'Ha!' Draco sat back, his eyes sparking. '?Where to start? 'Get me a present.? 'Take me to Hogsmeade.? 'Buy me that bracelet.? 'Make love to me right here on the floor.? 'No, not like that, like this.? 'Stop wasting time and get your trousers off?.?'
'Which do you want me to do first?' asked Harry, poking his fourth -
fifth? — drink with the tip of the red umbrella.
Draco snorted. 'No, thats what shes like. Shes got the worst personality in the whole House, and as you can imagine thats up against some pretty stiff competition.'
Harry looked at him curiously. 'Then why are you dating her?'
Draco knocked back his drink so fast that Harry was worried for a moment that he was going to topple off his barstool. He slammed the empty glass down on the counter. 'What are you talking about, Potter?
She's fantastic.'
'Er,' Harry said, bewildered. 'All right. It's just…whatever happened with you and Ginny? I thought you were going to…you know. Date. Maybe.'
'We were what? Okay, Maudlin Man, this encounter session wasn?t supposed to be about me. It was supposed to be about you.'
Harry drew himself upright with a fair bit of difficulty. He took a moment to focus his eyes on Draco. Then his green gaze sharpened, and hardened, and he no longer looked drunk at all. 'Fine,' he said. 'Lets talk about me.'
Draco idly ran a finger around the cold rim of his glass. 'What did you and Hermione fight about?' he asked, making his voice neutral.
'Why don?t you tell me?' said Harry.
Draco blinked. 'Eh?'
'She talks to you,' said Harry, in a cool voice. 'I know she does.'
Draco met Harrys gaze with his own. 'Do you care?'
'If it helps her, I guess I don?t.'
Draco abandoned the cagey approach. 'She says you?ve been ignoring her,' he said. 'She says you barely speak to her any more.'
A slow flush spread upward from Harrys collarbone, across his face.
'Thats not true,' he said.
Draco didn?t say anything.
'Its not bloody true,' Harry said again, the tops of his cheekbones dark red with rage.
'Right,' said Draco. 'Tell me, what classes is she taking?'
Harry blinked and opened his mouth. 'What?'
'What classes is Hermione taking this year?'
Harrys mouth remained open. 'Potions,' he said slowly. 'Advanced DaDA with Lupin….'
'And the classes she doesn?t have with you?'
Harry looked down at the bartop. 'Arithmancy,' he said. His voice was unsure. 'Medical Magic. Wards and Protection…'
'She dropped that,' said Draco. His voice was hard. 'In October. Shes taking Runic Studies instead.'
Harry looked away from him. His jaw muscles were set. 'Whats your point?'
'You have been ignoring her. Why?'
'I have not-'
'Oh, give it up, Harry,' yelled Draco in exasperation. 'Is there somebody else?'
Harry banged his fist down so hard on the bar that the glasses rattled.
Draco was conscious of the fat wizard on his right giving them a peculiar look. He was also conscious that his last question to Harry might easily be misunderstood if one hadn?t carefully listened to the conversation previously. Oh well.
'There is nobody else!' Harry shouted. 'There never will be anybody else, not for me, not ever!'
The fat wizard nudged Draco in the ribs with his wand. 'I think he really means it,' he hissed in Dracos ear. 'Come on, give him another chance.'
'Oh, shut up,' said Draco, not turning around. He was looking at Harry.
The dark red color had faded from Harrys skin and now he was very white.
' Sorry,' he said. 'Its not your fault.'
'Damn right it isn?t,' said Draco. 'And don?t think I like being go-between for you and Hermione either, because I don?t.'
'So why…?'
'I don?t like seeing her unhappy,' said Draco, with finality.
At that, Harry was silent. He stared off at the row of bottles lined up against the wall behind the bar. The magical liquors inside swirled with different colors: shades of lavender, turquoise and lemony gold. 'Maybe I?m being selfish,' he said finally. 'But its because I love her and I don?t want to lose her even if I don?t…even if I can ?t…' he paused, and Draco waited, knowing this was no time to interrupt. 'Even if I can?t give her anything right now,' Harry finished.
'You?ll drive her away,' said Draco.
Harry was looking down into his empty glass now. The torchlight fringed his black hair with gold and lit a bright spark of fire at his throat. The Epicyclical Charm. 'Might be the best thing for her,' he said.
'Bollocks,' said Draco firmly. 'She loves you.'
'Love,' said Harry flatly. His voice held no intonation. 'Maybe.'
'Don?t be a daft bugger. Of course she does.'
The bartender set another drink down in front of Harry, who looked at it out of bleary green eyes. Draco tried to recall the number of glasses of alcohol Harry had now consumed. He had a feeling it was out of the single digits. 'Voldemorts coming for me,' Harry said. 'You know that.'
Draco leaned back. 'I don?t know any such thing,' he said, although in the back of his head was the memory of a burning pain lancing through his palm, and a mans voice saying, The boy is unreliable, Master.
'Of course he is,' said Harry. 'He?ll try for me again. Why would he stop now? Slytherins out of the way, and the younger I am and the less experienced the better his chances.'
'Potter…' Draco let his voice trail away. 'You don?t know.'
'I know.' Harrys voice was certain.
'Then….are you afraid?'
'No. I?m glad.'
Draco blinked. 'Come again?'
'I?m glad,' said Harry, and his voice held something, something savage and primal. His hand was tight around the stem of his glass. 'I?m glad. I think about it all the time, Malfoy, about confronting him, my chance for vengeance this time, my chance to free my parents… I dream about killing him. I wake up with bruises on my hands and I know I?ve been hitting the wall with my fists while I sleep. I?ve been angry before but I?ve never known hatred like this, this fierce and constant, it never leaves me, and how can I be around Hermione when I feel like that? If she knew how I really was, how full of poison and hate…she thinks I?m above those things, better than that, and I wish I was, but — ' He shook his head as if clearing it of cobwebs, and his black hair flew around his face. Hermione had been right. It wanted cutting. 'But I?m not.'
Draco was staring at him. 'I didn?t know…'
Harrys breathing was ragged. 'I keep thinking about my parents down there… in that place…'
Draco spoke through a tightened throat: 'Did you use the Pensieve I gave you?'
'No.' Harry shook his head. 'I can?t….' The alcohol had roughened the usually smooth edges of his voice, and given it a wild desperation. 'I can?t bear it, I can?t…' and he leaned forward, and buried his face in his hands.
Draco stayed frozen, his heart beating painfully against his ribs. This was his fault, his fault, he was the one
