Slut

Slut, Chapter 3: A Life Between Us

Draco,

By now you've noticed that the chain that binds you, has been broken. I cannot do this anymore. What we've been doing is wrong. No, what I've been doing is wrong. I know that I haven't said much to you other than some pillow talk. I've called you some horrid things, but I also told you that I love you.

All of these things, everything that I've said to you is true. I hate you. I love you. I need you. But, you have to go. I love you too much to keep going like this. I can't simply change how I treat you. I've tried. Believe me, I have. You being what you are, and after what you've done, I find it difficult to control what it is that I feel.

That night when I first recognized you in that club, I went outside fully prepared to bring you in. It was some madness that took me over and caused me to do what I did next. I was so lonely. I had gone there to pay for company, I had no idea that you were there. It was a foolish and insane impulse that caused me to bring you home and to do the things that I did to you. I never even thought myself capable of forcing another into that sort of act, and certainly not another man. It makes me sick to even think on it, to remember how you looked at me that night and how hard it was to face myself after.

I didn't know what to do with you then. I couldn't just turn you in to the Ministry. While I probably still have enough credibility that they would keep it quiet for me, they would all know. They would know that I am not perfect. That I am not the hero they all think me to be. Which is ironic, because I hate that they believe so much in me. But them not believing in me would be worse. If I'm not a hero, then what am I? Just a very put-upon man.

I don't know when it happened, but I decided then that what I had done was rescued you. And in some senses I had. You no longer had to run, no longer had to entertain strangers to have food and shelter. If I turned you in to the Ministry, you were likely to face the Dementor's kiss since you would not recant your beliefs. And to that end I determined myself to save you completely. I would be your hero. Your personal savior. I tried to have you meet the neighbors. I wanted you to learn to like Muggles and to understand that Muggle borns weren't so bad. But you were recalcitrant. You ignored what I said, brushed off any niceties any Muggles showed you, and contradicted me at every turn.

The punishments I meted out were out of anger, they taught you nothing. They were borne of anger and they were meant for revenge. I know you were not the one who put the wand to Hermione, Ron, Seamus or to Neville. I know for a fact, that you had fled the Death Eaters long before the killings really started. However, what you did do, I will never forgive.

Ginny Weasley was so very mixed up and so confused. You preyed upon her weak mind, seducing her to believe that we were all out to get her. You convinced her that we all thought that she was possessed again and that we would kill her. How could I forgive that? How can I forget that? It was because of her betrayal that Ron died. As much as I love you now, I cannot pardon you for that. Even as I write this, it takes all of my restraint not to hurt you again; not to make you scream in that terrible way Ginny screamed when the Kiss was administered to her.

And that is precisely why I have to do this. It is over. I love you. I don't think I'll ever love anyone as much as I do you. But I love you too much to keep you here, to keep treating you this way. So long as you don't recant, I'll never forgive you. I'll always love you. But I'll never like you. And, so long as I'm with you, I won't like myself either.

Most of your things are in a box on the table along with £3,000. That should give you enough to get set up somewhere else. I don't want to know where you are. I never want to hear from you again. If I ever see you again, I'll bring you in and face kidnapping the charges myself. It's what I should have done from the start.

I love you,

Harry

"And we're staring at
Each other
Like the banks of
A river
And we can't get
Any closer
But we've built a life
Between us"

"A Life Between Us"

Finn Brothers

AZKABAN, Feb. 10 - Death Eater Draco Malfoy, 23, son of convicted Death Eater Lucius Malfoy, received the Dementor's Kiss at 5:59am this morning for the crime of being a Traitor to Wizard kind and as accomplice in the murders of Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger in their home in Godric's Hollow. Attending the Kiss were Aurors Harry Potter, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphandora Tonks. This action followed Malfoy's shocking and dramatic surrender to the Ministry of Magic on the 14^th of January. When asked where he had been hiding for the past five years, Malfoy was quoted as saying, "No comment."

It's been six weeks since I watched Malfoy's soul sucked out of him. Well, it's not exactly the soul. Dementors feed on your happiest memories. When you get the kiss you lose all of those memories to those foul creatures. Permanently. They say it's your soul, but what is a soul but a collection of memories? And who are you if not a collection of your memories? I'm not sure why it surprised me to hear that Malfoy in his befuddled and defenseless state he seems to know my name. After all of the happy memories were removed he would be left with me, and what I did to him.

It wasn't long after I'd written that heart wrenching note to the only person whom I know I'll ever really love, the only person I've ever shown my whole, terrible self to; that I took up with his cousin Nymphandora Tonks. It doesn't make much sense to me why I did it other than that on some level I know that she is part of him. I ask her to make her hair blonde all of the time. She doesn't suspect why. She just thinks I like blondes.

I make love to her in the bed as I should've made love to Draco.

I treat her well and take her places, as I should've done him.

I surprise her with gifts, things I should've bought Malfoy.

I respect her differing opinions and don't judge her for her errors in judgment, as I should've done with the man I loved.

But one thing she'll never have is me. I belong irrevocably to Draco Malfoy.

I finally broke down and visited him today. He was a whimpering and pathetic thing. Malfoy doesn't know where he is or how he got there. He shudders and quakes in the corner of his cell. His fingers are scabby and the walls are blooded. Draco's silver eyes are unfocused and his head lolls as if propped up by a wavering stick.

But he did know one thing I discovered after I stepped into the dank pit of his cell because he gazed at me with comprehension for a desperately lucid moment. His voice scratchy from his manic wailing halted so that he could whisper, "Yours."