4. Into The Arbitrary

[Owl] You have one more chance, consider yourself lucky.  Whispering Wand. 8pm. Friday.

Harry: Breath catching, my fingers clenched tightly around the worn parchment in my pocket, as I stepped inside the dimly lit pub, blinking repeatedly as my pupils dilated to adjust to the decreased lightning.

I had read and re-read the brief owl which had arrived days ago over and over and over again, too mortified to believe he was giving me a second chance after my despicable antics of our last date. Our one and only date.

Sinking my teeth into oft abused bottom lip, my apprehensive emerald eyes traveled across the occupants of the pub, searching for the telltale head of silver blond locks.

Shoulders sagging considerably at his absence, I strode towards the bar, sliding on a vacant stool and too mindful of my over indulgence in alcohol last week, opted for a mead instead.

Could it be that the owl was not from Malfoy? If not, then whom? Suddenly on alert at the thought of having walked into a trap of some sort - barely three years after the defeat of Voldemort - I spun on my stool, back to the bar, elbows resting on the counter as I leaned back, a frosted glass of mead in my clenched fingers and gazed at the Whispering Wand’s patrons with renewed interest.

Constant vigilance. Some lessons were worth paying heed to..

• • • • •

Draco:

The Whispering wand.

8pm

“Oi, Emmeline, fancy another go?”

I wiggled my empty shot glass at the bar keep who was currently pouring soda water into a glass at the other end and fixing me with an expression that told me what I already knew: That A) I was utterly incorrigible, and B) That her answer was ‘yes.’

I Grinned sweetly at her and winked, blinking innocently at her as she made her way back to my end of the bar. “You love me.” I muttered, leaning forward so only she could hear. She merely shook her head and rolled her eyes, pouring out two healthy shots and sliding one into my waiting grasp. “What shall we toast to, hmm?” I asked, raising my glass up and holding it towards her. /To your date, he’s going to need it./ I barked out a laugh at her words as our glasses clinked together, both of us tipping back our drinks in one fair swoop.

“Can’t argue with that.”

I replied as slammed my empty glass on the bar, brows wagging suggestively at her as I slid out of my stool. “Back in flash, miss me plenty.” I announced, padding happily towards the back of the pub, and more importantly, the loo.

It was like this in most of the ‘nightlife’ friendly establishments in London; I knew just about everyone and never had to wait in a line. Nothing was off limits to Draco Malfoy, and I fully used that to my advantage. I treated every bartend like royalty and always tipped the bouncers, I have manners and everyone loves me.

I’d been at the Whispering Wand since seven, chatting mostly with Emmeline and nursing a drink or two, waiting to see if Potter dared show up. Part of me thought he’d be a no-show, but the other part of me kindly reminded myself of his horribly annoying Gryffindor determination. He’d be here.

And sure enough there he was, looking horribly conspicuous at the bar I’d only abandoned moments ago.

“Oi, Emmeline, you found my boy, I owe you one love.”

I grinned, she rolled her eyes, and I winked.. It was kind of our thing.

“I wasn’t sure you’d show.”

I say, gaze fixing on him, and more importantly the glass in his grasp. There will be NO repeats of last time. I wouldn’t give him another chance.

• • • • •

Harry: My head instantly snapped in the direction of Malfoy’s voice. Widened emerald eyes captured by his stormy silver orbs, cheeks tinging faintly as my eyes followed his gaze to the frosted tall glass in my hand.

“I.. I’m sorry about last week, Malfoy.. It’d been a long day with just coffee and those spiced martinis while I waited for you, and… well.. I’m so sorry..”

I rushed out to explain, pushing away from the stool and placing the barely touched glass on the bar - far far away from reach - before glancing back up at him; teeth sinking into full bottom lips, as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.

“I didn’t think you’ld ever want to see me again..”

I trailed off, eying him intently, breath held unwittingly as I worried my lip incessantly.

• • • • •

Draco: “You should be sorry.”

I replied, brow arching sharply as my silver gaze moved over him, studying him. There was something about him I couldn’t quite figure out, but there was one thing I was very, very certain of.

He needed to lighten up.

“Come on then, finish your mead, It’ll take the edge off.”

I reached for his mug and pressed it back into his grasp, offering him a sly grin before turning back to the bar and waving over Emmeline.

“One more, love?”

She looked about to turn me down until I flashed her the most powerful thing in my arsenal, a dazzling and perfectly innocent-esque smile. I generally saved those for my mother, but this situation demanded it. With a smirky sigh and a shake of her head she poured out two more shots, sliding one to me and scooping up the other. I raised my glass up and dramatically placed the palm of my hand across my chest, as if I were giving an important speech.

“To Potter, may he not fall off the horse a second time.”

I smirked sideways at him and winked before turning back to Emmeline and clinking glasses with her, immediately downing the small glass of liquid seconds later.

“Come on then Potter, finish up. We’ve places to go, people to see yet, and I’m not getting any younger.”

I gestured to his mug of mead, watching impatiently as he attempted to drink it down. When I was satisfied I stepped back up to the bar and leaned over it, depositing a small kiss to Emmeline’s cheek and pressing several coins into the palm of her hand.

“Have a brilliant evening my love.”

I smiled and stepped back to Potter, who was peering at me with the most curious of expressions.

“Come on, Potter.”

I muttered, shaking my head and reaching for his arm, which I used to tug him towards the door, and more importantly, our next destination.

• • • • •

Harry: Flushing with renewed intensity at his words, I promptly averted my gaze from his scrutinizing one. I truly ‘was’ sorry. If he only could understand.. Heaving a heavy sigh, I shoved my hands deep into my pockets before glancing up at him, a second apology on my lips as I readied myself for a hasty retreat.

“I rea..”

The mumbled words died on my lips, hands coming freed of the confines of my pockets as he pressed my discarded glass into my hand and urged me to drink it.

Swallowing hard, my fingers instinctively curled around the frosted glass, brows arching and nearly disappearing beneath perpetually messy raven fringe as I bore witness to the interaction between the Malfoy heir and the barkeep; my face incessantly flushed as he toasted to my less than stellar behavior. Merlin. However could I make up for that?

Blinking slowly at him, head tilted, teeth worrying my oft abused lip, I inclined my head sharply in acknowledgement as I raised the glass to my lips and drank deeply from it; emerald gaze never wavering from the blond.. nor, the barkeep he..

Brows furrowing, I placed the glass away as I pondered if I had been mistaken in my pursuit of him. Nothing I had seen so far had hinted at Malfoy enjoying the company of men..

“Where exactly are we heading to, Draco..?”

I murmured softly, acutely aware of his close proximity as I heaved a small sigh, my gaze lingering on the smiling.. Emmeline? before snapping to the pale hand prodding me towards the door and the uncertainties of the early summer night in the company of one Draco Malfoy.

• • • • •

Draco: “Does it matter?”

I asked, arching a brow over my shoulder at him as we stepped out onto the street. In a moment we were off again, I merely offered him a look that said ‘keep up’ as we made down the street. I plucked my silver cigarette case from my pocket and removed a single cigarette, pressing it between my lips and effortlessly lighting it with wand tip. The trek down the street was an interesting one, I felt like he was brimming with questions he would never ask and I knew he still had no idea what to think of me.

I didn’t mind.

“Here we are.”

I announced a short while later, stubbing out my nearly spent cigarette on the bottom of my high tip trainer and banishing it. I watched as his emerald gaze flicked to the sign on the large structure that resembled a very old house.

With a smirk I led him up the steps of the Apsley House, pondering if he might catch on why were here.

• • • • •

Harry: Shaking my head slowly in response to the elegantly arched brow, I merely fell into steps with him as we traversed the narrow cobblestoned streets of the Alley. No, it mattered not where we were heading. Waking up and falling asleep for a fortnight with the image of the blond haunting me, had me convinced that I would most likely brave anything and anyone to spend a bit of time with him. Although, admittedly, I was curious as to our destination. The night was young and we seemed to be heading to the less trafficked residential areas of the Alley.

Mouth gaping and closing several times as the minutes ticked away, only to snap it shut each time before any words could form, I, instead, spent the time stealing covert glances of Mal.. Draco. He seemed so at ease with the barkeeps.. so alive.. yet, he had been reserved and slightly detached at the studio..

Mind whirling with a million thoughts a minute, I glanced up as we came to a halt in front of a large building; keen emerald orbs flickering from the blond extinguishing his cigarette to the heavy wooden door to the sign back to the blond as understanding dawned upon me.

“This.. This is the Apsley House.”

I stated, unneeded, the obvious, as we stepped up to the entrance, eyes alight with anticipation of catching a sight of my.. um.. his glass sculpture.

“Draco.. Your glass sculpture.. the one you were working on.. it’s here, isn’t it?”

I gushed as the door was opened and we stepped inside, moving unwittingly closer to him as I blinked rapidly at the sudden bright light, the soft buzz of conversation, and clinging flutes of champagne that greeted us.

• • • • •

Draco: “Someone was paying attention.”

I smirked at him as we headed up the steps and were seen in, turning my steely gaze to the room, which was mildly packed with people milling about here and there.

“Come on then.”

I murmur, leading the way into the exhibition room, moving around slowly, my gaze falling on different pieces that had all been donated to the organization. Eventually we happened upon a podium bearing a place card stating the following:

‘Into the arbitrary’
Collection donated by:
D. Malfoy

It was three pieces, none of which Potter had set eyes on. A large canvas mottled with dark colors that swirled into various frightful images when the viewer drew too near and smoothed into darkly beautiful scenery when merely gazed upon from a safe distance; A smaller canvas that appeared stark white upon first viewing, the image that eventually bled through was that of a field of brown eyed Susan’s, that seemed trampled by an invisible force. The third was a squat sculpture, brilliantly gold and orange with tiny bits of brown dappled throughout.

I stood back and watched him through narrowed eyes as he studied each piece, blond brow twitching slightly with each renewed glint in his emerald eyes.

“well?”

My now customary inquiry when he was looking at something of mine, I was admittedly curious as to what he might have to say.

• • • • •

Harry: Lips curving into a bashful smile at his praise(?), I obediently fell into step with him, wide-eyed gaze roaming across the various pieces on display. So much talent. Mindful to not lose sight of Draco, I moved closer still - shoulders nearly brushing - as we weaved our way through the throng of art aficionados.

“Where is.. “

Murmuring softly, I came to a halt as we paused in front of a podium displaying Draco’s collection. Emerald eyes flickering about, my brows furrowed in a mixture of disappointment marbled with streaks of hope as I failed to locate the coveted glass sculpture. Could it be that he had saved it for me after all?

Suppressing a silly grin as a sudden giddiness rushed through me, I turned my attention to the three pieces, studying them carefully from each angle, emerald eyes positively alight with excitement as I managed to discover the various layers to the blond artist’s magical art.

I reached absently for a flute of champagne from a hovering tray nearby as I continued to drink in the art and the emotions they evoked in me. I had no intentions of drinking tonight - I only had one chance with Draco and I refused to have a repeat of our previous date - I merely wished for something to occupy my twitching fingers that itched to ghost across the canvases or caress the golden sculpture.

Feeling his eyes burning in my back, his single question demanding my attention, I chanced a glance over my shoulder at him, a small smile curling my lips as I watched him crossing his arms, brow shifting as he, impatiently, awaited my reply.

“They’re beautiful, Draco.”

I began, gushing like a simpleton before inching closer to the largest of the two canvases, eyes slitted in concentrations as I murmured softly.

“This one.. It’s hauntingly beautiful from the distant but up close it’s frightening and ugly. It’s like people, you know.. Or rather our perception of them.. How someone can ‘seem’ wonderful and beautiful from a strangers view or on the outside but when you get to know them closer, they’re hateful and ugly.. their beauty marred by their ugliness..”

Trailing off, I raked my free hand through my hair, unsettling the raven locks impossibly, as I inched closer to the smaller of the two canvases.

“This gives me hope. It makes me feel that you can never be truly broken unless you permit others to break you..”

Sighing softly, I traced my fingers - mere inches above the canvas, but nonetheless never touching - along a lonely Brown-Eyed Susan, its crimson stem bent unnaturally, the shading appearing as oozing blood.

“Did you know that Brown-Eyed Susans are survivors? They can re-pollenate an area without any intervention seasons after one spreads their seeds in the first place.. They may appear as if they’re gone, but they will always find a way to come back.. to survive.. no matter what..”

I placed the untouched flute on a nearby tray as I moved to the squat golden sculpture, leaning forward to admire it further.

“This is just a wingless snitch.. one who flew too close to the sun on waxen wings and was left burned and changed forever.. “

I offered, a wry smile curving my lips as I straightened and turned around to face the blond.

“They’re all amazing, Draco.. but, tell me, please.. what happened to the glass sculpture you were working on before? Where is that?”

I whispered urgently, desperate to know the fate of the piece that had arrested my interest so acutely at first sight, not much unlike the present company.

• • • • •

Draco: I listened to him talk of each of the pieces in turn, a barely perceptible nod here and there, but otherwise unreadable. I didn’t know what to think of him, and I was a pretty damn good judge of character. Part of me couldn’t help but think he was talking just to talk, telling me what he thought I wanted to hear. But the other part of me, the part that knew who he was and where he’d come from couldn’t agree with that idea.

My mask cracked when he inquired about the filigree sculpture and I smirked, brow quirking slightly.

“I never finished it.”

I replied simply, shrugging a single shoulder, only just. I scooped up a champagne glass from a passing tray, lips curving into a smirk around the rim of the glass, silver gaze still fixed on him.

“Come on,”

I said, nodding my head and leading him onto the next donated pieces. I wandered around the large room with him, viewing the company my art was to be keeping rather fascinated with how eager he was to describe everything he took in with great detail.

There as a short dedication speech from the founders and a toast, for which I pressed a goblet of champagne into his hand and offered him a knowing grin.

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

I winked at him and chuckled under my breath, downing the remainder of my goblet before abandoning the empty glass on another passing tray.

“If you’re finished drooling over the art we can go, I think I’ve fulfilled my obligation.”

My eyes wandered around the room as I spoke, waiting for the reply I was certain would come.

• • • • •

Harry: My lips curved into an easy smile at his words, the idea of owning another exquisitely beautiful work of the blond’s was too heady a thought at the moment. Offering him an excited nod, I vowed to inquire further about the filigree sculpture before the night’s end as we began to view the large collection that had been donated to the Apsley House, an easy conversation flowing between us. I had never been so mesmerized with art as I was now. It was truly amazing how various expressions of human creative skills and imagination managed to capture one’s heart.. to move you in ways words never could.

“I won’t.”

I murmured, far more at ease around the blond than I had been at the start of this evening as my fingers curled around the flute of champagne he offered me and I found myself toasting along side the rest of the patrons, my brilliant emerald eyes flicking to the blond repeatedly, irresistible to the charisma and charm he was exuding.

“I’m all yours, Draco.”

I murmured shyly as I placed my empty flute on a hovering tray, turning to face the blond, eager for what the night had still in store for us.

• • • • •

Draco: “Good.”

I reply, lips curving with a smirk.

“Come on, then.”

I motion towards the exit and lead the way, fingers plucking the silver cigarette case from my trouser pocket the moment we step outside. I pause on the steps long enough to press the white paper stick between my lips and light it, inhaling with a soft sigh before hopping off the last step.

I headed down the street again, slowing enough for him to fall in to step beside me, casting sidelong glances at him now and again.

I couldn’t help but ponder how me might react to our next destination and I smirked to myself around the cigarette that was fixed between my lips.

“Tell me something interesting, Potter.”

I asked, eyes flicking here and there as we headed back towards downtown. I rarely apparated unless I had to, and he didn’t seem to mind..

• • • • •

Harry: Glancing one last time at the donated collection, I followed him towards the exit, easily falling into steps with him as we began heading back to the heart of the Alley. He intrigued me. I always imagined most purebloods shying away from physical exertion of any kind, opting instead for the magical equivalent of it; yet, here we were, walking to our destination instead of apparating or portkeying. I was grateful, of course. I absolutely loathed any and all forms of magical traveling, with the exception of brooms..

“Something interesting..?”

I groaned inwardly, recalling our last date and the very same question posed at me. Brows furrowing in thought, I chanced a glance at him as I began regaling him with a colorful account of mistaken identity in Tibet during my years away from Wizarding Britain.

“What of you, Draco? What do ‘you’ do with your time when not engrossed in your art or prowling the nightlife, hm?”

I quipped, voice still shaking with suppressed mirth at the recollection of my tale.

• • • • •

Draco: I’m mildly amused by his tale of time he spent in Tibet and a sight chuckle escapes me as we walk, blond head shaking slightly.

“Better.”

I reply with a smirk, referring of course to his answer to my previously posed question.

“What of me?”

I ask back, quirking my brow at him but failing to elaborate any further.

“We’re going to cut through the Leaky.”

I inform him, heading down the main street towards the Leaky Cauldron. I pause outside the entrance and stub out my cigarette on the bottom of my shoe, banishing the filter and leading him inside. I offer the ancient barkeep the slightest of nods as we pass through, knowing full well who I’m in company with and hoping no ‘fans’ decide to chat him up.

“Still trust me?”

I ask, offering him a sly grin as we stand there, waiting for the entrance to part for us, granting us access to Muggle London, and more importantly, our next destination..

• • • • •

Harry: Shaking my head in fond amusement at his teasing praise, I opened my mouth to elaborate further on my question before snapping it shut again at his words. The Leaky Cauldron was one of the few places I had stealthily avoided as it was frequented by too many overly enthusiastic witches and wizards who would not hesitate to show their “adoration” of me in very very loud and unwelcome manners.

Sighing softly, I place my hand on his shoulder, stilling him as he was extinguishing his cigarette. Locking keen emerald eyes with his molten mercury, I call forth my magic wordlessly, and smooth my hand over my face, successfully altering my appearance enough to not be immediately recognized.

“This was the reason behind the case of mistaken identity.”

I quip with a small smile.

“It’s a requirement to maintain the healer’s privacy when tending to Azkaban inmates. It’s only temporary and unlike Polyjuice potion I can will it away when I have no further need of it.”

Grinning, emerald eyes alight with mischief, I step into Muggle London, relishing the anonymity the milling city brought about as I glance over my shoulder at him, hand smoothing away the Glamour.

“Always.”

I call back, nearly bouncing on my feet in excitement, ready to embrace the night and whatever adventure the slyly grinning blond had in mind for me.

• • • • •

Draco: I smirk and offer him a small nod as he wordlessly casts the glamour, it’s a rather brilliant trick, actually.

“Well, that certainly served it’s purpose.”

I muse as we step out into Muggle London, offering him a sidelong grin as I head off towards the city. We walked for a while, mild conversation falling between us as we slowly made our way into the bustling and glowing district. I might be a Malfoy, but even I knew that sometimes, Muggles just got it right.

“Here we are.”

I announced as we came up on the tail end of a massive line of people, all waiting for entry into a large warehouse looking building that seemed to be positively quivering with the dull thud of music. I breezed past every single one of those Muggles, hands stuffed into trouser pockets and a smug smirk plastered on my face. When I reached the small rope at the entrance I grinned at the large muscular man standing guard, hand sliding out of pocket to shake his.

“Evening, Nicky.”

I said to the larger man, my hand currently swallowed in his massive one. To the average person this was merely a friendly exchange between a painfully attractive blond and a man large enough to have Muggles questioning their fables on giants, which it was, in a sense.

“This is Potter.”

I add, nodding my head to my right with a grin. In a moment my hand was released and the rope was pulled aside, allowing us both entry into the building.

“Give Misch my love.”

I added as we passed, winking at the man as I tugged open the door and shoved Potter inside.

“You won’t find this in Diagon Alley.”

I said, leaning in close enough that my lips ghosted over his ear. It was a required form of speaking in places like this, if you expected to be heard.

“Come on,”

I added, fingers closing around his wrist and pulling him farther into the massive building, towards the bar at the back of the place. The entire building seemed to be occupied by music, it was pressing against every wall, every moist body, every sense that you possessed, demanding your attention. People everywhere had long since surrendered to it, some standing some sitting, some dancing. No matter their position everyone here was of the same purpose.

Yes, sometimes, the Muggles certainly got it right..

• • • • •

Harry: I did not know what to expect as we came to a halt outside of a large factory-sized building in the heart of Muggle London. My gaze roamed across the scantly dressed Muggles forming a line outside of the establishment, teeth worrying lip as I fidgeted with the forest green shirt I wore, emerald eyes moving to the leather-clad men and my own seemingly in comparison modest attire.

Hastening my steps, I paused beside Draco, having enough time to offer a small smile to the large man in charge of the entrance before I was shoved inside the building.

“Oh.”

I felt the smallest of tremors course through my body as the blond’s breath teased my senses, his words ringing in my ear as I followed him further inside the massive open space.

The place had the rough industrial look of a warehouse, with suspended wooden pallets hanging from crude chains, housing scantly clad women and men writhing against each other. The light pulsing to the beat of the booming music created illusionary shapes across the barren walls as we forced our way through the throng of dancing people to the large bar at the back of the vast hall.

“Draco.. ‘m not so sure ‘bout this.”

I breathed against his ear, body pressed to his side, feeling utterly out of place. I had never once been “out;” dancing or otherwise, and I feared I would embarrass the blond with my lack of knowledge.

• • • • •

Draco: I could feel his hesitation as I tugged him through the crowd towards the bar, it made me smirk with smug satisfaction.

“Good, because we both know what happens when you are ‘sure’ about something.”

I pause and turn back to him, leaning close to his ear again to be heard. He smells clean like soap and a vision of him meticulously scrubbing every inch of his body came to mind and I smirked again.

I marched right up to the bar, waving at the girl behind the bar as she moved towards us. “Zelda, my love!” I shouted, leaning over and planting a kiss on both her cheeks. She smirked and returned the affection, eyeing Potter with a sharply arched brow before exchanging a knowing look with me.

“This is Potter, give him something magical.”

I winked at her and she nodded her head, quickly reaching for three glasses and lining them up. I glanced sidelong at Potter, who looked torn between wonder and horror as he watched her expertly pour numerous bits of this and that into the glasses. When she was satisfied she slid a bright green glass of liquid that appeared to be glowing towards Potter, offering him an encouraging smile. She handed me a glass of clear and kept the third for herself, it was after all, my golden rule.

“Bottoms up.”

I said, clinking my glass with Potter and then Zelda before tipping it back effortlessly. Moments later I was slamming the glass back on the bar, sharing a laugh with Zelda who was mouthing something about the green goddess and nudging Potter.

“Thanks, Love.”

I pressed several notes into her hand and winked at her again before turning my attention back to Potter.

“Come on Potter.”

I said, fingertips brushing is forearm before sliding over his shirt and finding his hand, which I slid into mine. My lips lingered near his throat for a moment, so close I could feel the baby fine hairs standing on end and tickling my lips. A soft laugh escaped me and I pulled back, turning and leading him towards the middle of the room.

I would see him undone, one way..or another.

• • • • •

Harry: Swallowing hard, I could feel my cheeks tinge at his words. True. Last time I had been fairly certain about horseback riding after our date and—

I hardly had enough time to finish my chastising thoughts before I was watching in absolute horror, eyes widened impossibly as the barkeep prepared a concoction of Merlin knows what that turned an iridescent green, the color of the floo as it swept you away, the color of the deathliest of all curses as it sped towards you, and offered it to me.

Emerald eyes still widened saucer-like as my fingers curled around the small glass, I turned to eye the blond, lips parting to form an objection before thinking better of it. Inclining my head sharply to Zelda and Draco, eyes clenched tightly, I downed the indubitably potent drink in one gulp, blinking in surprise at the faint taste of apples. I could certainly grow to enjoy that.

Lips curving into a pleased smile at my discovery, I offered a grateful smile to the barkeep as I felt him drawing near to me again. Soot black lashes fluttered madly in accord to the arhythmic tattoo of my racing heart as his lips lingered near my throat. I could feel my body quivering as his breath ghosted my ear, his fingers dancing across my arm only to link with my own.

Breath catching, I cast one last glance at the smirking barkeep as I was tugged along towards the dance floor. Merlin. This was not happening. I could not… Memories of the Yule Ball during our forth year, of professor McGonagall directing our steps, of the disastrous evening with Patil crowded me much alike the sticky bodies pressing against me from all sides as we made our way forward to the very heart of the room..

Merlin..

• • • • •

Draco: I could feel his resistance, tugging faintly against my hand, wanting to turn back and yet not quite sure. I ignored it, this was my time. He’d had his chance to have things his way and failed; now it was my turn.

I whipped around to face him once we’d reached the center of the floor, immediately pressing impossibly close to him, mouth once more finding his ear.

“Just let go.”

I murmured, fingers walking up his chest and dipping beneath his jacket; gliding up over his shoulders and forcing it down over his arms. It fell on the ground and I didn’t care, I didn’t let him care either. My hands slid down his arms, his sides, and fingers hooking in belt loops and tugging him close enough to block out everything in his immediate vision but my face.

“Let go.”

I repeated, lips curving into a sly smirk before I released him. I raised my arms up over my head and let my eyes fall shut, allowing the music entry. There was not a trace of my former self here; I was more than comfortable with leading by example. It was so easy to lose yourself in the anonymity of a place like this, he just needed a little prodding and a little direction, I was certain of it.

“Come here,”

I shouted, doubtful that he could even hear me. The lights and the music had a way with taking every sense you thought you had a handle on and twisting it into something you scarcely recognized. My hands found his body again, touching everywhere, pressing against him here and there, attempting to mold him into something neither one of us might recognize. I could see the mild terror just behind his eyes and I smirked, wondering if he’d realized what was happening to him yet.

Shouldn’t be long now..

Lady Gaga: Heavy Metal Lover

• • • • •

Harry: “Draco.. I..”

Breath catching, emerald eyes filled with trepidation roaming the sea of writhing bodies surrounding us, I nearly crashed into the blond as he turned around unexpectedly and once more stole my breath away as he pressed close to me, body nearly flushed with mine, breath ghosting my ear as he urged me to let go. How could I let go? I had always been forced to stay in control. To curb my emotions, my senses, my very being. I had been punished for letting go. Others had been punished when I had let go. One only needed to look at my life to see that letting go was never an option.

And, now.. this man.. this erstwhile rival of mine was set on having me unravel.. to see my resolve and control shatter.. this man whose finger pads scorched my flesh through layers of fabric and cloth.. whose smile weakened my knees.. this man.. this man.. Draco..

Inky lashes fluttering shut briefly, I slid my eyes open as my jacket pooled around my feet, and I was tugged forward, lips a breath away from the other and gazed deeply into his stormy silver orbs, finding salvation and redemption, absolution and clemency.. if only I let go..

I watched him loosing himself to the music, to the sea of writhing sweaty scantly clad bodies around us, to the beat of life, and I wanted that.. I wanted him.. I wanted that reckless abandon he exuded.. I wanted.. I wanted.. I wanted to let go..

So, when I saw his lips forming words, when his body pressed against mine again, when his hands teased and guided me, I finally let go..

Inky lashes sliding shut, I abandoned everything I knew, and submitted to his ministrations, body slowly swaying to the trance-like music demanding our attention.. our submission.. feeling the rhythm move me, awaken me, calling for me..

And, this was a calling I had no intention of missing..

• • • • •

Draco: There was a brief moment when I thought I might not win, but as with most things, it was fleeting. I saw the shift in his expression and I smirked, undefeated.

After that it was all instinct. My hands were never far from his body; at least one of them was always within arm’s reach. The crowd swelled around up, forcing us closer on all sides. I tall brunette was pressing up behind him and I smirked, pushing him back into the others sweaty form, pressing closer to his front and keeping him sandwiched between. The dance floor was a place of freedom and discovery, self or otherwise. There were hands all over him now, every one of them wanted a piece of him, and I let them.

It was good for him.

I disappeared into the throng of people for a moment, my gaze never wandering too far as I watched him, silently pleased that he hadn’t fled yet. There as a certain appeal in his, I could see it, slightly more now than even last week.

I wanted to see more.

He was moving against the people that surrounded him, leaning into every caress, every thrust against him. I grinned and moved closer once again, pressing against his chest and leaning in against close to his ear, only this time I didn’t speak.

The slight convulsion I felt ripple through his body as I ran my tongue up the line of his throat pulled a smirk from me and I let out a breathy chuckle, turning and twisting with the relentless beat.

• • • • •

Harry: Glazed emerald eyes, languidly slitted, remained locked with molten mercury throughout the night. The music pressed on me, it coursed through me and suddenly it was all that mattered. My body moved on its own accord, leaning greedily into each and every caress, each stroke, each brush, each touch..

It encouraged them, lured them closer, hips swaying, arms high over my head, fingers carding through sweaty locks, twisting in silken strands, dragging along chiseled abs, cupping rounded flesh. My sticky flesh pressed into the hard bodies surrounding me, grinding, gyrating, moving to a beat unlike any other.

I glanced up as I felt a new form pressing against my chest, glazed emerald eyes boring into silver, as the blond leaned impossibly close to me. Somewhere in my alcohol and perhaps drug addled mind, I recalled that this was his way of speaking to me, of making himself heard, thus, I tilted my head, attempting to better hear him, when he nearly had me undone as I felt his tongue running along my throat, causing my body to tremble in delight.

At some point my shirt had come undone, and as my slitted eyes bore into the stormy silver orbs watching me, my body leaned into the talented mouth latched to my hardened nub, drawing a sharp hiss from me. I could feel another firm body pressing impossibly close behind me as my head dropped back on his shoulder, eyes staring unseeingly into the pulsating lights, one hand fisted into the damp strands of the woman in front of me while the other reached back to press against a perfectly shaped bottom, encouraging it closer to me.

The music had me in its thrall, submerging my senses in a haze, taking control and leading me on.. heightening one sense only to dull the other.. and throughout it all, I had never felt so free as I did on this night..

• • • • •

Draco: I was lost in a sea of bodies, everything was hands and sweat and the unrelenting beat that swelled in all of us. It was exactly where I wanted to be and for a while I thought of nothing, not even him.

He was in good hands, whomever they might be.

When I did manage a glance in his direction I couldn’t help but take pause as I watched. He scarcely resembled the Potter I’d unwittingly led in here a short while before. He looked positively wild with his shirt thrown open and his hair hanging in sweat soaked sections across his face. He was surrounded by his own swarm of bodies, all clawing at him for a piece, as if they could perhaps feel his magic and were desperate for a taste.

I crossed the floor towards him, sliding against one sweaty body after another, fingertips raking along unfamiliar forms as I drew closer to him, eyes fixed on him, noting the way he seemed so utterly lost.

And for the first time since we’d met at his townhouse I wanted that.

And I always get what I want.

I slid between the bodies that moved around him, reaching for him, fingers curling around his wrist and tugging him close enough that he was forced up against my front. The people around us seemed to understand that he belonged to me and willingly surrendered him and as his eyes slid open and hazy emerald orbs bore into me I slipped around the back of his neck and pulled him close enough to close my mouth over his, bodies still moving to the music that refused to still.

Alexandra Stan: Mr. Saxobeat

• • • • •

Harry: My body undulated to the thumping rhythm of the music, lost in a sea of unfamiliar emotions. She was the mistress - relentless and demanding - owning the night; and I was utterly in thrall to her, willingly submitting, releasing my petty concerns to bask in her otherworldly beauty.

Somewhere along the night I had lost Malfoy to the writhing forms grinding and moving against me. Had I been more cognizant I would have been concerned, but as it was I had lost myself as well.

I was positively free.

Dropping my head back in supplication, glazed emerald eyes slid shut as my body throbbed and pulsated to the music, barely aware of the grinding hard form behind me, or the nails raking my exposed torso, nor the tongue lapping at the sensitive skin of my throat, worshiping the sticky pale expanse of unmarred flesh.

Amidst it all, I felt fingers wrapping around my wrist and yanking me against a hard chest. I went willingly, just as I had the entire night. I was lost in a high and I never wished to come down. There was a demanding determination in the fingers curled around my wrist, an intensity in the way they held to me, and I slowly slid my glazed emerald eyes open to peer at the one who managed to rouse me from my elation.

My eyes widened perceptibly, staring into Malfoy’s molten mercury orbs, lost in their stormy depths as he pressed impossibly close, our swaying bodies fitting perfectly, before crushing his lips to mine.

I could feel the world stilling around me. A collective breath held to match the one the blond stole from me. A soft sigh escaped me and I sank into the sensual kiss, soot black lashes fluttering frenetically, matching the arrhythmic tattoo of my heart. My free hand that had settled on his shoulder inched upwards to tangle in dampened flaxen locks, fisting into them as my lips parted to permit the incessant tongue entry.

This was bliss and I never wished to give it up.

• • • • •

Draco: I could feel him weaken beneath my touch, his body melted against me without so much as a fight and I welcomed it. I wanted him, and I fully intended to have him.

He opened for me willingly, so ready to give me whatever I wanted, of course I took it. My tongue ran across his lips, drug over the tops of his teeth and swirled against the inside of his cheeks and the roof of his mouth. I pressed against him, taking as much of him as I figured he could handle before releasing him, a smirk playing on my lips, solitary brow arched sharply.

“Play.”

I said, doubting he heard me as I pushed him back into the swarm of people that were moving all around us, waiting to consume. I backed away from him, satisfied with the nameless Muggles that welcomed him back into their folds, dragging him back down to find that one elusive emotion that he’d been lacking for so long.

And I left him there.

I didn’t leave the club, but I did weave my way back towards the bar, smirking at a very amused looking Zelda who already had two drinks lined up and waiting for me.

“You have -no- idea, love.”

I say through a chuckle, shaking my head as I cast a glance over my shoulder at the dance floor, watching Potter for a moment with the Muggles before I turned back to Zelda and scooped up my drink, clinking the small glass with hers. I poured the liquid down my throat and promptly dropped the glass on the bar, pressing enough notes into her hand for an entire line of drinks. She smirked at me before heading down the bar to tend to someone else and I watched her for a moment before turning around and leaning my back against the bar, Watching Potter on the dance floor.

• • • • •

Harry: I sagged into the all consuming kiss, utterly lost to the heady sensations, the way his lips moved sensually against mine, the way his tongue delved deep inside my mouth, causing my breath to catch with each determined swipe against the roof of my mouth.

My blood pulsated with the music, my magic sang with the blond’s, sensing the only magical being in the vast space, heightening the sensations. I whimpered pitifully as he pulled back, swallowing hard as I gasped for breath, glazed emerald eyes searching his dancing mercury orbs, utterly befuddled as he pressed the heel of his palm against my sticky chest, urging me back into the welcoming arms of the dancing crowd.

My bewilderment merely lasted for a moment before the Mistress of the night demanded my attention. I was but a thrall of hers, ready to submit anew. Lips curved into a devilish smile, I shrugged off my sweat drenched shirt, allowing it to fall as I raised my arms high up in the air, body once more undulating to the unrelenting beat of the music.

I was free.

I was Harry.

Just Harry.

• • • • •

Draco: I leaned against that bar for a while, Zelda brought another round, reading my mind in that way that bartenders had about them. I downed the new drink, thanking her and paying her, eyes lazily moving over the crowd, never letting Potter fully out of my sight. He looked out there, almost natural; I was mildly surprised by that fact.

A change in the music signaled my chance and I pushed away from the bar, winking at the ever lurking Zelda as I headed back towards Potter, weaving in and out of moving bodies. I took my time, pausing to move along with whoever dared reach out.

I could see him, just ahead, caught in a pool of sweat and limbs, his hair was drenched, clinging to his face and forehead; I’ve never seen it so..flat. I was mildly amused. I moved on from the Muggles I was was dancing with, closing the distance between us, just watching the way he was. He had this way about him, he probably didn’t even realize what he was doing; perhaps that was the sheer beauty of it.

“Having fun?”

I leaned in, fingers hooking his belt loops and tugging him close enough to shout in his ear. He was sticky and felt like he was on fire but I scarcely noticed. I might not have admitted it then, but his unwitting way was affecting me too.

• • • • •

Harry: I cannot recount the number of lips that brushed against my sticky flesh, soft lips moving sensually against my parted ones, firm lips pressing demandingly, nipping, nibbling, licking anywhere and everywhere they reached.. Somewhere in the furthest reaches of my mind, I could see myself shielding my eyes in utter horror at my scandalous behavior but I could not find it in myself to care.. To stop.. To draw back and curl up behind the recently shattered shields protecting me from life itself.

I could, however, despite the heady sensation the music ignited in me, tell the exact moment He was there. The exact moment he tugged me away from the undulating bodies pressed against me. The exact moment he spoke in my ear, his sweet breath ghosting my flesh, causing me to tremble perceptibly

I do not pretend to have understood him, so lost was I to the intoxicating aura surrounding the blond, that all I could do was to nod mutely, leaning impossibly close to him, desperate for another of those mind blowing kisses he had deigned to bestow upon me earlier..

“What have you done to me?”

I murmured huskily - my voice unrecognizable in my own ears - more to myself than to the smirking blond, as I continued swaying to the music, easily matching his rhythm.

• • • • •

Draco: “I’ve merely given you the tools.”

I reply simply, lips hovering mere meters from the shell of his ear. I’m not quick to let him go, I find that I rather like his sweaty form pressed up against me and I move with him, our bodies connected in so many places it’s hard to tell if we are merging or coming apart.

“You like it,”

I hiss, neck stretching just enough that my lips twitch over his heated flesh. I can feel his body quivering beneath my touch and I smile, satisfied.

“Admit it.”

I add, finger curling into his belt loops a bit tighter, forcing our bodies so tightly together that nothing remains between them.

His skin slides against me and I blink slowly, one hand abandoning the trouser loops to snake around him, pressing sharply into his spine.

“Let’s get out of here.”

I say behind a smirk, pulling back to gauge the response in his eyes properly.

• • • • •

Harry: Breath catching, I felt my heart racing as he pulled me flushed against him, my bare torso gliding sinfully against his clothed one, a sharp hiss spilling from my parted kiss swollen lips at the tantalizing feel of the play of muscles against me, my hips pressing firmly into his as the music demanded, urged me, us, to continue with the alluring dance.

“I do.. Very much so..”

I whispered breathlessly against his cheek, hands boldly moving to link around his neck, finger pads ghosting the sliver of bare sticky flesh at his nape as I tilted my head towards him, breathing hotly against his neck, mouth suddenly dry as I felt him pressing firmly against me.

Please..

Please.. Yes..

“Yesss..”

I finally murmured in response, releasing a shuddering breath and swaying unsteadily forward as he drew back from me; trembling at the loss of his form.

I wanted.

I wanted so much more.

I wanted him.

• • • • •

Draco: My lips curved with a smirk and I easily released him, closing my fingers around his wrist and turning, leading him slowly through the masses. My body slid against countless nameless Muggles, fingers searched and lingered and I scarcely noticed, my grip remained firmly latched onto the other, so he didn’t lose his way.

I paused at the bar long enough to lay over the top of it, swallowing the lithe bar tend in an embrace that she pretended not to enjoy every second of. /behave yourself/ she murmured quietly in my ear. “Never.” I whispered back, grinning innocently at her as we broke apart. She shook her head at me and then waved goodbye to Potter with a look that said she knew a lot more than she let on.

“Come on, Potter.”

I shouted, heading for the exit and taking him along still. I pushed through the door and the cool night air hit me like a ton of bricks. My moist skin instantly began to chill and I smiled, pleasantly intoxicated to the point that it didn’t matter as much as it perhaps should have.

I released him as we set off down the street, opting to reach into my trouser pocket to retrieve my silver cigarette case. I eyed him sidelong as I lit the tip of my cigarette with my wand, smirking lightly.

“Alright there?”

I asked casually, tipping my head back and exhaling a mass of white smoke into the air.

• • • • •

Harry: My heart beat an arrhythmic tattoo as his fingers curled around my wrist, tugging me along the brimming dance floor, heedless to the undulating bodies surrendering us as he relentlessly made his way to the back of the vast room. A whispered goodbye to the quietly amused bartender and we were suddenly out in the chilled night.

Gasping softly, swaying just so as he released me, I wrapped my arms protectively around my heated flesh, barely cognizant that I stood there, shirtless, in the still milling London street.

“Dra..”

I paused, lost in the sensations of the light breeze against my body, in the way it danced through my damp locks.. Did the breeze always felt so tangible..? Did it tease you just so..?

Swallowing, my throat suddenly parched, I rushed to fall into steps with him, arms still wrapped tightly around my chest, thumbs caressing my flesh absently.

“I.. I feel so strange.. alive.. more attuned.. yet..”

Trailing off, I unwrapped my arms, a hand reaching out to curl around the thickening air around me. I could feel my breath catching as I forced the too thick air in my lungs.. I could feel it lodging in my chest.. nearly suffocating me..

Panicked, I reached out and slid my hand into his, hazed emerald eyes sliding nearly shut as I moved impossibly close to him. The heat of his body the only thing anchoring me at the moment.

Somewhere in the not too far distance, I could still hear the call of the mistress of the night. The sweet tantalizing music that had held me in its thrall throughout the night caressing me one last time before it drew back, releasing me from its grasp; setting me free.

For now.

“I feel brilliant!”

I declared softly, leaning against him, a lazy smile curving my lips.

• • • • •

Draco: My brow quirked at him when he finally spoke, a slight grin twitching my lips as I pressed the filter of my cigarette between them. Perhaps it had been wrong to allow Zelda to give him that particular drink, but I don’t think so. Wizard grade Absinthe is not as dangerous or hallucinogenic as its Muggle counterpart, but it still got the job done.

“Glad to hear it.”

I replied lightly, not missing the slight quiver of his muscles against me, nor the leaning gait.

“Come on.”

I urged, glancing down the deserted street as I stepped off the curb. The street we were on was practically deserted but I still led him towards the alley before disapparating, call it a habit.

I didn’t alert him it was coming I just did it, quickly taking us just beyond the apparition line surrounding his flat. He swayed on his feet when we landed and I my arm circled his waist, steadying him.

“Let’s get you inside.”

I murmured, mouth lingering close enough to kiss but never quite making purchase. I released him and allowed him to lead the way, knowing I should merely see him safely in and go, but unable to listen to my own smarting suggestions.

Just a few minutes, then I would go.

Probably.

• • • • •

Harry: Trembling lightly as we veered off of the busy main street into a much more deserted one, I leaned closer still against him, relishing the way his words rang into the quiet night, the slight puff of exhalation tainted heavily with white smoke as he tilted his head towards me. The lazy smile never leaving my lips, I matched my gait to that of his, head dropping to rest on his shoulder as he tugged me into a darkened alley.

I gasped sharply, swaying precariously, as my body was suddenly forced through a narrow tube, upsetting my balance and the contents of my stomach all in a blink of an eye.

“Shite!”

I cussed, leaning heavily against him as we landed outside the large townhouse in Hampstead, feeling the wards caress me invitingly, much alike the arms wrapping around me, pressing me close to a lean body, as my head dropped against his chest, battling inwardly with the lost equilibrium.

When the world stopped spinning around me, I glanced up, lips parted, breath mingled as he urged me to lead him inside. Nodding mutely, pupils blown, leaving the barest slivers of emerald, my gaze flicked slowly between his lips and the molten mercury orbs boring into my soul.

It would have been so easy.

Just a small shift, the tiniest forward motion and I could taste those lips again..

“Yess..”

I breathed, slipping my hand into his again as I drew back, releasing a shuddering breath and led him towards the sleek entrance, the door opening to my touch and closing behind us as we stepped inside the dimly lit hall.

• • • • •

Draco: I followed him across the barriers and up the steps, my feet pausing slightly as we entered his townhouse. I watched him carefully as the door swung shut behind us, a slight twitch in my brow.

“You should get a shirt, since you seem to have lost yours.”

I smirked at him, leaning slightly against the back of the door, watching him.

• • • • •

Harry: Letting go of his hand as he paused on the threshold, leaning languidly against the door, I turned around to face him, arms wrapping once more around my bare chest; swaying just enough to miss his supporting arms around me.

“Oh..”

I murmured, blinking slowly as his words registered with me. I could literally feel my cheeks tinging beneath his amused gaze.

“I..”

Sinking my teeth in kiss swollen lip, I glanced down at my bare torso; arms unwrapping and sliding into my back pockets in an effort to restrain any and all fidgeting; barely aware of the picture I painted with flushed cheeks, peaked rosy nubs, taut abdomens, snug leather pants riding just below sharp hipbones..

“My closet is all the way upstairs..”

I whispered, glancing up at him through my utterly disheveled fringe, voice tainted with non too small amount of hope that he would accompany me up to the lavish bedroom suite expanding the entire second floor of the townhouse.

• • • • •

Draco: I chuckled lightly at his words, lips curving into an amused smirk.

“Need assistance up that dreadful flight of stairs, do you?”

I quipped, pushing away from the door and closing the space between us.

“Come on then.”

I murmur, arm sliding around his waist, the chill of his skin resting against my arm pulling a slight shiver from me.

I lead him up the stairs, fingers curling into his waist, steadying him, free hand bracing self on the wall as we took them one at a time. When we reached the top I led him towards his bedroom, already knowing its location after having visited here weeks previous.

“Here you are.”

I say into the barely lit room, hand slowly unwinding from him, releasing him.

• • • • •

Harry: Merely offering a lazy smile at his suggestion, I nodded. Once. Twice. Before groaning softly, nose wrinkling in displeasure as the world shifted around me anew.

“Bloody hell!”

I whimpered, leaning heavily against him, relishing the way he quivered against me as we worked our way up the winding staircase to the second floor.

“Mhmm..”

I murmured quietly, spinning around to face him, glazed emerald eyes lingering on his parted lips as I took the smallest step closer to him, shivering as I felt the warmth emanating from his body caressing my chilled one.

“Here we are..”

There was no mistaking the lust and want in my voice as I tilted my face, just so, pressing my lips to his in a clumsy kiss.

• • • • •

Draco: I didn’t deny him his kiss, in fact, I welcomed it. I am not chivalrous, I know what I want and I have no problems taking it. But this was different, I had done this to him.

My fingers traced over his bare skin, my mouth moving over his own, tongue tracing the edge of his lips, scraping over his teeth. My hands moved around him, fingertips pressing into his spine, spurring him a bit closer. My teeth sank into his bottom lip, much like his own often did, a soft sound escaping and causing me to smirk. It wasn’t long before my fingers were moving again, working the fastenings of his trousers effortlessly, parting the fabric and guiding it down over slim hips.

“You don’t need these.”

I murmur against his lips, pushing them down until they slide the rest of the way, steadying him as he steps out of them. My mouth finds his once more and I claim it, tongue sweeping every inch that it can reach. I guide him backwards, inching him carefully towards the bed until his the backs of his legs are up against it. He’s stale and sweaty but I scarcely notice, he tastes like something that I want, that I simply must have.

And I will.

• • • • •

Harry: Soot black lashes fluttering frenetically, I leaned heavily against him, relishing the play of muscles beneath his shirt as his fingers pressed into me, urging me closer still.

“Mmm..”

I whimpered softly into the heady kiss, arms wounding around him, forearms coming to rest on his shoulders, steadying him, steadying myself as he practically devoured my mouth, all tongue, teeth, and lips, drawing a needy moan from me.

“Please..”

I mewled, as his fingers unfastened my trousers. I could feel yet another blush spreading across my features, working its way down my throat as I stepped out of the sticky leather trousers, kicking off shoes and socks simultaneously to face him in all my naked glory.

I had never felt this alive.

I had never wanted so much.

I pressed my highly aroused body into his, grinding ever so slowly against him as claimed my mouth anew, drawing yet another whimper from me. I could feel my body screaming for more. More of the scorching finger pads dancing across my heated flesh. More of the firm body pressing against mine, teasing me, urging me on. More of the dominating tongue battling my own, dragging across each and every surface of my mouth. More of him. More. Just more.

Draco..

I called in my head, my voice lost, my breath lodged in my throat as I fell back onto the large platform bed, pulling the blond down atop me, mouth never parting.

• • • • •

Draco: I knew things were escalating quickly, I wasn’t stupid. He fell back on the bed, taking me with him and I sighed inwardly, knowing this had to end before it was at a point I couldn’t bear to walk away from.

“Here,”

I murmured, shifting off of him and inching the duvet out from beneath his sprawled form.

“Get in.”

I added, holding it up while he slowly squirmed beneath the thick comforter. I lay it down atop him and sit on the edge of the bed next to him, reaching to brush stray sections of his hair from his eyes.

“You need to sleep.”

I murmur, leaning over him, pressing an open mouthed kiss against the corner of his mouth. I could see the hazy confusion in his eyes, could see that he deeply wanted to protest but didn’t have the clear mind to do so. I smiled, quickly standing and shaking my head fondly.

“Miss me.”

I added with a grin, winking at him before turning away and heading towards the door. I didn’t look back, it wasn’t my style and I didn’t need the temptation. as I reached for the door my eyes moved to the corner of the room towards the large window, a tall elegant filigree sculpture sprouting from the ground and reaching upwards and out. I hadn’t donated the piece but I couldn’t keep it either; I had known it belonged to him the moment he first laid eyes on it.

And now it was.

I let myself out of his house and headed towards the edge of the wards where I would disapparate, slipping my silver cigarette case from my pocket and quickly lighting a cigarette. My silver gaze flickered up to his bedroom window as I turned on my heel and disappeared, turning up at my studio moments later.

I wouldn’t be sleeping for several hours yet. It seems I had another date to keep this night. One with my Muggle iPod and a fresh canvas.

It was good.

• • • • •

Harry: Whimpering softly in protest as he drew back, I gazed up at him in confusion, not quite understanding why his lips were no longer pressed against mine.

“Wha..?

I murmured, shifting slightly and lifting my body obediently as he tugged the comforter down, urging me beneath it. I did, of course, just like I had the entire evening. I was completely and utterly pliable in his hands, willing to go to the edge of the world and back.. if there were no staircases involved of course and if the world stopped shifting so very much.

“But..”

I frowned softly as my head fell back onto the pillow; eyes growing heavy as the seconds passed and the easy-sleep charm infused in the pillows, a necessity for any healer, tugged at my senses, wrapped along my muscles, relaxing me, urging me towards the threshold of the land of Nod.

I’ll miss you..

Lips moving to form words, words that were left unspoken as my eyes slid closed, I felt his hand caressing my face, as I finally succumbed to the call of Morpheus and the charm fully devoured me, rendering me insensate to the world.

3. The Gallery

Harry: Three days later, I found myself riffling through a mass of parchments littered across the desk in my office on the second floor of the town house. It was Saturday and I was determined to pay Malfoy a visit.

Upon returning home that night, I had discovered that Cranston had successfully completed the immense task of furnishing the vast town house in less than twenty-four hours. Everything looked impeccable. Modern lines with hints of eastern design lent the place an understated elegance. I had specifically asked for clean simplicity, and of course having spend three years in the Eastern hemisphere, I enjoyed marrying that heritage and experience into my current home.

Surprisingly, or perhaps not so, as Cranston had truly outdone himself, Malfoy’s work fit in quite effortlessly with the rest of the design. The canvas decorating the wall opposite the large platform bed was the last and first thing my eyes landed upon when in bed.. That, of course, always brought the artist in question to the forefront of my mind…

In three short days, the blond had, thus, successfully managed to work himself beneath my skin, always present, always brushing my thoughts, whispering in my ear, piercing me with his intense silver gaze…

“Yes..”

I hissed out as I finally succeeded in locating the appropriate parchment with the coordinates to the Malfoy Studio in London. A wide smile broke across my face as I committed the address to memory and strode out of the office. Descending the stairs, I walked to the sitting room to collect my hastily discarded coat; and, as it had been wont since the first day, I found myself running my finger pads across the large vase and marvel at the scene revealing itself to me.

It had been quite a shock the first time the paint parted and swirled to play out the events of that pivotal night so many years ago; but, having watched it over and over and over again, I had come to accept and perhaps even understand why Malfoy had chosen to portray that particular… incident. It ‘had’ been a crucial experience in the lives of many wizards and witches; and, Malfoy had played the lead role that night.

Sighing softly to dispel of the morbid thoughts, I shrugged my coat on, and with one last glance cast over my shoulder at the looming vase, spun on my heels and apparated to Malfoy’s Studio, more eager to see the blond than what was perhaps appropriate to feel in regards to a former rival.

• • • • •

Draco: The second half of the week passed without incident, which was welcome, considering how busy I currently was. The Apsley House contemporary exhibition at the Wellington Museum was steadily approaching and I fully intended to have at least three pieces on display. I’d rarely had time to think of the events that had transpired between me and my former school rival at the front of the week, much less linger for any amount of time on the awkward exchange.

I was in my studio, wand waving in dramatic swirling motions, a filigree sculpture twisting to life before me, bare foot tapping on the dull scrubbed wooden floor to the beat of a hypnotic beat that filtered through ear buds that were attached to my very Muggle iPod in my back pocket. It had been a Christmas present from Pansy, her idea of a joke to gift me a Muggle electronic device. The joke ended up on her when I had taken a liking to it, I still smile every time I switched it on.

I paused, wand hand dropping to my side as my other hand fished a silver cigarette case from the front pocket of my loose fitting and very worn jeans that looked like they had seen better days. I pressed one of the white-papered sticks between my lips, lighting the tip with my wand and inhaling deeply. My eyes moved over my current work in progress, picking out blemishes and imperfections that would have to be dealt with. I circled around the sculpture which was beginning to resemble a large twisted tree trunk, eyes moving over every inch of it as I slowly smoked my cigarette; head tilting back to exhale large pools of white smoke over head each time. I paused where I had initially started, the finger of my wand hand hooking in my front pocket as I shifted from one bare foot to the other. The faded green jumper I was wearing was stained with paint, as were my jeans, which was often the case when I was working. My hair was a spectacular unruly mess, but even on my best days it hardly changed. I wasn’t expecting company, not by any means, but that wasn’t to say I would turn it away should it show up on my doorstep.

I raised my wand to the sculpture once again, wrist flicking delicately before my arm moved in a great swirling motion, cigarette dangling precariously from between my lips; utterly lost in my work.

• • • • •

Harry: I arrived at the posh residential area on the outskirt of London with the telltale sound of displaced air, softer than that of most, but still discernible if one knew what to listen for. I cast my bright emerald gaze to the surrounding neighborhood, consisting of multi-floored town houses; where my keen eyes soon narrowed in on the proper number and with a fortifying breath I stepped up to the building, forefinger depressing the small bell.

• • • • •

Draco: Sometime later I lowered his wand, smugly satisfied by the amount of shattered and broken material littering the floor around my work in progress. Half the fun was making the mess, besides it’s not like I had to clean it up.

I pressed another cigarette between my lips, lighting it before dropping my wand on the work table nearby. I heaved a satisfied sigh, fingers raking through my impossible mop of platinum hair. I reached up, pushing the thick black framed glasses up on my nose that I wore while I worked. I turned away from the sculpture, fingertips tapping my thigh in time to the music still blaring in my ears. A ball of light caught my attention and I glanced at a small glass orb perched in a stand, which was flashing brightly to garner my attention. The alert was my own creation, something I had found a need for after Pansy’s Muggle iPod had come into my life. One too many people sneaking up on me unexpectedly or simply leaving when I didn’t answer their calls at my door. Not any more.

I blinked at the flashing circle of light for a moment, wondering who on earth could possibly be calling on a Saturday afternoon. I padded across the wooden floor to the door and flung it open, fingertip pushing my sliding glasses once more up my nose, cigarette dangling precariously from my mouth.

“Potter?”

I asked(more loudly than normal, due to the loud music in my ears), wondering what the fuck Harry Potter was doing on my stoop.

• • • • •

Harry: Blinking rapidly at the sight of Malfoy appearing, framed by the doorway, in a paint spattered jumper and faded - too baggy - denim hanging low on slim hips, hair easily rivaling his own messy locks, and were those glasses? in front of me, I unwittingly took a small step back as the bold nearly shouted my name.

Perplexed emerald eyes catalogued the other’s form efficiently, lingering on the white, decidedly Muggle, ear buds nestled in the blond’s ears - yet another shocking discovery - and as understanding shone in my brilliant emerald eyes, I motioned towards my ears in acknowledgment of the other’s hearing impaired self, and waited with a small smile until the blond discarded the ear buds before greeting him.

“Malfoy.”

I flashed a lopsided grin at the blond as I shoved my suddenly fidgeting hands deep into my coat pockets; nearly swaying in place as I quietly rocked on my heels.

• • • • •

Draco: I plucked the ear buds from my ears, dropping them and letting them dangle around my neck, the faint sound of a hypnotizing beat blaring from them still. I regarded him curiously, seriously the last person I had expected to see when I opened the door.

“Lost your way?”

I asked with a smirk, leaning against the door and reaching up to pluck the cigarette from between my lips.

• • • • •

Harry: Twinkling emerald eyes lingered on the line of lean muscles, indolently leaning against the door frame, before glancing up to smirking lips and curious silver orbs watching me. Offering an easy smile, I shrugged imperceptibly, hands still in pockets.

“Not so much, no.”

I stated quietly, emerald gaze peering behind the blond’s form at the vast open space.

“I did say I wanted to see the rest of your collection, no?”

I rocked back on the balls of my feet, suddenly feeling rather young and nervous.

• • • • •

Draco: “I suppose you did.”

Replied with a nod, eyeing him a moment or two more, in no real hurry to move out of the doorway. I couldn’t help but smirk at his fidgeting, amused by the bouncing, to say the least.

“Well come in then.”

I said, shoving off the door frame and stepping inside with a overly dramatic sweeping gesture. I simultaneously pushed the glassed up on my nose and plucked the cigarette from my mouth, eyes following him as he crossed the threshold, closing the door behind them.

“You rang at a rather interesting moment.”

I say casually, stepping up beside him and gesturing towards the mess of broken bits strewn about beneath the unfinished sculpture. I slide up onto a stool and let him have a look; if he had questions I would answer them.

I was admittedly curious as to his thoughts on my work, for reasons yet unknown.

• • • • •

Harry: Emerald gaze never wavering, I made a valiant attempt at ceasing my rocking as I intentionally widened my stand, shifting my weight slowly from one foot to the other - my hands, however, I kept in my pockets. Offering a soft smile, I entered the large studio, eyes roaming each and every corner, taking notes of the many different pieces placed around the room, all in various stages on their path to perfection.

“Oh? However so?”

I glanced over my shoulder at Malfoy, perched over a stool as I stepped over broken shards of glass. Immediately stepping back, my wide emerald gaze flicked from the lounging blond to the glass filigree sculpture to the innumerable shards of glass littering the floor.

“What the…”

I trailed off softly, brows furrowing slightly in thought as I circled the clearly unfinished sculpture. Reaching out a hand to a particularly jagged section, I ran my thumb in utter fascination across the sharp piece, feeling rather like Aurora when facing the spindle, from one of the fairytales Muggle mothers read to their children at the Pediatric Ward of the Royal London Hospital.

I watched, utterly transfixed, as the crimson blood immediately welled up, forming a large drop on my thumb, maintaining its spherical shape for a long moment, as if suspended in time and space, before it landed on the glass strewn floor.

I glanced, slowly, from the surprisingly deep cut on my thumb to the many jagged edges of the sculpture, and suddenly it all became clear to me. Sometimes you needed to break things in order to make them better. Yes, similar to how, as a surgeon, I needed to break bones, cut into various organs, in order to make them better, so was everything else in life as well.. Including Malfoy’s art.

Peering closer still, thumb firmly between puckering lips, I could see the method to his madness… I could almost see it come together, just like the bones I broke fused together, the organs I cut into, knitted together, so would his glass sculpture. And, I knew.. Just knew.. That I wanted it.

• • • • •

Draco: I perched on my stool, watching him circle around the work in progress, solitary brow arching lazily, only mildly curious as to his thoughts. Now and again I would lift the cigarette to my lips, inhaling deeply from it, eyes narrowing slightly to avoid being stung my smoke.

Whatever his thoughts were, he was obviously very engrossed in them.

“Well?”

I asked finally, my voice resonating through the silence that was hanging in the room like a veil. I stubbed out my cigarette in a large emerald glass bowl on the worktable before turning my attention back to him, one leg crossing over the other, bare foot flexed and bobbing absently. I blinked at him, fully expecting to be underwhelmed by his response.

• • • • •

Harry: “I’ll take it!”

I replied immediately, turning around to face him, as I lapped at the injured thumb one last time before lowering it. Offering the blond an easy smile, I inclined my head at the glass filigree sculpture to emphasize my statement.

“I’d like it delivered to my office, however, if that is alright with you.”

I rushed out excitedly, closing the distance between us, emerald eyes shining in excitement.

“Do you have ‘any’ idea how absolutely perfectly that sculpture describes my work? How beautifully it relates the fact that sometimes you must break things in order to make them better? Do you, Malfoy? Do you?”

I gushed, unwittingly leaning forward, somewhere along my rambling; my hand had come to rest on the other’s knee.

• • • • •

Draco: I blinked at him, the smallest of smirks curling the corners of my mouth. His enthusiasm for the piece was surprisingly unexpected and I couldn’t help but wonder what he saw in the half finished sculpture, however misplaced it might be.

“It’s not for sale.”

I replied simply, blinking at him and offering him a lofty shrug. He was drawing near and I actually leaned back on the stool a little bit as he spoke, the intensity in his words was not missed.

Nor was the hand that rested on my knee, which my gaze flicked to briefly before returning to the wide emerald eyes hovering in front of me.

“It’s meant for the Wellington exhibition.”

I added, gesturing a nod towards the sculpture. I intended to have the piece on display for the art exhibition, but that wasn’t to say I wasn’t mildly intrigued by his intent want of it.

• • • • •

Harry: It took a few seconds for me to fully assimilate his words, and with realization came an acute sense of loss. My shoulders slumped in dejection. Something about the jagged glass sculpture spoke to me… It touched me… moved me… awoken me…

“Oh.”

I breathed out softly, the sound seemingly expanding around us, nearly cocooning us with its many meanings and connotations before dissipating.

“I see… but, what of after? After the exhibition?”

I inquired, forcing a nonchalant lilt, as I shifted my weight, one foot to the other, emerald gaze finally leaving the blonds’ mercury, only to come to rest upon my splayed hand resting on Malfoy’s knee. In something akin to instant replay, my widened emerald eyes moved from my hand to his silver orbs, and back for several moments, before I withdrew my hand with a sharp gasp, feeling heat tingeing my cheeks pink.

• • • • •

Draco: I couldn’t help but smirk just a bit at his obvious disappointment. It was curious to me, how affected he seemed by the sculpture. It wasn’t even finished, and as I cast a brief glance over his shoulder at it I frowned, it was far from perfection.

“It’s to be donated, to Apsley house.”

I turned my attention back to him, the corners of my mouth curving with the faintest of smirks. Perhaps it was cruel, but anyone wearing their emotions so clearly on their sleeves deserved it.

“Why?”

I blinked at him, brows rising in question.

“Why do you want it? What do you see when you look at it?”

My eyes narrowed slightly at him, genuinely curious as to his comments regarding the piece.

• • • • •

Harry: Taking a surreptitious step back… then another — to create enough space between myself and the smirking blond — I shoved my treacherous hands back in my pockets, all the while willing the blush tainting my cheeks away as I awkwardly averted my gaze.

“I see.”

I repeated my previous statement, feeling the same sense of loss at not being able to procure the glass filigree sculpture. Swallowing hard, I glanced back at the lounging blond, troubled emerald eyes peering intently at the slightly narrowed silver orbs. How could I explain something that I could not quite understand myself? The sculpture touched me in a way that seemed familiar, yet foreign… akin to the beloved touch of a sorely missed lover… familiar, yet foreign.

“I… I don’t know how to explain it, Malfoy…”

I murmured softly, emerald gaze never wavering, mouth twisting in to a wry smile, as I raked my fingers through my perpetually messy hair, displacing the raven locks more so than usual.

“I simply feel as if its imperfection is part of its beauty. As if you don’t need to be perfect to be good enough… you can be scarred…”

I trailed off; my still raised hand rubbing unwittingly at the faint scar of my forehead. My mark of slavery. Of freedom. Of shackles. Of hopes. Sighing heavily, I turned my back to the blond to gaze at the unfinished perfection that was the jagged sculpture.

“You can be scarred… and ‘still’ be beautiful… still good enough… For new beginnings, for new starts…”

My voice was barely audible as I once again turned to lock saddened emerald eyes with the molten mercury of my former school rival. Forcing a lighter lilt, I shrugged lightly, a mere imperceptible movement of a shoulder, as I offered a tight lipped smile.

“That is not to mention the fact that as a healer I see the continuous cycle of breakdowns and revivals in your work, Malfoy. It’s quite exquisite. You seem to have found your calling.”

I eyed him intently; my smile no longer forced, nor was the genuine warmth heavily coloring my voice as my eyes bore into his.

• • • • •

Draco: I watched him carefully as he spoke, starting out slowly and steadily gaining emotion regarding my sculpture. My brow twitched but I was otherwise outwardly unaffected. It was still odd to me, his reaction, and it was definitely unexpected.

“All of that from a bit of broken glass?”

I ask, the corners of my mouth curling with a somewhat amused smirk.

Of course I’d heard he’d been studying to be a healer, you’d have to be living under a rock not to, but it still struck me; again, unexpected.

“And here I thought I would be damned with faint praise.”

I offered him a smile and slight shrug, fingers absently drumming on my jean clad thigh. I regarded him carefully, so many thoughts filtering through my mind, few of which I would actually voice.

“And what about the pieces you already have, what of them?”

My gaze remained fixed on him as I shifted, unlacing my legs and sliding off the stool. My fingers dipped into the front pocket of my worn jeans, sliding the silver cigarette case out and flipping it open. I plucked a single cigarette from within, quickly flipping it closed again and dropping it back into my pocket.

“Surely you don’t wish to fill your entire home with my work.”

I pressed the cigarette between my lips, eyes still trained on him as I raised my wand and lit the tip.

“I’m not that good.”

I said after inhaling deeply, eyes narrowing at him pointedly before tipping my head back to release the cloud of white smoke. My gaze lingered on him a moment longer and I reached up, pressing the glasses back up my nose before breaking the gaze and moving back towards the sculpture, bare feet stopping just short of the mess of broken glass. I gazed down at the destruction for a moment, considering what he’d said about the piece moments before. I rolled the words around in my mind, eyes moving over the broken piece slowly. New beginnings..New starts..Imperfection is beauty..

Imperfection is beauty..

• • • • •

Harry: I felt the heat tinging my cheeks anew.. only this time it was in pleasure at the implied compliment. It was there. Truly. You simply had to know where to look for it.

It was lurking in the intent gaze boring into mine. It was present in the slight twitch of his pale brow. It was clear in the way he directed the smoke away from me. It was evident in the smile he graced me with..

And, I felt my lips curling shyly in response.

Merlin.

This was strange.. strangely good..

Both hands shoved deeply in my pockets, I opened my mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the sharp tone sounding from my back pocket. Instantly on alert, I reached back to grab the Muggle mobile phone, recognizing the ring tone as that of the Emergency Ward of my department. The flashing message confirmed my worse fears. I was needed.

“Malfoy.. I.. I’m sorry, but I must go.”

I rushed out, taking a step towards the blond as he turned to face me.

“I work at the Royal London Hospital in East London. There is a great cocktail bar nearby in Devonshire Square, The Anise, operated by wizards. They’re famed for their Spiced Martinis. I stop by there after work, usually.. to unwind…”

Trailing off, worrying my bottom lip momentarily, I pressed on.

“I was wondering if you’ld like to join me there perhaps.. later on tonight.. for a cocktail..”

I promptly tugged my oft abused lip back between my teeth, wondering briefly if I could claim temporary insanity…

Merlin.

This was strange.. Strangely right…

• • • • •

Draco: The unmistakable sound of a Muggle mobile device broke through the hazed silence and I lifted my gaze from my sculpture, turning to face him, not missing the way his thick brows furrowed together in concern as he stared down at the object. I wanted to make a comment about it but refrained, the urgency in whatever was calling him was evident.

I watched him stumble through his next several words and I couldn’t stop the corners of my mouth from curling up into a smirk.

“Are you asking me out, Potter?”

I arched a solitary brow at him, my smirk curling into something a bit more pronounced. I couldn’t help but be amused, whatever his intentions might have been.

• • • • •

Harry: His question caught me off guard.

Hesitant emerald eyes instantly widened saucer-like, staring at him in something akin to shock and surprise. Mouth opening and closing in a vain attempt to reply, as I watched him intently, taking note of the amused glint in his molten mercury orbs.. the marked smirk.. the inquiring arched brow..

Was I asking him out? Was I asking Draco Malfoy out?

My brows furrowed in contemplation, mouth snapping shut as the realization dawned upon me. That was exactly what I was doing. I wanted to continue seeing him.. to continue speaking with him.. I wanted…

Shaking my head imperceptibly to clear off the traitorous and highly inappropriate thoughts, I averted my gaze momentarily as my fingers wrapped and unwrapped around the mobile in my hand. Glancing up, my cautious gaze piercing his amused one, acutely aware of the passing minutes, I cleared my throat and offered a simple and honest reply.

“Yes, I ‘am’ asking you out.”

Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, swallowing hard, I ran a hand through my raven locks, as I squared my shoulders, facing him fully.

“Will you be joining me then?”

• • • • •

Draco: I watched him as the seconds ticked past, I could clearly see the thoughts forming and exiting his mind through his every changing expressions. He wore everything so plainly, I was intrigued with watching him try and sort himself out. When he spoke my smirk turned into a grin and I crossed the room towards him, half-spent cigarette still wedged firmly between two of the fingers on my left hand.

“Only one way to find out..”

I said through my grin as I reached him, hands resting on his shoulders and ushering him towards the door of my studio.

“Now, go. They’re waiting.”

I pulled the door open and stood aside, holding it open and fixing him with a smirk.

• • • • •

Harry: It took all my reserve to maintain my stand as the now grinning blond closed the distance between us. Emerald eyes widening perceptibly, flicking between the silver orbs and the hands resting firmly on my shoulders. Their warmth burning through the fabric of my jacket as he manipulated me around and guided me towards the door; his words ringing in my ears..

One way to find out..

What did that mean? Would he join me? Was he turning me down? Did I make a mistake? Was he not interested? In me? In men? I felt my heart racing, wanting to stop and question his statement, but also needing to leave. Immediately.

Groaning inwardly, chastising myself for reading too much into this, I turned and faced him as he slid the door to the studio open. Inclining my head, I stepped over the threshold and down the steps.

“Alright then.”

I offered, a small hesitant smile ghosting my lips as I turned on my heels and walked to the nearest alley, preparing to apparate to London Royal Hospital. Pausing at the mouth of the alley, I looked back one last time, only to see the blond still leaning against the doorway, cigarette perched between lips, watching me, watching him.

“I hope to see you..”

I murmured softly to myself, hand jerking in a would be farewell wave, before I stilled it and entering the dark alley, disapparated.

2. Casting The Runes

Draco: “It’s my fucking art, I’ll do it myself.”

The fire call was one of several I’d had that morning, and if they didn’t stop soon, I would surely smoke himself into an early grave by lunchtime. The man’s head that was currently sticking out of my fireplace was trying to talk some sense into me, trying to soothe me with petty words that didn’t mean a damn thing. I had always been particular about where my pieces went once they left my studio, and these particular pieces were no different.

“I told you, I don’t trust the transporters.”

My eyes rolled as I paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, hand repeatedly reaching up to press the half spent cigarette between my lips and drawing deeply from it. The man was an art dealer who specialized in private sales, it wasn’t the first time he’d contacted me about a piece, but at the rate things were going it might very well be the last. As with everything in my life I was protective of my art. Being a successful artist was not on the top of my list of things to do before I died, I didn’t need to please anyone or sell my work to be happy; it just so happens that I turned out to be very good at it, so the rest came naturally.

“I’ll expect an owl with the coordinates by tea.”

The finality in my voice was unmistakable and without another word I waved my hand at the fireplace, the orange glow dissipating and ending the call. I heaved a dramatic sigh and stalked away, moving through the spacious flat into the bedroom and dropping down on the bed. I lie there, staring at the ceiling with my cigarette precariously perched between my lips, head resting on open palm, mind a million miles away.

This should be an interesting day..

• • • • •

Harry: Sighing softly, I watched Caleb Cranston whirling past me, and disappear in a sea of emerald green, through the newly linked fireplace. I cast my gaze around the vast empty town house I had procured last week, upon my return to the Wizarding England. My mind lost in the memories of the brief time spent at the newly restored Cottage at Godric’s Hollow, as my feet took me around the many empty rooms, throwing windows open as I passed them and worked my way up to the greenhouse on the rooftop.

The week had been nothing but one long drawn out sea of memories and haunted reflection. Of echoes and shadows of a past not forgotten. A collection of night-terrors made to order to slowly drive me insane. Despite the long hours spent at the Royal London Hospital, in East London; one of the few muggle hospitals benefiting from the Wizarding world’s existence and access to magical remedies — all done stealthily, of course — the cottage failed to give my exhausted mind and body even the smallest amount of peace and solace.

I had taken to stay at the Whitechaple Hotel after the third sleepless night; and, the day after, I had sought out a Wizarding Estate Manager and had successfully become the proud owner of a three story brown house in the posh town of Hampstead. My eyes rolled of their own accord as I unwittingly parroted the Estate Manager’s words in my head, while pushing open the door to the rooftop greenhouse. I found Hampstead to have an ideal mix of city life with the familiar “village feel” of Godric’s Hollow, with the heath and the wooded and narrow lanes. For a Muggle, the commute to East London would have been rather troublesome, but as a wizard, I was merely an apparition away from the Royal London Hospital.

My heart ached as it always did when contemplating Godric’s Hollow. Ron and ‘Mione had suggested that I close out the cottage, place it back under the Fidelius and Preservation charms, but I could not quite bring myself to do so. That cottage was my legacy. My one and only link with my parents. With my brief childhood. With my innocence. I could not simply force it into oblivion. No. The cottage at Godric’s Hollow, was akin to a toothache; one knew it hurt, but one still prodded it, just to feel the ache anew. Yes. My heart ached as it always did when contemplating Godric’s Hollow, but supposedly, a heart that hurts, is a heart that works.

So, here I was, the proclaimed Hero of the wizarding world, lost in a sea of memories, gazing down upon the many men and women under the direction of Cranston, milling about the backyard as they prepared to befit the empty house into a home. Maybe an elaborate fantasy, but it seemed to be the perfect place to start my new life.

• • • • •

Draco: I always got my way.

Just as requested, an owl swooped into my bedroom shortly before tea. I had been standing in front of the wardrobe, fingers working tiny pearl buttons into their holes as they made their way down the front of my shirt. Anyone who didn’t know me might think my entire wardrobe consisted of dark pants and white shirts like the ones I wore now, and my work clothes. Let them talk, I didn’t care.

I untied the small scroll of parchment from the owl’s leg and sent it on its way, silver gaze peering down at the hand written tidy scrawl. I shoved it into the pocket of my trousers and took a seat, slipping on my high top sneakers, sans socks. One messy swipe of pomade through my hair later and I was ready to go, I lit a cigarette with my wand tip and let myself out of the flat; walking down the hall and several flights of stairs to my studio.

I spent the next hour securing and properly packaging the two pieces that I would be escorting to their new home. A large vase whose paint swirled darkly when touched, and an even larger canvas, that was splashed with bright colors that twisted and faded into one another in an almost dangerous fashion. The canvas was the easier of the two; I merely wrapped it in paper and shrunk it down. I took extra time with the vase, carefully wrapping it for protection before sealing it in a large crate. When I was at last satisfied I shrunk that down too, placing both in my shirt pocket before apparating straight away from the studio.

I arrived at the address and was met with such commotion, silver gaze swept around at countless people rushing here and there as if their lives depended on it. I quirked a blonde brow, briefly pondering who the resident was that made these people act as such. I reached for the door knocker and struck it several times on the door, casting curious glances as I waited.

• • • • •

Harry: It was several hours later that I, with a heavy sigh, shifted my attention away from the mayhem below and left the glass enclosed greenhouse in search for the master suite. I was due at the Royal London Hospital shortly after tea and Cranston had vowed to have my private suite of rooms habitable by now. Casting one last glance at the whirling masses far below, I descended the flight of stairs to the accompanying cacophony of pops of House Elves’ apparitions, shouted orders and a greater mayhem than what I had first come to expect.

Luckily the third floor, housing my private chambers were blissfully silent; and, true to his words, Cranston had the floor completely furnished. Emerald eyes roamed the vast bedchamber as I stepped into the bright room, eyes lingering on the raised dais housing a large contemporary platform bed. The entire suite was furnished similarly. Clean lines influenced lightly by Eastern heritage. It was simple. It was what I had asked for. Slowly shifting in my spot, in the middle of the vast chamber, keen emerald eyes took note of the barren walls; head tilted to the side, I walked to the wall opposite the bed where a sheet of parchment was affixed. So, there was to be a painting placed here. One large canvas. One splash of color in the sea of metal and stone. Lovely. I could only hope that Cranston would continue to respect my wishes and not plague my to be sanctuary with some gaudy creation of a snooty artist.

Snorting softly, I turned around and headed to the en suite bathroom, heaving a sigh of relief at the sight of the large open shower with its multiple shower heads angled appropriately. No glass or curtain. A simple spell ensured the water and steam stayed in the designated area. It was quite ingenious, this creation that parroted bathing beneath an Amazonian waterfall. Inky lashes fluttering in delight, I began undressing; mind already at work reviewing patients’ charts. In a flick of a wrist, the many spigots were spewing water at the perfect temperature, and I stepped inside the steamy shower, palms splayed against the sea green mosaics of the wall, groaning in bliss as the water cascaded over my body, similar of many a hands massaging and working the kinks out of overly stressed and taut muscles.

• • • • •

Draco: The door was answered by a house elf that quickly ushered me inside, asking my name before scurrying off again. I stared after it, brow quirking curiously. Moments later a frantic looking man rushed up and greeted me, holding out a hand that I glanced at for a moment before my gaze slid back to the other mans.

“Let’s get this done, yes?”

I cut in, not wanting to linger any longer than normal. Judging by the state of the people working here whoever owned this house must be positively dreadful to deal with. I wanted to finish the job and get out of here, preferably without any incident.

The man was clearly distracted, trying to be in several places at once and I sighed, reaching into my shirt pocket to remove the two shrunk parcels. “Just tell me where, I’ll do the rest.” I nodded my head when the man pointed up the stairs, explaining that the canvas would be up there in the suite, and the vase would be in the sitting room.

With a nod I set off, heading into the sitting room first and setting the miniaturized crate containing the vase on the table and pointing my wand at it. In an instant it was back to its proper size and I turned and headed towards the stairs, where I would hang and magically secure the  canvas. I wanted a cigarette, the nicotine itch was starting to set in and I knew this was probably not the place to scratch so I picked up the pace, eager to get the hell out of this house.

I wandered slowly down the long hallway until I came to the master suite. I didn’t bother to knock, the man downstairs had made it clear that it was vacant..Hadn’t he?

I spotted the vacant spot on the wall held by a paper marker and moved over towards it, pausing to enlarge the canvas before setting it on the ground and leaning it carefully against the wall. I pointed my wand at the wall, pausing to glance over my shoulder when I heard the bathroom door open.

To say that I had been ill prepared to see Harry Potter come waltzing out of that bathroom wrapped in nothing but a towel would be an understatement. I was, for once, stunned into silence.

• • • • •

Harry: Feeling far more rejuvenated than when I had arrived, early this morning to the vast empty townhouse, I stepped out of the steamy shower and flicked the many spigots off. Stretching my neck languidly, I reached for a fluffy emerald green towel, which I ran through my hair prior to wrapping it along narrow hips.

Unheeded of the droplets of water still on my body, I curled my fingers around the lip of the large marble basin, functioning as a sink and peered intently at my reflection. There were still the telltale signs of sleep deprivation. Granted, my position as head surgeon for the pediatric ward of the hospital demanded many hours from me, but this bout of insomnia had been caused by reflections of memories belonging to ghosts of a lifetime ago.

Hopefully, it all could be rectified tonight. Ghosts put to rest. Sighing softly, I ran the pads of my fingers along my jaw, wandlessly incanting the spell to rid me of the undesired hair as I reached for my toothbrush with the other hand. A tempus charm later, I reached for the frosted bathroom door and stepped outside, only to come to a complete halt at the sight of none other but that familiar silver blond mane, paired with intense mercury orbs.

Emerald eyes widening perceptibly, I reached out for the doorway and grasped it tightly as I was assaulted by memories of yet another past lifetime… although, this one did not belong to any ghosts, but the very much alive Draco Malfoy.

• • • • •

Draco: It only took a moment, perhaps two, for me to gather my thoughts and rope them all in, mouth snapping shut as I averted my gaze; instead turning my attention back to the wall.

“I should have known.”

I replied simply, reaching up to pluck the piece of parchment off the wall that was serving as a place marker for my canvas. I didn’t turn around again but I could feel the emerald gaze on my back, I merely heaved a quiet sigh and reached for my wand. I took the opportunity to kindly remind myself that this is why we let the transporters do this work for us, so we don’t have to tangle in moments such as these. In other life I might have been angered that Harry Potter wanted my art, but as it stood now, I had little else to think on the matter beyond ripe amusement.

I muttered a quiet spell at the wall and another at the portrait, standing back slightly as it lifted itself off the ground and fixed properly to the wall. I took another step back and tilted my head only just, eyeing the canvas before I was seemingly satisfied.

“There.”

I said simply, casting a half glance over my shoulder at Potter. I wondered if Potter could even appreciate what he was looking at or if he merely paid someone else to decorate his home in a smart fashion that might make him seem more interesting than he really was. My pieces were all created with the assistance of magic, meaning very little was ever as it seemed.

“I left the crate with the other piece in the sitting room, try not to break it.”

I fixed him with an even stare before I turned and headed for the door, needing a cigarette now more than ever and wishing nothing more than to put as much distance as possible between myself and the nearly nude form of Harry Potter.

• • • • •

Harry: Standing in the doorway, wrapped in nothing but an emerald green fluffy towel, I stood, utterly transfixed, mouth slightly agape and watched as Malfoy — the snooty artist, as my mind kindly reminded me of — turned his back to me and began affixing the large canvas to the wall. Emerald eyes roamed the planes of the blond’s form languidly; the messy sleep tousled hair — sticking in all directions, the crisp white shirt, whose tail was hanging loose, the dark tailored trousers hugging his form closely, and — with a shift of brows — the hightop sneakers…

Blinking rapidly at the incongruity caused by the addition of the footwear, I found my gaze captured by intense silver orbs that gave nothing before they were averted as the blond strode out of my bedchambers. The quiet click of the door, arose me from my self-induced stupor and releasing a shuddering breath, I padded over to the large colorful canvas adorning the wall. I stood for a long moment in front of the canvas, lost in the swirling colors merging and separating.. merging and separating.. It was quite the sight and it brought a sense of closure, of completion and new beginnings to my mind.

Mouth quirking in a small smile at the thought of owning a Malfoy — something that amused me immensely — I finally sauntered over to what I assumed was my closet. A sleek rotating unit along the entire eastern wall of my suites. Thankfully, all my clothing — tailored to taste, only last week — were unpacked and housed within, courtesy of my newly acquired House Elves. Selecting a pair of slim dark trousers and an aubergine tailored shirt, I proceeded to dress and ready myself for my long day at work; mind whirling with a million thoughts, all unsurprisingly centering around my childhood rival.

Moments later found me casting one last glance at my appearance in the full length mirror, briefcase and coat resting lightly in my hand, before I strode out of my chambers, intent on exchanging a word with Cranston before apparating to East London. Descending the curved stairs, a large crate in the sitting room beckoned me. Realizing that I must be looking at Malfoy’s other contribution to my home, I walked up to the crate and circled it several times. Suppressing the urge to unwrap the crate and view its content, I, instead, found myself glancing up at the approaching harried footfall of Cranston.

“You will be done no later than midnight, yes?”

I effectively cut off, what would have most certainly been a long winded speech about things I, frankly, cared not to know of.

“Excellent.”

I exclaimed curtly at the other’s nod and strode out of the sitting room, ignoring the gawking stares and the murmured whispers of my name as I passed the many witches and wizards at work. Shutting the front door behind me, my soot black lashes fluttered shut for a moment as I allowed myself a moment of weakness; I leaned back against the heavy door, sighing in resignation at the realization of the sad truth that no matter how long I stayed away from the Wizarding England, I would always be their hero.

Always revered.

Always praised.

Always lionized.

• • • • •

Draco: It didn’t take me long to retrace my steps back downstairs, eyes immediately glancing around for the tall man I’d spoken with earlier soI  could wrap this up and get the hell out of here. A house elf appeared next to me, jogging slightly to keep up with me as I moved through the spacious house, gaze flicking everywhere in my search. I asked the elf to find him and headed towards the door, letting himself outside and releasing a large breath I hadn’t been aware I’d been holding. There were chairs situated on the porch and I glanced at them, opting for stepping off the steps entirely and leaning against one of the pillars instead.

I reached into my pocket, retracting a silver cigarette case that I easily flipped open, plucking a cigarette before snapping it closed and sliding it back into my pocket. I lit it with wand tip and inhaled deeply from it, lashes fluttering against the translucent flesh beneath my eyes as the toxic smoke filled my lungs and the nicotine soothed me. I was half way through the cigarette before I began to wonder if Potter’s decorator was ever going to find his way out here so I might head back to my loft.

The door opened and I lifted my gaze, brow shifting at the sight of Potter all smartly dressed and carrying a briefcase. A smirk pulled the corners of my mouth as I watched the other sag against the door, not even aware I was there.

“If you don’t want them just say so, I’d rather take them back than leave them in unworthy hands.”

I regarded the other through a neutral expression, blinking slowly as I raised my cigarette to my lips.

• • • • •

Harry: The bored drawl caused my lashes to flutter open, my breath quickening at being caught so unawares. I canted my head to eye Malfoy intently. Emerald eyes narrowing slightly as I evaluated his statement, measuring its worth, tasting its veracity much like a serpent would taste fear in its prey.

Yes.

The remark was rather snide and some may even say vicious; but I knew Malfoy. I had not spent the greater part of my childhood, not having learned a thing or two about the cunning blond; and that comment was not said with malice.

Lips curling into a soft smile, I pushed away from the door and closed the distance between us. This was to be a new beginning. A perfect place to start.

“Malfoy.”

I stretched out a hand towards him in greeting, in much the same manner he had approached me ten years ago. I could only hope that he would be a better wizard than I had been then. That he had learned to grow passed our childish rivalry and be willing to start fresh as well.

• • • • •

Draco: I wasn’t sure what I had expected, but this certainly had not been it.

I watched him as he seemed to consider me and my words, as if trying to form a proper response. He was moving, and as he strode towards me I couldn’t help but feel the smallest tinge of anticipation inside. I had no idea what to expect.

I found myself glancing down at his hand, blinking away the sense of déjà vu that plagued the moment. I reached out with my free hand, slipping a cold hand into his warm one, not missing the irony there.

“Potter.”

I mirrored, brow arching curiously as my hand fell away from his. My left reached up, pressing the cigarette between my lips, silver gaze never leaving his. I regarded him from behind the pool of white smoke that I exhaled and couldn’t help but wonder what he was up to.

Some habits are harder to put to bed than others, I suppose..

• • • • •

Harry: Excellent.

Soot black lashes fluttered shut as the blond clasped my hand, and I could feel the soft smile on my lips curving into a lopsided grin as I eyed him intently through pleased emerald eyes.

“It was quite a bit of a surprise to see you… “

I inclined my head in the general direction of my bedchambers, emerald gaze never wavering. He intrigued me in more ways than I would have expected. I wanted to learn all about him. I wanted to know his secrets. I wanted to know what made him tick… what skeletons he hid in his closet… what images graced his dreams…

I wanted to know…

And, I was not certain whether this new found curiosity was due to simply running across an old acquaintance, a rival even; or, whether there was something more to it…

Frankly, I did not care.

• • • • •

Draco: “Indeed.”

I replied, offering him a half smile and a lofty shrug. I inhaled a final time from my cigarette, a satisfyingly slow exhale following. I shifted my weight onto one foot, bringing one of my sneakers up enough to crush the spent butt against its bottom before dropping it again and fixing him with a grin.

“So, am I to assume you didn’t have anything to do with the purchasing of my art?”

I had to ask, even though I already knew the answer. My brow arched with the question and I took to leaning against the pillar again, rolling the remnants of the cigarette butt between my fingertips. He was oddly cheerful, I know it’s been years and that we are no longer children, but still..

It was unnerving for some reason.

• • • • •

Harry: My gaze followed his movements as he extinguished his cigarette, brow arching at the surprisingly endearing act of utilizing his footwear to accomplish said task, as my lips quirked into an amused grin. How very unMalfoylike… I, immediately, halted that train of thought as I repeated my newly embraced mantra: This was to be a new beginning. A perfect place to start.

We were no longer the same wizards, bound by House rivalries and political agendas of those who supposedly knew best. No, if anything, I was finally free from the shackles of good intentions and was just… me. Just Harry. And, perhaps, just perhaps, he was finally being himself as well…

“No, I’m afraid I had nothing to do with acquiring your art. Although, after seeing the painting in my bedchambers, I certainly hope you’ld allow me to view the rest of your collection.”

Smiling sheepishly, I cast a cursory glance at my wristwatch, sighing softly as I noted the time.

“Listen… I’m afraid I must leave now, but.. I’d really like to continue this conversation. Soon, I hope.”

I paused to eye him intently, searching for a sign, a reaction, anything that would either warn me or encourage me along the path I was currently treading.

• • • • •

Draco: I quirked a brow at his honesty, not at all shocked by what he said, but rather the way it was stated. This entire exchange was somewhat surreal, like I wasn’t standing here having a conversation with my biggest rival from school. Strange day indeed.

“I’m sure your designer knows the location of my studio.”

I replied with a small shrug, stepping aside with a small nod. “I won’t keep you,” I added, gaze lingering a moment longer before I turned and headed back up the steps and inside his house, determined to find this elusive designer and get the hell out of here.

• • • • •

Harry: Smiling softly, my gaze followed him around as he walked away and entered the house. Yes, I would certainly ask Cranston for the location of Malfoy’s studio; but, right now I was needed at the London Royal Hospital. With an indiscernible nod to the newly vacant pillar, where Malfoy had been leaning against moments before, I turned on my heels and disapparated.

All things in due time.

1. Prologue

It’s late and I’ve fucked the entire day away in bed. By the time I get up the sun is nearly set and as I pad across the cold marble tiles I am reminded why skipping our morning cup of coffee is a very bad idea. I grab the faded and paint stained jeans that have been laundered and left neatly folded on a chair and slide them on, fastening the button fly and scratching at my head absently. I feel a yawn coming on and I stretch into it, arms reaching up over my head and leaning back. I’m standing in front of my wardrobe, staring blankly at the hangers of clothes I rarely wear. I reach for a crisp white button down, undoubtedly something my mother purchased in hopes I might wear it. Well, good news mum, I’m wearing it! I roll the sleeves and manage to button a few buttons along the front before I turn and head into the bathroom. I study my reflection for a moment, leaning closer to the mirror and rubbing at my chin with my fingers.

I could wait another day..

My hair is impossible and I’m amused. There is too much product in it from the night before and I can’t be arsed to wash it out, so I run a few fingers through it and shrug. Before I leave I scoop up my two most prized possessions currently: My silver cigarette case and my muggle iPod. My father would murder me if he realized what it was but I’ll take my chances, it had been a Christmas gift from Pansy, her idea of being funny; gifting me muggle items. The joke was on her in the end and if you could have seen her face you’d be as amused as I continue to be, every time I use it.

I make the short trek to my studio,  which admittedly is much closer than anyone realizes. I let myself in and immediately scoop up several brushes, the mess from the day before long since cleared away. I hadn’t always aspired to what I do, but you’d be surprised what a fucked up lack of a childhood and a war can do to a person. I don’t make apologies and I don’t regret, I bleed into what I create and then put it behind me. My mother still thinks it’s just a phase, Merlin love her. She has high hopes than one day I will wake up and realize that I’ve been kidding myself; that I’m not an artist, that I’m in fact a fit young man in the prime of his life, who is ready to buy a wife and create an heir. Mothers, you gotta love them.

I’m standing before a blank canvas, too many thoughts fist fighting in my head and none of them offering the slightest bit of help. I light a cigarette and turn the volume up loud enough to prevent proper thought, plucking a brush from the table and twirling it between my fingers. The deafening beat is pounding in my head so loudly I can feel its vibration in my chest, and I smile.

So begins another day..