A week and a half had gone by since Isabella told her friends and her brother not to speak to her. All had tried but she either slammed her bedroom door on their faces or walked away without saying a word. She had almost broken down and threw herself into Hermione's arms when she saw the tears in the other girls eyes. She didn’t know why she just couldn’t forgive, she was never one to hold a grudge. And maybe they were right, maybe she had been imagining her mother and her father.
The more she thought about what she saw that night, the more convinced she was that it was real. She had spent countless hours up in the attic while everyone was at work or out looking for clues. So far all she had was the broken glass, that still lay shattered on the attic floor, and a small torn piece of cloak. Of course she couldn’t prove that the scrap of fabric wasn’t there before, but she knew in her heart of hearts she wasn’t crazy.
She now sat on a stool in a softly lit room, hair and make up artists were making sure she looked flawless. She was in a flowing black ball gown, ready to do a photo shoot in it. She had signed a lucrative deal with BMG London, a clothing company that was the equivalent to the Muggles Gucci or Prada. Since wizards photos were motion, the theme of this shoot was to have Isabella on the stool, a light breeze blowing her hair, and have her slowly raise her piercing blue eyes up to the camera.
“Beautiful...beautiful. Stunning as always,” Dundas the photographer said as he walked onto set, his camera in his hands.
Isabella smiled. “Thank you.”
He spoke rapidly to his crew who adjusted the lighting, magically of course, set up the camera for the perfect angles, and lastly spoke to Izzy about what he was trying to accomplish. They were finally ready to start shooting. There was the usual dramas and naturally Dundas complained that she wasn’t hitting the facial expressions right. Finally after being at the studio from dawn till dusk, Isabella was able to go home.
When Isabella arrived home she was greeted by the smell of something incredibly delicious wafting up from the basement kitchen. Her stomach growled as she pulled off her shoes and hung up her coat on the coat rack. Yes, she had to watch her diet because of her job, but living off veggies for a whole day was a little ridiculous. She was starving.
She quickly jogged down the stairs and into the kitchen. She wasn’t surprised or alarmed when she saw the whole lot of #12 Grimmauld Place’s current residents gathered around the table. She also wasn’t surprised when everyone but Draco averted their eyes and acted like their meals were the most interesting things they had ever seen.
Dobby looked up from the stove and blinked his huge eyes, his small mouth in a large grin. “Welcome home. Let Dobby get you a plate ready,” he squeaked.
Izzy smiled and walked over to him and the laid a kiss on his forehead. “Bless you, Dobby.”
He let out a giggle or sorts and she smiled at Draco as she sat next to him. At her request Draco had been staying with her in her room rather than returning to the Malfoy Mansion. Of course what no one new is that he was sleeping on the couch and she had no intentions of telling otherwise. They were entitled to think what they pleased, and frankly what her and Draco did or didn’t do was none of their business.
“How was it?” he asked as he poured her a goblet full of Butterbeer and Dobby placed a plate full of chicken, potatoes and mixed veggies in front of her.
“The usual. Everything starts out great, but then the photographer gets his knickers in a twist, only to have another mood swing and tell you how wonderful you are after the shoot is over.”
“That doesn’t sound challenging. Having people tell you how great and beautiful you are all day,” Trisha piped up, her hand resting on Harry’s shoulder and her fingers teasing the back of his neck. If Izzy didn’t know better, she’d say he looked rather uncomfortable.
“You’d think that, right?” she asked. “It is tiring, not so much being told you’re beautiful, but rather the twelve hour days and the mad rush of trying to get things perfect. It takes a certain type not to crack under the pressure. Don‘t worry love, there isn‘t too many of us around,” Izzy’s eyes bore into Trisha’s.
Trisha narrowed her eyes at Will as he stifled a giggle. Isabella glanced over at him and he shot her a small smile, which she returned. If one thing could ever bring them back together, it was their utter dislike for her perky blonde hanging off Harry. The rest of the meal was finished in silence. The table was cleared off in silence, and then with even more silence Ron, Hermione and Will left the kitchen.
This now left Draco, Harry, Trisha and Isabella alone. Izzy stood up from her chair to help Dobby with dishes, while Harry challenged Draco to a match of Wizard’s Chess. Isabella was just about to pick up a dish to dry it when a hand reached out and grabbed the towel away from her.
“No, no, no! This is Dobby’s job, not Mistress Isabella’s job,” the house elf spoke, tucking the dish towel into the waist of his trousers.
“I just want to help...” she trailed off in a small voice.
“He’s right. That’s what you hired him for,” Draco spoke up, he still had a bit of ill will towards Dobby, stemming back to when he found out Harry had Dobby follow him in 6th year. “Go on... run yourself a hot bath and get ready for bed. I’ll be up in a bit.”
“Don’t let Hermione hear you say that,” she smiled as she headed out of the kitchen and upstairs to her bedroom. Even after all these years Hermione was still passionate about SPEW.
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Draco sat across the table from Harry, staring down at the Wizard Chess table, trying to strategize his next move, trying to figure out where it would hurt Harry the most. It wasn’t so much that he actually wished harm upon Harry, he had gotten over his hatred years ago, but it’s just that Draco Malfoy liked to win.
He could feel the other man’s green eyes burning into his forehead. He doubted very much that the glaring was just about the game of Wizard Chess that Harry was currently losing. No, he knew it was about much more, namely the brunette who was now upstairs naked in a bath tub and the fact that Draco would be joined her soon. He had to suppress a smile.
“Draco?”
“Hmmm? What?” he asked, finally looking up.
“You going to make a move before dawn?” Harry asked.
Draco nodded as he glanced at Trisha. She was blinking at Harry, obviously upset over the fact that she wasn’t the center of attention. He made a move, one of his pawns destroying one of Harry’s. He heard Harry swear under his breath. He glanced over at Trisha who sighed loudly and stood up.
“I’m going to bed,” she announced, leaning down so Harry could kiss her.
Draco muttered good night and then he heard the kitchen door slam behind her. His eyes drifted back to Harry and he raised his eyebrows.
“Don’t even say anything,” Harry said firmly.
“Wasn’t going to. Though it is evident that there is trouble in paradise.”
“She’s just... you know what? I’m not going to go there,” Harry muttered as he moved another chess piece.
“Good idea, mate,” Draco said, quickly making another move.
“Can I ask you something?” Harry glanced up, his cheeks reddening a little as he shifted uncomfortable in his seat.
“It’s about Isabella.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. Draco knew damn well what Harry wanted to talk about.
“How did you...” Harry trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, yeah, it is about her. What’s going on between you?” he asked bluntly, his eyes locked on Draco.
“What do you mean?” Draco replied coolly. He wasn’t about to give up anything just yet, not until he got the answers he wanted.
“Don’t play glib with me, you son of a bitch,” the anger in Harry’s voice was apparent and seemed to burst out of him.
“Whoa... a little worked up aren’t we, Potter? If you must know I like her. A lot.”
“That’s such bullshit. You can’t be content with just one girl. You choose your targets, you woo them, you fuck them, then you dump them. I saw you do it in Hogwart’s and I’ve watched you and William do it during Isabella’s absence.”
“You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I use women for my own person satisfaction. And you’re right. I find targets. The harder for me to get the better. But I’ve changed. Seeing her again... put things in perspective for me. She makes me want to be good, be loyal and faithful. You know that feeling when you’d do anything for that one special person in your life? That’s how she makes me feel,” he turned on all the sap he could muster.
To tell the truth, he wasn’t sure how he felt about Isabella. He knew he really cared about her and what happened to her. Some days he felt like he wanted a monogamous relationship with her. Other days he felt like she was just another conquest. She would be the number one prize on his trophy wall so to speak. He had to conceal another smirk and he diverted his eyes, Harry’s stare making him uncomfortable.
“Wow... you should win an award for your acting,” Harry snorted. “You do know who you’re talking to, right? I know how you work. And let me make one thing damn clear to you,” he leaned in a little, his jaw clenched tightly, “if you touch her, and I know you haven’t yet, I will break your fingers. You hurt her and I will hurt you in ways even you can’t imagine. Understand?”
This time Draco wouldn’t help but smirk. “Someone is still carrying a torch for his ex-girlfriend. Does Trisha know? You’d think she’d figure it out. She’s a smart girl and she’s not blind. Despite how mad Izzy makes you, you still look at her the same way you did two and three years ago. You don’t fall out of love with someone like her.”
Harry clenched his fists and then stood up. He said nothing as he stormed out of the room, his foot steps pounding on the stairs as he ran up them.
“Round one goes to Draco,” Draco muttered to himself, the smirk still on his face.
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He didn’t know how it had happened, but Harry had found himself on the fourth floor of the house and in front of the door to Isabella’s room. He was still raging inside, his hands shaking with anger. Who the hell did Draco think he was? Accusing him of still having feelings for Isabella. She had been the one who had walked out on him. He felt nothing for her anymore, at least that’s what he told himself.
Without knocking on the door he barged in to see her sitting on her bed in just a towel, damp hair hanging loosely around her shoulders and framing her face. She was smoothing lotion on her legs. He felt like he had been slapped in the face. She was much more than he remembered, and deep down he didn’t know how much longer he could go on lying to himself and Trisha.
“You finally made it,” she said, not looking up. “I’ve got so much to tell you. It’s amazing what you learn at these shoots...” her eyes drifted up and then narrowed. “You’re not Draco.”
“Thank Merlin,” Harry retorted, unable to help himself.
She pulled the towel around her tighter, and then looked around for her robe. When she did find it, she was fumbling with it so badly she dropped it twice and it ended up in one big, mixed up, twisted mess. Harry couldn’t watch her struggle anymore, so he stepped forward and took the robe from her.
“Here... let me try,” he said softly, all the rage and anger leaving his body as soon as his fingers brushed hers. The warmth of her skin was almost too much for him to handle, so he forced himself to focus on the robe as he straightened it out and then held it up for her to slip into. He could see her tense as he brought it over her arms and shoulders, but as his hands slid back up to her shoulders she let a rush of air escape her lungs.
“Why are you here,” she whispered, leaning back into him a little.
He closed his eyes, not thinking anymore. His hands massaged her shoulders, and he brought his lips in close to her ear, his lips brushing against it. He could hear the small gasp that escaped her mouth. She reached up, and from behind ran her fingers through his hair.
“I needed to see you,” he whispered back. “It’s about Draco,” he said. He instantly regretted saying anything. She pulled away from him and turned to face him.
“What about him?” she demanded. “You’re probably going to warn me not to get involved with him, that he’s bad news and is just going to end up using me. Right?”
“Yes. I just spoke to him. It’s written all over his face, Izzy. He doesn’t care about you the way I...” he broke off, his words getting caught in a big ball in his throat.
“Listen, I gave up the right to meddle in your relationships when I walked out two years ago. Notice how I haven’t said anything about your precious Trisha?” she asked, venom seeping in her voice as she said the girls name. “And now I want you to do the same. Stay out of my relationships.”
“Can’t. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”
She closed her eyes tightly, tears running down her cheeks. She opened them again and looked at him. “Why are you doing this to me?” she asked. “I need to move on with my life, to love again.”
“Not with him,” he pleaded with her.
“Do you remember when we got together nearly four years ago, what I gave you of mine?” she asked.
He nodded. “Of course.”
“Well, four years ago I gave you my heart, Harry. Now I need it back.”
The words stung him. “I’m not sure I can give it back.”
“What do you mean?” Confusion was written all over her face.
“Izzy, I still love you.” Harry had finally admitted the truth and the weight left his shoulders.
House of Leaves by elegantlytwisted
Chapter Notes: Sorry for the long delay. I had so many ideas for this chapter, but no idea how to put them out there. That being said, I'm very happy with the way it turned out. So enjoy! Review! And thanks for the support.