Disclaimer: I own nothing. Besides Maddix and Jaz, all others are just characters I'm borrowing.
Warnings: Slash. Angst. Fun stuff... heh.
Author's note: Oh my bloody hell. Now look at this- an update, finally! I can't believe that I've gotten 72 reviews for teeny tiny dinky chapters; I thank you all from the deepest reaches of my heart! Thanks for reading!
My computer is finally back up, so I should be updating fairly often as soon as the semester is over (in about a week), so look for updates soon!
I need a beta. Desperately. If you are willing to edit and tweak my plot bunnies and be meh muse, please either message me or send me an e-mail. It's on my userpage.
"Oh." Harry blinked, twice, slowly, as his mouth tried to form words out of his stupor.
"Everyone in the magical world knows who Harry Potter is," Maddix leered, his grin beastly and primal, "so why are you here?"
"Well, I," Harry started, his voice cracking and the werewolf frowned, sniffing.
"Are you oka-" tears formed at Harry's eyes, the saline salty and tangy on the werewolf's senses.
"Shh, don't cry." Maddix tried to console Harry by putting a hand gently on the smaller's back, but the flood works only worsened and Harry whimpered as his eyes grew swollen and red. "Okay, come here," Maddix whispered as Harry rubbed at his eyes with his fists, "let's get you out of here." The muscular werewolf hefted the smaller man into his arms, casting withering glares at patrons that dared looked towards them.
Harry rested his head in the crook of Maddix's neck and the warm tears and the cool breath on the man's flesh sent shivers down his spine.
He cradled the man against his chest as he made his way towards the back stairs to the loft above and caught Jaz's inquiring gaze. Above Harry's messy mop of hair, he gestured to the ceiling. Is he okay? She mouthed and Maddix nodded as he held Harry closer. He started up the stairs.
"Mswar," he heard his bundle murmur against his throat .
"I'm sorry," Harry bemoaned as she shifted his face, nuzzling the cotton fabric of the werewolf's sweater. "I didn't mean to cry."
"Everyone has feelings, even the great Harry Potter," he murmured in response, chuckling lightly as he opened a door to a rather spartan bedroom. He gently deposited the boy on the bed as Maddix took a seat on one of the corners.
"I know we've just met, but if there's anything you want to get off of your chest..." he began, "you could tell me. I'd listen" he finished lamely, shrugging his shoulders sheepishly and peering over tat the other man.
"He cheated on me," the form on the bed deadpanned, fisting the simple blue comforter in his hand. "I went to get some groceries after I got off of work and I came home..." Harry whimpered as he remembered and a few tears slipped down his face before he blinked harshly. "We got to this club, Asylum, about once a week. I told him to go on without me, 'cause I stayed late at work. I finished a little sooner than I thought and wasn't much in the mood to go clubbing, so I decided to surprise him when he got home with a nice meal. He liked my cooking; he told me so once."
The werewolf's eyes stared, unwavering at the broken form of the Boy-Who-Lived. He said nothing, but his hand unconsciously drifted towards the smaller's back.
"But when I got home, he was with someone else. On our bed," the tears freely fell uninhibited as Harry spoke, his voice cracking, "I left. He tried to stop me, tried to say sorry I think, but I should have known that I wasn't enough for him. But I wanted to be." Silence ensued and Maddix's breath caught in his throat. "I wanted to be." he whispered again, melancholy and fractured. "I hate him, but I still love him. I want to forgive him. He looked so scared," Harry continued, "I've never seen that look on his face before. Not even when I battled Voldemort." the Boy-Who-Lived sighed, tracing the ornamental stitchery in the bedspread.
"Maybe it was an accident," Maddix found himself speaking before he realized what he was doing, "maybe he was drunk or maybe he got slipped a potion or something. People are crazy these days. Well, and it's you. Maybe it's an ex-death eater out for revenge."
"Maybe," Harry conceded, rubbing his cheek on the blue cotton. "But I feel that even if that did happen, I'm still hurt. If it was out of his power, it still hurts..."
Maddix let a pregnant pause fill the room. "It's going to hurt, Harry. Things in life sometimes hurt, but you've got to get over it. You won't be able to go on if you don't." He scratched absentmindedly at his ear. "Maybe he should talk to him."
Harry sighed, pulling himself to a sitting position on the bed. "But I don't know what to say. I want to see him, but..." he shook his head. "I just, I don't know."
"I think you should talk to him. Send him an owl. Maybe you guys can work this out." Maddix watched as Harry sniffed twice and blinked away bleary tears. A wavering hopeful smile formed on his slightly pouted pastel lips.
"Ron, is that you?" a voice called from another room as Ronald Weasley apparated into the living room of their home. Steps were heard as Ron and Draco steadied themselves and Draco peered curiously about. Sentimental knickknacks cluttered nearly every surface and there were three ebony bookshelves (gifts from Harry) that nearly seemed to buckle under the pressure of the mountains of books.
"Yeah," Ron said and steps were heard coming closer in response.
"Good, I-" Hermione absently wiped flour and dough on the apron she was wearing and froze and she looked up and saw Draco. "Malfoy," she acknowledged, stiffly nodding. "We got a letter from Harry," she stopped, as if waiting to hear an excuse from the ex-Slytherin. Draco shifted uncomfortably.
"We can explain that, 'Mione," Ron broke in, his neck and ears flaming red, "I just; maybe he should see the letter first." Hermione's eyes darted to her husband's and she nodded once.
"It's in here." She led them to the study, waddling slightly as her pregnant belly got in the way.
She bent over a bureau, pulling open a drawer and fished out a piece of parchment. "Here, Draco. Read it."
The blond took the paper from the woman, murmuring thank you as he looked down on the letter. There were ink spots Draco could only assume were from Harry's tears and with shaking hands, he began to read.
To Everyone, it read,
I'm sorry I've left, but trust me, there was no other choice. None of you have done anything, so don't worry. Especially you, Ron, Hermione. Just know this- I'm safe and I'll get to you again when I'm settled. Don't worry.
"There's more, Draco," Ron said after Draco had blankly looked at the spouses. "Here. Specialis ostendo sum." Magically, the the words of the letter faded and new ones began appearing.
I am leaving, it stated now
I'm sorry. I don't want to stay any more. He cheated. He cheated! Fucked him right in front of me! God, how could this ever happen? I thought he loved me. It was probably Gryffindor stupidity. Merlin knows he was always harassing me about being a Gryffindor.
I don't know where I'll be. Probably somewhere in London. Somewhere you can't find me. Somewhere he won't look.
No doubt Hermione's figured this out already, or you wouldn't be reading it. She always was smarter than me.
Just leave me alone, okay? Unless someone's dying. I'll come back, I promise. Eventually.
Harry's scrawled signature finished the letter.
Draco's eyes teared up and he breathed deeply.
"He was slipped a love potion, Hermione," Ron spoke at last, breaking the deafining silence. "He... had no choice. Lucius, I don't know how, organized it from inside Azkaban. Must have been during one of his lucid moments with someone else. Maybe someone who wanted Harry for themselves, I think. I don't believe Lucius would arrange something like that this with someone who would want Draco; there's too many liabilities. He probably wouldn't organized this with someone who was an ex-death eater... he still defaulted when the Last Battle came around." Ron finished his theory and sheepishly grinned as Malfoy and Hermione stared at him with something akin to awe. "Well, it's true," he squeaked, blushing.
"I never knew you were hiding such a brain beneath your Gryffindor stupidity."
Hermione leveled a glare in Draco's direction.
"That's a good idea, Ron," she praised, patting his head. "I think it's got some actual merit. But how can we get a hold of Harry? He doesn't want to be found."
"Unless someone's dying," Ron drawled, sounding decidedly Slytherin. Hermione's eyes flashed and she smirked as she looked Draco throughly up and down.
"Yes," she said, "not unless someone's dying..."