Truly Madly Deeply

Chapter Sixteen - Weapon Of Choice

~ Quidditch Pitch ~

Harry sat watching his team practice the formations Ron had devised over the Christmas break. Officially, Ron was the captain and usually assessed the team's progress but since he was a Chaser he was heavily involved in the play they were working on so it had been decided that Harry, having a fairly passive role, would watch to see what worked and what needed fine-tuning. That was what was supposed to be happening. Harry's mind, however, had drifted.

Draco was being painfully evasive. Any mention of their upcoming wedding and he'd find some way to change the subject - usually by seducing Harry, a method that hadn't failed yet. Harry knew he was being manipulated but he just couldn't seem to think straight when Draco was lying on top of him.

Actually, now that Harry really thought about it, Draco was refusing to talk about anything past graduation. Harry frowned. Draco had accepted his proposal, but what if he only did it to keep Harry happy? What if he never intended to go through with the wedding? Harry himself had often caught himself daydreaming about it and their life together afterwards (particularly the honeymoon!). But what if Draco didn't feel the same way?

Veritaserum, Harry thought suddenly. When I proposed to Draco, he was under the influence of Veritaserum, so surely that means he actually wants to marry me-

"Harry? Are you okay?"

"Can you hear me? Hello-oo?"

"Is his nose broken?"

"Ewww, blood!"

Harry blinked and opened his eyes. He raised his hand to gingerly touch his face. He pulled his hand away and looked at it. Yep, blood. What the hell had happened?

"Harry?"

Ron, that was Ron sounding so worried, Harry thought.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Ron demanded once he'd assured himself that Harry was going to be okay, once Madam Pomfrey had worked her magic of course. "Why didn't you move?"

"Move?" Harry asked, confused by all the questioning.

"When the bludger came at you - why didn't you move when we yelled at you to get out of the way?" Dean asked.

Oh my god, Harry thought. I really must be self-centred, damn Draco and his Selfishness Lessons. How could I not see a Bludger headed straight for me? He ignored the questions of the rest of the team and pulled himself up. He wobbled slightly and grabbed Ron's shoulder for support.

"I'm okay. I just need to get this fixed," Harry said, indicating his obviously broken nose. "Keep going. It looks great. I'll see you at dinner."

The remaining members of the Gryffindor team watched as Harry walked away.

"If he didn't see the Bludger, how could he see our strategy?" Ginny said, wrinkling her forehead in confusion. Everyone else ignored Quidditch strategy in favour of discussing Harry's injury.

"I can't believe he took a Bludger to the head and he's still walking," Seamus said, admiringly.

"That's my Harry," beamed Ron proudly. His smile faltered when he realised what he'd said. He looked around at the curiously amused expressions of his teammates. "I mean...he's not mine mine, he's Draco's. I just mean, he's the Harry I've always known. You know, tough as old boots. Oh, hell, stop looking at me like that! I'm with Hermione remember!! I'm straight!!!"

"Sure," said Neville teasingly. He was a surprisingly effective keeper. "I think you're protesting a bit too strongly there, Ron. Suffering from a bit of Harry-envy, are we?"

"No!" shouted Ron. "No," he said, more calmly. "I just...you know what? Forget it. I'm going to take a shower."

Ron stalked off with the taunts and laughter of his teammates following him. I thought captains were supposed to get a bit of respect, he thought bitterly. Oliver Wood never had to put up with this shit!

~ The Great Hall ~

Harry came into dinner that night a little bit later than usual. Madam Pomfrey had been her usual annoying self and had plied him with potions and spells. His nose was no longer broken (although it was still a nice shade of purple) and although his pride wasn't broken, it was definitely a bit bent out of shape. He was supposed to be the Seeker, for god's sake. The youngest in a century! And he couldn't see a Bludger coming straight at him.

Harry plonked himself down at the Gryffindor table next to Ginny. She was talking animatedly to Dean and hadn't noticed him sit down which was great because Harry wasn't in the mood to socialise. If it weren't for the fact that he'd missed lunch, he wouldn't have come down.

Draco sat on the other side of the Great Hall watching Harry carefully. He'd noticed Harry's nose immediately but he'd already heard about the injury - such was the Hogwart's grapevine. It was Harry's mood that had him worried.

The dark haired Gryffindor was moping about with a decidedly dismal expression. Definitely not happy, though Draco. It's not as if you don't know why, he chided himself, it's all your fault that he's feeling so bad. I really don't think distractions are going to work this time, even if they do come in this incredibly gorgeous package.

It's crunch time, Draco. You need to decide what is most important to you. Harry has told you time and time again that he can look after himself. Maybe Lucius will leave him alone, he thought doubtfully. Look, it's time to get real, Draco. Harry's happiness is the most important thing, right? Right, Draco replied to himself. Then forget about that pathetic excuse for a human being who calls himself your father. Give Harry what he wants.

I don't know....

Chapter Sixteen - Weapon Of Choice