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Punk ain't dead (and love isn't either)

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Draco absentmindedly cleaned the glass , rubbing off the stains. He thought to himself how he got here. It'd been a terribly long journey but he he was satisfied with what he had made of his life. Leaving the wizarding world was probably the best decision he'd ever made. He no longer got terrorised for his dark mark - the muggles thought it was some sort of thing called a tattoo. Not that he didn't know what those were; actually his left hip and chest was covered with them. He was told it'd hurt, had no idea what he was in for, but he got through and was fully happy with the results, and what other tattoo could he have possibly got other than a dragon? He loved muggle fashion as well. He got himself piercings all over his right ear, his nose and his lips. Dear Merlin, if his father saw him now with dark blue tips on his hair , he'd have died of pure shock - not that there's anything wrong with that , Draco thought.

It's not like he could've stayed in the wizarding world even if he wanted to. People would make attempts on his life wherever he went. And NOBODY would ever employ a former-death eater. So yes , Draco was happy with his decision.

He got himself a job, started researching muggle things he should know and made friends who had never, or would never for that matter, find out about You-Know-Who,the war, or his past.

And he enjoyed his life like that , it was simple and he loved it. He loved every minute of every day because he could convince other people he was normal and they wouldn't assume otherwise. Why would they? He seemed like a nice enough bloke. He lived life as a muggle with his boyfriend.

The bar he worked in now was a good place, a fun one. It was an establishment for men who like other men, a sort of club with loud music and shrewd alcohol, just like any other. He'd found his own boyfriend there, as a matter of fact - Steve. They were utterly in love. He imagined himself and Steve in pure domestic bliss and he let his thoughts wander. Maybe one day, he'd actually be married and have children with this man , who always treated him right.

They’d met when one night Steve had decided to come along with his friends to get drunk and when he went to the bar to order drinks for them all , he and Draco had just hit it off. There was some flirting and when Steve was going home , he asked for Draco’s number and Draco gave it to him. They went on dates and become an incredibly sappy couple. Steve was from a well off family, quite well off actually. An heir to his parents fortune , “a posh man “ like Draco was , before the war. His father would approve , if he were a pure blood and a woman. Not that Draco cared , he hastily reminded himself.
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"Hello, I'll have a whiskey on the rocks, please." Draco heard a deep voice that rattled him out of his thoughts, one that Draco had never expected to hear again.

It was Harry freaking Potter.

Of course , Draco thought. Who else? He was happy and the universe couldn’t handle it. That twat had to find his way to one out of the only two places Draco ever went.

And from what Draco could tell, Harry didn't realize it was him and Draco would much rather is be that way, so he kept his head low.They had not been good friends after the war, and certainly not before, although the war certainly made them stop trying to set the other on fire, they weren’t good friends. The most “friendly” they’d been to each other after the war was because it was mandatory in their eight year. They’d both saved the others lives , so they couldn’t go insulting the other as the had before and their friend circles had become uncomfortably too close for them during eight year. Draco suspected it was the “Inter-House Unity ” speech headmistress McGonagall had given.

" Sure." Draco said extremely upset, and at this moment was suddenly extremely grateful for his drastic change in appearance. He quickly prepared the drink and set it hasitily on the bar.

"Do I know you?" Potter asked, but Draco thought about telling him but quickly discarded the thought and decided it was better to stay as far away from any witch or wizard as possible, even the bloody saviour himself. ESPECIALLY the saviour.

He’d disappeared from the Wizarding world , sure not to leave any trace behind. Potter and everyone else thought he was dead - probably killed. It was extremely believable and Draco knew that if potter found out , he’d tell everyone.

This thought set his mind on fire , he couldn’t go back , not now. He’d made his own life , it was terribly difficult but much better then getting hexed or jinxed whenever he told someone he was a Malfoy. He decided to leave , run if he could. He almost escaped when-

"Hey! Where are you going? I haven't paid you yet!" Damn that Potter. Plus , he just realised he couldn't escape even if Potter didn’t stop him. He was the only one there, except Katherine who was waiting on people. Nice girl, Draco thought. She was the first friend he’d made here.

"Oh, uh, yeah, sorry." he tried deepening his voice a little but decided that it sounded extremely idiotic and was never doing it again.

"I feel like I’ve met you before." Harry repeated, trying to get a better look of his bartender's face.

"You don't, trust me." Draco realised way too late that he'd said it too quickly and with a light desperation in his tone. He tried to leave again , maybe he’d find Katherine and tell her it was an emergency. But a hand gripped his forearm.

Draco obviously struggled a bit , but didn’t want to create a scene.

" Why are you so quick to deny it?" Potter asked, ever persistent.

To this , Draco couldn't help it, and it's not like he would have know that Potter would recognise him from a simple facial expression. But then again , he’d made a name for himself with Potter since this and scowling were basically the only expressions Potter saw him with for Seven years. Draco had sneered , and instantly regretted it.

Instant realization washed over Harry's face. Harry's hand that had gripped Draco when he was trying to escape suddenly retreated.

"Malfoy?!" Harry shouted, much too loud. The utter confusion and hostility became instantly visible " You're alive?! Also , what the fuck is up with your face?!"

" Leave me alone, Potter." He hissed and Harry instantly knew it was a genuine request. He didn't care, though.

Harry sat down and Malfoy backed away a bit. They spent a moment in silence before Harry asked once again, what he probably thought to be in a better way, "Malfoy I cannot believe you’re alive. Why are you here? The ministry assumed you were dead. Well not just the ministry, everyone else as well. Also , what's up with your face? "
"Fuck you, Potter." Draco said, suddenly hostile. "bugger off." He didn’t want anything to do with magic much less tell his reasons to “the saviour” Draco internally rolled his eyes at that thought.
"Are we seriously gonna hold grudges now?" Harry said slightly joking and half smiling.
God Draco hated him.
He thought maybe it would be better just to talk to him , get him of his back. They’d had conservations before , after the war. What the hell?

"I'll hate you for the rest of my life, Potter." Draco mumbled , still not wanting to be a part of this conversation.

"Oh, such a sweet sentiment,” Harry retorted with a smirk . "Care about me that much, Malfoy?"

Seeing the crimson tint on Malfoy 's cheeks he couldn't stop himself from lightly laughing.

Draco thought Potter had a nice laugh but quickly pushed those gay thoughts aside. Thinking of gay stuff...

Wait a minute, Draco thought. something hit him like a truck, and he felt like the ground was swept from beneath his feat. The place Draco worked at was an establishment for gay men. That must mean that Harry was gay! Or liked men at least! Draco didn't know why this made him happy, but it did and suddenly the revelation made sense. But it's not like he would care or anything... he had Steve and Steve had him, he thought to himself. The situation made his head ache. Him meeting Harry Potter , after 2 years of living a Muggle life and In the gay bar where Malfoy worked, to top it off! This was extremely ridiculous.

" What are you doing here?" He asked, no bite in his tone, just resignation. It was better than glaring at at Potter until he leaved.

" I'll tell if you tell." Harry said in a light sing songy voice , attempting ( Badly) to taunt Malfoy.
"Tell you what?" Malfoy feigned innocence , raising his brows , slightly widening his eyes.
"First, What happened to your face," Harry repeated now smiling , pleased with himself at how annoyed Draco looked “ Then what you’re doing here.”
"No." It was subdued and harsh.
Harry wanted to leave but felt like a nagging voice telling him he should go for it anyway.
"Tell me or I tell everyone you're alive." He said smirking a bit
“Fine.” Draco repeated with gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. It was subdued but it'll do, Harry thought
"You first." Harry had to hide his grin. He loved how Malfoy looked with blue hair. He wondered if he had piercings anywhere else.

"I hate you so fucking much." Malfoy said in the same subdued yet bitey tone.
"Damn , Malfoy , kiss your mother with that mouth?" He smiled but he realised he stepped into a minefield. He knew it by the look on Draco's face, and quickly steered backwards.
"Okay I'll tell you , I just got tired and wanted a drink after an auror mission," A minute passed before Harry felt the need to press on further.
"What about your face?" He asked.
"Why are you so obsessed with my face?!" Malfoy half shouted. Causing Harry to laugh a bit.
"It's a good looking face." Harry shrugged, but suddenly neither of them could believe he said that out loud, judging by the look written all over Malfoy...

Draco raised his eyebrows and but gave up regardless "I needed to leave my old life behind." Draco said after a moment of silence. " People would hex me left and right,"
He sighed deeply before adding "and most of them blamed me for the death of their loved ones. People would be disgusted on hearing my name. The people I knew broke contact with me. My breaking point was when a Ravenclaw eight year tried to kill me but ended up breaking my arm instead. Her mother was killed in the war. It was just too much. I hated myself and left school."

Harry didn't know what to say to that, added to the fact he couldn't believe Malfoy was telling him of all people, even though Harry had technically blackmailed him.

"You left your wand behind. Everybody thought you were dead."

" Good," Draco muttered "Can't be killed twice."

There was a moment of silence before Harry thought Draco needed to know this. He just had to. It took him a minute to frame the words.

"People buried an empty casket for you." He thought this knowledge might help Draco. He didn't know why but felt like he needed to know. He didn't quite understand why he cared. A couple of years ago he would have grinned at the idea that Malfoy was utterly miserable, but he’d grown up , after the war. He had enough hate and misery to last not on,y him , but the entire Wizarding world a lifetime.

His eyes widened and he looked up from his hands which he’d been staring at for a while "What? Who?" Draco couldn't keep the suprise from his tone. People hated him. Every one despised him , loathed him. Who wouldn’t?

"All of the professors and students from our year , Malfoy." Harry knew he was treading on lithium ice. He had to take it slowly

"Liar," Draco accused ,“Nobody could have cared enough.”

" Your Slytherins- Parkinson , Zabini and Nott. They could barely hold themselves. They thought you killed yourself. Parkinson left the school a week after."

" I don't want to talk about this anymore , Potter." Malfoy hissed half heartedly. He couldn’t believe it. People had cared , how could he have leaved Pansy behind- she was his best friend. He didn’t even tell them. how was he so heartless?

If he didn't know any better , he would say Malfoy was almost on the verge of tears and this made Harry's heart ache and he just couldn't tell why.

and Harry knew no matter how much he wanted he couldn't force Malfoy.

Time passed in silence, not an uncomfortable one . Harry sat there while Draco stared at his hands in quiet compilation. Half an hour passed.

Draco decided it was time to answer Potter’s first question . What could possibly go wrong? Draco thought to himself sarcastically. It took him a while to gather up the courage , he didn’t have much of it, after all.

"Piercings and tattoos are fun," Malfoy smirked suddenly , slightly startling Harry.

“What?” Harry was ever so slightly dumbfounded and bewildered at the change of topic. Malfoy rolled his eyes , with that smirk plastered to his face and started again.

“To answer your very first question,” Oh , Harry remembered the first thing he said to Malfoy , feeling slightly embarrassed at his reaction. He’d yelled a bit too loudly. “Piercings and tattoos are fun.” Still smirking.

"Tattoos?" Harry's asked. Interesting, Malfoy getting a tattoo.

" I'll show them to you some other time, Potter." Malfoy winked and Harry blushed. Was this supposed to be a defence mechanism - flirting?

They spent a while there, talking about Malfoy's life and Harry's and how things had changed. They talked about seventh year and how horrible it was. Harry found out Draco had an unseen piercing on his navel. He would never say it out loud but seeing Malfoy with dark blue hair and piercings and tattoos turned him on more than he'd care to admit.

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It had been an extremely pleasant day but he still wouldn't trust Malfoy with half a Knut. He shared his goodbyes with Malfoy when it became extremely late and went home.

But when he began to leave the bar he realised something. Something he hadn't paid attention to while coming in.

It was a gay bar. With gay people and he had half flirted with Draco blooming Malfoy.

He went home and put his coat on the holder , did his nightly routine and went to bed.

So many questions bugged Harry later that night and didn’t let him sleep. Would Malfoy out him ? tell everybody? Make fun of him? Use it as blackmail material? Did that mean Malfoy was gay too? He tossed and turned around in his bed and barely slept thinking about Malfoy. At some point , he thought to himself, about how this reminded him of sixth year and shuddered. He felt horrible even thinking about it. The year he’d stalked Malfoy and almost killed him. The year Dumbledore died , the year he left Hogwarts , broke up with Ginny. He pushed those thoughts aside but still didn’t get a decent nights sleep.

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And when Malfoy returned to his boyfriend , who was staying at his apartment for the night he’d tell him about how he’d encountered someone from his childhood. How they caught up and such. Steve listened intently , and this made Draco love him even more. He kissed him but when he laid down in bed that night , with his boyfriend beside him , he couldn’t think of anything else.

So he lay there thinking about his horrible encounter with potter and was bugged by the questions he’d asked and the answers he’d given him. Would he tell everyone Draco was alive? Then knew he wouldn’t . So Draco closed his eyes and thought about wonderful Potter, with his scar and his broomstick . He couldn't think of anything else that night.

Chapter Text

A day later, Harry dragged himself out of his temping bed and into the auror's office, casting a quick charm to wake himself up, heaven knows he could use it. The brief encounter with Draco had him up all night, and he had absolutely no clue why. The whole thing was strange- the feeling in his gut, the way Draco was pretending to be a muggle.

The fact Draco worked at a gay bar.

Now where did that come from??

"Oi, mate, you look like the bloody baron had you up all night." Ron commented, walking into the break room.

"You don't look all the well yourself either." Harry retorted.

Ron sighed, filling his mug with coffee. "Rose was up all night with nightmares. Slept with me and Mione. Not happening again."

"Couldn't have been that bad, Ron."

Ron raised his eyebrows, disbeviling. Harry chucked, but kept his promise to Draco about his "death" and said nothing more. He wondered what a big deal it would be if Ron and Hermione knew. Surely he knew they wouldn't spread rumors. The trio didn't exactly leave things on a good note, after Hogwarts. Barely unsnapped tension ran thick between them all until they didn't have to share the same roof, finally. But Harry was starting to rethink his judgement.

"Hey, Hermione wanted me to ask if you wanted to come over for dinner tonight?" Ron asked, breaking Harry out of his thoughts.

"Sure." Harry said. "Got nothing better to do."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Don't make it sound so exciting. And you really need a boyfriend."

The saviour smirked. "Don't remind me, huh?" But he couldn't help but think of who he wanted to fill that position.

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At dinner, the three talked about the same things they did back at Hogwarts, and it was comforting to Harry. So much had changed since then, but he knew this wouldn't.

"And," Hermione stated proudly, "I've gotten the Ministry to take a couple second looks at the house elf laws currently in use."

Harry smiled at her. "Great job, Mione."

She beemed at him, handing Ron a napkin without looking, as food dribbled down his chin.

Conversation steered towards old classmates, Aurors in the Ministry, the newest Weasley children, and, eventually, Harry.

"Are you sure you're doing ok on your own?" Hermione asked, ever fretful for him.

Harry waved her off. "More than fine, I promise. The jobs been keeping me busy."

Just then, Rose walked up to the table, placing a Lego creation on Hermione's lap, and saying, "Daddy says uncle Harry needs a boyfriend.

Ron gaped at her. Hermione started laughing and Harry pressed his head in his hands.

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Draco pulled the extra change off the table, watching for Steve to come in. Katherine worked along side him, washing the bar top and whistling a little loudly. Draco liked it. Katherine was Draco's only friend, but also his manager. She decided to hire him, give him a second chance at life, and a friend to rely on. Even if she didn't know all of it.

A blonde head walked through the door, and sure enough, it was Steve. Steve didn't really like Draco's job, saying to many other men were there to watch him, but Draco told him his co workers watcher on each other. Katherine met Steve once before, and lets just way it didn't go great.

"Drake" Steve called, and Draco cringed. He hated the nickname.

"Hello ,darling." Draco replied, hugging Steve over the counter.

"That's it? Gimme some sugar." Steve said, winking. Draco embarrassingly gave him a peck on the mouth and rubbed his cheek.

Katherine smiled at them, gave a nod to Steve, and went back to work, whistling again.

"So when's rush hour? I wanna make sure everybody knows this one's taken." Steve grabbed Draco's hip, pulling him suddenly and Draco gave him a half-hearted smile. He didn't really like it when Steve got this possessive. It made all sorts of customers uncomfortable, and Draco knew when to give a hint. And most people knew when to take one. Especially from a gay bar. But Steve just didn't have it. He made sure EVERYBODY knew Draco was off the list.

"It's ok, I get off in about an hour, before then."

Steve smiled and nodded, happy with this.

He watched Draco work for a little while, but kept glancing at Katherine, almost looking angry. Katherine obviously noticed, but pretended to not, for Draco. Thank you, Draco thought.

It wasn't until Katherine started up her next whistling tune when Steve stood, snapping at her. "Will you stop that?" He demanded, none too polite.

Katherine raised her eyebrows, but being an angel, didn't remark and stopped whistling.

Steve left about ten minutes later, after boasting to a few costumers about how Draco is lucky to have him, making Draco feel miserable for the rest of the day. Katherine didn't whistle too much after that.

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It was three days after Harry had dinner at Ron and Hermione's, and his feet were marching him to a certain bar against his will.

He had no idea why, but what he had to find Malfoy, to talk to him, to hear him again. Maybe make sure he was actually alive? Malfoy probably had no idea, but Harry blamed himself on a portion of his "suicide". Once he learned the bloke was dead, Harry didn't really know what to think, other than, "this is my fault." He told Ron, who he tells everything, but Ron asked him how it could possibly be his fault. Harry didn't know. He also didn't want to go to the funeral. Not many people did. But they had to , out of respect. Malfoy had helped Harry more than he'd liked or cared to admit.

He'd reached the bar faster than last time, and before he lost his nerve, walked in. For once, luck was on his side, and Malfoy was working. Or was it?

Harry sat down in the same spot as before, right in front of Malfoy's turned back. He gulped loudly and rapped his knuckles on the bar.

"Hello, I'll have a whiskey on the rocks, please." Harry informed Malfoy, repeating his order from last time.

Malfoy turned around, and Harry's mouth went dry. Maybe he should get a water instead. His bartender was dressed in a white, tight fitting shirt, and black leather pants that hugged his thighs so wonderfully. If he squinted, Harry could just make out the outline of what was probably naval jeweley.

Malfoy looked just as surprised as Harry would have been.

"Potter." Malfoy choked out, looking his costumer up and down. Harry hoped he was dressed right for a gay bar. He didn't really know another way to dress.

"Uh, yeah, whiskey coming right up." Malfoy said, whipping up the drink quickly.

A burst of courage filled Harry, and he said, "I need to talk to you."

Malfoy froze in place, like a deer in headlights. "What about?" He asked, suddenly feeling snappy.

"Please, just hear me, Draco." Harry pleaded, purposely using Malfoy's first name. It worked.

"I thought you were going to leave me alone?" Malfoy said , in the same subdued tone , full of resignation that he had used when Harry forced him to talk last time.

"I thought you were gonna show me your tattoos?" Harry smirked. Now he knew wasn't the time for jokes , but he simply couldn't help himself.

Malfoy blushed, bright on his pale skin, even in the dark, it was clearly visible. Harry thought about how cute he looked but then decided it was time to talk about what he came for.

"But that's not why I'm here..." Harry admitted, hoping his gut was right about this.

"Oh?" Draco asked, and was that disappointment in his voice?

"I uh, I need to ask if, um..." He looked awkwardly around for a bit before Draco felt the need to intervine.

"For Salzar's sake, Potter, just say it."

"Are you gonna tell the press I'm gay?" There, he said it. Ok? Happy, gut?

Malfoy blinked, once, twice and a look of almost furious disbelief spread across his face before he started in a righteous tone, "Harry Potter, the boy who lived, defeated the dark lord, and the biggest fucking moron alive."

Harry was shocked. "What?"

"I work at a gay bar, Potter, and I'm supposed to be dead. And have you seen my face? Of course I won't tattle to the press. You couldn't pay me all of the galleons in the world to go back. Merlin, you have no faith." He scowled ever so slightly.

Harry sighed, and laughed nervously, pushing a hand through his mop of hair. Well that's right! Malfoy's supposed to be dead! He thought.

"Thanks." He said, taking a sip of his muggle drink. He much preferred firewhiskey, but this would do.

Malofy wrung his hands, looking nervous. Harry wondered why. Was someone listening?

After an almost painful silence , Draco decided to ask the question that had been bugging him and not letting him sleep at night.

"But I have to ask," Draco finally said raising his eyebrows to show fake interest , at least that's what Harry thought. "You're actually into guys?"

Harry shrugged wondering why Malfoy was interested but credited it to simple curiosity, "Bi, I guess."

Malfoy furrowed his eyebrows. "The Weasley girl?"

Harry snorted into his drink. "I was just figuring things out then. Had a thing with her older brother, Charlie. You've never met him, but you'd like to. He's hot."

Malfoy laughed, surprised by how open Potter suddenly was about this. Harry admitting he was bi suddenly made sense. He also had a sneaking suspicion about a relationship with the Diggory boy who died in the TriWizard Tournament, but he wasn't about to bring that up.

They fell into silence. Well, Harry did, watching Malfoy serve other costumers and talk with his co workers. Harry could feel some eyes fall onto him the course of the night, but keep his firmly on the counter, or, surprisingly, Malofy.

It became dark, and as more people filtered into the bar, Harry decided it was time for him to go. It felt strange to leave his bench stool, to leave Malfoy and his strange blue hair and piercings. He put a fifty dollar muggle bill on the counter and was about through the door when he heard Malfoy call his name.

"Harry!"

Harry turned, surprised by the use of his first name, the same as Malfoy.

Malfoy looked lost, and a little unsure of himself. "Come- uh, come by Sunday? I work then."

Harry grinned, and he knew it was a shit eating one. "If you'll miss me that bad, sure, Malfoy."

Malfoy blushed, again, and flipped him the bird. If Draco knew Potter was going to look smug he wouldn't have done it..

Harry gave it back, and started down the street to his house, fighting the absurd urge to giggle.

Chapter Text

Harry did have quite a lot going on with his life. He’d spend hours on cases , up late at night and Ron and Hermione had even made it a rule not to ask Harry about field work. Last time he’d met them , he’d felt totally unwelcome , uncomfortable and intrusive. He’d always love both of them. They were his best friends , for Merlin’s sake! But he’d just recently come to realise that they were a couple, a married couple and would need their time alone. Ron never came out to meet Harry anymore , saying that he needed to take care of rose or had things to do. Although it helped that Ron worked with him and they could get lunch together , there wasn’t really much more than that. The same for Hermione, she worked for days to get a little amendment for the sanctity of magi or had once refused to leave her office until she had done whatever it is she wanted to do - Harry couldn’t really remember but knew it had something to do with the house elf laws.

While sitting in his compartment at the auror office , Harry often reminised of Hogwarts, where his friends were his friends, and fondly recalled the time they’d spent together. What he wouldn’t give for a game of exploding snap like they’d done in the common room in fourth year. Well , now thinking about it , he didn’t want exactly the match they’d done in fourth year. Neville had gotten hurt and the dirty look Madam Pomfrey had given Harry was enough to send shivers down his spine just remembering it. But now those days had long since been gone and he was now stuck as Head Auror Potter.

As he stared at the paperwork he’d have to fill soon , he sighed. Harry hated this. But he did have something to look forward to , though. He was meeting with Malfoy today , in the evening most likely.

These chats and meetings had become sort of a regular thing between them. Every other Sunday , Harry would go to the bar at which Malfoy worked and talk to him. Malfoy would ask a couple of questions about how everyone was , and Harry would answer with a shrug , considering he and Malfoy had revolved in completely different circles. He wanted to tell Malfoy this , but he’d quickly changed the topic to music. He’d completely caught Harry off guard when he’d informed him of his favourite band which was , much to Harry’s surprise , Fall out boy. When he’d asked Harry his he was just stumped and was rendered speechless for a moment. Malfoy listened to muggle music? Well , he had been living amongst them for years. Muggle pop culture was bound to grow on him. Apparently this was too much thought because Malfoy had smirked and laughed lightly along with saying the line “Have you been physically incapacitated by my amazing taste in music , potter?”
Which caused Harry to make a face and answer Malfoy’s previous question. “ I haven’t heard a muggle song since I was 20,” which had , again much to Harry’s surprise , cause a look of light disappointment make its way upon Malfoy’s face. “ But,” Harry continued “ I did have a thing for linkin park.”

Harry smiled at the memory. He and Malfoy had talked about music all through his visit. Harry had come to enjoy them very much , and , as said before, looked forward to them now. It’d been six months since he had stumbled across Malfoy. And , he found himself to be absurd for thinking it , he was grateful it had happened. He’d needed a friend.

If someone had told his fifth year self that he would come to be something more than enemies with Malfoy , he’d have laughed and then punched them for being so daft. But , then again, he’d have also laughed at the idea of Malfoy with blue hair and piercings,

And so he began filling in the letters , and ticking whichever boxes he had to. His mind wasn’t really there but his hand kept moving.And as he finally signed his name at the right bottom corner of the paper and began to take out the next page , he couldn’t help but wonder two things - Why did the ministry of magic need so many bloody forms filled out? Wasn’t one enough? And second Did Malfoy think about him nearly as much as Harry thought about him?

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Harry made his was to the club , and found himself smiling lightly at how close he was to seeing Draco.
As he spotted his regular seat , and made his way and saw something unusual. It was Draco talking to someone , not a regular customer, Judging by the look in Draco’s eyes and the smile on his face. He looked at the blond bloke as if he were someone special. Oh! Draco kissed him. And after a reasonable amount of time , so as not to interrupt anything Harry found his feet moving even though his brain was still processing what he had witnessed.

Harry felt horrible , he's assumed it was from the long day at the ministry. But it didn't feel quite right. He was feeling something else. An emotion he couldn't quite place.

“Hello, Malfoy.” He had managed to say in a voice as casual as he could muster.

Malfoy finally looked away from the straight nosed , square jawed man sitting in front of him. And the man looked at Harry like he was some sort of competition? As if he were another preadator about to steal his prey? This look of annoyance and something other Harry couldn’t quite place made him feel uneasy.

“Potter. Sit down. The usual?” Malfoy asked with that smile that had not quite worn off his face.

“ Yep. Whiskey on the rocks , please.” Harry answered and did as asked. He took a seat , unfortunately the only one available was next to the blond bloke Malfoy had been almost snogging. Harry had the urge to ask who he was but kept it to Himself. Malfoy would tell him , if he wanted to.

There was an awkward silence before it was broken by the lines of “Hello,” The blond began. Any kind of odd look Harry had seen before had no traces left. ”My name’s Steve,” he offered out a hand and charmed Harry with a dazzling white smile. Harry had to admit he had a nice smile. A perfect one he would have said but ‘Steve’s’ teeth were much too white to flatter his light complexion.”you know drake?” He asked with a hint of menace in his tone , but Harry was not quite enough to realise it.

Harry was stumped for a moment. Who was drake?

And before Harry could answer , a pale hand set his drink of choice in front of him. Oh. He looked at Malfoy ,then at the drink and the at this “Steve” and realised Steve was still looking at him expectantly. Harry took his hand and smiled a bit , he was sure the smile looked forced. He answered “ yeah. We went to-” he mentally kicked himself for almost saying Hogwarts. After a very brief pause he continued “-school together.”

“Oh , so you’re the guy Drake told me about.” Malfoy looked a bit pink but Harry wasn’t sure whether it was because of that nickname or because of the fact that Steve had told Harry that Malfoy talked about him.

“ I suppose,” he turned to Malfoy “Am I the guy you told Steve about , Malfoy?” He asked with the faintest hint of a smirk.

His question was answered with a very brief yes and no eye contact . Malfoy looked ready to kill him self , as well as kill someone else - a combination Harry didn’t know was possible up until now.

“How was drake like when he was a kid? He’s the mysterious sort. He never tells me anything about his childhood.”

“ Well he was a right pr-“

“Okay. I’m gonna go serve other people. Try not to bitch about me too much, I’m looking at you potter.”

This caused Harry to come out of his trance. He was tired.

"Never." He smiled. He loved talking to Malfoy.

Steve began “Oh I wonder what drake looked like when-“

“Can you please stop calling me that?” Draco hissed between gritted teeth. He had enough. Was it too much to ask? Just in front of his friends?

Steve looked at Harry , rolled his eyes and gave Harry a look that said ‘Do you believe this guy?’. “Sure,” and continued on as If nothing ever happened. “When he was a kid, he has no photos of himself! Like none at all!”

“Oh?” Harry’s eyebrows went up and he turned towards Malfoy. Smiling slightly , he said “Let’s just say he looks a LOT,” Harry emphasised the word as much as he could “better now.” Malfoy sneered which made Harry smile more.

Draco quickly turned round and went to serve the men that had been glancing his way , hoping for their drinks.

Steve and Harry talked for a while , though it was mostly Steve. Malfoy came and went serving orders. Harry finished his drink and somehow Steve had ended up on the Topic of Rugby? Harry remembered hearing uncle vernon say something about it once , he wasn’t sure though. Harry was lost in his thoughts and it had been a while when Harry realised Steve was still talking. Merlin , this man sure loved the sound of his own voice.

Around Steve’s fourth or fifth round he’d started dosing off now and then. Was Harry obliged to stay? He felt like he had to. He liked Malfoy too much to ruin whatever kind of semi- friendship they’d built. Steve was still talking. Harry decided he could go and was almost about to get up when he saw the unmistakable head of blue hair and decided he could stay a bit longer. Drac-Malfoy was just coming over to Harry! Yes! No... No wait, he turned left to Harry and started talking to Steve. Harry wanted death.

“Steve darling , you’ve had enough to drink. I’m not giving you any more.”

“What? You wouldn’t!” His brows moved together and Steve started almost shouting. “Come on , drake! One more!”

“No.” His reply was met by an array of swear words Harry had not yet heard before yelled in public.

This was followed by a pause and an very awkward one at that Harry decided to excuse himself to the bathroom.Harry wanted to leave but he’d hardly talked to Draco.

As he went he thought about the most recent “adventure” in his life.

Meeting Steve was absolutely phenomenally terrible.

Harry didn’t like him much. His hair looked like it had enough gel to slick back the hair of a small army. His teeth were unnaturally white. He talked even though no one was listening and he wasn’t particularly nice to Draco.

He had done his business , washed his hands and just as he was about to leave he saw Steve. He never knew how much a person could irritate him. “Hey there!” Steve exclaimed.

“Hey.” Harry didn’t have the energy to deal with this anymore. He didn’t get to talk to Malfoy and that was that. He’d listened to Stove or whatever his name was for several hours out of sheer decency.

“So um pal,” Steve began. Harry was thinking of how he’d take the cruciastus over a day with this person.
“I really like you and you’re a great listener and stuff but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t eye my guy.”

“What?” Harry was now genuinely confused.

“He talks about you like you saved the world or something. Also I’ve seen the way you look at him. Stay away”

“Seriously?” Harry was dumbfounded. Firstly because of how Steve thinks Malfoy talks about him. And secondly, this? After listening to Steve for hours? The universe must be playing some kind of horrible joke.

“Yeah back off.” Steve said again with annoyance in his tone.

“Okay , mate , I very much don’t like your guy that way. Also , you’re drunk.” Harry tried to explain in the nicest way possible. But it was incredibly difficult considering he’d come to very much dislike Steve.

“ No I’m not and I know you like him so just back off , bro. He’s mine.” The last words were practically growled.

Harry just raised his hands up in surrender and left.

He needed a drink. Well he’d already had a drink but he needed more.

He sat down in his previous spot and Steve came over as well. Harry was considering a Avada kedavra-ing himself at this point. He closed his eyes , laced his head down on the platform and considered banging it there repeatedly. This was just absolutely horrifying. When he raised his head he’d realised Draco had kissed Steve and they were exchanging goodbyes. Thank Merlin! He was saved! He heard some things along the lines of “-gonna be out late. Don’t wait up for me.” And a “alright , love you.” From Draco’s side.

As soon as Steve left , Draco sighed deeply. Steve didn’t pay.

Harry ordered another whiskey on the rocks. This caught Draco’s eye and he raised his eyebrows at him. Harry had only ordered one or sometimes , very rarely, on particularly bad days twice. “What happened to you? This is your third.”

“Nothing.” Harry didn’t want to annoy Malfoy. He’d probably suffered enough , having that git as a boyfriend.

“I know something’s wrong .What is it?”

Draco was met by an unfamiliar silence. He and Harry'd become good friends. They'd never had uncomfortable , tension filled silences. Not since the second time they'd met.

"Snake got your tongue?" Malfoy smirked.

Damn. Malfoy was persistent. He wouldn’t give up. Harry knew this so he decided to go with the truth.

“I didn’t like Steve very much.”

And that was it. Harry regretted it instantly. His smirk was wiped instantly from his face and the look on Malfoy’s face that replaced it was horrible. It made Harry afraid. Afraid that he’d gone and ruined everything that they had worked for together.

“Why?” Malfoy looked hurt and like Harry had crossed a line.

But Harry had decided to tell the truth so he thought to stick with it “First of all , he was a right jerk. Second, he talks down to you. Third , he looks like he eats caviar and golf balls for breakfast-“ Harry had mentally prepared a list of at least seven reasons why Draco shouldn’t be dating Steve.

There was a moment of terrifying silence until he hissed at Harry, “You have no right , potter,” Malfoy still looked hurt and sad but now he wa angry and upset all together.

“Of course I do , you’re my -“

“I’m your nothing. We were enemies when we were kids and still should be. I don’t know what you think you’re doing interfering with my life like this but you need to stop it.” Malfoy hissed again.

Harry had wanted to say friend.

“Malfoy all I’m -“ Harry tried to apologise but he was cut off again.

“You’re not welcome here potter, you should go.” He couldn’t see Malfoy face anymore. He’d turned around and had started vigorously cleaning a glass that didn’t seem to be quite dirty

And Harry just didn’t have find the strength in him to argue.

———————————————————————————————

Two weeks had passed and Sunday he had come ,again. Harry didn’t particularly look forward to this. Harry had been very unwell that night and now regretted leaving. He should’ve fought Draco. Told him he cared. Harry just didn’t have very high hopes.

And when he went to the bar to find Malfoy had called in sick. Harry knew this was to avoid him , of course. Why else?

Which made Harry all the more upset. He had bashed himself for days and continued to do even when he had found Malfoy sitting on his porch on Grimmauld place with a split lip , broken nose , bruised face and a scarred forehead that he couldn't hide, Harry couldn’t help but think that maybe he could’ve prevented this.

After all Draco had been through? He hadn’t deserved this.

Chapter Text

Considering his luck, Draco was suprised it wasn't raining. 

"That guy is tot-totally checking you out, alllll the time."

"Harry isn't 'checking me out', Steve. We're friends and barely that!"

"You didn't see what I saw."

"I didn't need to, jerk"

It was dark out, the moon was just a sliver peaking from between the clouds. It was nice when the wind wasn't blowing, but when it was the chill went straight to his bones. 

Draco shivered, not sure for what reason. 

"Do you understand why I hit you?"

Draco couldn't talk. The pain was too much. The only thing he could feel we're the silent tears making their way down his face and dripping from his jaw and red nose. His eyes were swollen and his lip was bleeding.

"Answer me!" 

"Becuase you love me."

"No, wrong. It’s because you don't get to talk to me like that."

He didn't know where he was going, he didnt know what his feet were doing, bringing him briskly across the road, crossing backyards and ducking under clothing lines. It was painfully domesticated. His head was throbbing.

The houses here were lined empeckibly, completely different but they fit perfectly. They complimented eachother. They looked good, fit good in one another. Draco wondered why he was getting emotional over houses.

"Please pick up... please..."

"Who are you calling??"

"...The bar! I'm calling in sick again!"

He suddenly stopped, his subconscious halting him. Moonlight spilled like water across the windows in front of him and the breeze stopped. It was painfully quiet, felt like the world was holding a breath. It had to let to breath go at some point, Draco was dreading this.

It's suddenly apparent, and embarrassingly so, that Draco didnt know how to knock on a door that doesn't  exist.

He glances at the houses on either side, each labed 11 and 13 respectively. It seems as though number twelve was forgotten, or simply numbered wrong. Draco knows better, but not enough.

"POTTER!" He shouts, cupping his hands and wincing at the feel against his cheek. "POTTER!" The noise echos, bouncing around the street and inside Draco's head. He hopes he doesn't faint. That would be embarrassing. 

Nothing happened for a beat, Draco standing alone on the dark street, completely numb, hoping for somthing. Hoping for Potter.

Then, the street stretches, the houses move apart, there's a feeling Draco can only describe as magic that he knows all to well and he wishes he didn't. Number twelve Grimmwauld place appears in front of him, coming from nowhere. It's dark, old, and by far the biggest house in the area. Windows stare at him like watchful eyes, unblinking. 

The door opens.

Draco feels his breath hitch the same time Potter's eye's widen quietly. 

"Draco?" Draco feels coated in honey, like he cant move any quicker unless someone removes it. He doesn't know why. Potter called him by his first name. Melt.

There's hands on his body, cradling his neck and carefully lifting his face. 

"What the fuck happened to you?" Potter says, eyes still comically wide. 

Draco feels like bawling like a baby. He doesn't. Yet. "I- can we- can we go inside?...Please?"

Harry doesnt say a word, just ushers the blonde inside and Draco should feel flattered, should feel honored for Potter letting him into his house. They were childhood enemies for Salzar's sake, Draco should never ever set foot inside this place. For a billion reasons. He should feel somthing. He doesn't. He can't.

Draco's leaning heavily on Potter, he isnt sure why, he doesn't feel like figuring out why so he just let's it happen.

They reach a sitting room, or what Draco assumes is a sitting room. It's huge, with a few sofas, and it opens into a kitchen which black countertops and nice appliances. It looks modern. Appealing. Different from his own house. 

Potter carefully sits him down in a large arm chair then disappears, coming back instantly with a first aid kit. Draco stares at it.

"Right" Harry says, pulling a needle from the kit. "I need you to hold your face real still."

"Why?" Is the first thing Draco says and he flinches. Rude.

"Because you need stitches." 

He doesn't feel the stitches go in his forehead, he doesn't feel the needle under his skin, he doesn't feel the swipe of rubbing alchohol nor the gauze. He feels numb. Potter stays silent, nothing but their joined breathing. 

Draco wonders why he's here.

"There," Potter says, wiping his hands on his pants and quickly packing up the kit. "Done."

Draco doesn't feel done. He feels finished. He feels exhausted. Betrayed. Scared. Worried. 

When Potter speaks, it's quiet, as if he's worried speaking louder will break Draco. Maybe it would.

"Wanna tell me what happened, mate?"

He doesn't. He doesn't. He really really doesn't. He has to.

He looks to the ground, ashamed. "You could tell anyone."

Potter snorts bitterly. "Who would I tell? What the hell could I even say? I don’t even know anyone you know, Draco."

Good point, Draco thinks. Maybe he's brain dead, maybe he can't tell what words are coming out of his mouth, what words will come out. Or maybe he just doesn't care right now. Maybe he's sick of Steve telling him what to do, what to say, how to act. The only thing Steve doesnt tell him what to do is the way he does his hair.

Fuck it.

"You- you, uh, met Steve." Draco whispers, unsure why.

To his credit, Potter doesn't immediately start yelling or lecturing Draco, telling him he knew somthing was up and that he needs to call the police or some bullshit, but his eyebrows do shoot up into his hairline practically. 

"Steve did this?" He asks, clutching the handle of his first aid kit like a lifeline, or maybe he was pretending it was Steve's throat, who knows?

Draco can only nod miserably, looking down and flushing in humiliation. This could have been one of his worst ideas yet, but this could be his liberation.

Potter does the last thing Draco expects. He turns around, sets the kit down, and pulls out the kettle. He's making them tea.

"What?" Draco asks outloud, confused, watching the savior of the entire world make his childhood enemy tea after being beat by his abusive boyfriend. 

The fuck?

"I'm making tea." Potter says simply, and Draco be damned if he didnt imagine the slight tremor to his words. Anger?

"So Steve," The boy says, though Draco supposes he isn't a boy anymore. He flinches at Steve's name. "He does this a lot?"

The blonde considers this question, considers lying and saying this is a first but he wonders what the point would be. Everything is out now, it can't get worse. "Yes. But this is the worst it's ever been."

Potter is quiet while the kettle boils and he pours the water. "What was it like the other times?"

Draco answers, almost in instinct that Potter might get mad if he doesnt quickly enough. "Just a few bruises and cuts. Not like this at all." Then he shakes his head, wondering why the hell Potter even cares. "Why do you care, Potter?"

Setting down the tea in front of them, he laughs at Draco. Bitterly again. Draco thinks that's a habit. "Because shit like this is exactly my job, remember? I've dealt with people like Steve before, I just wanna help."

And suddenly Draco's mad, mad at Potter for assuming he needs help, or stitches, or tea or any of this. "I dont need your help." He spits.

"You kinda proved that incorrect when you showed up at my doorstep." 

Draco doesn't even fight the claim. He did need help and Potter was there. He was there. Unlike Steve would have been. 

"Thanks." Draco says. He means it. 

"You're welcome."

Potter gets up again and refills his mug, but this time with a bottle of muggle whiskey and downs it like a shot. Draco watches, mildly intrested.

"What are you gonna do now?" Potter asks.

"I dont know." Draco says, absently twirling his earring. "I'll just- I dont know."

Potter says nothing, back still turned on him and busily roaming about the kitchen putting away dirty cups but Draco knows he heard him.

He grasps the mug of hot tea in front of him and clings to the boiling ceramic, the rings on his fingers clanking against it. 

"You can stay here." Potter says randomly, after placing every dirty dish in the sink. "I have a spare room or five. It's a big place."

Draco is stunned silent, blinking once, twice, then coming back to his wits. Steve would be pissed, beyond pissed but right now, Draco can only watch Potter, look at his dark hair in the light and his calm green eyes and think that maybe this isnt such a bad idea. In fact, it's probably smart.

"Would that- would that be alright?" 

Potter laughs, but this time its loud and sweet, not bitter. "Sure. Kreacher will show you the way. Spare clothes in the closet."

With a loud SNAP that makes Draco jump nearly a foot in the air, a ugly, gray house elf appears out of nowhere. 

"Follow me master Malfoy." The elf says in his croaky voice, turning on its wrinkled heel.

"Thanks Kreacher."

Draco gets up to follow but Potter stops him with a hand on his shoulder. Draco never noticed before, but Potter is a few inches taller than him, just enough so Draco is forced to tilt his head to met eye to eye. 

"Shout if you need anything, right?" Potter says.

Draco smirks. "Sure, Potter."

Potter smiles back, then says, "You can call me Harry."

“I think I’ll stick with Potter.” Draco smirks.

Jesus, how did he find the strength in himself to be a smartass with stitches on his forehead.

Draco didn’t want to sleep that night, visions of Steve finding him and hurting him haunt him. He felt scared in bed, like a child. But he faintly felt the stitches on his head, his fingers hovering over them. They didn’t hurt.His eyes slowly came shut. Maybe it was Harry Potter’s magic touch he needed after all.

Chapter Text

As suddenly as Draco had slowly drifted into sleep, as suddenly he was pulled out of it.

His eyes opened quickly and suddenly to the sound of... a man screaming? Was this a weird dream. It was some kind of muggle music.

Where was he? He absently recalled the events of last night, through the music that seemed to make him want to scream as well. It was so loud.

His instincts knew he had to get up and get it to stop. His body however, wanted to heal.

His mind eventually won and Draco reluctantly got up, and even though he could barely hear his own thoughts through the sound of this man screeching, freshened up best he could.

As he got through the slow process of cleaning himself the muggle way, he faintly recognised the song. Something he had definitely heard before.

After he was done, he made his way out, searching for Potter. He would thank him, and leave. The more he had thought about it, the more he regretted it. They had bonded, and certainly didn’t hate each other anymore, but Draco’s insecurities got the better of him.

“Potter?” All he could do was shout. No normal person would be able to hear anything over these sounds. For the first time, whilst wondering these never ending corridors, he decided to actually pay attention to the lyrics.

PUNK AINT DEAD, PUNK AINT DEAD WHOEVER-

Just as he took a turn he saw Harry, who was .... he was...

“Harry!”, Draco yelled over the music. He could barely hear his own thoughts but couldn’t stop himself from blushing, smiling to himself and letting out an almost giddy laugh all at the same time. How many times do you see the Saviour of the world dancing to rock music, in nothing but a towel while brushing his teeth with his brows furrowed in concentration. Draco just couldn’t take his eyes off him. He looked down a bit when-

Harry instantly turned around and his eyes widened and face flushed with embarrassment as he realised what was going on. He pressed the switch on the stereo and and said , what Draco took to be an apology. He realised all he was wearing was a bath towel, barely hiding his own dignity. He heard Draco half laugh again and his face contorted in embarrassment. He had almost forgotten what had happened last night. He was sober, just very tired.

Draco still smiled, split lip and all. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

~~~~~~~~~

Harry got dressed. There remained lingering embarrassment from the earlier encounter, how could he have set the volume so high?

He thought about Draco Malfoy as he got on with his routine. How he had managed to smile even though he was so unbelievably upset last night. How brave he had been to seek help. He wondered about what started the fight that made Draco leave. He didn’t know how much more he wanted to think of him or if he was thinking too much about him, which only resulted in him thinking about Draco more.

He made his way down the long lasting stairs of Grimmauld place and stumbled upon Draco talking to kreacher. With an odd amount of respect for a stranger, and then realised again that he had probably seen Draco before, when he was still young enough to attend hogwarts. He had met with death eaters and as he recalled, Draco was forced to be with them.

“Breakfast ready, kreacher?” Harry asked as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Yes! Today kreacher has made a special breakfast for our pure-blooded guest!” And something of a smile came upon his face, which Harry wouldn’t really recognise as there were barely any occasions that had called for it and just thought he was making an unusual face,

And Draco gave a polite smile to both of them in return. Being a pure-blood had never truly made Draco proud when he considered himself to be a good wizard. All Draco thought of himself now was that he was unworthy of his wand, not that he had it anymore, thanks to Harry Potter.

They sat down at the mahogany table in front of them. A moment passed in silence while food was put on their plates. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence but it was an unsettling one. “Are you alright, Draco?”, Harry asked to put it to an end.

He very pointedly finished chewing the food before he answered. Harry thought that Draco was taking the extra couple of seconds to think of what to say to get him off his back.

On the other hand Draco wanted to be honest to Harry, he really did but then he started thinking about Harry not caring and going through the formality of having an invited injured person, taking pity, just being polite and not actually caring about Draco. All these thoughts began running through his mind and after thinking about way too many thoughts in a single second all that went through he managed to say was,” I’m fine”

“No you’re not.” Harry said again brows furrowed together and a look of disbelief etched on his face. “You’re boyfriend hurt you so badly you came to me, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that,” he added after seeing the look of defence on Draco’s face. “All I’m saying is I understand. It takes a toll on you. Always being on edge.”

Curiosity itched at him for a moment until he couldn’t help but ask “What do you mean?”

Harry saw it coming, he knew he would tell Draco last night if the time came,”I grew up with my aunt and uncle and my cousin. Sometimes they locked me in the cupboard with spiders, and didn’t ’t feed me for days. They sometimes...” he trailed off. He was sure Draco would be able to fill in the blanks.

A look of sad understanding made it’s way on Malfoy’s face. “They hurt you?” He knew the answer and was unable to bite his tongue before the question made it’s way through his lips.

“Yes. And made me watch Dudley, my cousin get everything I didn’t,” he sighed and looked at Draco’s eyes,” Unfortunately I don’t have just the one scar.” He smiled a sad smile.

“And they gave you that?” Draco said pointedly glancing down at his hand which had been previously resting on the table and immediately retracted to Harry’s side. He had a habit of doing that whenever a scar was pointed out. It read ‘I must not tell lies’

“Answer my question and I’ll answer yours.” Harry knew it couldn’t be a good idea to ask Draco this. Still he wanted to.

“What’s your question?”

“This isn’t the first time, as you’ve said before. What happened that was so bad you finally left?”

He sighed deeply with the sort of pain in his heart that you get when you have to say something and about someone you would have once trusted your life with. ”He thought I liked someone else. He thought I,” he hesitated before adding the second part,”...we were together.”

The look of surprise was evident on his face and the anger and sadness that came after it. Was he the cause of Draco getting so hurt? He had been the reason Steve had hit him, he looked up at his broken nose, split lip and stitches on his forehead. It was all because oh him. He felt almost overwhelmed with the guilt that washed over him. The new information sending his nerve endings numb but all he could managed to say under the wave of new feelings was “I’m so, so sorry.”

Draco could clearly read his thoughts. He would have thought the same thing. “It’s not on you. Not your fault. Mine for trusting him.”

He wanted to talk about something else, anything else. “You never answered my question,” he smiled when Harry looked up at him in slight confusion. And pointedly glanced at the scar again.

Harry laughed half-heartedly. “That was Umbridge. Remember her?”

Draco almost smiled at the memories of hogwarts but then immediately felt bad for Harry, emotions of pity and even hating himself for playing a role in helping her. “She really did hate you gryfindors.”

They finished the rest if the meal in silence. Comfortable silence this time. They didn’t feel the need to say anything. They could let go, if only for a moment.

At the end of the meal, Draco couldn’t help himself. “Steve isn’t my boyfriend.”

He continued seeing the puzzled look on Harry’s face. “You said my boyfriend hurt me. Well, he isn’t my boyfriend anymore.”

Harry still had the feelings of guilt and sadness running through him and looked at Draco again, his grey eyes meeting his green ones. The darkness seeing the light. The twilight sky meeting the dawn touched ground. Harry felt overwhelmed yet again. He looked at Draco’s blue hair and inched closer and Draco looked at him and did the same. A sense of vulnerability washed over both of them, but in a good way.

Thoughts ran through Draco’s head. Was this too fast? He had just come back from a relationship that ended in flames. Did Harry actually like him? Was this actually going to happen. Was Harry slipping really slowly and Draco making a fool of himself by doing the
same?

Harry thought of all the things he was unable to say and hoped that this would help. He hoped the kiss could say things he couldn’t and that his love went through.

But as their lips met and his eyes fluttered shut he knew he was right. This was right. All of it. Almost poetic. His closest thing to the Wizarding world was Harry Potter, the furthest thing from him when he was a wizard.

And so they kissed, their lips moulding the others and the kiss was full of things they wouldn’t be able to say and full of total adoration.

Harry loved the feeling of Draco’s lips and how soft they were. He adored thinking of him carrying around chapstick. He adored Draco’s earring. He adored his blue hair. He adored thinking of Draco as when they were kids and in hogwarts and how unlikely this was.

Draco loved the feeling of Harry's lips and how they weren't rough as he expected, any doubt completely melting from his mind. Draco adored Harry’s messy hair and the way he had been dancing to a silly rock song. He adored Harry being gentle with him. He adored Harry.

They stayed like that for a while, not thinking too much. Just kissing. And when they parted Harry moved a stray strand if blue hair from Draco’s face. They stayed like that for a moment. Just looking at each other. Admiring the other, looking into their eyes. Gender would be the best way to describe it.

He began with a soft smile, standing up. “I’m going to get ready and go to the Auror’s office. You’re going to be okay, right?”

To this Draco only smiled up at him. He didn’t want to leave anymore.

The sun shone making his dark brown hair and green eyes several shades brighter. In that moment , when Harry left the room, it left Draco Malfoy thinking of the real reason he had went to Harry Potter.

~~~~~~~~

Harry made his way into his small corner of the office, Ron behind him. They shared a cubicle.

“Where were you, mate? Bloody fuckin ‘ell round here last night. Three bloody witches and a wizard almost made off a Gringotts heist . The press was all over it. Not too often you see that eh? I reckon the last time someone broke into Gringotts it was us looking for Horcruxes. The paperwork!” Ron continued but Harry barely paid attention, he kept thinking about Malfoy and all the thing he had told him and about how he thought Steve was dangerous.

At first, the whim to look him up in the muggle database was innocent enough. He wanted to know more about him. About Steve. He definitely wouldn’t have a clean record. Domestic abuser’s almost never do.

Draco had said something about Steve’s father being a businessman. That would help.

Then the thoughts of arresting him came to mind. He very briefly wished that he knew anything about muggle police. Ha became an auror to help protect people. If Steve would go off free, he had failed. That’s what he told himself.

He convinced himself that all he would do was talk to Steve. Tell him off a bit, maybe.

And so he did. He found A Steve who fit the description. He was the Steve Harry had met in the bar. He was the Steve that had hurt Draco. He was the Steve that had hit someone innocent.

Harry didn’t know what came over him but he knew what he was going to do know. He would leave early. The ministry wouldn’t approve of him going to “rough up some muggle” as they would later put it.

He had one thing on his mind as he was beginning to leave the office. Hurt Steve as badly as he hurt Draco. That was reasonable. He packed his stuff much to the dismay of Ron.

“Where you going Harry? Are you okay? You ill? You never leave early. What’s up mate? You can tell me. You’ve been awful quiet” Harry felt bad for not telling Ron, he really did. But he knew Ron would try to talk him out of it and he couldn’t tell Ron the whole story. He resorted to avoiding him as much as possible.

Around lunch, he took a route he knew Ron never took. He would leave from there and go to Steve’s house and do what he had too. He was so close to the exit, almost visible through the crowd. He smiled when he heard a loud voice shout “Harry!” It was Hermione. “Where are you going?” She looked confused. “It’s only lunch.”

She was persistent. He had no idea how he was going to get himself out of this one.