Title: Life is One Big Misunderstanding
Author: Kuteki (cute_eki@yahoo.co.uk)
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13

Life is one big misunderstanding.

It was late one night that Harry finally broke.

It began as an ordinary night; he was alone in their apartment in Muggle London, not unlike the majority of the nights in the past couple of months. He was eating popcorn in front of their small television, pretending to watch some late night documentary, and systematically checking his watch and worrying about Draco's whereabouts. He cursed himself for caring when it was obvious that Draco didn't. It was obvious that Draco had stopped caring a long time ago.

And yet it was impossible to stop his heart from fluttering in his chest, when the front door banged open and Draco cheerfully announced that he'd had the best night in forever. Harry sighed, hiding all the suddenly rising feeling, from the ever-present unidentifiable pang, to the rush of anger.

He finally looked at Draco. The tight top and faded jeans hugged his body so well, but it was the eyeliner and glitter that finished the look off. He truly was stunning, and Harry hated him. Hated the perfectly styled blond hair, the superior smirk, the careless smile. "How nice for you." He finally replied. The dryness was palpable, but Draco was either too pissed to notice, or chose to ignore it.

"Potter, why do you always have to be so uptight? Look at yourself!" Despite getting only a dark look in return, Draco continued. "Seriously Harry, you should have been there."

And that is when Harry snapped.

He wasn't sure what it was about this that broke the final straw. But something shattered in him, something fragile and precious and Harry had to take a deep breath and attempt to swallow the anger rising within him. He resisted checking for blood, knowing that despite its intensity, the pain was no more physical than he and Draco had been for the last two months.

"You didn't invite me." He quietly said, a bitter smile playing across his lips.

Draco giggled "What's up with you tonight? You know you don't like crowded spaces and loud music."

Harry could have said a lot of things here. He could have shouted or screamed, accused or explained, but he simply nodded.

"You are right."

And when, very soon after Draco fell asleep, he packed a small bag and left, his eyes were dry and tired. Harry had no need to justify his leaving, Draco was impossible, this was too much and he had to get away from it all. Shutting the door behind him, he felt nothing but emptiness and with surprisingly little effort was able to apparate in front of Hermione's tiny cottage.

It was the middle of the night, but Harry knew that Hermione would understand. She always did. He really should appreciate her more.

***

"Harry!" She hugged him tightly and ushered him in without asking him anything. He hugged her back, knowing how difficult it must be for her. He didn't visit her all that often. Finally letting go, Hermione peered up at him, the question evident in her eyes. Harry gave her a small smile, noting the sleepiness in her eyes and the fragility of her shoulders, bones outlined through the flimsy material of her night robe.

"Will you tell me what is going on, or do you not want to talk about it?" She finally said.

"I left Draco."

"Oh." Hermione replied.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Harry laughed. "Where do I start? I hope you have a lot of spare time."

Hermione's concerned look became even more prominent, as she led him to the sofa. "Sit and speak, don't worry about my time."

Harry though back to the first few months after they'd moved in together and how the main thing they fought about was the heating. Harry was always cold, he'd felt for months after the war that he'd never be warm again. Draco on the other hand hated the heat and constantly turned it down, Harry should have know then that the cold hearted bastard could not have really changed.

"We are too different." He finally said.

Hermione nodded, urging him to speak. What more could he say. Harry remembered Draco's tantrums and whining, the way he acted as if the whole world belonged to him, that time he forgot their anniversary and went out instead. Harry closed his eyes, as the image of Draco dressed up and glowing, waving him goodbye for the first time would not leave him. He didn't remember exactly, but it had something to do with his refusal to go out, to submit to Draco's wishes yet again. Then the image was gone and Draco's words "You don't like clubbing." Echoed in his mind.

"We like different things." He whispered.

"Harry, if you don't want to talk, I'd understand" Hermione said.

"No, no, I do. I am trying." He paused. "Draco is a selfish bastard and he doesn't love me. Better?"

"Harry." She hugged him again. "He does, you know he does. It's just, it's been difficult for him, getting used to the muggle life, leaving magic behind."

Harry gave her a look, she really didn't understand, did she. He supposed explaining would be nice, or at least telling her exactly how quickly Draco embraced the muggle life. For explaining would be difficult, he himself wasn't sure why. Harry attempted to laugh, but the bitterness surprised even him.

"Oh he embraced the muggle life all right. Half the nights he embraces a different muggle. There is nothing he seems to miss from the wizarding world. He never even mentions flying, he never mentions anything. We never talk about anything any more. He has his whores. I have my...what do I have? Nothing. I used to have patience. Love. But now I have nothing. And so I left."

Harry was thankful that she didn't start crying or try to reassure him by saying he's got her, which he already knew and it really wasn't the same. As for crying, well he hadn't cried since Ron's death and had no plans to do it again.

"Harry." She eventually began. "I think you two really need to talk."

Hermione was giving him an odd look and Harry didn't like it.

"What do you mean, need to talk? Were you not listening? We don't talk. He is a bastard that doesn't love me."

Hermione's look was of utmost sadness mixed with loving pity and Harry hated himself for hating her for it.

"Harry," she said. God, how annoying the constant repetition of his name was. "Harry, Draco loves you very much and I know that because he often tells me. He thinks you need space, because you've grown cold and full with hate and he doesn't know what to do."

Harry's initial retort froze on his lips. "What are you talking about?" he whispered hoarsely. Attempting to squash the hope swelling in his chest.

"I...I think I will call him now. He should be the one that talks to you." She stammered and almost ran to the phone before Harry could ask anything else.

The phone was in the other room, so Harry could only hear a muffled voice and soon after the sound of apparating. He told himself to sit still and not burst into the room. He didn't stop himself from eavesdropping, but all he could hear was the tone of Draco's voice and Hermione's hushed explanation. Both sounded upset and Harry had to bite the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from shouting. It was obvious that Draco and Hermione were far better acquainted than he'd known and dark jealousy coiled at the pit of his stomach. Nameless whores he could live with, but not Hermione. He tried to convince himself he was being irrational, but was unable to stop it. The voices were hushed, as if the speakers were very close indeed and the occasional eligible word was not enough for Harry to get even the gist of the conversation.

Finally the door opened and they entered the room together, Hermione's chin defiantly raised, her eyes red. Draco looked, well he looked terrible, his eyes tired, traces of, was that tears, drying on his cheeks, hair in a mess. He was nervously worrying the sleeves of his robe between his fingers but he looked straight at Harry, the depth of feeling in his eyes a trace of things forgotten and Harry had to look away. The silence stretched, Harry wondered if he should say something, but it was Hermione who spoke first.

"Harry, Draco has a few things he wants to say to you. Draco, you sit down and I will go and make everyone some tea." She left, throwing Harry a pleading look and mouthing "listen" to him.

"Draco." Harry said coolly. "Is there something you want to tell me..." Draco nodded, but before he could reply, Harry continued. "About you and Hermione?" The cold stab of betrayal was tearing his insides apart and so Harry was quite proud of his calm voice.

"I..." Draco began and stopped. "Me and Hermione? What are you on Potter?"

Harry was not fully convinced, but if the surprised shock in Draco's voice was fake, Draco actually had a shot at acting. He decided to let it go; at the least it would be interesting to hear Draco's latest excuse.

"Fine. I will listen." His gaze was heavy and expectant and Draco visibly faltered before swallowing and finding his voice.

"Harry, I love you. No, listen to me, you said you would. I haven't stopped loving you. And I could see you slipping away and I watched helpless as the cold got a hold of your heart until you stopped laughing, you stopped feeling. I didn't know how to react, I had no one to talk to. The people I used to confide in are all dead, Hermione was my only option. She listened and gave me advice, but didn't want to interfere. She didn't think she could do anything, could have an affect on you, and I didn't blame her, you never went to visit, never called her. She still thinks you blame her for Ron's death."

Harry, who had listened quietly so far, his only response the faster beating of his heart, couldn't stop the anguished denial to that. "I don't. I don't blame her. She can't believe that."

"Harry, she does, did until tonight when you came to her, but I really think that you should tell her that after we are done."

Harry nodded weakly, words failing him.

"She told me that you though I had forgotten about magic, never talked to you, cheated on you. And I know I made it seem that way. But I didn't know how else to respond. You flinched every time I mentioned Quidditch, you never showed any emotion, even when I fucked you, you didn't seem to care. I love you, Harry, but I am also human and so I threw myself into acting, into clubbing, into anyone willing to have me. But I was wrong to give up on you. I know that. When I woke up and you weren't there in the minutes before Hermione's call I thought I was going to die. I want things to change, I want to go back to the times when our biggest fight revolved around the blasted heating. Fuck, Harry say something."

Harry stared, shocked, he didn't know what to say. He did know that he also loved Draco and told him so in the hope that it would be the right thing to do. And when Draco moved to him, enclosing him in his arms and patting his back and whispering in his ear, Harry felt for the first time in years, tears spilling out of his eyes. Hot, real tears, as he shook in Draco's arms, blushing at his weakness and thankful that Draco's warm sweater was hiding his face when Hermione came in carrying hot mugs of tea.

When he finally looked up, she was smiling at them and Harry grinned back, then looked up and finding Draco's warm lips he pressed a soft kiss into them. It was chaste and gentle and a sharp pang in Harry's chest told him exactly how much he'd missed that. Happiness welled inside him, and he found it impossible to get rid of the grin stretching his lips.

Get yourself free