(A/N: Rated M for mature language.

This here is a fic inspired by the word 'deception' on the FanFiction . net Writers Unite! group on FB. I'm branching out a bit and this start as a Harry/Ginny short (-gasp!- I know!); Probably because I quite like the idea of Ginny being chucked out on her ass for trying to play Harry. Heh.

Warnings: Non-canon/EWE. MalexMale slash (Non-graphic mentions at first). Dub-con? Cursing.

Enjoy! :))

Harry lightly stomps his feet as he comes in the front door. He shakes his shoulders, quite like his Labrador cross Max would, making the snow shift off and fall to the hallway carpet in heavy, wet clumps. He banishes the mess before Ginny can see it and say something. (She always has something to say about anything but it didn't do to invoke her wrath needlessly.) He toes off his boots and, avoiding the still damp spots, shuffles down the hallway in his socks.

He pauses in the doorway to their sunny yellow kitchen, cocking his head slightly. "What are you doin'?"

Ginny freezes, her hand tightening on the potion vial in her hand. She slowly turns her head, cursing mentally when she sees Harry standing there. His hair is a little damp from melting snow and his cheeks are still a little pink from the cold. Adorable, really. But instead of being warmed at the sight, she feels panic surge through her, making her skin feel too tight. She curses again; she hadn't heard him come home. Early. The insufferable arse.

"What?" she asks, hoping he doesn't see the tiny vial. She subtly curls her fingers around it and lowers her hand, letting it rest by the pitcher on the counter.

"I asked what you were doing," Harry repeats, his eyes starting to narrow ever-so-slightly. He saw the vial and he's starting to feel anger bubble up through his chest. His temples are starting to throb painfully with each thud of his heart beat as it kicked up. There aren't many potions that come in a vibrant, sickly pink; none of them useful outside of enslavement or inducing false feelings. He clenches the hand he has resting on the doorjamb.

Ginny blinks when she hears wood creaking and her eyes drift to where Harry's hand is squeezing the doorjamb. She cringes when a crack forms, splintering out from under Harry's hand about a foot up and down, like a jagged lightning bolt. "Nothing," she tries, her gaze rapidly returning to Harry's face.

She swallows heavily when Harry takes two stiff steps into the kitchen. She knows he wouldn't hit her, Harry isn't that kind of bloke, but she also knows his magic still, occasionally, lashed out wildly when he was experiencing strong emotions. It's one of the few embarrassing things about the man. Children had wild fits of magic... "Harry-"

"What the fuck are you doing with that?" Harry asks lowly, his finger jabbing the air angrily to where Ginny's hand is still curled around the potion vial. He doesn't know if she had actually gotten around to pouring it all in the pumpkin juice or not. His pumpkin juice. He barks a short, bitter laugh; no wonder Ginny 'lost her taste' for pumpkin juice once they left Hogwarts.

Ginny can't help it, she steps back another step when Harry takes another towards her. She isn't scared of him. He wouldn't physically hurt her. She repeats these words in her head a few times and is sure they're true. But with each labored breath Harry takes, she fears it's becoming less true. She watches his face cloud and darken with anger. "I- Fred- It's not what you think!" she finally settles on.

Shame prickles through her that she had even thought about blaming her brother... Harry adores Fred as a brother and she knows her brother would be ashamed to know she even knew where to get such a potion. Let alone dose Harry with it weekly; for years. She takes a moment to curse herself for forgetting to slip the potion in Harry's juice yesterday. Really... this is only her own fault. And Merlin, does that sting.

"Oh?" Harry asks, his voice low and deceptively calm.

He sways a little, suddenly feeling a little dizzy as a curious sensation crawls through him -like his blood is suddenly full of ice crystals. As the shiver that works down his body ends at his toes, making them curl almost painfully in his socks, heat flashes through him as if he has lava replace his blood. He only tightens his fists, refusing to show any reaction. When the heat finally tapers off, thank Merlin, he blinks a few times and stumbles back two steps. "You-" he whispers, horrified. He stares in shock at the red-head in front of him, feeling nothing but contempt and a slick, dirty sensation of being violated.

It's like looking at a stranger and the truth feels like a slap across his face. He nearly rocks his head with the phantom hit. He closes his eyes, barely holding in a whimper of despair. Or a growl of rage. He doesn't know which feeling is more dominate at the moment, so he stays quiet.

Ginny gasps, cursing herself again for waiting -she had been skirting just this side of good luck after waiting a day as it was. And Harry for being home early. Another few seconds and she would have pushed his spiked glass of juice in his hand like any other day and this wouldn't have happened! She cautiously reaches a hand out. It's harshly slapped and she quickly curls it against her chest. "Harry?" she asks cautiously, watching as his eyes slowly crawl over her face and body. They're clear. Shining like vibrant emeralds; as clear as the day she'd graduated Hogwart's and started this whole mess at her graduation party.

They're also full of revulsion and a level of anger she has never seen directed at her. She idly wonders if anyone has... Her pulse picks up and she feels sweat break out along her hairline. Shit. Shit. Shit. This is not good... Her eyes dart around the room rapidly, looking for a way out. Just in case.

She gets a mental flash of her wand on the bathroom counter, having left it there after a hasty depilatory charm in preparation for later, and feels remarkably stupid.

"Get away from me!" Harry hisses and steps back, landing painfully against the wall by the door. He chokes on his breath, the realization dawning fully that the relationship he had been in for years with the woman in front of him has been a lie. A manipulated, potion induced lie. "How... Why would you do this to me?" he asks quietly. He knows she'd say it was because she loved him but he can't believe it. Won't believe it. Who could do something like this to someone they loved? He shudders violently and rubs at his arms.

His breath stutters, choking him; love. He had loved someone before Ginny. Flashes of playful smirks, blonde hair and flushed pale skin had him gasping softly. Anger throbs dully through him again when he realizes he had never been given a chance to give a proper goodbye. He feels sick, wondering how Draco would have felt to just be suddenly dropped, never spoken to again. And he hadn't even known... His chest clenches painfully and he feels his knees go watery.

Thankfully, the wall holds him and he doesn't have the added embarrassment of falling to his knees in front of Ginny.

"Harry, please. I love y-"

"No!" Harry shouts, pushing off the wall and rushing towards Ginny. He no longer cares what selfish reasons she had; it doesn't matter anymore. His hands twitch with the urge to wrap around her slender, pale neck and he hastily shoved them in his pockets. Choking the breath from the witch won't help anyone. "No, you don't get to say that to me. This is not what one does to someone they 'love'," he sneers, making angry quote marks with his fingers. "What was it really, Ginevra?" he asks coldly, still sneering, ignoring her flinch at her given name. "Fame? Money?"

Ginny blanches, she could actually feel the blood drop from her face.

Well, it had been all of those things... She did love Harry, she had since she'd first laid eyes on him when she was 10 years old. The money he received from both Sirius and his parents... well, it was quite a nice bonus, too. She certainly wouldn't have been able to be in such a large, modern home otherwise. She never tired of seeing them in the paper, either. Pictures of her proudly on Harry's arm. It stung a bit that her position on the Quidditch team was partly due to being Harry Potter's girlfriend, but she stayed on the team by her own efforts.

"Uhm, well... No, I don't-"

"Just stop," Harry says sadly, holding up a hand and backing up to slump against the wall again. He feels tired, drained and weak. He doesn't know if it was the whirlwind of emotions or the effect of the potion burning out of his body. He doesn't really care. He just wants to curl up under a heavy blanket and sleep. Preferably for days. "Who else knew?" he asks coldly, his gaze intense and daring her to lie.

He didn't make his relationship with Draco public, but they didn't hide it (especially not from his close friends), either. None of their friends had seemed all that surprised, really, but it still took a few weeks for the nasty looks and stiff gatherings to diminish and everyone to actually get along. He wondered if that was part of Ginny's reasoning; To save him from Draco. He grit his teeth at the very idea.

Draco is a private man, saving most affectionate gestures for when they had privacy, but he had never failed to make Harry feel anything less than cherished and loved. He thought everyone else knew that too and he couldn't bare to think any of his friends, or the Weasleys, had supported Ginny in this... debacle.

"No one," Ginny says quickly. She had made sure of it. Not only was using such a strong love potion illegal, none of her friends or family would have approved. They hadn't been exactly thrilled for Harry and Malfoy, but they accepted the couple; Harry was happy and cared for. It was stupid, that it was all anyone else really cared about. She would've too, if it hadn't been Malfoy.

She remembers the white hot rage she felt, her vision actually going dark with it, whenever Malfoy would kiss Harry -a gentle press of lips and his hand cupping Harry's jaw tenderly. Her teeth would grit when he'd casually touch Harry's shoulder, arm or leg when they sat. Her hands would clench into fists each time their fingers would link together, the move casual and affectionate. It just wasn't right and so obviously a put on.

Malfoy is not a tender, caring person. Harry deserved better than him.

Harry nods stiffly. He doesn't want to show the relief at those words and scowls instead. "Here's what's going to happen, Ginevra; we're breaking up," he says clearly, his words clipped. He feels overwhelmingly relieved that they hadn't married. Yet. He saw the calculating looks and not-so-subtly hidden bridal magazines. He doesn't know what kept Ginny from just forcing the issue but he doesn't care at the moment.

"I'm leaving you with nothing but what's on your back. You're going to get the fuck out of my house and never speak to me again. I don't want to see you or even hear your voice, ever again."

"But-"

"No!" Harry says, resisting the urge to yell. "You have no say in this any longer." He reaches over and pries the vial from her fingers, her surprise making her fingers lax and easy to uncurl. He holds it up in front of her wide eyes. "This-" he hisses, waving the vial for emphasis, "-would get you twenty years in Azkaban. Thirty, hopefully, because you dared to use it on me." He feels a little dirty playing the I'm-the-Savior card, but he hopes it will help her see he isn't messing around. "Leave now or I owl Kingsley."

Ginny stares, blinking stupidly until she sees the determination in Harry's eyes and in the firm set of his jaw. He would do it; he would call on his friendship with the Minister for this. She doesn't say another word, just edges around the quietly enraged man and slowly makes her way up the stairs. A quiet, "my wand" her only explanation for her detour from the front door. She winces when she realizes Harry is following her, his eyes narrowed and still full of rage. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

"No, you're not," Harry says coldly. "You're only sorry you got caught. You've got your wand. Now get. Out."

Ginny nods and carefully eases around Harry again, rethinking the last moment decision of touching him. It's clear he is no longer under the potion's influence and the thin rein on his temper will probably snap if she dares lay a finger on him. As confident as she'd been earlier that Harry wouldn't hurt her, she feels it wise to not test the man. She wordlessly swings her cloak around her and leaves.

Harry watches the door close behind Ginny and sighs deeply, sagging against the wall. He takes a few moments to alter the wards; painfully barring Ginny should she ever be stupid enough to try to come back. He slides down the wall and lets the hot prickling feeling behind his eyes take over, not even wiping at the tears that spring up and trail hotly down his cheeks. He feels he's allowed a moment of self-pity. Anyone should be after learning of such deception.

He lets his forehead rest on his knees until the urge to cry has passed, his face damp and stiff but he feels a little better. He slowly gets to his feet and shuffles towards his room, pausing in the doorway.

The girly pink décor seems to suck all the air out of his chest, making the room look tiny and unwelcoming. And it stinks of Ginny's flowery perfume. He groans softly and turns, heading for the furthest guest room.

He needs a nap.

Then he is going to send a few owls.