Take The Damn Shot!

8. Being Spiteful

The rest of the week had been brutal with so many photo shoots, that by the end of Friday, Harry was exhausted. Promising himself that he was going to sleep his weekend away, he said his goodbyes to the staff and headed home. After receiving yet another schedule from Blaise that he said he would look at later, because all he wanted to do right now was pass out.

Draco had still shown his irritation the whole week, and Blaise had told Harry that he had put it down to the magazine hitting the shelves next week, and Draco was just nervous. Yes it was Harry's body on the cover, but it was Draco's name that was associated with it. And Draco Malfoy hated failure. He really wanted this first edition to be a success. Harry told him it would be, and if it wasn't then he would step back. Give them time to find a better model.

To which Blaise just burst out laughing, telling him that there was no one better. Pansy had told Harry to enjoy his weekend, and that a car would be picking him up on Monday morning, and to have a good rest, he had earned it. He waved at her in agreement, and when he arrived home, he saw that there was a letter on his kitchen table.

Choosing to ignore it, he went straight to his room and collapsed on his bed. Letters could wait, in fact the whole outside world could wait, he was going to catch up on some much needed sleep.

Harry woke up at 7am the next morning, his whole routine totally out of whack. He had gone to bed shortly before 7pm the previous night, and when he opened his eyes, he felt refreshed. But, not one to shun his duties, he went for his morning jog anyway. It wouldn't do well if he became fat and lazy after just one week of work. And the work wasn't even physical.

The weekend passed by slowly with Hermoine coming to visit on Saturday night, and had them watching a movie together. She rose up after the movie and went to the kitchen to make them each a cup of tea. She noticed the letter on the table, and asked what it said.

"Shit. I was so tired last night, I completely forgot about it", he said reaching out to take it from her and rip it open. When he did, he heard her gasp.

"What's wrong?", he asked.

She looked at him and pointed, "That's Ron's handwriting", she stated, looking at him with worry. Harry wondered if he should read it then. He really had no time to deal with the man anymore, and in a sense, he had already written him off.

"You think I should read it?", he asked. She shrugged and said it was his choice. He thought about it, and didn't really want to. If Ron was apologizing, he didn't want to hear it. If Ron was being ugly and abusive, he had no desire to hear that either. But if someone was hurt, Harry would never forgive himself. He opened the letter and read it, his eyes watering at the words that were in front of him.

"Harry, what is it?", asked his friend.

He handed her the note and watched her reaction. She also began to get tears in her eyes, but then her anger came through in full force, and she was fed up. Sick and tired of what made the red headed idiot tick. She dropped the note and said, "Harry, you know that doesn't matter right? It will never matter", she said giving him a hug.

He accepted her hug and together they rocked their bodies from side to side inside his kitchen, Harry angry at himself for reading it. The note was cruel, and even though the world and Harry himself had accepted it, it seemed that there were some who never would.

'Harry'
Was the reason you never slept with my sister because you prefer cock?

It seemed that Ronald Weasley was still harping on about their break up, and refused to believe that he had a hand in it. But why now. Why after a year? "He's being spiteful Harry", said his friend. Hermoine said that she would find out everything she could without actually talking to Ron, and let Harry know. He wasn't bothered, he said. The less he knew about and heard from the Weasleys, the better.

She left soon after, while Harry burnt the note and again reinforced his wards. He cast a spell, that would make any letter, note or parcel, that the Weasleys sent, burst into flames. That way, they would never have a place in his home ever again. His heart was broken at the way that he had been used, but he knew it would happen again and again. And he couldn't afford to keep losing a bit of his soul every time, because of it.

Monday morning came around sooner than ever, and Harry was back to his normal routine. Opting not to go for a jog this morning, he ran on his treadmill, and had a hot shower when he was done. He got dressed in a casual tracksuit, that fit his body perfectly, put on a beanie to cover his messed up hair and waited for his car to arrive.

When it did, he climbed inside and saw that Draco was also sitting in the backseat. He greeted the man with a small smile, "Morning Draco", and closed the door. Draco could see that there was something bothering the hero, but wasn't going to ask about it. He wasn't here to be a nice guy or to play therapist.

"Potter", said Draco with a raised chin. He turned his head towards the window and looked out at the passing cars and buildings. Absolute silence - and it made Harry uncomfortable. Now was the perfect time to ask if he had done something wrong. Hermoine had said to let his feelers out, so that's what he was going to do. Pushing his own annoyance to the back of his head, he turned in his seat.

"Have I done something to offend you Draco?", he asked in that deep voice of his. The deep voice that had Draco break out in a sweat, because sweet fucking Merlin, it was hot! He looked at the savior, and thought that he looked quite cute in his beanie. Men like Potter are not cute!, he chastised himself. Hot, gorgeous, sexy and totally fuckable, but not cute.

"No", he simply said. That's all Harry was going to get it seemed, but he wasn't giving up that easy.

"Are you sure, because you seem annoyed whenever I'm in the same space as you are", he asked again.

"I said no Potter - are you deaf!?", he snapped, and ignoring his companion, took out his mobile to make a phone call, telling the office that they were almost there. Between himself, Blaise and Draco it had been agreed that he would be in the car this morning when they picked Potter up from his house, and now Draco was regretting ever agreeing to it.

Harry turned towards his own window. What was the point in trying to find out what Draco's deal was if the man wouldn't even talk to him. Jealousy my arse! The man hates me with a passion. 'He probably thinks I got this job because of my name. But I work for Frank Zabini, not Draco Malfoy', were the thoughts going through Harry's mind.

Apparently there was no time for feelings in this business, and Harry would do well to remember that. He put his own feelings aside and tried to focus on the business side of things. He had to work with Draco every day of his life, but if the man made his life miserable, he would either request another photographer or resign. Whichever - and made the final decision that he would only speak to him, if and when he was spoken to.