Ghost Of Love

Chapter Two

Draco fixed his frosty glare on Harry. "Why on earth do you want to know if Zabini is interested in you? You've never shown any interest in him."

Harry smiled bashfully. "I've been thinking a lot recently, about what we had before." He glanced up from under his overgrown fringe. "Also about what you and Conall seem to have now, and I want that. I want something steady, less fraught, and more predictable than what you and I had. Something more... Safe." The word 'safe' was uttered with the pure implication of the word boring; a fact which was not lost on the Slytherin.

"And you think Zabini can give you that?" asked Draco coldly.

"Well Conall gave you it, and he and Blaise are friends and seem quite similar," Harry said, seemingly oblivious to the clear annoyance in Draco's grey eyes. He glanced at Draco again to judge his level of irritation. "Of course, safety isn't the only reason I'm interested in Blaise, he is rather striking, that dark skin, his brown eyes. Ok he's not my usual type, but still..." Now Harry looked Draco shrewdly in the eye. "Nothing wrong with going for someone completely different is there? Conall seems to be the complete opposite of me, gold hair, blue eyes, very neat and controlled." Harry could see Draco was getting very pissed off, so he abruptly changed back to the original topic. "Besides, I was interested in Blaise before, he and I were starting to get quite close when you suddenly decided you wanted me, remember?"

A pink flush crept across Draco's pale cheeks, he clearly did remember. "So let me get this straight," he snapped. "You want me to play go between for my ex lover and my boyfriend's best friend?"

Harry almost smiled at the not so subtle note of anger tingeing Draco's words. Feigning surprise he said, "I'm sorry, I just thought that you would want me to find the same sort of happiness that you'd found with Conall." He put his concerned face on. "You are happy aren't you?"

Draco turned away sharply. "Yes of course I'm... we're happy." He answered in a clipped tone. He turned and strode towards the door saying, "I have to go, I'm late for meeting Conall." He paused with his hand gripping the door handle. Without turning he said, "I'll have a word with Zabini for you Harry, because I do want you to have what I have." And with that he was gone, the door closed behind him.

'Well well,' thought Harry, 'looks like there might be a bit of trouble in paradise. This could be easier than I thought.' He got up and dusted off his trousers. There was a good reason why Draco never sat down in this room unless Harry put a coat or blanket down first. 'Too bloody dusty,' thought Harry as he left the classroom to look for his friends.

Ron and Hermione were in the library, Hermione having insisted after being dumped by Harry that they spend at least part of their free period studying. However, they weren't actually studying, but were instead discussing the reason that a flushed Draco Malfoy had just stormed into the library and thrown himself down into the chair beside a rather surprised Conall MacDonald.

"Harry certainly didn't waste any time," whispered Ron looking over to where the two Slytherins sat talking in hushed voices. "Draco is not looking particularly happy."

"You have always had a talent for stating the perfectly obvious Ron," replied Hermione, also looking over at the not-so-happy couple. The younger boy seemed to be unsuccessfully trying to calm his lover down. "As I predicted, Harry has been his usual unsubtle self. I wonder what his master plan is this time."

"From what I can see over there, it's going to involve a lot of annoying Draco, probably accompanied by antagonising Conall, who is going to cry on his sister's shoulder, the inevitable result of which will be a lot nagging in my ear."

Hermione smiled. "How are things with Sorcha anyway? I haven't seen her much the last few days."

Ron groaned. "I swear she's almost as bad as you Hermione, she's been writing an essay for the last few days which isn't even due in for another week! I just don't understand; is it a girl thing or is it just that I happen to be surrounded by swots?"

Hermione ignored this and asked a very important question instead. "What's the topic of her essay?"

Ron just groaned and dropped his head onto the table. He was surrounded by swots. It had been almost bearable when it had been just Hermione and he had had backup from Harry. But then he went and fell for Sorcha MacDonald.

Ron smiled to himself; he had been with Sorcha for over a year now and he still loved her as much as ever. She only had to look at him with her hazel eyes in that special way for him to go weak at the knees; once or twice he had even found himself kneeling at her feet after that look, which had surprised them both.

Ron glanced over at Hermione who had buried her nose in a potions book; he was so lucky to have a friend like her. It had been Hermione that Ron had gone to when he realised how deeply he felt about Sorcha, and it had been she who had made him ask Sorcha out. He was still slightly surprised how easily Hermione had accepted his attraction for a Slytherin (he had been surprised at Harry's easy acceptance of it as well, but he now knew the reasons for that), once she got over the initial shock of Ron Weasley falling for someone in the same house as Draco Malfoy, the Gryffindor had actually been quite supportive. ''Of course it helped that Sorcha is a total swot as well' Ron thought wryly, all it had taken for Hermione to start singing Sorcha's praises was Ron's suggestion that the two of them pair up for their Herbology project, they had gotten the highest marks in the entire year.

Ron was grateful to Sorcha for a lot of things, not least of which was an amber haired beauty such as her agreeing to go out with a tongue-tied, red faced, red haired Gryffindor, at the risk of great ridicule from all her Slytherin friends. He was also grateful to her for not letting him muck up his friendship with Harry when he and Draco had 'come out'. Sorcha had helped him get over his prejudice against Slytherins in general by agreeing to date him; and when he had sat and raged to her for almost two hours (Ron was still apologising for that) about the stupidity of Harry Potter not only wanting to shag Draco Malfoy, but actually doing it, she had calmly sat and listened to him until he ran out of steam and then told him that if he didn't get out of her room and go and make up with Harry that minute, she would break up with him and never speak to him again. Ron had, of course, made up with Harry, and he was immensely grateful to Sorcha for making him do so; he was also immensely grateful to her for listening to his regular rants about the respective stupidity of Draco and Harry and their fucked up relationship.

But most of all he was grateful to Sorcha for accepting his proposal last night. Ron just couldn't keep the grin off his face when he thought about that. He had been planning it for weeks and had bought the ring and everything. Ok so it was a very small diamond, but they had agreed not to have the wedding for a few years, so he would have plenty of time to save for the wedding ring. He wasn't sure yet how he was going to tell his friends, or worse yet his family. Harry, Hermione and Ginny would of course be happy and supportive of him, as they sort of knew how serious it was, but everyone else was still under the misguided opinion that Sorcha was a fling, something he had to get out of his system before settling down with someone who was not a Slytherin and who had absolutely no links to the Dark Lord at all. Ron sighed; the only links Sorcha and Conall had with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was a distant cousin, once removed, who was a Death Eater, but for some reason that one black sheep in the family had dammed them all in the eyes of 'respectable folks'.

"Are you okay Ron, you look a bit annoyed." Ron looked over at Hermione who was looking at him questioningly.

"I'm fine, I was just thinking about my family and Sorcha." Hermione nodded sympathetically. "Do you think they'll ever accept her?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I really don't know Ron, all I can say is keep trying. You two really love each other and anyone who can't see that you two are supposed to be together is blind."

Ron flashed her a warm grin. "In that case, I think there's something I should tell you about me and Sorcha..."

Harry finally found Ron and Hermione in the library. As he walked in, he couldn't help but notice that both Draco and Conall were also in the library, so he was careful to ensure that Draco noticed him as he walked over to where his friends were sitting. Carefully choosing the seat with the best possible view of the blond, Harry artfully draped his muscular frame over the chair. He sat like that, watching Draco converse with his boytoy, for a whole five minutes before he realised that his friends were being very quiet.

Looking over at them, Harry saw that Hermione was staring, open-mouthed, at a very red faced Ron who himself had a very large grin on his face. "Ok, what's going on? What have I missed?" asked Harry, puzzled. Looking again at the massive grin, which was threatening to take over the whole of Ron's face, he asked suspiciously. "Ron, what have you done?"

Ron finally seemed to notice him; he ducked his head and blushed an even deeper shade of red. "Nothing," he said, becoming even more embarrassed at the blushing that he couldn't control.

"Nothing!" exclaimed Hermione, who quickly remembered where she was and dropped her voice to an indignant stage whisper. "I don't think proposing marriage to your long standing girlfriend is nothing!" She got a playful look in her eyes. "Or would you like me to tell Sorcha that her fiancé thinks that agreeing to marry him is 'nothing'?"

What his friends were saying finally penetrated Harry's brain. "Wait a minute!" He turned to Ron. "You mean to say that you and Sorcha have actually decided to get married?" Ron nodded. "You mean like with the white dress and the cake and the rings and everything?" Ron nodded again, his grin becoming impossibly wide. "Ron, that's brilliant! When did you ask her? Have you told anyone else yet? When's the wedding?"

Ron lifted his head and tried to bring his blushing under control. "I asked her last night and gave her the ring. We've decided not to tell too many people yet, just you two, Sorcha's friends, and of course Conall, 'cause we want to wait a bit and try and break it to people gently. And the wedding's not going to be for a couple of years yet, we're only seventeen after all!"

Just then a thought came to Hermione. Jumping up she asked Ron, "Is Sorcha in the Prefect's Study just now?" Ron just nodded, confused. "I'll be back in a bit then," she said, and rushed off.

Harry grinned. "I think that must be the first time I've ever seen Hermione rushing away from the library."

"What is she up to though?" asked Ron.

Harry put his arm around Ron's shoulders and gave him a friendly hug. "This marriage thing has addled your brain. She's obviously gone to wish Sorcha congrats, and of course to get a look at the ring."

"Harry, I know you're gay and all, but could you not hug me. It's very un-British, and people might think you fancy me," Ron said, still grinning.

Harry smiled and planted a big, wet kiss on Ron's cheek. "For luck," he told him, but he couldn't help but notice that Draco was looking at him with a rather puzzled expression. Harry flashed him a smile and turned back to Ron. "Come on, we have to go celebrate. I just happen to have a few bottles of Butterbeer stashed in the dorm." He grabbed Ron's hand and pulled him out the library and up to the Gryffindor Dormitories where the drinks were waiting.

Harry and Ron were both rather drunk when Neville came up to the dormitory, as what Harry had called 'a few bottles of Butterbeer' turned out to be well over a dozen, and a bottle of Tequila Harry had swiped from the Dursleys during the summer holidays. As Neville walked into the room he actually tripped over Ron who was lying curled up on the floor howling with laughter - inevitably, as Neville fell flat on his face, the laughter only got louder.

Picking himself up, the accident prone Gryffindor looked around for Harry. Unable to see him immediately, and realising that he was unlikely to get an ounce of sense out of Ron, Neville followed the distinct sound of Harry's laughter. Surprisingly enough Harry was also on the floor, however, unlike Ron, he was not in the middle of the floor waiting to trip up unsuspecting students, but was in fact underneath Ron's bed.

Neville got down on his knees to look at the Boy Who Lived more carefully. "Harry, what exactly are you doing under Ron's bed?"

Harry giggled and held a finger to his lips. "Shhhhh, I'm hiding." This brought on a fresh bout of laughter from Ron and Harry covered his own mouth as he sniggered quietly. Their laughter was infectious and Neville found himself chuckling along with them.

"Ok Harry, who are you hiding from, 'cause I think Ron can see you!" remarked Neville, glancing over at where the youngest Weasley brother lay trying to control his mirth.

Harry beckoned Neville to come closer, until he was almost under the bed himself, before saying in an exaggerated whisper. "I'm hiding from Voldemort!" Harry and Ron both let out huge guffaws and rolled around the ground in their hilarity.

Neville decided that there was little point in trying to understand what they were laughing about and instead supplied the message he had been sent up to deliver. "Harry, Draco's at the Common Room door asking for you."

Harry instantly tried to look sober, but spoiled the effect as he slurred some of his words. "Draco's looking for me? But what does he want with lil' ol' me?" He tapped his fingers against his chin in an attempt to look thoughtful. "I guess I'll go down and see then Neville, old chum. Do you think you possibly help me out?"

Neville took the outstretched hand and dragged Harry out from under the bed. After a few failed attempts, Neville realised that Harry also needed help in getting into the upright position. "Perhaps I should ask him to come back later when you're feeling more yourself," he suggested hopefully, not looking forward to helping Harry down the stairs. Harry just shook his head and started to stagger towards the door. Neville caught him just as he tripped over Ron who was still lying on the floor, seemingly unable to get up. "What possessed you to get so drunk anyway? If McGonagall catches you, you'll be in a hell of a lot of trouble," muttered Neville as he helped Harry navigate the stairs.

They finally reached the bottom of the stairs in one piece, thanks to the heroic efforts of the now rather flushed Mr Longbottom. Harry straightened himself up and walked unsteadily to the portrait door where Draco was waiting impatiently for him. He was concentrating so much on staying upright that he missed all the curious looks from his fellow students who were anxious to know why the boy-who-lived had felt it necessary to get totally rat-arsed. Hermione didn't miss the looks; she would have to do some reassuring before the night was out, otherwise the rumours would start that Harry knew something about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and had been driven to drink; she had seen it before. She also made a mental note to check on both Harry and Ron before she went to bed and make sure they were okay; she didn't think Sorcha would be pleased if her fiancé ended up in the hospital wing with alcohol poisoning.

Harry reached the door without mishap and pushed the portrait open to step outside, however he misjudged the step, tripped, knocked over Draco and ended up sprawled on top of him. Harry looked into Draco's rather surprised face and burst out laughing. "Does this position remind you of something?" he slurred.

The surprise was quickly replaced with disgust, and Draco pushed Harry off him. He sat up and looked down at the Saviour of the Wizarding World lying on the floor making no attempt to get up. "You're drunk."

Harry chortled and drunkenly pointed at Draco. "Yes I am. I'm very, very, very drunk."

"I suppose there's no point in talking to you now, you never remember anything that happens when you're drunk," Draco stated matter-of-factly. He stood up and dusted himself off. "I'll come back when you've sobered up a bit."

"No, don't go," slurred Harry propping himself up on his elbows. "I promise I'll remember. Just tell me now. Pleeeease."

Draco sighed. "Fine, just don't expect me to repeat it tomorrow when you realise you have indeed forgotten."

Harry drew a cross over his heart and nearly lost his balance. "Cross my heart," he said.

"I did as you asked me to. I asked Blaise Zabini if he still fancied you, and for some unknown reason he said 'yes'. So I hope that answers your question." Harry nodded solemnly and Draco turned to go.

A quiet voice stopped him. "Draco?" He turned to see Harry with arms outstretched towards him. "Could you help me up?"