to calm his nerves while still maintaining his focus. He had no illusions about how this night would end.

She returned, freshly washed, her long hair damp and wavy, her face open and relaxed. She looked so young and pretty that he found himself transported back to happier times, those fleeting, carefree days back in school when they’d fallen for each other. He found himself again wondering how they’d got to this place. She really was so very beautiful, inside and out, that he spared a moment to feel badly for what he was about to do, but forced himself to focus. He’d made his decision and he would not back down.

"Cup of tea?" he asked after they’d finished. She had practice again in the morning and he had no desire to dull his senses, so they’d only had one glass of wine each.

"Sure," she said, once more smiling up at him. Again he felt a pang of guilt that he tamped down.

He brought their mugs of tea into the front room and sat on a chair facing her. "So," he said, "you wanted to talk?"

She put down her cup and nodded. "I did."

"So ... talk."

She frowned a little before plunging ahead. "I was talking to Hermione last night."

"I gathered."

"And she said that I should tell you how I’m feeling."

"Smart woman."

Encouraged, she smiled and leaned forward. "I ... I thought we’d be married, or at least engaged, by now."

"So you said last night."

Her face fell slightly. "Isn’t that what you want?"

He took a sip of his tea, then put it down and sat back. "I did some soul searching today," he said. "Thought about how, exactly, we got to this place."

She cocked her head to the side and gave him a curious look. "And?"

He’d thought about it for a long time and still wasn’t entirely sure of the answer. "Well, after the war, we’d gone our separate ways. After everything, I guess I’d thought we’d drifted apart for good. We were still family, but not ... not like we’d been."

She frowned. "But we got that back."

They hadn’t, really. "How did that happen, exactly?" he asked. "Don’t get me wrong; I just couldn’t really pinpoint that moment, you know, when everything fell into place."

She fidgeted in her seat, clearly not expecting the conversation to have gone in this direction. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I remember clearly how we got together the first time. I’d been watching you all year, something had clicked in my brain early on and I’d realised you were more to me than my best friend’s sister."

"Thanks?"

He laughed. "No, really. You know that. I’d started looking at you differently, started appreciating you for who you were as a person, as a girl, and then I kissed you and the rest was history."

She smiled. "In front of the whole common room."

He chuckled. "I just couldn’t wait until later."

Her smile widened. "That was a great year."

"It really was," he agreed. "But then the war came and we split up."

"You mean you dumped me."

"I didn’t want to."

"I know, but you did all the same."

"Yeah. And then after the war ..."

Her brows furrowed and she started to wring her hands. "I thought you’d come back to me."

"I thought so too," he admitted. "But something changed. We changed. I changed."

"You did. But I never gave up," she said, lifting her chin in that stubborn way of hers. "I knew we were meant to be. There was never anyone else for me."

He considered her words and wondered just what lengths she’d go to in order to get what she wanted. "Is that why you did it?"

She narrowed her eyes in confusion. "Did what?"

"How did you find out?"

She looked even more perplexed. "Find out what?"

"I know," he said.

Silence permeated the room, resting heavily over them. She didn’t say anything but he watched her process his words, run through all possible options in her mind. He saw the moment when everything clicked. She hesitated for a beat before shakily saying, "You know?"

Done with the pretense, his voice turned cold. "Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. You’ve insulted my intelligence enough already, thanks."

"Seriously, Harry, what are you talking about?" Her eyes didn’t meet his as she scrambled to deny the truth.

"Draco."

He watched her giveaways. Her eyes flashed, if only for a moment, but it was enough. She was caught and she knew it. She swallowed several times and darted looks around the room. Looking for an escape, perhaps? Then she drew in a breath and sat upright, draping herself in a mask of arrogance and bravado.

"What difference does it make how I knew?"

Now they were getting to the heart of the matter. "Well, you see, Ginny, I was very careful. I mentioned nothing to anyone, never let on. Not once."

"Pfft. That’s because you knew what you were doing wasn’t right. It was disgusting."

Harry clenched his teeth together. That he hadn’t expected from her. "Disgusting, hmm? Is that what you tell your friends, Hannah and Millicent? That they’re disgusting?"

"Of course not!" Her indignation seemed genuine. "I meant only because it was with Malfoy, of all people." She said his name like it was a vile thing, something to be avoided at all costs.

"Oh, so not because he’s a man, but because he was a Death Eater?"

"Yes."

"I see. Just so we’re clear on that." He was relieved. He’d hate to think he’d misjudged her that much. "So, back to the original question: how did you know?"

She hesitated, but Harry didn’t ask again. If there was one thing he’d learned about interrogation techniques, it was to let silence work for you. It’s human nature to want to fill the silence and, more often than not, guilty people gave away a lot when they filled silences.

Ginny did not disappoint. "Fine! I followed you! Satisfied?"

"Not even close," he said. "Why did you follow me? What had you hoped to find?"

"I was worried about you."

Harry snorted. "Right."

"I was. You were becoming more distant."

"So it was about you, not me. You needed to know why I wasn’t more ... I dunno ... affectionate towards you?"

She shrugged. "How did you find out?"

Harry laughed. "Oh, no, you don’t get to ask the questions, Ginny. Let’s just say I know what you did and I want answers."

"What do you want me to say, that I’m sorry? That I shouldn’t have done it? Well I won’t. I did what was right. You deserve far better than the likes of Draco Malfoy."

"You mean I deserve you."

"Well, I like to think I’m a damn sight better than a Death Eater, yeah."

"Really?" he asked, knowing it was cruel but not giving a damn right now. "You know all about who he was – who he is – and you know that you are better than that?"

"Yes!"

"Well, here’s what I know, Gin." He crossed his arms over his chest, closing himself off to her. "Draco isn’t the one who went behind my back to manipulate a situation that affected my life."

"He was a Death Eater, Harry!"

"Draco was a kid that looked up to his dad. Unfortunately, his dad is Lucius Malfoy. He got thrown in prison and Draco was left to pick up the pieces. Voldemort took advantage of a lost kid who desperately wanted to prove himself to his dad, return their name to good standing, and get a little glory along the way."

"He was a Death Eater!" she repeated.

"True. But in name only. His heart wasn’t in it. At first, yes, with glory calling and his family torn apart. But he had no idea what he’d signed up for. And as time progressed, he couldn’t stomach the nastiness of it all."

"He almost killed Ron. Your best friend. And don’t forget Katie."

"He’d never intended to hurt either of them, but I won’t forget, believe me. And neither will he."

"Yeah, right. Stop making excuses for him."

"I’m not excusing what he did. It was wrong. It was stupid. He was desperate, caught between a rock and a hard place. Surrounded by Voldemort and his followers, he felt trapped. He was trapped. He should have asked for help, but never imagined anyone would help him and certainly not his father. Why would anyone want to help Lucius? So he tried to save his family the only way he knew how. When faced with the task he’d been charged with – to kill Dumbledore – he couldn’t. I watched him fall apart when Dumbledore offered him and his family help. He’d made all the wrong choices and he knew it. And he hated himself for it. Still does, I imagine."

"Good. He should. As far as I’m concerned, he can rot in hell."

"I don’t expect you to understand, or to forgive him, or his asshole father."

"I should hope not."

"But you and I fundamentally disagree on what he deserves. Dumbledore – even faced with Draco’s half-arsed attempt at killing him – thought he was worth saving, and so do I. In fact, he’s done a lot to redeem himself, if not his family, including working with the Ministry and testifying against Death Eaters and other sympathisers during the post-war investigations and trials. And he’s led an exemplary life since the war, from what I’ve heard." She snorted. "Look, I don’t expect to change your mind, but he’s not the person you think he is."

"I don’t know what you ever saw in him."

"That’s right, you don’t know. You never did. You never asked. I had no idea anyone even knew about us." He got up from his chair, unable to sit still while this agitated. He walked to the window and stared out at the night sky, dusted with cloud and sprinkled with a few twinkling stars. He wanted to be out there, breathing in the cool, night air. Wanted to be anywhere but in here with Ginny, the walls closing in on him. He turned back to face her, leaning against the window ledge, arms crossed over his chest. "But that’s not really the point now, is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that it wasn’t your choice to make. It was mine. You took that away from me."

"But you couldn’t see. You weren’t thinking clearly. Someone had to –"

"Someone had to what, Gin? Did you really think me incapable of thinking for myself? That you had to step in and do what was right for me? What I couldn’t manage to do for myself?"

She sniffed and held her nose in the air. "Well, yes, if you must know. You obviously didn’t know what you were doing and someone had to make you see reason."

He pushed off from the window and walked towards her. Looking harshly into her eyes, he said, "But that’s not what you did. You didn’t make me see anything. You went behind my back and manipulated a situation that was none of your business."

"Of course it was my business! You were meant to be with me."

And there it was. "So you did what was necessary to make that happen."

"I knew then and I know now that it was the right thing to do."

"But how could you know? You have no idea what he’s like. Or what I’m like when I’m with him. You had no idea what was going on between us, and yet you felt that it was your right to manipulate my life – manipulate me – to serve your own best interest."

"That’s not what happened."

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with her. She was as stubborn as her brother. And he was done with it. He’d had enough manipulation for a lifetime before she and Ron had confronted Draco and she should have known that. She had known that, but it hadn’t stopped her. The road to hell was, indeed, paved with good intentions.

"What I know is that I trusted you and you betrayed that trust."

"But Harry--"

"I’m going to gather some things and go. I’ll give you a couple of days to clear out your stuff, and I’d like you gone by the time I come back."

"But ... you can’t. We have a life together."

"We had a life together. One based on lies and manipulation."

"No! We love each other." She reached out for him, but he grasped her wrists and gently pushed her away. "You love me. You know you do."

"No, Ginny. Right now I don’t even know you. And frankly, I don’t even want to know you." He released her wrists and turned to go up the stairs. "Two days, Ginny." He threw up a shield so she couldn’t follow him and he went into his room to collect some clothes.

Unsure what she might do while he was out of the house, he cast protective charms on everything of value to him, and he returned to the front room. Ginny stood in the same spot he’d left her, face red – from fury or hurt, he couldn’t tell. Either way, it didn’t matter. It didn’t change the situation.

"I’ve given years of my life to you," she said. "Years."

Harry’s blood ran cold. "No, Ginny, you’ve taken years of mine." He put down his kit bag and glared at her. "That you can’t see what you’ve done is wrong, in so many ways, tells me all I need to know. I don’t want to see you or talk to you for a long, long time. Perhaps I’ll be able to forgive you, someday, but that day is not today. And it won’t be any time soon."

She looked down at his bag, then up at him, anger radiating from her. It reminded him of the Ginny in Draco’s Pensieve. Good. That would made this easier. "You’re going to him now, aren’t you? That filthy--"

"Stop!" Harry’s voice reverberated through the house with such force she jumped. "I am not going to anyone. I’m going away from you. And you’ve only yourself to blame. No one else." She looked poised to argue, but she remained silent, glaring at him.

"Not that I need to tell you anything, ever again," he said, "but I’m going to take some time, alone, to think about the shit show that my life has become. I can’t be around anyone right now. Two days, Ginny. And I mean what I say: I don’t want you here when I return. If you are, I can’t promise I’ll be very polite."

Her face hardened. "Is that a threat?"

He took a deep breath and sighed, exhaustion overwhelming him. "Of course not. But right now, I’m not telling you what I feel about all this, about what you and Ron did, and how I feel about you as a person, one who claims to love me. I don’t think you want to hear what I’d have to say. And if you’re here when I return, I may just say it. And then things will truly be irreparable."

"So," she said, her voice wavering and her eyes welling up, "there’s a chance?"

He reached for his bag. "No, Ginny. Without trust, we have nothing. It’s over. But there is a chance we could move on without hating each other. I’d like that. But if you don’t give me the space I need, even that may be out of reach." Before she could respond, he turned on the spot and was gone.


Continued in Part 12

Comments

[piratesmile331.livejournal.com]

That was satisfying, although my heart breaks for Harry.

[sesheta-66.livejournal.com]

Yeah. *hugs him*

[enchanted-jae.livejournal.com]

Since he's too much of a gentleman, I'll punch her in the face for him.

[sesheta-66.livejournal.com]

:D