Chapter Thirteen

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"Someone will love you - but someone isn't me.."


In the later hours of the morning, Draco had headed into the heart of Paris with his mum to a few of her favorite muggle spots as she tried to help him take his mind off of a certain ravenette. There was a flower shop, a bakery, a clothing store, book store and a candle shop that she had brought Draco to.

"Oh Draco, aren't these roses lovely?" Narcissa had exclaimed. Draco had nodded quietly, thinking about when Harry proposed.

"Honey! Look at these red dress shoes!" Narcissa had said when they were in her favorite muggle clothing store. Draco could only think of his favorite shirt Harry owner - Gryffindor red and gold. He couldn't think of anything else. Granted, all these places intrigued him, but as went by certain items like the roses or red dress shoes, it was hard to think of anything else but him. Surely, Harry was fine without him. He had to be.

Wrong.

Harry was pacing the flat, Ron quietly eating cereal in the kitchen as he watched Harry pace.

Back and forth. Left to right. Right to left.

"You'll ruin the flooring if you keep doing that." Ron said with a mouthful of food. Harry scowled at him before he sat down on the sofa, curling up into a fetal position as he sighed heavily. He stared at the floor of the living room, thinking about what he had been since the earlier morning hours. He didn't know what to do. What he could say to make things better, or if he could even do that. Harry looked down at his left hand, the silver band of an engagement ring catching light that came through one of the living area windows. He had left it on the sofa after he ran outside the flat, wishing, praying that Draco hadn't really left. He put the ring on when Ron had placed it on his nightstand, wanting to keep it safe in case Draco came back soon and Harry hoped that it would be the next few hours or the next day. He didn't care which, just as long as he came back.

Harry knew it was irrational to blame Draco but even though he was The-Boy-Who-Lived, he doubted that Carrow would've done what he did if

A. He wasn't friends with Lucius, and Draco wasn't Lucius' son who just so happened to be dating him.

Or B. If Harry has always hated Draco and if Draco had truly became a Death Eater.

At the end of the day, it all fell back to Draco. As much as Harry hated it. He had made Ron promise not to tell Hermione Draco had left, not that Ron ever told Hermione anything to begin with. Harry knew if she knew, she'd get involved and he felt as though this was something he needed to fix on his own. After all, it's his fiancé. Or was.. he wasn't sure where they stood now. Moving the band on his finger around slightly, he watched as Ron cleaned up after himself in the kitchen before he sat himself down on the loveseat, looking over at Harry.

"What are you going to do?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know.. I don't know if I should go there."

Ron shook his head. "I wouldn't. Give him a day, let him retain it all first, then do whatever you decide."

Harry had explained everything to Ron. Everything. From Carrow to what he said to Draco. Ron sympathized, frowned and sighed as Harry spoke to him in the late hours of the evening. Ron felt terrible because in his eyes, he hadn't been there when his best friend needed him. He didn't know what happened with Carrow nor did he know what was going on with Draco and felt his own lack of observance came to a large fault of his own this time around. Even though Ron knew Harry was a brave person - for Merlin's sake, he was Head Auror! - he also knew that no matter how brave he may be, and no matter how well Harry could handle himself, Ron didn't doubt for one minute that he was slowing edging off the brink of a breakdown.

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