emmagrant01 | FIC: Surrender the Grey (12/30)

NOTE: This is the first draft of this story. The final version can be read HERE.

Title: Surrender the Grey
Author: Emma Grant
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Draco Malfoy returns to London after five years of self-imposed exile to start a new life with Harry. But will the secrets of the past destroy everything they've worked for?
Sequel to: Left My Heart. This will make much more sense if you have read that first!
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no copyright violation intended.
Length: 150,000 words
Status: COMPLETED November 2, 2005 (Posted March 2 - November 2, 2005)
Notes:
1. Please don't archive this story yet! This is the first draft, and in the next few months, it will be revised and edited. I'll post the final version on my website and a few other select archives, but in the meantime, feel free to link to this post.
2. There aren't enough words to say THANK YOU to

jedirita,

hazelhawthorne, and

(12)

The apparition room in the Farringdon branch of the Ministry of Magic office complex was unusually brightly lit. Draco always forgot to close his eyes when he apparated there.

"Shit," he muttered, squinting.

Manny appeared next to him a second later, wearing a pair of Muggle sunglasses. He grinned at Draco.

"Clever," Draco said, rolling his eyes.

Manny removed the sunglasses. "Hearing you bitch about it is half the fun of coming here."

"And what's the other half?" Draco asked as they stepped through the door into the main corridor.

"Hi," Manny said, looking over Draco's shoulder and grinning from ear to ear.

"Hello," Hermione replied, stepping forward to kiss him. She was grinning too. "We're meeting in a different place, so I thought I'd come meet you. Harry's running a bit late."

"That's a surprise," Draco snorted. Harry's habitual lateness was endearing to an extent, but Draco reserved the right to give him shit about it.

The conference room was on a different level than the apparition room, up two floors and across the building. Hermione smiled at Draco as they walked along. "Thanks for coming on such short notice. We could really use your help."

Draco shrugged. "No problem. It sounds like you've made a lot of progress."

"We have," Hermione nodded. "But I should probably tell you about it in a more secure place."

They continued in silence, Hermione and Manny brushing each other's shoulders as they walked. Draco trailed behind them, watching. Manny was completely smitten, and so was Hermione, from what Draco could tell. Draco had pressed Manny for details on more than one occasion, but Manny was increasingly tight-lipped about their relationship. Draco figured that was a good sign, as Manny had always been the sort to kiss and tell.

A twinge in Draco's temple interrupted his thoughts -- the smothering spell. He could feel it snake around him, like tendrils of smoke filtering into his mind. It took concentration to keep it at bay. Draco worked through the mental exercises he'd taught Harry as they walked along. He had no idea if Hermione and Manny felt it as strongly as he did. He couldn't imagine the effect of living with it every day for years, as so many in this building had done.

The conference room they met in was the same one where Draco had seen Harry for the first time after returning to England a few weeks before. He hadn't been in it since then and it gave him a strange thrill to see the room. He sank into the same chair he'd been in that day and ran his hand over the table. Harry had sat right here and kissed him, even after Draco'd confessed to being a horribly lovesick idiot.

This was why he'd come back -- because of Harry. Not because of smothering spells or his father's scheming or anything else. Because he loved Harry.

The door opened and Harry came in. He paused when he saw Draco, looking remarkably like he'd done three weeks ago when he walked through that door and saw Draco for the first time.

Draco smiled.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, frowning. Draco's smile faded.

"I invited him," Hermione said, opening a folder in front of her. "I want to know what he thinks."

"Is that all right?" Draco asked.

"Yes, of course," Harry said, taking a seat across from Draco. "Sorry -- I was just surprised to see you." He smiled.

"Harry, why don't you begin?" Hermione said. She was still shuffling through pieces of parchment.

Harry nodded and looked across the table at Manny. "We've been suspicious for a week now that the smothering spell was being implemented by an individual," Harry said. "This morning I received an anonymous tip to that effect."

"So you're fairly certain?" Manny asked.

Hermione pulled a sheet of parchment from the stack and slid it over to Manny. "I crunched the numbers this morning. The detection array we set up in the building registers fairly regular patterns of strength and weakness, consistent with the hours kept by the staff. The differences are statistically significant."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You didn't have to go to all that trouble."

"Yes, I did," Hermione replied, giving Harry a look that Draco imagined she had been perfecting for years. "We're going to need this sort of evidence if we're going to get permission to cast a surveillance net."

"A net?" Draco repeated, glancing at each of them in turn. "You're joking."

Hermione turned her look to Draco. "We need to track movements of individuals in the building if we have any hope of catching the culprit."

Draco folded his hands on the table. "You invited me here so I could give you my opinion, correct?" Hermione nodded, and Draco took a deep breath. "All right. In my opinion this is a terrible idea, for several reasons. First, surveillance nets are very difficult spells to cast. You'd need at least six people working in tandem to cast one on a building this size. Second, it's so difficult to do that you won't be able to cast it without people finding out, and they aren't going to like it. They'll change their behavior patterns out of sheer self-consciousness. That will cloak the movements of the source and fuck your stats right up. You'll have no chance to use your original numbers as a baseline -- not for a week or so at least." Hermione was still frowning, but she was listening. Draco paused, trying to gage the others' responses to his words. "And third… well, perhaps I should ask this question first: If you uncovered the source, what would you do?"

"What would we do?" Harry repeated. He blinked at Draco. "Arrest them, probably. Shut down the smothering spell as quickly as possible."

"Are you certain that's a good idea?" The others stared at him, but Draco held Harry's gaze. "After all, as long as it's in place, they won't have to act. But if you take it down, perhaps they'll panic, do something rash."

"But eliminating the smothering spell has been the goal all along," Harry replied. "It's the first step in the investigation."

"If you know who is generating the spell, you could simply watch him for a while," Draco said. "It would be an opportunity to learn more about their entire operation."

"He has a point," Hermione interjected.

Harry sighed and pursed his lips. "Yes, he does. I just… How do we know we won't learn a great deal by lifting the spell? Perhaps people will remember things, or we'll see new clues we've been missing."

"Yes, that could be true," Draco replied, keeping his tone even. He had more than one reason to convince them not to take down the smothering spell, and he knew he needed to tread lightly here. "But as long as the spell is in place, it could provide cover to investigate who in this building is working with the Death Eaters. If the source is caught, we'll have lost that opportunity."

"Perhaps we could just wait a week," Manny suggested, "and continue our investigation as if nothing had been learned. If nothing turns up, we can arrest the source."

"I agree," Hermione said. "If they don't know we've found them, they won't have their guard up." All three of them turned to look at Harry.

Harry shrugged. "I seem to be in the minority. But for the record, I think this is a bad idea."

Hermione nodded. "Noted. It's settled, then."

"Of course, all of this is still hypothetical," Harry said, one eyebrow quirked upwards. "We still don't know who the source is."

"Any ideas how to go about finding him?" Draco asked.

"Or her," Hermione said. "We shouldn't make assumptions just yet."

Draco studied his fingernails and shrugged.

"Even though Draco objects, there's still the net," Harry said.

Manny shook his head. "Too easy to sense. I agree that everyone will know we're up to something. We should do this as quietly as possible."

They all stared at the table for a long moment.

Draco rubbed at his temple. "If you can narrow the pool of suspects down to a handful, it might be possible to cast tracking spells."

"They'd notice that, don't you think?" Harry snorted.

"Not necessarily," Draco replied. "There are ways of casting such spells surreptitiously. I used to do it quite a lot when working undercover -- though never with something as complex as what you'd need here."

"That was Ron's speciality, actually," Hermione said, twisting a lock of hair around one finger. "In fact, I still have his old notes. I coded them all myself and packed them away after he died." She looked at Harry. "He might have found something useful. Maybe I should look through them?"

Harry's forehead furrowed. "Are you sure? I could do it, if you want."

Hermione smiled. "No, I can do it. I want to, actually."

Draco glanced at Manny. Manny's expression was a mix of sympathy and concern. He wasn't trying to catch Hermione's eye, and he didn't seem the least bit uncomfortable at the emotion in Hermione's voice at the mention of her late husband. Draco wondered how Manny managed not to be jealous of Ron -- especially since Draco could barely manage it himself, and Ron and Harry were never even involved.

"In the meantime, let's split up the list of suspects," Harry said, pulling a piece of parchment from Hermione's stack. "We can narrow it down to a handful while we're trying to find a solution." He read the list of names aloud.

Draco claimed a few that he knew were allies of his father's, thinking he could kill two birds with one stone. If anyone thought his choices strange, they didn't say.

+++

Tonks hadn't responded to any of his owls this week, so Draco didn't expect her to respond to this one. Of course, he hoped she'd find this information a bit more intriguing.

~~~

Tonks,

I've made contact. I have much to tell you, including some new inside information.

I still need those files if you've been able to get them. Please respond with a time we can meet.

Draco

~~~

He folded the note and prepared to cast the sealing charm, then looked up to see Grizabella standing beside his desk. She had an odd expression on her face -- even more odd than usual.

"There's a man all dressed in brown asking for you," she said.

Draco blinked at her. "Really? Where?"

She nodded towards the entrance. "Outside. Seems a bit agitated. I found him out there pounding on the door. Says he has something for you."

Draco followed her to the front, wondering who the hell would know to find him here. He held his wand at his side as Grizabella pushed open the front door.

A man in a UPS uniform stood on the pavement, clutching a clipboard and a small package. He looked rather confused.

Draco grinned at Grizabella and sheathed his wand in his sleeve. "It's all right," he told her, then turned to the man. "You have a delivery for me?"

The man handed him the clipboard and pointed at where Draco should sign. "I've been standing out here for ten minutes. Didn't think anyone was in this building." He craned his neck to peer into the open doorway, but Grizabella closed it until only her foot was keeping it open.

"We're renovating," Draco told him. "It'll take a while to clean up the mess, though." He smiled and handed the clipboard back.

"Here you are," the man said, handing him a thick envelope. "Good luck cleaning this place up."

Draco waited until the man's back was turned before opening the door enough to slip back inside. "It's a Muggle delivery service," he told Grizabella.

"Ah," she said, but her strange expression hadn't changed.

"Oh, there's a note on my desk that needs to be owled to Ms. Tonks at the Ministry. Will you take care of that right away?"

"Yes sir." She disappeared around the corner.

Draco turned the envelope over. The return address was that of the FBI office he'd worked for in New York. He opened it while walking back to his office, not looking up when he passed Grizabella in the corridor. The envelope contained a thick stack of papers, and on top of the stack was a hand-written note.

~~

Draco,

Here are your employment records from November 2000 through May 2001, as requested. I had to be a little sneaky about getting them -- technically, you need special permission to access these. That's two you owe me now. When are you going to be back in town?

Jeff

~~~

Draco spread the papers out on his desk, scanning over them. He had been deep undercover for much of this time period, so the records were sketchy. In November, he'd been assigned to infiltrate a group of Canadian Death Eaters that were running drugs across the border at Niagara. The assignment had lasted until the beginning of January, and the record mostly consisted of his own reports highlighting how much he hated Buffalo's weather. That assignment had been semi-successful, though. He hadn't had to buy weed for months after, and he still kept in touch with a few of those blokes. One never knew when such connections might be useful.

In mid-January, he'd gone undercover again, this time staying in the city. His assignment had been to investigate the murder of an FBI informant by a particularly malicious group of Death Eaters who operated on the lower east side. He'd infiltrated the group easily using his own identity -- the Malfoy name carried a surprising amount of weight on the east coast of the US.

Draco read through the papers twice, but found no records between January 20 and February 13. He'd sent a brief note in to the FBI reporting his early success in infiltrating the group, and then nothing until another report weeks later indicating that he'd learned the informant had been feeding the FBI false information in the first place.

Draco leaned back in his chair and rubbed at his temples. He remembered the day he'd filed that second report. He'd just come from a particularly interesting meeting with the Death Eater crew and realized he hadn't reported in weeks. The fact that he'd made such a huge slip had frightened him at the time -- he'd worked hard to maintain a delicate balance as a freelance operative. Forgetting to report to one of his employers was uncharacteristically irresponsible of him. It had been another year before he'd realized he couldn't remember anything from that time period.

He had hoped the FBI's records would reveal something else, but they seemed to be restricted to his own reports, along with the occasional summary written by a supervisor. There was a record indicating he'd been out of the country when he'd lived just across the border from Buffalo, but no record suggested he'd left the US during the missing weeks.

Perhaps Snape was wrong. If Draco had left the US, surely the FBI would have a record of it. He'd checked his passport three times in the last few days, but there was nothing there to indicate he'd been back in the UK three years ago.

It was just another dead end. Draco gathered the papers back together and shoved them in a desk drawer. It was beyond frustrating. He had no idea what was real and what was not.

Perhaps he should ask his father after all. So far, their communications had only consisted of a few words sent by owl. Draco hadn't seen Lucius yet, and hoped not to.

At least the man wasn't tormenting his dreams any more.

+++

At a quarter to seven, Draco couldn't wait any longer. He flooed to Harry's flat.

The scent of something roasting filled the air, making Draco's stomach rumble. In the kitchen, a few pots were bubbling away on the stove. Harry was nowhere in sight.

"Harry?" Draco called, dusting himself off. He put the bottle of dessert wine he'd brought into the refrigerator.

"In here!" he heard from the bedroom.

Draco peeked through the doorway to see Harry standing before the mirror over the dresser, staring at his own reflection. He ran a hand through his unruly hair, smoothing it down, then picked his glasses up from the dresser and put them on.

"You're early," he said, straightening out the black jumper he'd apparently just pulled over his head. He wore nothing else but his underpants.

"Is that a problem?" Draco asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Harry turned and smiled at him. "Of course not. I'd just planned to be dressed before you got here."

Draco walked towards him, grinning. "Why bother? It's just going to come off again straight away." His hands slid around Harry's hips to squeeze his arse.

Harry laughed. "Dinner's almost ready."

"Oh, come on," Draco whispered, lips trailing over Harry's neck. "If we do it now, we'll be ready for another go after dessert."

"I'm in the middle of cooking," Harry protested, though he let his head fall back enough to give Draco more access.

"This won't take long," Draco said, dropping to his knees.

Harry put his hands on his hips and grinned down at him. "Oh, all right."

Draco tugged his underpants down enough to free his cock and swallowed it. A moment later, Harry's hands were in Draco's hair and he was gasping for breath.

"God, that's… you have to teach me how to do that thing you do with your tongue."

Draco did it again, and Harry leaned back against the dresser for support, groaning.

"Wait," Harry said, pushing him back. "Timer's going off… shit."

"Cast a spell or something," Draco whined.

"Can't," Harry panted. "Sorry. I'll be right back, okay? Don't move." He kissed the top of Draco's head and kicked his underpants off before disappearing through the door.

Draco sat on his heels for a moment before following. Harry was removing a baking dish from the oven when Draco turned the corner. He was naked from the waist down and his erection jutted out from his body almost comically. He set the dish on the stove.

"Don't hurt yourself," Draco quipped. "That's quite a valuable part of your anatomy you're letting get close to open flame."

"It's fine," Harry grinned. "You think I haven't cooked in the nude before?"

Draco eyed Harry's erection. "Is it always so exciting for you?"

Harry rolled his eyes in response. Draco stepped behind him as he pulled foil back from the dish to reveal a whole chicken. "That smells fantastic," Draco whispered, catching Harry's earlobe between his lips.

"Is this really such a good moment to distract me?" Harry asked.

Draco reached down and found Harry's erection. "Maybe I'd better keep this safe for you." He stroked slowly and felt Harry shudder against him.

"Draco, please," Harry whimpered. He managed to toss the foil aside, and then planted a hand on the countertop on each side of the stove. "Just give me a minute, okay? I need to taste what's in these pots and then I'm all yours, I promise."

"But I need to taste you," Draco replied, dropping to his knees. He pried Harry's arse cheeks apart with his fingers.

"Oh god," Harry said. His hands hadn't left the countertop.

Draco flicked his tongue lightly across Harry's exposed hole and Harry whimpered. Draco pulled his cheeks further apart and continued a slow tease with his tongue. The fact that Harry liked this so much motivated him to go as slowly as he could bear, even though his own cock was aching in his trousers. He pressed the tip of his tongue into the center of the hole and was surprised at how easily it gave way.

He smiled and pushed his tongue in, and Harry groaned. Draco fucked him with his tongue slowly and steadily, trying not to think about how much he wanted to do this with another part of his body. Maybe later. Harry wasn't putting up any resistance at the moment, and that was a good sign.

Harry's hand had drifted down to stroke himself while Draco rimmed him. The display was nearly shocking -- Draco hadn't seen Harry touch himself like that before. Unfortunately, he still couldn't see it from this position.

"Harry," he panted, "I want --"

"Me too," Harry said turning around and pulling Draco up. "I want to touch you." His eyes were dark and wild, and the sight of it made Draco melt. He let Harry fumble with the fastening of his trousers and push them down, even let Harry bat his hands away from that gorgeous cock Draco wanted to taste again. Harry looked around the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of cooking oil.

"Wait, you're not going to--" Draco's protest was cut off by Harry's mouth over his. He felt Harry's slick hand around his cock, felt him press it against his own and stroke both together, hot and slick. "Mmmmphff," Draco said, twining his arms around Harry's neck.

Harry backed them up against the refrigerator and pumped his hand, pressing their cocks together. The oil was slick and getting warmer by the second, and the sensation of Harry's foreskin sliding against his own felt better than Draco could have imagined. He was nearly limp from the pleasure of it, from the feeling of Harry's tongue swirling around his, from the heat and desire pouring off his body in waves Draco could nearly feel. He was drowning, he thought.

His orgasm hit him hard, so hard his knees buckled. He was dimly aware of Harry biting his shoulder, hand clenched tightly around their cocks, motion frozen.

Draco opened his eyes. "Why are we on the floor?"

Harry's damp forehead was pressed into his neck. "Why not?"

Draco let his head fall back against the refrigerator. "I don't think I've had sex on a kitchen floor before."

"You're kidding," Harry said. He kissed Draco's cheek and pushed himself to his feet. "Hungry?"

"Mmmm, yeah." Draco sighed, smiling up at him. The fluorescent light above Harry's head framed his hair, almost looking like a halo. Saint Potter. Draco grinned.

+++

The chicken was good, if not fantastic. Harry had paired it with a light American pinot noir, which surprised Draco. Either Harry had learned enough to know it was a good match or he was so ignorant of wine that he wasn't even aware of the common misconception that all chicken should be served with white wine.

"This is nice," Draco said, taking a bite of chicken.

"Thanks," Harry replied, smiling. "This is a standby, actually. Easy to make when distracted."

Draco grinned. "I'm just glad you're not cross with me about the meeting today."

Harry shrugged and cut a piece of asparagus in half. "Let's not talk about work tonight."

"All right." Draco thought for a moment, searching for a topic. "Did you ever get your floo wards reset?"

"No," Harry replied. "Been too busy. Besides, I sort of like the fact that you're the only person who can pop over unannounced."

"I never pop over unannounced."

"But you could," Harry said, sipping his wine.

"I prefer that you know I'm coming, so a lavish feast such as this can be prepared." Harry rolled his eyes, and Draco laughed. "No, it's very good, really!"

"I used to hate cooking," Harry said, pausing to take a bite of chicken. "My aunt and uncle made me do all of the cooking once I was old enough to reach the oven."

Draco placed his knife and fork at four o'clock and picked up his wine glass. He knew a little about Harry's upbringing, but it was a topic Harry didn't discuss much. "Did they?"

"Yes. Of course, my aunt was a terrible cook and a worse teacher, and they all had completely pedestrian tastes in cuisine. I can make eighteen different kinds of casserole, but that's hardly cooking."

Draco swirled the remains of the pinot in his glass. "So who taught you to cook?"

Harry pursed his lips. "Cho, actually. Her mother is a gourmet, or something, so she was very good at it too. She started dreading my cooking nights, and she finally took it upon herself to teach me some of the basics." He smiled.

Draco wasn't sure he liked discussing something good about Harry's ex-wife. "I took a cooking class in New York once."

"Really?" Harry pushed his plate away.

"I had a few friends who were into that sort of thing. I'd grown up with wine and fine food, and I was tired of having to go to restaurants all the time to get it. I decided to learn how Muggles managed."

Harry laughed, then looked thoughtful for a moment. "You're so different than you were in school."

Draco drained his wine glass. "So are you. I brought some dessert wine. Want to try it?"

"Sure," Harry replied.

Draco retrieved the bottle from the fridge and searched the cabinets for appropriate glasses. When he could find none, he dug out his wand and transfigured the ones on the table into slim flutes with flared rims.

"You're trying to tell me something," Harry quipped.

"Took you long enough to catch on." Draco opened the bottle with a quick spell and poured wine into each glass. "This is called ice wine," he told Harry. "It's a speciality in upstate New York."

Harry swirled his glass, watching the liquid cling to the sides. "Did you bring this with you from America?"

"I bought it in the wine shop down the street from my flat, actually," Draco grinned, taking a sip.

"Sweet," Harry said. "I like it."

Draco smiled at him. "I thought you would."

Harry stood and moved to the sofa, gesturing for Draco to follow. They sat and leaned against each other, watching the fire. Harry sipped his wine for a few quiet moments, and then set his glass down. "I have something for you."

Draco grinned. "My surprise?"

"Hold out your hand," Harry said. Draco did, and Harry dropped something into it.

Draco stared at it for a moment. "A key?" He looked up at Harry.

"To the flat," Harry explained. "I thought you should have one."

"Okay," Draco said, staring down at it. "Thanks." He'd been expecting… well, something a little more interesting than that.

"And I was thinking," Harry began, words a little rushed, as if he were nervous, "that you could move in. If you wanted." He bit his lip and picked up his glass again, taking a large gulp of wine.

Draco felt his stomach drop. "I… move in?" He stared at Harry.

"Yeah," Harry said, fingers twisting around the stem of the wine glass. "Move in."

"You're serious," Draco said, blowing out a breath. He had no idea how to respond to this.

"Yes, of course," Harry replied, finally looking up. "We're always at each other's places anyway, and--"

"I have a lease," Draco interrupted. "I can't just leave Manny there."

Harry blinked at him. "I'm sure he'd be fine. We could just buy it out."

"We?" Draco repeated. His stomach was churning. "Harry… don't you think it's a bit soon to be thinking of living together?"

"No," Harry replied, eyes earnest.

Draco stared at him for a moment. "It's only been two weeks."

Harry's face was carefully blank. "Almost three. I… I thought this was what you wanted."

"What I wanted? Oh, god." Draco put his wine glass down and leaned forward, head in his hands. This was terrifying in a way he couldn't have predicted. He was in love with Harry, but the idea of living with someone he barely knew--

"Well, what do you want, then?" Harry asked. His voice had an edge of frustration to it. "When you came here you said you wanted to get married someday and I thought--"

"I never said that!" Draco blurted, tone harsher than he'd intended. Hurt flashed in Harry's eyes for a moment. Draco felt full-fledged panic begin to settle in his gut. "I mean, someday is a long way off. We barely know each other. Why rush things?"

"We barely know each other?" Harry repeated. "How can you say that? We've spent most of the last month together. You know me better than anyone, even Hermione."

Draco cringed. Harry only thought he knew Draco, and that made the whole situation worse. "Can we please just take it slow for a while? My lease is up in a little more than two months. I'm supposed to go back to New York, but--"

"You're still thinking of going back?" Harry was on his feet now, staring down at Draco. "Have I been misinterpreting all of this?"

"No!" Draco said. "Harry, that's not it at all."

Harry was staring at the fireplace. "I'm a world class idiot, aren't I?"

"Harry… don't, please."

"Oh god," Harry breathed. "I thought you felt the same way I did."

"I do, I just…" Draco pulled his knees into his chest. "This is new to me, you know. I've never been in a serious relationship, and you… you've been married. Maybe it's easy for you to just rearrange your life around this, but I can't."

"Why not?" Harry said, pacing now.

"Because… I don't know. Because I'm terrified. Because I have no idea what to expect. Because I need more time."

"Because you still don't trust me," Harry said.

"That's not true!"

"I've tried to be who you want me to be, Draco. What more do you want me to do?"

"I want you to be yourself. I don't want you to pretend to be something you're not." He looked away from Harry then, flinching at his own hypocrisy. The truth was that Draco didn't think Harry would want him if he knew everything. If he knew Draco had been meeting with Death Eaters all week, or that he'd been lying to everyone all along, for years now. He wasn't going to let himself get too entangled in this relationship before all of that was sorted out. He had to protect himself. No one else would.

"I love you," Harry said, voice so soft Draco almost missed the words. He looked up. "And that's who I am right now. Someone who loves you."

Draco felt emotion swelling in his throat and pushed it back down. He had no doubt that Harry was being earnest, that he really, truly loved the person he thought Draco was.

But that wasn't real.

"I'm sorry," Draco whispered, voice hoarse. "Please just… I want this Harry, I really do, but--"

"But you don't love me," Harry said.

"No, that's not… I do. I really think I do. I just--"

"You think you love me?" Harry snorted, turning to stare at him. "Don't fuck with me, Draco, not now." Draco looked up. "I've handed you my heart on a silver fucking platter, and you've rejected it. Don't patronize me on top of everything else."

"I'm not patronizing you!"

"Has this all been about sex for you?" Harry asked, eyes hard. "Is that it? Were you just going to stick around long enough to get me to bottom for you and then head back to New York, another notch on your bedpost?"

"Oh, please," Draco replied. "Don't be ridiculous!"

"I think you should go," Harry said, folding his arms over his chest and turning away.

"What?" Draco's voice rose to an embarrassing pitch.

"Go," Harry said. He didn't sound angry, just tired. Sad. Hurt. "This is only going to lead to a fight, and I really don't want to fight with you right now."

Weren't they already fighting? Draco remained where he was, dumbfounded. Harry couldn't be serious.

"Please," Harry said, voice wavering. "I've made enough of a fool of myself tonight as it is. Don't make it worse than you already have."

Draco stood and took a step forward. "Harry, please--"

"Just go!" Harry said, nearly shouting. He wiped at his face with the heels of his hands. "Please."

Draco swallowed and nodded, backing towards the fireplace. There must be something he could say right now that would fix everything. There was always something. Why couldn't he think of anything?

"Maybe… I'll call you tomorrow," Harry said, still not looking at him.

Draco's fingers were numb as they fumbled with the dish of floo powder. He didn't want to go. He wanted to stay right there, to march across the room and take Harry in his arms, knock some sense into him. He ought to do that.

But Harry's eyes met his at that moment, and they were hard, even cold. Draco felt his stomach drop. It was too late. He closed his eyes and stepped into the fireplace.

A moment later, he was standing in his own flat, shivering in the darkness. His hand hurt, and he realized he was still clenching his fist around the key Harry'd given him.

"Oh god," he said aloud, then covered his mouth with the other hand. He'd just been offered exactly what he wanted, but he'd been too afraid to take it -- and now it might be too late. A sob escaped the tightness in his throat as he sank to the floor.

The key hit the floor with a sharp sound and skittered across it, lost in the darkness.

Go to part 13

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From:

ias.livejournal.com

Result! I knew hitting reload would have a positive outcome eventually. Now off to read ;)

From:

gablesboarder.livejournal.com

Well, I'm a first time reviewer (teh shame!) but I've been following Left My Heart and Surrender The Grey since Chapter 7 LMH, so....

Anyway, I wanted to say, another excellent chapter. And I've been waiting all day for this! (I've been off ill, so this is pretty much the only thing I was looking forward to!).

Erm, yeah, Bye!

From:

Yes, I'm here for the porn.

FIC: Surrender the Grey (12/30)

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