Get Me From My Good Side (A Drarry FanFiction)

Chapter Four

   The article didn't run until a few weeks later, and if Harry was honest he'd forgotten all about it. He'd been given a particularly nasty case at work, his biggest so far, and had thrown everything he'd had at it in an effort not to mess it up. So he didn't immediately twig what the parcel could be when it landed with a thump amidst his leisurely Saturday morning breakfast, the first he'd enjoyed in days.

He ran his finger under the letter's seal and shook out the latest edition of Witch Weekly, along with a note from Lisa.

He should have guessed something was wrong when he saw the letter was quivering.

"Harry," it read in bright purple ink that was somehow more worrying than if it had been red. She saved the purple for when things went seriously awry. "I don't know how I can apologise enough. I can only say this is NOT the copy they showed me, and assure you that I would never have allowed them to print if they had. I tried to get them to disappear the run, but it had already been sent out, and that would make things even worse. I think it's best of we formulate a response as soon as possible, owl me as soon as you get this."

Horror was creeping through Harry's guts, his mind whirring as to what could have possibly have happened. As shoots went it had been pretty painless, not even half and hour, and they'd not asked him anything more than vague questions about his love life ("No, no one special right now.") How could that have gone so wrong?

He flipped hurriedly to the right page, and realised how stupid he'd been.

It was a thousand times worse than he could have imagined.

'The Boy Who Loved' the cheesy tagline screamed at him in pink as magical heart-shaped confetti flitted down the double-page spread. 'War hero Harry Potter claims not to have a special someone in his life, but Witch Weekly gets the pics that proves the truth!'

Harry thought he was going to be sick. There wasn't really an article as such, just a series of photographs that showed him. And Draco.

Draco washing his hair, Harry's eyes closed with a smile as Draco massaged his scalp, a fond look on his face that made Harry's stomach flip. Harry batting Draco playfully away as Draco straightened the collar of his jacket up. Them talking closely as the shoot was reset, Harry leaning happily over to let Draco fix his hair, the two of them cackling with laughter and Harry casually touching Draco's elbow as they moved away . And the worst, the worst, was the moment Harry had stolen a look at Draco as he'd worked with the actual photographer, the one who'd taken the pictures of him leaning casually against the bed post, hardly any of which had made it into the magazine.

Harry had remembered exactly when he'd chanced that look, had let his heart ache a little for Draco in a way he rarely ever did, knowing he was probably a fool for thinking their harmless flirting meant anything more. And yet here it was, for the whole of Great Britain to see, playing over and over as picture Harry glanced at his stylist and let a small, hopeful smile tug at his lips.

He was mortified, he was horrified, he didn't know whether to scream or cry or break something. But first thing was first, he had to work on damage control.

First, he snatched up some parchment and hastily scribbled a note to Lisa. "Will be over soon. In the meantime, eviscerate them."

He tied it to her patient owl's foot and sent the bird off. Then he grabbed his coat and ran outside, taking a couple of deep breaths to try and calm himself, but it was difficult with the offending magazine rolled up and crushed in his fist. This was okay, he could just explain how pictures can be manipulated to tell a different story, Draco would understand, he worked in the media.

Harry still felt faint with shame and nausea as he turned and apparated on the spot, popping up outside Draco's building. Luckily someone was just coming out, so Harry quickly darted forwards and caught the door before it could lock behind the other resident, and gave them a sheepish thanks, not bothering to stick around and explain why he was running in without keys.

He'd been to Draco's flat a few times when he'd needed appointments before events where there weren't the facilities on site, so he knew where he was going. But he was wracked with nerves as he reached the correct floor. How many times had he imagined doing this socially, meeting up with Draco for drinks or dinner or...

He cleared his throat as he reached Draco's door and steeled himself. He felt awful, but it wasn't his fault, he had to remember that. They were both the victims here, he had to remember that.

Except he really did have the biggest crush on Draco if he was forced to admit it, any idiot looking at those photos could see that.

He sighed and knocked firmly. There was no sense in hiding from this any longer.