Not Just an Empty Emotion

Chapter 27- Three's a Crowd

Finally Malfoy had agreed to meet him. Harry didn't know what was up with him, but he'd obviously been trying to avoid Harry for over a week. Successfully. Harry desperately missed his boyfriend, and, though he was more than a bit irritated he decided not to mention it- Malfoy had obviously come round or he wouldn't have agreed to meet him.

He tapped the door of Classroom 11 with his wand and stepped inside.

"Malfoy?" he called, tentatively.

"Hi," a small voice replied from between the thick branches of the trees, closely followed by a gorgeous boy. Harry smiled.

"How are you?" he asked. "You look- are you OK? You look a bit pale."

"I've been ill," Malfoy lied smoothly, ignoring the guilty feeling squirming in his stomach.

"Oh. Is that why you've not-"

"Yeah," Malfoy interrupted. "Yeah, that's right. How are you anyway?" He turned the conversation around, but Harry seemed not to have noticed how keen Malfoy was to change it.

"I'm good. Hermione is starting with all that spew crap again, but I think she's just trying to make me and Ron talk again....huh....fat chance."

"How about...the other thing. How're you feeling about everything? Are you sure you're OK?"

"No. I'm not sure. But I can't do anything about it now. And I know it'd be easier if Ron was talking to me but.... hey, I've got you. I don't need him now."

Malfoy smiled encouragingly as he hugged Harry, but the Gryffindor didn't see the pained expression on Malfoy's face as he buried his head into the warm shoulder, and tried not to think of what was making his life hell.

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He'd had no choice but to agree to see Potter. He still wasn't sure he could face it, but it wasn't fair on Potter to ignore him like that. Draco would just have to try and sort out the problem with Foster by himself before he involved anyone else in the mess.

Every night Foster had visited Draco. And every night had run the same as the first. And every night when Foster finally left, kissing Draco a sickly goodnight, Draco had had to run to the bathroom. But Draco was determined not to let Foster get what he wanted from him. If it meant he would have to endure this for weeks on end he was totally refusing to let go of the secret he held so closely- for doing that would feel like giving Potter himself up.

And anyway, Draco thought miserbly, maybe there won't be any information to give up soon....not if I keep ignoring Potter, anyway.

It hurt so much to see Potter, though, when Draco couldn't be what Potter wanted him to be at the moment...

Potter let go of him and stood back to look at Draco properly.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked, face full of concern.

No, leave me alone, leave me alone! Draco pleaded internally. "Yeah. Yeah, of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just...oh never mind."

He forced a painful smile onto his face. "How's er....Quidditch practice going? Weasley fallen on his broom again yet?" he joked.

"No quite....I'm tempted to knock him off it, though..."

Draco forced a laugh.

"You know," said Potter, "your laugh is so sexy...."

"Yeah?"

"Mmm....it makes me want to taste it..."

"Taste what?" Draco asked curiously.

"Your laugh."

"My laugh?"

"That's right."

"How?"

"Like this..." Potter leaned forward and placed his lips on Draco's, savouring the taste. Draco was taken aback. It was bittersweet: he so desperately wanted to kiss Potter, and yet he hated it because it felt so wrong right now...as though he were deceiving Potter. He responded as best he could, trying to seem natural, all the time hating himself.

"Malfoy what's wrong?" Potter suddenly stopped kissing to ask him. "Something's wrong, I know it is."

"Nothing's wrong," he tried to keep his voice even.

"Yes there is! You can't lie to me! I know damn well that something isn't right!"

"Everything's fine!" Draco fought to keep his voice even, but knew it was no good. "Why are you asking me all this? Why now?"

"I don't know...I can feel it...the way you're acting...the way you're speaking...your kiss..."

"What?"

"Something's not right."

"What do you mean?"

"It's not you kissing me....not like it was before. And..." Potter knew it would sound stupid, but said it anyway, the last week of being ignored was bubbling in his mind, "I don't know...it...it tastes different."

Draco didn't move or say a word. He knew why it was different. He even knew why it tasted different. Foster had left his mark on him, he wasn't just affecting Draco's mind any more. And last night, even more than any other, Foster's kisses had bitten into Draco's lips...the rough way he used Draco over and over...after, it had bled for what felt like hours, he could still taste it in his mouth.

"Don't be stupid."

"I'm not fucking well being stupid! I know there's something up, so stop denying it! Why have you been avoiding me? Why don't you want to see me? Have...have you gone off me?"

"No! Don't be daft, I-"

"JUST TELL ME!"

"THERE'S NOTHING WRONG!"

"I know there is," Potter said quietly. "Don't lie to me, Malfoy because I know damn well that there is...we're not ememies any more, remember?"

"I know that! I just...I can't...of leave it alone, will you?"

"No!"

"STOP IT, POTTER! Just stop it! Stop having a go! Why is everyone determined to make me miserable? Just leave me alone!" Draco yelled. He turned on his heel and stormed from the room, not quite sure what he was feeling or why he was refusing to tell Potter what was going on.

It looked like Foster had been right- Draco was too proud to tell anyone what was happening.

Foster, though Draco was trying to prevent it with all his strength, was winning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The common room was warm and noisy, as the fire crackled merrily and the first years went into hysterics as Neville was caught out, yet again, by a Canary Cream offered by Dean. The last of spring was lingering on, with constant rain and dark cloud in the sky.

It was hard to believe that not so long ago Harry had been happier than he could have believed possible, yet now Hermione and Ginny found him sitting in a miserable stupor as far from everyone else as he could manage. He did not say a word as they sat down next to him, but simply turned his head away to the wall. He didn't want to face their questions, their stares, to have Ginny say "I told you so." He didn't want any of it.

"Why aren't you with the others."

He said nothing.

"Harry?"

"Because Ron's there, alright?" he lied.

"We're not stupid, Harry. You've taken this for months; he wouldn't suddenly start getting to you now, after all that. Tell us."

"Leave me alone. Stop trying to tell me you know everything about it because you don't. Maybe I don't want to tell you, did you think of that Hermione?"

"I'm trying to help you, and be a friend, Harry, but if you'd rather I-"

"Don't you dare leave, Hermione, he's in the wrong, not you. Harry, tell us what's up. You can't keep it from us forever. It's best to get it over with now so budge up because the arm of this chair is digging into my arse," Ginny said matter-of-factly. Harry was totally thrown by this so couldn't think of anything to do but to move. When he didn't say anything, Ginny poked him and said, "So?"

"Erm...it's....him," he said, resignedly.

"Voldemort?" Hermione asked at once.

Ginny winced.

"No," Harry said sadly, almost wishing it was about Voldemort. "Not him. The other one."

"Oh," Hermione said softly, her confused expression clearing. "What's happened?"

Harry looked at her and blinked sadly. "We've had an argument."

"What about?"

"Erm...well...about..." What was the reason? "Erm...he was ignoring me...avoiding me..."

That's not a reason to break up with someone, he told himself sternly, you've blown this out of proportion, but it's too late now and it's your own fault!

"It's too late..." he muttered, not actually aware of the two girls staring sympathetically at him. "It's my fault...shit I'm such an arse!"

"Don't, Harry, that'll only make it worse. It can't be entirely your fault. You don't break up with someone for no reason."

"But it is. It is my fault. And...I don't think there really is a reason...not a proper one...I thought there was though...Why did I have to do it? WHY!?"

"Something must have made you do it."
Harry just grunted incoherently.

"He's probably feeling exactly the same," Hermione said soothingly.

"Doubt it," Harry said.
"How do you know?" she said fairly.

"Just do. Because it's NOT his fault...it's mine"

"Harry," Ginny said quietly, "I think you're forgetting that he's changed...he will be feeling the same way, and you damn well know it. He's not the same M- er...the same as he was before. You've had a go at me about this often enough, not it's my turn: He's changed"
Harry looked up. "You really think so?"

"Of course I do. And so do you. What I want to know is what you're going to do about it."

Harry stared at the table in front of him to ponder this. It was he, Harry, who had caused this, he was the one who had blown it up, and he was the one who had made stupid paranoid theories up in his head....Harry had broken this, so only Harry could fix it. If Malfoy would let him, that is.

"What can I do? I was so horrible to him."

"Well explain why you did it to him. Tell him that you're sorry. You are sorry aren't you?" Hermione shot at him.

"Of course I am!" said Harry, highly offended. "But I don't see why he's got any reason to forgive me!"

Ginny and Hermione both tutted in an impatient sort of way.

"What?"

"Boys have got no subtlety or sensitivity. You'd think that they'd realise in a situation like this, but no, they're as crap as ever." Ginny said through gritted teeth, Hermione nodding her grim approval next to her.

"What!" He repeated, completely nonplussed, and desperate to unravel the mysterioud girl talk.

"It's very simple, Harry," Ginny said.

"What is?"
Hermione made a noise of desperate frustration. "The reason he'd want to forgive you, idiot!"

"Oh. Right." He was silent for a bit while he thought. "Er...what is it?"

"LOVE," the girls said together, almost hysterically incredulous.

"It's perfectly simple," sighed Ginny. "He loves you. He understands you. He knows the way you are and what you're facing... if he's a good as you make out then of course he will forgive you, because he loves you."

"Shhhh!" he hissed. "Keep it down or everyone will guess I'm...you know."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I know but....still." He fell silent.

Ginny watched him for a minute, and then said in a heavily exasperated voice, "Well go on then!"

"What now?" He demanded.

"Go and find him. You know what to do so go! Now!" Hermione almost yelled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ahh, just the man. I wanted a little word if you don't mind, Malfoy?" Foster said silkily, eyeing the group of Hufflepuff third years dangerously as they passed. Draco said nothing but ignored Foster and walked past him as though he were a suit of armour. "Malfoy," Foster called again, a little louder, "Malfoy it's quite urgent, could I have a word? It won't take long...then you can get straight to....bed."

With everything he was having to deal with, and his recent meeting with Potter, Draco felt something inside him snap. He turned to face Foster from down the corridor, hatred pumping through his body.

"Fuck off, Foster! What are you trying to achieve from this?" he yelled, balling his hands to try and contain his anger. The Hufflepuffs heard the yells, and looked back with frightened expressions on their faces, then, as though they did not want to be caught spying on older Slytherins, they turned and scurried off nervously.

Draco and Foster stood staring at each other silently, Draco slightly pink with anger and hatred, and Foster with a sickening look of longing on his face, like a cat bearing down on a mouse.

Foster laughed softly and began to walk towards Draco. Draco wanted to run, but he was still three floors above the common room, and anyway, he was not a coward.

"Take one more step, Foster-" he warned quietly his hand finding his wand, his mouth ready to form the curse.

"You wouldn't." Foster stopped dead, his voice was full of confidence.

"Watch me."

"I'd love to. But sadly I can't. I can't let you do that. You see, then I wouldn't be getting my way. And I like to get my own way Malfoy, surely you realise that by now?"

"I've realised," Draco's voice was trembling slightly with anger and repressed fear. "But I'm not going to give you your own way."

They stared at each other for a few seconds longer, then, slowly, Foster raised his foot and took a step forwards.

"Slavaka-!" Draco yelled.

But Foster had already spat, "Expelliarmus!"

The red light from Foster's wand erupted first, it caused Draco's electric-blue beam to go off course and crash into the wall with a sickening crunch. The place it had hit immediately crumbled, and an intricate network of cracks spread directly form the point it had hit.

Draco slumped against the wall in pain where he had been thrown backwards, his wand ten feet away, silence echoing round the corridor threateningly.

"Impedimenta!" Foster said, and Draco found himself unable to move.

"Not a wise move, Malfoy!" he said furiously.

"You bastard!" choked Draco, "You utter-"

"Shut up! Now, do you mind if we have that little chat now? Good."

He dragged Draco to his feet and into an empty room to the right. Draco tried desperately to struggle but the jinx made it impossible.

"Well done," Foster whispered. He was panting slightly from the effort of dragging Draco. The jinx was beginning to wear off but Foster had pinned Draco so tightly to the wall that Draco could hardly struggle any more than before.

Foster moved his head closer to Draco's, so Draco could see Foster and nothing else, and feel his breath on his face.

"I'll never tell you, you know," Draco said. "You're wasting your time."

"That may well be, but I can't stop now can I? I've gone this far...and besides it wasn't just the answer I wanted out of this. I've wanted this for five and a half years, so I don't think I'll stop now. I'm enjoying it far too much..."

He moved his face even closer...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry stepped through a moth-eaten tapestry thinking hard. Malfoy was not in the library, or the toilets, and Harry very much doubted he would be in the common room. Where else could he be? He walked quickly, pondering the possible hiding places Malfoy could have found, rehearsing what he would say under his breath.

"Malfoy, I didn't mean to say those things...no, too formal, Malfoy I'm so sorry...no I don't want to sound like I'm begging...but I might have to beg...I'm really sorry Malfoy I just get paranoid about these-oh for God's sake how hard can one apology be!?"

He climbed the stairs to the second floor and walked along the corridors, peering into the classrooms hoping to find Malfoy in each one, but without luck.He tripped over something on the floor. Stumbling upwards he cursed and turned to see what had been in his way. It took him a few seconds to find it, because he had managed to kick it away as he tripped and it was now lying at the top of the stairs from which he had just come. He walked to it, and bent to pick it up. It was a wand, of similar length to his own. He examined it. He was sure it looked familiar. It was probably Neville's...he was becoming more and more distant these days, and had disappeared from school the week before. He had returned the same night, looking utterly depressed and would not answer when people asked where he had been. But as he had watched the pained expressions on Neville's face, Harry had developed a suspicion that Nevilled had started paying visits to St. Mungo's.

He continued his way down the corridor, looking into every room, feeling growing panic as he found each one dark and deserted. A very faint flickering light was coming from one of the rooms ahead, it looked as though a single, dimmed torch had been lit. He heard voices coming from the same classroom. It sounded like there were two people having an intimate discussion in there, it sounded like Roger Davies and one of his many girlfriends...he was renowned for meeting them in secret after their curfew time...he didn't want to disturb them...he would just ignore the room and go on to the next one...

He walked past it, determined to resist...but curiosity overcame him and he glanced in. It wasn't Roger Davies at all. He could only see one person clearly, and it took him a few seconds to realised it was Dominic Foster, an extremely good-looking Slytheirn seventh year. Harry smiled and repressed a laugh, Foster was renowned for being anti-social, but it seemed he had found a girl willing to put up with his icy front. But who was she? Foster leant forwards and kissed whoever it was. He moved his head slightly to one side as he did so, deepening the kiss.

It hit him like a train; he staggered backwards and retched. He had recognised the streaked blond hair, perfect pale skin, and delicate features of Draco Malfoy.