Becoming

Author's Note: Many thanks to my beta, Laurel for her work on this story. I'm pleased to note that I've been a tad enthralled with it as of late and I'm writing quite a bit for it now.

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Chapter 8 October 31st, 1999

I always found Halloween to be a dreadfully dull holiday. Even as a child I was forced to remain indoors while Muggle children got to dress up in ridiculous costumes and beg for sweets from strangers -I feel I got the better end of that deal. Some wizarding families would participate in such festivities, while others celebrated Samhain instead, which was another event that I was happy not to be forced into; something about throwing the bones of dead animals into a pit of fire never really appealed to me. This year Halloween fell on a Sunday, and since I now had a steadfast boyfriend in my sweet Minister Luke, I found more reasons to celebrate than I might have had otherwise.

We decided to meet at an intimate Italian restaurant in Muggle London called Passione. It was one of my favorite spots to eat and Luke was happy to oblige me even though he normally preferred to dine at more lavish restaurants. The place was not large or pretentious and the food was delicious, it reminded me of my frequent trips to the Amalfi Coast with my parents -back when my family and heart were still whole.

Even without the use of Ministry credentials we were seated quickly and as I absorbed the quaint view from our table I recalled that I had once daydreamed of taking Harry here on our first real date. Just the feel of the cozy, cottage-style setting coupled with the aroma of fresh herbs made me sure that Harry would love it just as much as I did. I even knew what I would have suggested he order if my daydream had ever come to fruition, but alas, as the weeks drew us nearer and nearer to the end of the year, the day of Harry's wedding to Ginevra fast approached. I needed to give up any hope I had that Harry would find his way to me instead of staying with the Weasley girl he was betrothed to.

"Drake, you 'zeem distracted," Luke mentioned lightly, his hand still covering my own as we sat down, trying to comfort me.

I shook my head and smiled softly at him. "Sorry, it won't happen again," I promised.

"Do you 'ave something you'd like to get off your chest?" he asked curiously, his blue eyes lighting up his face.

"I've been thinking of getting a job," I admitted, steering clear of the topic I was actually musing over when he asked. The name 'Harry Potter' was nearly a curse word these days. Despite my best efforts, apparently I still mentioned the man a great deal, and it became a sore spot for Luke. "I've begun preparing my resume and I'm thinking of sending it out next week to a few private firms that might not discriminate against my past."

Luke laughed, his smile reaching all the way to his eyes, and he shook his head in dismay. "Why bother?" he asked. "You don't need to work."

"No, I don't need to, but I want to," I argued, my eyes narrowing slightly even though I tried desperately to hide my displeasure at being laughed at. "My life needs purpose. I don't want to laze around the Manor all day milking the Gringotts accounts."

His laughter died abruptly on his lips and he scrutinized me for a moment. "You are serious?" he asked.

"Quite," I barked, more petulantly than I had intended.

"Well, I can't say 'zat I understand. 'Ad the position of Minister not been forced upon me by my father, I would spend all my time lounging on my yacht," he teased but I knew enough about him, after dating the man for more than three months now, to know that he wasn't actually joking.

"You and I are different that way," I pointed out sharply. We were different in a lot of ways, although most of Luke's traits I found charming. He was very flamboyant most of the time, whereas I usually remained quiet unless prompted these days. I was still perfectly comfortable as the center of attention, but I didn't seek it out the way I once did, mostly because the attention I would get now would be negative. Luke was also uncommonly generous. He often, without even thinking, would give others what they needed. He always made hefty charitable donations, and made sure that no one around him was left wanting -including me.

He pursed his lips slightly at my biting comment and looked generally put off, so I rubbed my thumb gently against the inside of his palm and gave him a placating grin. "Let's not fight."

"Fair enough. No fighting," he conceded easily and returned my smile with a soft one of his own.

We started scanning the menu, although I already knew exactly what I was going to order. I almost always got the same dish when I came here -the veal. I normally wasn't a huge fan of it, but here it was prepared perfectly with a butter and sage sauce that always made my tongue sing. It was that dish I would have suggested Harry order because I could just imagine the look of bliss on his face when that first bite entered his mouth.

"You're 'zinking about 'im again, aren't you?" Luke asked me carefully; clearly trying to disguise whatever emotion he was feeling with a blank mask.

"What?" I asked distractedly. He then pointed to my hand, which was twisting the silver band I wore round and round my finger, while I looked over the menu.

"You always touch 'zat ring when you're 'zinking of 'im," Luke observed and I tried not to wince, even though I knew I already looked guilty enough as it was.

"I'm sorry," I told him honestly -and I was. I wished I could stop dwelling on what never was and start focusing on the present. I wished I could stop wanting Luke's eyes to be green instead of the ocean deep blue that they were, stop wishing his hair were darker, messier and shorter. Stop wanting his forehead was adorned with a faded pink scar and hoping that he could one day provide me with the same feather light feeling I had when I was with Harry. But more than anything I wished I could get Potter's face out of my mind altogether, which seemed impossible -especially since the man kept popping into my life unexpectedly.

"He's over there," I muttered, gesturing with a nod of my head to a table by the window. During my mental rant I happened to look over to see the focus of my turbulent thoughts walking into the restaurant with his fiancée on his arm. They hadn't noticed me there and I preferred to keep it that way. Of all the places in London, why did he have to show up here?

Luke turned and looked for himself, watching as the waitress who had just given us our menus handed the same to Harry and Ginevra. "Did you plan 'zis?" he hissed after turning back to face me.

"No," I balked. "The last thing I want is to see Harry Potter," I continued, but it wasn't quite true. I did want to see Harry, just on a happy little date with the Weasel girl.

"'Why won't you just tell me 'ze truth about you two?" he asked, looking more hurt than I wanted to admit responsibility for.

"There is nothing to tell. We were enemies in school, I thought we became friends afterward, but I was mistaken," I replied vaguely and sighed to demonstrate how much I didn't want to discuss this. It cost me a lot to speak aloud about my affections for Harry, so I tried to avoid it outright and give minimal effort when I was forced on the subject.

"Fine," he scoffed. "If you won't tell me 'zen I will get it out of 'im instead."

"What!?" I exclaimed, hoping against hope he didn't mean what I thought he did, but before I could protest further Luke was catching the couple's attention with a wave and a very false smile.

"'Arry, Ginevra," he called rudely across the room before striding over to their table. I simply slunk down in my own chair and tried to eavesdrop on their conversation without drawing too much attention to myself.

"Minister Beauchamp," Ginevra sighed dreamily, just as vacant as she had seemed the night of the Ministry Ball; I honestly couldn't tell what Harry saw in her.

"Please, call me Luke, I insist," he replied, lathering his charm on thickly. Luke always knew who he could work that way, which, to his credit, was nearly everyone. "I was 'oping you two might join us."

"Er, thanks Luke but were-" Harry began, stammering over his words as his emerald eyes darted back to me.

"We'd love to," Ginevra interrupted, ignoring Harry's discomfort in the overwhelming wash of delirium that Luke's charming smile often caused. With a snap of his fingers, my date had the staff add another small table to ours and before I could run and hide in the restroom Harry was sitting directly across from me with his fiancée.

"See, I said we should 'ave dinner together and 'ere we are," Luke mused when we all settled back in. I was furious with him and probably not hiding it well, but I cared less and less the more I sipped at my glass of wine.

"How have you been, Draco?" Harry asked me, his voice as soft as a cloud and his smile awkward and crooked, just like I liked it. But it didn't pacify me I was still angry -angry that Harry was here, angry that Luke had invited him over and angry that Ginevra existed at all- and who better to take it out on than the man who ruined my life?

"Great, just great," I bit out. "Luke and I had a lovely intimate date planned but clearly things change. They always do when Harry Potter's involved, right?"

Harry flinched as if I had physically slapped him and I felt momentarily guilty, but this was the last thing I needed tonight so if I had to endure it, the least I could do was use this opportunity to get over Harry once and for all. He remained silent as I poured myself another glass of wine and waited.

"We can go," he offered eventually. "I really didn't mean to impose. Luke just-" he began, but I interrupted him.

"Yes, I suppose my boyfriend is probably in need of company other than myself after spending the entire week with me at his beach home. We had the best time just lounging nude in the sand between bouts of passionate love-making," I boasted unnecessarily.

Harry's mouth dropped open slightly and his eyes shot daggers at Luke before he reigned in his reaction to my mean-spirited words. I would be lying if I said his clearly jealous response to my relationship with Luke, both tonight as well as at the Ministry Ball, hadn't pleased me. Apparently it meant little to nothing to Harry, however, who quickly recovered and threw his arm around his fiancée's shoulders.

"So what brings you two 'ere tonight?" Luke asked the seemingly happy couple.

Harry paled slightly, his face falling and he pulled away from his fiancée to focus on his menu instead, which was apparently suddenly quite fascinating. "We're attempting to get Harry's mind off of something," Ginevra admitted when it was clear Harry wasn't answering. She shot him a pitying look but Harry didn't look up.

"Really?" Luke began jovially and he turned to wink at me. I realized he meant to pry, probably thinking that it had something to do with me, but in that same moment the significance of today's date struck me and I shook my head at him sharply. This was the anniversary of Harry's parents' untimely death and no doubt he'd rather mourn in private than be pulled out to dinner. How could his own fiancée not realize that?

"Leave it," I hissed at my date.

Unfortunately, that only seemed to fuel his interest and he pressed on. "What is it 'zat we're trying to avoid, eh?" he asked boldly. "Poor work performance, cold feet about 'ze upcoming wedding, a sordid affair maybe?" he offered. Luke made it sound like a joke but I knew he was just trying to gauge Harry's reaction to his words.

Harry fell for it, too, though not in the way even I might have expected. His eyes widened slightly and then in the next instant narrowed so sharply that I imagined the look Luke got in that moment may have rivaled the look Voldemort saw in his last seconds. "While you're prying into my life, perhaps you should do some legitimate research," Harry hissed at Luke's insensitive teasing. "My parents were murdered eighteen years ago, today."

I was surprised he'd said it, not because I didn't think Harry was courageous enough or even because I thought he hadn't moved on from the tragedy of his parents' demise, but because I didn't think he would deem any of us worthy of that kind of intimate knowledge had we not already possessed it.

Luke looked suitably chagrined and began to apologize profusely to Harry, who simply held his hand up in indifference. "You're not required to know, but as you seem to be checking up on me I would have assumed you already did."

"I-" Luke began to protest, but Harry shook his head again.

"I don't like liars, Mr. Beauchamp," Harry noted sourly though I gathered that regardless of what Harry thought Luke was lying about, he still wouldn't like him. I think Luke gathered that as well. "I know you've been accessing my file at the Ministry, as an Auror I'm alerted to such things."

"I was merely curious," Luke placated, "about the famous Harry Potter. Forgive me."

"No, you were curious about what connection I have to Draco," Harry corrected and to my boyfriends' credit he actually smiled in return.

"Very perceptive, Mr. Potter. I must say I am intrigued by 'zat exact thing, especially the way you looked at one another at the ball awhile back," Luke replied and I wanted to curl in a hole and die. Instead I decided to occupy my mouth with more wine. "Would you care to enlighten me so 'zat I no longer feel 'ze need to pry?"

Ginevra looked on as if stuck in a dream; she looked so confused that I nearly felt sorry for her as she glanced back and forth between her fiancée and my date. Had she really no clue that she was about to marry a man that didn't even exist? She knew nothing about him. I poured us all another glass of wine and filled mine a little more than the others and sat back to wait for the tragedy of Shakespearean proportions that was about to take place right in front of me.

"I hated Draco all through school. Every minute he was there, taunting me or my friends," Harry began to explain, his eyes set on me instead of on my boyfriend. "He was an epic arse," he laughed, though the laughter was harsh, not that of teasing, but at the same time reverent as if the sour memories were mingled with fond ones. Ginevra swallowed thickly beside him, as if she'd never heard that particular tone from his lips before.

"And after 'zat?" Luke pried.

"After that, he spouted off some tripe about owing me a blood debt for saving his life during the war. I didn't believe a word of it, but he said that didn't matter because he did." Harry was practically spitting the words out now, and his fiancée remained more and more left in the dark with every word he uttered; it was obvious she had heard none of this before. "I saved him and his mother from Azkaban, I went to his father's funeral, we spoke a time or two afterward and that's the extent of it."

The way Harry recalled things, so matter-of-fact and precise as if he were a Healer reading a stranger's chart, it made me livid. It filled me with so much hostility that I could hardly contain it -so I didn't. I refused to sit back and let Harry trivialize everything I felt, everything I was sure he felt too, but was just too much of a coward to do anything about it.

"You forgot about the kiss," I reminded him harshly, my anger and the amount of wine I had consumed suddenly getting the better of me. "There was that knock-your-socks-off, passionate kiss in your office, remember? Oh, and don't forget about my ring, the one that you wore right up until you gave it back," I added, waggling my finger and the shiny silver band that adorned it.

"Harry," Ginevra gasped, her eyes wide and shining with unshed tears; it was obvious she recognized the ring and it shocked her. I felt like rubbish when she looked from her fiancé to me and then back again, her face holding so much pain I could hardly bear it, but then I'd felt that way for months so it was about time someone else had a turn at it. Every time I saw them together or even thought of their impending wedding my face probably looked like Ginevra's did in that moment. "Is it true?" she asked, her tone begging it to be a lie, pleading with Harry to tell her that Malfoy was only lying as usual, but instead Harry only nodded.

"One kiss," he admitted. "It was months ago, Gin. I would have told you but-"

"But it meant too much," I interjected even though my mind knew it was time to stop talking and start fading into the background so as not to get hexed by one or both of the people sitting across from me. Unfortunately, there seemed to be a fermented grape blockade between my mouth and my brain.

"You wore that ring every day, you never took it off," she whispered, looking like she almost ignored my words altogether. Her eyes glared a hole through the finger Harry had worn the ring on. "And you lied to me about it. You wore his ring everyday and you told me it was an old family heirloom!"

Her voice was a bit of a shriek now, but apparently it wasn't frightening enough to make me stop talking. "It was a family heirloom, it was my family's heirloom."

"And you," she growled, rounding on me at last. "You knew he was engaged. You knew and you tried to steal him from me!" Her wand was out a moment later, no mind for the Muggles all around us who had no idea what was going on, and in the next second it was aimed at my face. "I should kill you right here, Malfoy. I should end the blight you and your family have put on the world."

I just sat there, ready to take whatever she dished out. I knew I deserved it in a way. I did know Harry was to be married and I tried to take him as my own anyway, regardless of who else it might hurt. I never had a thought for Ginevra's feelings, only my own.

"Ginny, stop this right now," Harry hissed.

"You're defending him still?" she cried, her wand hand shaking furiously.

"I'm keeping you from doing something that you'll regret," he reasoned.

"I won't regret it," she snarled, her cheeks puffy and tracked with tears. Her hand steadied once more and her eyes leveled on me. I think I even saw her lips move, but the Expellarimus that Harry shouted was far more prominent in my mind and Ginny's wand went flying through the air and landed with a clatter on the floor. Luke picked it up and handed it wisely to Harry, while I sat and stared at Ginevra, who was crumbling to the ground in despair. "You cheated on me," she was sobbing below the table ledge. "You lied and you cheated."

"Please, Gin. Let's just go home and talk about this," Harry pleaded, attempting to pull his fiancée from the floor of the restaurant. All eyes were still on us, half of them looking like they had stumbled upon a dinner show and the other half looking as if they were trying to find the nearest exit; I still wasn't sure which half to join.

"Don't you dare touch me," she warned icily, yanking her arm out of Harry's grip and pulling herself up. She spared one angry glance at me before turning to Luke and smiling demurely -if not falsely, and then stormed out.

"Harry, I'm so sorry," I pleaded grabbing for his hand, but he pulled it deftly out of my reach.

"Enough, Draco," he hissed. "You didn't have to do any of that, but I'm glad that you did. You just proved that I made the right decision, after all. I tricked myself into thinking you had changed, that you were this amazing person to be held and cared for but you're still the same malicious prat that you were at Hogwarts." His eyes seemed to gleam with pain as he spoke and he took a deep shuddering breath and looked down at the finger that used to hold my ring before looking back up at me. "Goodbye, Draco," he said softly, his tone tinged with regret, and left without another word.

My world crumbled in that moment just as deftly as I had made Ginevra's crumble just a moment before. I had fouled it all up, any opportunity to be a part of Harry's life was now gone, and I had no one to blame but myself.

"So 'zat's it?" Luke asked, pulling me out of my pity party. "You're so 'ung up on him over one shoddy kiss?"

"It wasn't shoddy!" I protested, louder than I would have had I not been intoxicated. "It was the best kiss I've ever had."

I had never admitted that out loud before and as I did I knew for a fact that it was true and that never, even if I lived a thousand lifetimes, would I ever forget the way Harry's lips felt on mine. Never would I find the kind of happiness I imagined I could have with the man who just walked out that door, not with Luke and not with anyone else. I was in love with Harry Potter and I had driven him irrevocably away.

"I see," Luke whispered, not angry or even upset; he simply seemed decided. "I shall leave you to your wallowing 'zen. I 'ad fun while it lasted Drake, but until you get over 'zat man you'll never 'ave room in your 'eart for another."

I sighed and wished I could feel something akin to regret at his words, but as I watched my boyfriend of the last three months walk out the door, all I could think of was how much more it hurt to watch Harry leaving me through the exact same path.

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Author's Note: Poor boys. They are just so dim, eh?