Chapter Text
When Harry comes home to his apartment sounding of his fiance’s moans of pleasure, he thought he was going to walk into a sexy scene where, sure Ginny was getting off without him but, he’d interrupt like a cheesy porno and they’d, well, you know.
However when he cracks open the door of their bedroom, all he sees is the thrusting arse end of another man plowing his bride-to-be. No, wait, the way they’re wrapped around each other… the way Ginny’s hands tug the man down into a kiss that pulls the most passionate sound Harry’s never heard from her…
This isn’t the first time and it’s clearly something more than a random hookup.
Bitterness swamps Harry’s throat. A million thoughts and questions race through his mind but right now it all just sounds like ‘oh my fucking god’.
When he realizes that he’s been standing horrified at the door for too long like some sort of creep, he then becomes overwhelmed by the desire to get as far away from here, from Ginny, as possible. So he slips his shoes back on and literally books it out of the building, impulsively slamming the apartment door behind him. No hiding that they’re found out now.
Outside, the sunset falls behind the city skyline as the world continues to play on without a thought to Harry’s world cracking into pieces. The encroaching shadows of the evening draw him away from the reddening sun. Harry walks on and on.
His phone has rung a few times since he left, first with Ginny’s name, then from Ron. He answers neither. Harry puts his cell on silent and stops checking it.
The ache in his heels eventually pleads loud enough for Harry to break. Neon lights from a convenience store display promise just the thing a worn out lad needs: a smoke.
A couple minutes later and he’s perched on the curb of the shop lighting his cig in cupped hands. He figures he might as well complete the bum look and pulls up the hood of his jumper.
The trek to get to- wherever the fuck Harry ended up- had cooled down his anger and now he felt like a sad piece of shit on the side of the road. How long had Ginny been cheating on him? Who was she repeatedly having sex with in the bed that was supposed to be a monument to her relationship with Harry? A bed that they bought together in a room they decorated together in an apartment they lived in together. How could she do this to him? Ginny was so straightforward and just. What had Harry done to make her reach this point?
That last thought was all it took for the tears beading at the edge of Harry’s eyes to streak down his face. They fell pathetically from the tip of his nose as he leaned down to snuff the butt of the old cigarette and light a new one.
“Oi, can I bum one off you?”
It’s plain embarrassing to be crying in public so Harry tries to hide his tear-stained face and clear his throat before shaking one out the box, “sure, mate. Need a light?”
“No, thanks.”
Harry was expecting that to be the end of the interaction so he could get back to his wallowing but the stranger surprises him when he crouches a lanky form to sit on the curb a little too close to Harry.
“Excuse me?” Harry asks pointedly, who does this guy think he is?
Pale hands whip out a black lighter, “hm?”
“You’re kind of in my business here, mate.”
A snort, “What fucking business? You make money off moping?”
“I’m saying this curb is occupied and you should go find another one not near me.”
Silence, like the man is thinking it over, “No, I quite like this one. It has a good smell.”
“What?” That confuses Harry enough that it shocks him out of his melancholy and he turns to give the stranger a look that surely shows it.
It’s the first real look he’s given the man and Harry is almost taken aback again at the man’s outfit. Engraved leather loafers poke out from black, flared corduroy pants latched on with a silver jeweled belt. A leather jacket hides the bulk of the man’s form and the lit cig against his lips makes him look way cooler smoking right now than Harry does.
“Yes, the smell.” he replies as if it’s the obvious answer.
“The smell of what exactly? Sidewalk and sweat?”
“Why, the smell of tears of course.” pink lips smirk at Harry who scoffs in offense and looks away.
“What a pervert…”
Deep laughter dances freely on the warm summer air. “Yes, something like that I suppose.”
They lapse into calm silence only broken by Harry’s quiet sniffles and the blow of cars passing down the narrow street. The stranger boldly flips one off when it drives too close to their pity party.
“So, like, why are you sad?”
“That’s so considerate of you.”
“Believe me, you don’t even know the half of it,” the man sneers, “answer the fucking question.”
On a normal night, Harry probably would have run away very quickly if some guy asked him to share cigarettes and sob stories as if they were close friends. But tonight is not a normal night.
“Ginny- my fiance is- well, she’s cheating on me.” It was weird to say out loud as he’s barely come to terms with it himself.
The stranger blows out a conciliatory puff of air, “how’d you find her out?”
“I walked in on them having sex in our bed.”
The dark haired man inappropriately cackles at this and oddly enough, Harry finds himself almost chuckling along. “Oh shove off, it’s tragic is what it is.”
“What’s tragic is that you never suspected a thing before tonight, did you?”
Any lightness Harry had felt left in the wake of his heavy mourning. “No, I thought we were gonna get married.”
“Plenty of people say that and think that marriage will solve all their relationship problems.”
“This wasn’t like that,” Harry says defensively, “we’re genuinely in love and want to share our lives together and that’s what matters-” The sound of Ginny’s haunting moans ring in his ears, “-at least it did, before.”
“You think you’re gonna stay together after this?” the man asks, leaning back on his hands on the damp pavement.
“I dunno,” Harry flicks idly at his cigarette, “I dunno what to think. I just wish it hadn’t happened.”
“The cheating or you finding out?”
“I dunno. Neither.”
It’s fully dark out by now and the few stars that can be seen through the light pollution wink at them from behind passing clouds. Where is Harry going to go tonight? It’s not like he can go to Ron’s, there’s a good chance Ginny would be there or he’d want to talk about them. He wishes that Hermione were still near but she’s been up north with her boyfriend for months now. Best check into a hotel and maybe he’ll be capable of critical thought in the morning.
“I ought to get going,” Harry says, climbing to his feet and shaking the static out of his legs, “can’t sleep on the curb.”
The man looks up at Harry with what he’d describe as an angry puppy dog expression, “Where are you going?”
“To find a hotel or something. I wanna stain my smelly tears on sheets I don’t personally have to wash.”
“Well, what’s your name?” the man asks, standing up off the curb to a full, lanky height.
“Harry.” he sticks out his hand to shake.
“Tom.” Cold hands grasp his,”now come along, Harry, the night has just begun and we’re altogether too young and beautiful to be this sad and cold.”
“It’s gotta be like 25 degrees.”
“Exactly my point. Now how do you feel about- consider this, instead of decimating the minibar of some spot with a too-big bed, you come with me and we decimate an actual bar and act like nothing in this stupid city matters to us.”
Harry pulls his hand back in reluctance, running off with a stranger is like the number one way people get murdered, right? “We literally just met, why would I go anywhere with you?”
“Who gives a shit about that? Just think about how good it would feel to say ‘fuck you’ to this-” vague hand wave “-grief muck that’s got you. Saying ‘fuck you Jenny, you’re not allowed to get off on my pain’”
“Her name’s Ginny.”
“Come with me and we’ll go find you a Jenny then.”
“And do to Ginny what she did to me?”
Tom rolls his eyes in a petulant gesture, “We can table that and focus on getting sloshed.”
It was stupid, the kind of recklessness his friends always chided him for, not thinking about the consequences of his actions beyond the moment. The kind of rushing in that Ginny always said was his most immature trait.