Chapter 7
Harry jolted out of bed with a cry. He looked around frantically gasping with his wand in his hand, ready to find the intruder. He slowly realized that there was no one there. It had only been a dream. The taunts of the death eaters faded slowly into the background as well as the pain from several years before. It was replaced with a pounding headache. Harry looked at the clock and saw that it was only a few hours before he was supposed to meet Blaise. There was no time to go back to sleep, and even if there was, he didn’t want to brave the nightmares again.
He sighed and decided to get up. He stumbled to the bathroom in exhaustion. He hadn’t slept well the past two nights. Harry fought down the thought that it was because he had actually been sober the past two nights.
Both nights had been riddled with intense nightmares that he hadn’t had for a long time. He’d spent both nights reliving his horrific past and then waking up, only to fall back asleep where the memories had left off.
To make matters worse, both days he’d woken up with an intense headache. Yesterday, he’d laid on the couch all day, day-dreaming about Blaise and dealing with his headache. Then Darla had called in a rage that he hadn’t contacted her, and sent a car to his place. She also went on and on about some pictures that had been supposedly taken.
“Harry, it’s fine that you went on a date but you need to tell me these things so I can make sure that we don’t have any issues with publicity, you understand?” Darla screeched on the other side of the phone.
“Yes Darla,” Harry said, pinching the bridge of his nose. His temples were pounding.
“You’re lucky that you have me. I had these photos taken down immediately, so not many people should’ve seen them,” Darla explained proudly. Harry only hummed.
“Are you going to see him again?”
“I think so,” Harry said. Blaise had said he would owl, but it was still early in the day.
“Well, if you do, tell me first,” Darla instructed, “Now, the car will be at your place at nine tonight, be ready this time Harry.”
Darla had hung up without another word. Harry rolled over on the couch and squeezed his eyes shut to try to stifle his headache. He took a nap, but it didn’t improve much, and soon enough, it was almost time to leave. He had arranged coffee with Blaise the next day so he hoped he wouldn’t be out too late.
He got dressed and headed down to the car, grimacing at the lights when they pulled to the front of the club. He put on sunglasses before he left the car and ducked his head as he walked to the door.
Inside, he was greeted as usual by Kristine and Rob. He followed them to the table where he greeted Molly warmly and chugged his first drink. Tyler was nowhere to be found.
“Where were you last night?” Molly giggled into his ear.
“I was busy, sorry dear,” Harry apologized.
“It’s okay Har Har,” she laughed. Harry eyed her carefully.
“What did you take already?” he asked.
“Oh you know, the works,” she said lazily.
“Be careful Mol,” Harry said seriously. She was headed down a path that Harry wasn’t sure anyone could save her from. He felt bad that he might be encouraging her habits.
“You should lighten up Harryyyy,” Molly slid him a few pills under the table. Harry pocketed them for later, not quite ready to go all for it yet.
“There he is,” came a loud voice who sat down heavily next to him.
“Hi Tyler,” Harry said, scooting away a bit to make more room. Tyler only bridged the gap and swung an arm around him. Normally, they weren’t this touchy so early in the night. By the looks of Tyler’s flushed and sweaty face, he might have started his night a bit earlier than they normally did.
“I saw you were with someone else last night,” Tyler said, pulling Harry closer.
“Oh did you?” Harry asked.
“Darla the dearest, she sent me the pictures,” Tyler murmured into his ear, “Are you cheating on me?”
“I wasn’t aware we were together,” Harry said, very uncomfortable now. Tyler was holding him tightly.
“Well no of course not Harry, but you’re my boy,” Tyler drawled. Harry almost flinched at the words “my boy”, as they reminded him very much of someone else who he did not want to think about.
“I’m not,” Harry said warningly, much too sober to deal with Tyler’s clinginess like he normally did.
“Okay, sure Harry, sure,” Tyler mocked.
“Harry, let’s go dance,” Molly suggested, saving Harry from the argument that was brewing. Harry nodded and scooted out of the booth. He danced with Molly for a while, feeling more awkward than normal because he was barely buzzed. Eventually Molly found a new partner as normal, and Harry found himself dancing with a very tall man.
Harry decided he wasn’t really feeling it, his mind kept drifting to Blaise, and this man was grinding a little too sensually for Harry anyways. He tried to extricate himself, but the man had his hands clamped hard on his waist and hips.
“Excuse me,” Harry said, but the music was either too loud or the man chose to ignore him. Harry twisted uncomfortably, but the man would not let go. Harry wished he wasn’t wearing the magical suppression bracelets because he could just give the man a quick wandless stinging hex, and be out of this situation. He could feel his magic pushing at his wrists almost painfully as his annoyance slowly turned to panic. It was desperate to get out and help him, but the bracelets weren’t allowing it.
“Oi,” came a voice. Tyler’s voice had never been so welcome, and Harry let his face convey his extreme discomfort, “Hands off.”
“What are you going to do about it?” the man behind him asked, pulling Harry even closer. Harry knew this happened sometimes, but he was normally way too out of it to comprehend what was going on. Now though, he was fully aware, and terrified. Without his magic he was vulnerable.
“You don’t want to find out,” Tyler said, grabbing Harry’s wrist to try to pull him away. Harry let out a quiet whimper drowned out by the music because his wrists were sore already, and Tyler was gripping them hard.
“Try me,” the man behind him threatened.
“Ok.”was all Tyler said before he smashed his fist into the side of the man’s face. The man promptly dropped Harry, and Harry scrambled out of the way. He saw the bouncer’s running to interfere, and he kept his back to the wall.
Eventually, Tyler explained the situation, and the taller man was kicked out. Tyler sauntered over to Harry.
“Alright babe?” Tyler asked, leaning against the wall with his arm up above Harry’s head.
“Thank you for helping me,” Harry said, “I think I just want to go home tonight.”
“Yeah, we can do that,” Tyler said, taking his hand.
“No Tyler, I mean, I just want to go home tonight. By myself,” Harry cleared up.
“Harry, we always go home together,” Tyler complained.
Yeah, Harry thought, When I can barely walk.
“Please, I just don’t feel well.” That was true. His head and wrists were absolutely throbbing. His magic was still pulsing, begging to get out.
“Okay fine, go on then,” Tyler said and turned to stomp off. Harry made his way to the door and called his car. He used the back entrance to avoid any cameras.
By the time he got home, his wrists were searingly painful. He sat down on his bed to take them off. He took a deep breath as he undid the lock. He knew it was going to hurt when they came off. There was always a surge of magic that ripped itself out of his hands. Normally he took them off in the morning and it was just a little buzz. When he had been actively restricted from using his magic however, it was downright painful. Recently, it has been getting worse and worse. Harry stopped procrastinating and flipped off the bracelets. He was right. The pain was excruciating. He only lasted a few seconds before the world went dark.
Harry sighed and looked down at his wrists in the bathroom light. They were black and blue, almost all of the way up his forearms. He pulled a bruise salve out of the cabinet, and applied it gently, hissing when he pressed down too hard. He splashed his face with water to try to get rid of his bloodshot eyes. He wouldn’t use any magic until it was absolutely necessary, because it was going to be sore.
He went back to his room to survey the damage from the previous night. His magical burst had knocked over his shelves and his nightstand, and cracked his window. Honestly, not as bad as he had expected. He vowed to deal with the mess later.
He went out of his room and down to the dining room where he made himself a small amount of tea, and popped two pain pills. He knew they wouldn’t be quite enough. He debated calling Darla and asking for some stronger stuff, but then decided against it.
Soon enough he was feeling more like himself again, and went back to his room to shower and get ready for the date. After his shower he applied glamors clothes to hide his eyebags, and bruises that were slowly fading.
He chose blue jeans and a white t-shirt, along with his favorite black sunglasses. He combed his hair, which was past his ears now, but he liked it that way. He checked the time to see that he still had about a half an hour before he needed to meet Blaise.
He sent Darla a quick text to warn her about his date to try to avoid getting yelled at again, and then decided to head over early because he was too nervous to wait any longer.
Blaise was seated on a bench across from the coffee shop where he had agreed to meet Harry. He was early, because he always got up early, and he wanted to make sure that Harry wouldn’t have to wait when he got there.
He was wearing simple blue jeans and a dark red t-shirt today, trying to keep it casual but still look nice.
They had agreed to meet at a muggle shop again to try to stay more under the radar. Harry had apologized for any inconvenience in his letter several times, but Blaise didn’t mind. He liked getting out and seeing the muggle world, and he wasn’t going to complain about having to deal with Harry’s fame for a short amount of time when Harry had had to deal with it his entire life.
Blaise spotted Harry across the street 20 minutes before they had scheduled to meet. He grinned and stood to make his way over.
“Good morning,” he said. Harry jumped slightly and turned around.
“Oh, um, hello, I didn’t expect you here so early,” Harry said sheepishly.
“I could say the same for you, would you like to go inside?” Blaise offered. Harry nodded, and Blaise moved to open the door from him. Blaise kept his grin to himself as he noticed a faint blush on Harry’s cheeks at the gesture. It didn’t take much to fluster the smaller man, and Blaise wasn’t ashamed to admit to himself that he liked it.
They made their way to the counter to order, and once again Blaise insisted on paying. Harry put up a good fight, but Blaise simply handed his card over to the muggle salesperson, ignoring his protests. Blaise and Theo both had muggle credit cards because they often needed muggle ingredients, because they were much cheaper to find.
Blaise knew that Harry probably had a lot more money than him, but Blaise wasn’t poor either. His business made a good amount of money and he wanted to show Harry that he wasn’t in it for fame or the money. He wasn’t at all. The other man was enticing and interesting all on his own.
Once they had their coffee, they took a seat by the window.
“So how are you today Harry?” Blaise said.
“I’m good, how are you?” Harry replied. It was automatic. Blaise vowed to work on getting more authentic responses from him in the future.
“I’m well, I had a busy few days of finishing orders, but we’ve finished up most of it for the week so that’s good,” Blaise said.
“That’s good, how much time do you normally spend brewing a day?” Harry asked, leaning forward with interest.
“Oh, always two or three at least, on busy days it can be up to eight. A lot of the work comes from prepping ingredients, keeping records, or going shopping for our inventory as well,” Blaise explained, “If we don’t have a lot of work to do, we experiment with our own creations too.”
“That sounds interesting, has anything been successful lately?” Harry asked.
Blaise laughed, “Not too much no. Potions are hard to invent, I’ve not yet made one, but we are testing out a few things. Nothing concrete though.”
Harry nodded and sipped his coffee, “Reminds me of the Weasley twins inventing things for their joke shop that they always talked about.”
“Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes?”
“Yeah that’s it, you’ve heard of it?” Harry asked.
“Of course. They’re honestly a big competitor for us. Their potions are nothing to laugh at, and they do some commissions with our clients outside of their jokes and pranks, I admire them a lot,” Blaise said.
“I’m glad it worked out for them. I wasn’t sure if they’d been successful or not. I see their ads in the paper sometimes but that’s it,” Harry paused, “I gave them my triwizard tournament winnings to put towards their shop, so it's nice to hear that it was successful.”
“You gave them your prize money?” Blaise asked, “When you were fourteen?”
Blaise had to admit that he would not have given away a thousand galleons when he was fourteen, maybe not even now.
Harry nodded, “I didn’t really need it, and I really didn’t want it. I had just seen Cedric die and the money felt dirty. I wanted it to go towards something positive.”
Blaise watched as Harry’s face darkened while he talked about it.
“That must have been a really difficult time for you,” Blaise said quietly. Harry sighed.
“It was, though honestly, that whole year was horrible, and it didn’t get better for a long time,” Harry recalled, “Sometimes I wish I could go back and tell myself to just… run away I guess, never come back for my fourth year, or not try so hard to win.”
“Why did you?”
“Hm?”
Blaise cleared his throat before he clarified, “Why did you try so hard to win? You didn’t want to be in it in the first place.”
“Everyone thought I did, and they thought I was a stuck up arrogant brat who was going to get his arse kicked. I wanted to prove that I could do it, and that I wouldn’t let them get to me,” Harry explained.
“I never thought you wanted to be in it, anyone who looked at your face when your name was called could tell that you were shocked, and not in a good way,” Blaise remembered. He was being honest. It had always confused him when people would accuse Harry Potter of sticking his name in the goblet when it was so obvious that he didn’t.
“Well thank you I guess,” Harry laughed, “I wish more people had seen what you did. Not even my friends understood.”
“Do you still talk to them? The Weasley? And Granger?” Blaise asked.
“No,” Harry said, “It’s my fault I suppose. After everything happened I just couldn’t come back. I couldn’t talk about it. I couldn’t be the hero they needed. And then when I was better, it was just too late. Now, I’m sure they wouldn’t want to know someone like me.”
“Did they ever reach out?” Blaise asked.
“A few times, right after the- well, right after everything, but not since,” Harry explained, “It’s alright though, I hear they’re married with a daughter, and I’m happy for them.”
Blaise heard the genuineness in his voice, but he could see that Harry was wistful. He wished he could have been there with him, even if he wouldn’t admit it.
“What about you? Besides for Theo, who are you friends with from school?” Harry asked abruptly.
“Theo and I are probably the closest because we work together. I still see Pansy a lot. Millie too. I don’t see Draco much. I see Neville and Luna a lot of course. Seamus and Dean are around a lot too, I don’t know how you lived with them for four years though, they’re wild,” Blaise said fondly.
“They were then too,” Harry laughed, “I wish I had gotten to know more people while I was at school if I’m being honest.”
“It seemed like you knew everyone,” Blaise remarked.
“Everyone knew me, but I really was only friends with Ron and Hermione. I was really shy, and I was afraid people would use me for my name,” Harry explained, “And I knew the Quidditch team, they were always really good.”
“Do you still play?”
“No, I can’t remember the last time I flew, did you ever play?” Harry asked.
“I did it at home, I didn’t at school because I thought it would take up too much time,” Blaise explained, “I liked just flying more, not Quidditch so much.”
“That makes sense,” Harry nodded.
“Excuse me,” came a voice from their left, “Are you Harry Potter?”
There was a girl a bit younger than them standing next to their table. Harry looked around nervously. They were in a muggle place, so Blaise wondered how this girl knew him.
“Don’t worry, I’m not a muggle,” the girl whispered.
“Okay, well then yes,” Harry said with a wink. Blaise could see the mask that Harry had put on the second she had interrupted their conversation. This was the Harry from the magazines. The charismatic play boy that everyone wanted. It was completely different from how he had been several moments ago. Blaise wanted to tell the girl to go away but didn’t want to interrupt.
“Would I be able to get a picture?” the girl asked.
“How about an autograph instead?” Harry suggested, and then whispered, “I just don’t really want pictures of me in muggle areas, it's my little secret.”
“Oh I totally understand, here,” the girl pulled out a notepad and pen for him to sign, “I’ll keep this a secret too! I promise, I’m just your biggest fan!”
Harry smiled politely as he signed. “Here you go, have a wonderful day love.”
The girl giggled and left.
Harry turned back to Blaise.
“I am so sorry,” he said, turning red, mask gone.
“Hey it’s okay,” Blaise said, “It’s not your fault.”
Harry just shook his head, “It’s not okay, it’s rude, I’m sorry.”
“Seriously, it’s okay,” Blaise reassured, “You seem different, when people recognize you.”
Harry nodded, “I suppose I am. They’re expecting me to be this confident bloke, and it’s easier to do that than be myself.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of it?”
“It’s the way it is, it’s my job, so even if I do get tired of it, it doesn’t matter,” Harry shrugged. He then looked around Blaise to look at something over his shoulder.
“I am so sorry, but I think we’re going to need to leave,” Harry said. Blaise turned and saw a group of girls coming in to join the girl from earlier. They were all pointing and whispering in Harry’s direction.
“Guess she didn’t keep it a secret then,” Blaise muttered, feeling angry on Harry’s behalf.
“No, but let’s go quick,” Harry said standing and heading towards the door. They disposed of their mugs.
“Where should we go?” Blaise asked. Harry thought for a moment.
“This is going to seem forward, but do you want to come to my apartment? There’s no one there who will spot us and it’s only a few blocks away,” Harry suggested nervously.
“That would be fine,” Blaise nodded and followed Harry as he led the way, “You live in muggle London?”
“Yeah, easier to keep a low profile,” Harry said. Blaise nodded. Sure enough, within a few blocks, Harry turned and walked up the steps to an apartment building. Blaise kept himself from whistling at how fancy the lobby was.
They went to the lifts in silence. It wasn’t awkward, just comfortable. Harry led the way into his apartment.
“This is big,” Blaise remarked as they entered.
“I have my friends over sometimes and it gets crowded,” Harry said, “Do you need anything to drink?”
“I’m alright for now, thank you though,” Blaise answered, surveying the room some more. It was well lit and spacious, sunlight was streaming in the floor to ceiling penthouse windows. It felt… empty. Too big for Harry to just be living here on his own. There were no pictures of friends or family on the wall. No books, awards, or decorations other than the neutral pillows on the couches and one small brown centerpiece on the coffee table.
“You can sit on the sofa if you want to,” Harry offered, “Or anywhere really.”
Blaise took a seat on the end of one of the couches and scooted minimally closer to the middle when Harry took a seat on the other side.
“How long have you lived here?” Blaise asked, wondering if the minimalist decor was due to a recent move.
“Two years about,” Harry answered, “I don’t use this space very much, I normally am gone for work or I’m sleeping in my room.”
“Ah,” Blaise nodded, “You have a nice view.”
“Yeah it’s good, there’s a balcony off of my bedroom that’s nice,” Harry added.
“You know, Pansy’s gotten really into interior decorating, she’d probably love to check this place out,” Blaise remarked, “It’s so different from the wizard spaces she normally does.”
“Is she good?” Harry asked.
“Yeah, she did my place, that I share with Theo, but he’ll be moving out when they get married,” Blaise explained.
“Maybe I’ll have her do mine, I know it’s not the most homey,” Harry said sheepishly.
“She’d probably start by putting fuzzy blankets everywhere,” Blaise chuckled.
“Well I could do that,” Harry said, “What’s your favorite color?”
“Um, I don’t know, green?” Blaise said. And then wanted to hit himself because how much more obvious could he be. Harry nodded and then waved his hands, conjuring a dark green fuzzy blanket.
“Here,” he passed it over.
“What’s your favorite color?” Blaise asked.
“I don’t really have a favorite,” Harry paused, “When I was little I didn’t want to pick a favorite because all of the other colors would feel left out.”
Blaise threw his head back and laughed, “That’s adorable.”
“Well I don’t know,” Harry said, cheeks pink again.
“Well you need to make yourself a blanket now, so you need to pick,” Blaise said when he stopped laughing.
“Alright,” Harry conjured a bright Gryffindor red blanket.
“That’s a choice.” Blaise said slowly, not wanting to offend. This time Harry threw his head back and laughed, softer than Blaise had been. Blaise was mesmerized by the sight.
“It’s obnoxious I know,” Harry touched his hand to the blanket and it changed to a dark navy blue, “That’s better.”
“You know, wandless and wordless conjuring is insanely impressive,” Blaise remarked once they both stopped giggling. Harry shrugged. Blaise noticed he was massaging one of his wrists gently.
“I don’t know, I feel like most people just haven’t been taught like I was,” Harry said, looking away.
“Who taught you?”
“Nicholas Flamel.”
“That would do it,” Blaise nodded. He continued watching Harry’s hand massaging his wrist, “What’s on your arm?”
There was almost like a shadow on Harry’s forearm.
“Oh it’s nothing,” Harry said, putting his arms down.
“Are you sure? It almost looked like a bruise, are you hurt?” Blaise asked in concern.
“No, no, I’m fine,” Harry waved him off, “It’s just… sometimes I wear these magical suppression bracelets and sometimes they leave marks. It’s fine though, they always heal within a few hours.”
“Magical suppression bracelets? Why?” Blaise asked. Normally they were used on criminals or psychiatric patients who couldn’t control their magic.
“I have a lot of magic, and when I go into certain environments, I want to be sure that I don’t hurt anyone,” Harry explained, “I don’t wear them a lot. Only when I need to.”
“Are you using a bruise salve?” Blaise asked. Harry nodded. “What kind?”
Harry told him the brand name. Blaise shook his head.
“No no, can I see your wrist?” he asked gently. Harry hesitated and then nodded, “I’d like to think I make a much better bruise salve than that, but let me take a look, you applied this morning?”
Harry nodded and Blaise gently took his hand, scooting over to sit next to him. He looked at Harry’s arm. “Can you take off your glamor?” he asked, not wanting to demand anything, but needing to see it properly. Harry sighed and nodded, and then waved his hand over his arm.
Blaise prevented himself from sucking in a breath. The bruises were dark, and extensive. Harry must have been wearing one hell of a bracelet to cause this.
“Yeah, my salve could do better, I could send you some?” Blaise offered. Harry nodded again.
“Thank you, how much is it?” Harry asked.
“For you it's free,” Blaise said, “Are you sure the bracelets are safe?”
Harry nodded, “I made them myself.”
“Okay then,” Blaise said, still unsure if anything that caused that kind of bruising could be considered safe, “I can run home really quickly and grab you some salve?”
“Sure, it’s almost lunch time, do you want me to order takeout or something while you’re gone?” Harry offered.
“Sure, whatever you like is fine,” Blaise said, standing and going to the fireplace. He grabbed some floo powder, “See you in a few.”