Title: The Final Straw

"You don't love me, Malfoy. Stop talking rubbish," Harry retorted as he let go of Malfoy's robes and began to walk away.

"Just like that?" Malfoy asked, calling out behind him.

"Just like what?" Harry asked. He felt a weird sort of heat rise inside his stomach. "We were just having fun—"

"You get jealous of everyone you 'just have fun' with?"

"I don't like to share," Harry said and walked back towards Malfoy. "I thought there was an understand—"

Malfoy sighed. "There was no understanding. You used me as a distraction at the wedding and now you're just afraid—"

"I'm not afraid."

"What's the worst that could happen?" Malfoy asked and Harry didn't respond. He didn't know what to say. Why did no one understand the fact that Harry just didn't want a relationship? He just didn't want to label whatever he had with Malfoy. "I just want to be," he said.

"And I just want to be with you," Malfoy answered.

"You are..."

"You don't even see it," Malfoy nearly screamed. "I just want to be on equal footing, Potter. I'm not saying I want us to spend all our time together, or get married, or live— I am just saying, I fucking love you, and I can't handle what you're doing to me."

Malfoy walked away from Harry, despite Harry calling after him.

Harry chased after Malfoy and pulled on his arm. He immediately slammed Malfoy against the wall. Malfoy hit his head against the wall and let out a painful scream.

"Shite, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry Mal—"

Malfoy pushed Harry off. "Stay the fuck away from me," he roared and walked away.

*-/*\-*

Harry left the party immediately and went to a Muggle pub. He wanted to get away from everyone.

Drowning himself in his fifth serving of Scotch, he turned to look at the man next to him.

"Hi," the man said, smiling at Harry.

"Hi," Harry replied. He looked at the bloke, dark brown hair, hazel eyes, fit. Another distraction. Harry contemplated where the night could have taken him if he continued talking to the man.

He paid his tab and left.

*-/*\-*

When Harry arrived home, he saw a box of his stuff waiting for him at the door. It was his things that he had left at Malfoy's flat. Harry took the box inside the house and began looking through it. He found his favourite scarf, his t-shirts, and even his toothbrush. Malfoy was really ending it. Whatever it was.

He tried to contact Malfoy via the Floo, he didn't answer. He tried to Apparate to Malfoy's flat—Malfoy had changed the wards.

It was over.

*-/*\-*

New Year's Eve arrived and Harry hadn't left his house since Christmas. Upon several requests by Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna, he finally agreed to attend Luna's New Year's Eve party. According to them, Malfoy was going to be at Parkinson and Zabini's and he wouldn't see him—it was the main reason Harry had agreed to attend Luna's party.

Harry barely spoke to anyone at the party; he'd just plumped himself at the bar and drank.

"Wow, Potter. I thought that time when you were at the Manor captured by Death Eaters was the worst you'd ever looked."

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He should have known that his friends would have told him anything to get him to come out.

"Malfoy," Harry said, and slowly tilted his head and opened his eyes. "I thought you were going to be at Parkinson's."

"I was, until they decided to come here tonight," Malfoy answered, taking a seat next to Harry.

"You look good," Harry mustered up.

"You look like hell."

I've missed you, Harry wanted to say but only chuckled in response. He shrugged and turned to grab his drink.

"I see I've been replaced," Malfoy said, pointing at the drink in Harry's hand.

"Why do you even care?"

"Funny, I ask myself the same question every day," Malfoy answered and raised his hand at the bartender who poured him a shot of Firewhisky.

"I don't want to start the New Year fighting with you," Harry said. He turned to look at Malfoy again. Giving him a once over, Harry realised how much he'd missed Malfoy. He'd missed everything about him. His stupid smirk, his perfect hair, the condescending look the git had in his eyes.

"At least we can agree on something," Malfoy answered smiling and gulped his drink. "Well, have a nice life Pot—"

"Wait," Harry said, grabbing Malfoy's arm again.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter. Blaise almost came over last week to beat the living crap out of you for what you did to me—"

"I said I was sorry about that," Harry said.

"Did you?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "All I know is that you took your things back and didn't blink twice."

"You changed your wards!"

"Says the man who broke into Gringotts when he was a boy."

"I just—" Harry sighed. "I couldn't give in, because if we didn't work out, I don't know how I would survive that. I was afraid of falling in love and what it would feel like if it ended." There was no point in holding back now. Harry had lost Malfoy. Harry didn't know how to commit, he didn't want to commit. He had nothing but failed relationships for the past few years after Ginny. If he'd committed to Malfoy, it would fail too. And Harry really didn't know if he could survive losing Malfoy—for some reason—it always came back to Malfoy.

"Do you think it could feel worse than how you feel right now?" Malfoy asked.

"Nothing can feel worse than I feel right now," Harry answered.

"Good, I'm glad."

"I don't understand."

Malfoy smiled. It was his 'Oh, look at me, I'm so smart smile'. "I needed you to finally understand what it felt like to be with you, to want you, and not have you—"

"You really needed to make it all so dramatic?" Harry asked. He pulled on Malfoy's arm again and eventually settled when they were holding hands.

Malfoy gently caressed Harry's hand with his thumb. "Well, subtlety is not exactly your forte."

"So...now what?"

"You tell me."

"I can't continue on my life the way it's been the past week."

"I can't continue on the way it has been for the past few months," Malfoy replied.

"I'll do more. Be more. Give more."

"Spend more nights at my flat?"

"Yes."

"Go to dinner in a proper restaurant and not just get takeaway."

Harry nodded.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow again. "Take me shopping?"

Harry scowled. "Fine."

"Meet me in the loo?"

"What?"

"Make up sex, Potter." Malfoy snapped his fingers. "Catch on."

"Alright," Harry said sceptically.

Malfoy stood up and began to walk away. He turned to look at Harry. "Come on, Potter. I haven't got all night."

"Just because we're together, doesn't mean you can just boss me around all the time now," Harry answered, obediently following Malfoy into the loo.

"What are you going to do? Shove me against the wall again? Manhandle me?" Malfoy gave a sly smile.

"See, I knew you were acting. You like it rough."

Malfoy scowled.

"Tell me you weren't turned on."

Malfoy scoffed and Harry knew he was pretending again.

"Fuck the loo," Harry said and Malfoy gave him a questioning look. "Fuck this party. Let's go to my flat."

"I have a reservation at the Villa Portofino."

"And when were you going to tell me that?" Harry all but growled his question.

"When you told me you loved me," Malfoy answered.

"I haven't—"

"And I'm waiting."

Harry grimaced for a moment. "Fine. I love you, Malfoy. I am sorry I was an arse for such a long time."

"Merlin, you're such a sap, Potter."

Malfoy wrapped his arm around Harry's waist and Apparated them to the hotel room at the Villa Portofino. The next day, Malfoy took Harry to brunch at L'Escargot Bleu in wizarding London and shopping for four hours.

Harry complained the entire time, but it was one of the best days he'd spent with Malfoy. Especially because he could see how happy it made Malfoy that, they were no longer, drinking in secret.

THE END

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