Escape

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. I'm just borrowing them for a while and will return them in one piece. I also don't own the song; the song is property of Plain White T's. Oh yeah, and the summary is a line from Kenny Chesney's song "The Road and the Radio". I take no credit for any of that. The way in which I use it, though, is all me! WARNING: This is a slash story. And this story ignores events from DH.

Author's Notes: Here's a nice little story that will fulfill the requisite songfic that every writer seems to have and will hopefully cure my horrendous case of writer's block. A huge thanks to abnormallyriddikulus over on FA for the last-minute beta.

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Escape

He stopped just shy of the door. The night was cold and bright. People jostled his elbow and the wind tugged at his clothes and hair. He looked around at the trees covered with twinkling white Christmas lights. The air smelled like any other city: like smoke, soggy, wet cardboard, and the nearby Thai restaurant. But as he inhaled, he thought he detected a hint of snow.

It's a night laden with possibilities...

"Come on, Harry, it's cold out here," said Hermione. She grabbed his hand and carefully pulled him toward the entrance to the club.

Inside, it was dark and hazy. The lights on the dance floor and around the bar were dimmed. A live band was playing some pop/punk/rock song. The dance floor was crammed with writhing bodies, pressed firmly against each other and moving with the rhythm of the music. The bartenders could not pour drinks fast enough.

Harry and Hermione squeezed through the crowded dance floor and found two spots at the bar. Harry ordered Glen Livet scotch on the rocks while Hermione opted for a Sex on the Beach. He absentmindedly sipped his drink and wondered how he wound up spending a dateless New Year's Eve at The Blue Guitar.

***

Two Months Ago

Harry placed a single, long-stemmed, red rose in the vase on his dining room table. He smoothed his hands down his shirt, making sure it was free of wrinkles. He looked around the room nervously, hoping he hadn't forgotten something.

Just then, he heard a loud 'pop,' followed by the jangle of the doorbell. He hastily made his way to his front door and pulled it open.

"Hi, baby!" said a saccharine sweet voice, dripping with honey. She gave Harry a quick kiss before brushing passed him into the house. He took a deep breath; the kiss had left him a little dizzy.

The vision that greeted him when he turned around took away the breath he had so recently regained. The woman before him was dressed in a shimmering, black halter dress that ended just above her knees and hugged every curve. Her chestnut brown hair hung in curls about her face and cascaded over her shoulders. Her rich, brown eyes lit up when she caught him staring and she cracked a wide smile, showing off every one of her pearly teeth.

She spun in place, causing the dress to twirl out slightly. That was when Harry caught a glimpse of the low-cut back and the shiny black heels laced up to mid-calf. His breathing hitched.

"Wow," he breathed. "You're beautiful, Sophia. Absolutely...stunning."

They sat down to a delicious, home-cooked meal of Caesar salad, baked potato and fillet mignon. Harry opened a bottle of 1984 Franciscan and poured her a glass. It was like any other night, save for the fact that Harry's nerves were so keyed up.

They talked about everything: friends, work, the upcoming holidays, the latest scandal, the newest clubs, Quidditch and their relationship. It was on that note that Harry cleared his throat.

"Sophia, I wanted...I wanted to...ask..." He stopped talking and ducked his head, running a hand through his hair. Sophia smiled reassuringly as he looked up again.

"We've been together for a long time now. I love you and I think we're good for each other. You're gorgeous and sensitive and fun to be with. I trust you. You know about my past and you've accepted it. You've accepted that I come with a lot of baggage and we've worked through it together. You've embraced the constant media attention better than anyone else. I love you and...."

He paused and gathered up the rest of his reputable Gryffindor bravery. He got up from his chair and knelt on one knee in front of the girl he loved.

Taking her small, smooth hand in one of his own calloused ones, he asked, "Sophia, will you marry me?"

She inhaled sharply as he pulled the ring out of his pocket. "Oh Merlin, yes! YES!" He leaned forward and met her, sealing the promise with a kiss. He pulled back just long enough to slip the ring on her finger before attaching his lips to hers once more.

They slowly migrated to his bedroom, never once breaking contact. Harry gently backed Sophia into the wall as he worked his way down her throat. He paused to pay special attention to the spot behind her ear as his hands roamed.

Sophia moaned and her eyelids fluttered. As she looked about with lust-filled, half-lidded eyes, she noticed the hundreds of floating candles and the bed covered with rose petals. "Oh Harry," she sighed and brought his mouth up to hers, kissing him with renewed vigor.

His hands fumbled a bit with the tie to her dress but after a moment, he peeled it off and let it pool around her feet. Sophia dragged her hands down the front of his shirt before untucking it. She gingerly worked the buttons free and pushed it off his shoulders, her fingernails grazing over his skin.

As Harry groaned his approval, she began work on his belt and pants. Soon, he was dressed in just his boxers and was fast approaching a frenzied state. He circled his arms around Sophia's waist, admiring the tanned skin. He kissed her deeply, massaging her tongue with his.

They fell onto the bed, her thin frame wedged under his lightly muscled one. He kissed his way down her body, unhooking her bra in the process. He was drawing the most delicious sounds from the girl wriggling beneath him.

After dipping his tongue into her navel, Harry looked up and held her gaze. An eternity of feeling passed before their desire overpowered them. He attached himself to her lips once more. Locking eyes again, he whispered "I love you," before giving over completely.

-

Harry was standing in his kitchen, finishing his second cup of coffee, and marveling that things were finally going right for once in his life. No sooner had he thought that than Hermione could be heard calling from his living room.

"Harry? Are you alright? Harry!"

He quickly walked toward the fireplace and knelt down next to Hermione's head. He laughed lightly as she frantically tried to keep her hair out of the green flames.

"Hey, Hermione. To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?"

"I hadn't heard from you for a few days and then I walked by the newspaper stand this morning and.....well, I was worried about you. Are you alright?" she asked again, brow furrowing in concern.

"I'm more than alright," Harry enthused. "I'm fantastic! I've been meaning to tell you something but Sophia kept me rather occupied this weekend. I --"

"-- proposed, I know. And she accepted," said Hermione vehemently.

"Yeah, it's wonderful. I'm so hap -- wait, how do you know? We haven't told anyone yet," Harry said, confused.

"You might not have but she has," Hermione said gently. She bit her lip before continuing, a look of deep regret in her eyes. "She....well, she.....Oh Harry, I hate having to be the one to tell you this but she gave an exclusive interview to Witch Weekly."

He sat back on his heels, stunned. Why would she do that?

"That's not all," she said, bracing herself.

"There's more?! What more could she possibly do?" he asked, still too shocked by the whole situation.

"She gave them rather indecent photos of the two of you."

He felt like he had been punched in the gut. Sophia, the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, had sold pictures of them having sex. She knew how much he hated all the media attention and she turned around and did this? He needed to time to think; he needed to talk to his fiancé.

"Uh....well...thanks, Hermione........for telling me."

"Harry, what are you going to do? I don't think you should be by yourself right now..." she said, raising her voice when he showed no sign of having heard her.

"No, it's okay. I'm fine. I just need to think....and talk to Sophia. We'll figure it out. It's a misunderstanding, that's what it is; everything will be fine and we'll be okay," he rambled.

A severe-looking, amber-eyed screech owl rapped on his living room window.

"I'm gonna have a lot to do today, Hermione. I'll talk to you later," he said and walked away. His friend had no choice but to sever the connection and hope for the best.

Harry hesitantly opened the window and the owl flew past, landing on the armrest of the couch. He took the rolled parcel from its beak and reached for a jar on the mantle to get some coins. When he turned around, it had already flown away.

Guess that means this is the latest copy of Witch Weekly, he thought morosely.

He gingerly unfurled the magazine and gasped when he saw the cover. Staring back at him was a picture of himself on a bed of rose petals, eyes full of love and desire and naked chest heaving. Emblazoned across the image was the headline: 'The Boy Who Lived: An Insider Perspective'.

He fell onto the couch in stunned silence. I can't believe this. She used pictures from THAT night! How? Why? I just......what happened?

He forced himself to open the magazine to the article but felt his stomach drop down into his feet as he scanned the print. There were so many pictures......so much personal information. I trusted her, he thought bitterly. I trusted her and she turned around and sold me out.

He bolted up and into the bathroom, emptying the meager breakfast he had had into the toilet. When he was finished, he splashed cool water on his face and rinsed his mouth out. After he reigned in his nerves, he sat down on the couch and pulled a scrap of parchment out of a pile and scribbled a note.

"Hedwig!" he called. She flew down the stairs, landing heavily on his shoulder. The weight was comforting. "Get this to Sophia as quick as you can."

She hooted softly and took off through the window Harry had forgotten to close.

-

Harry had wandered aimlessly around his house for hours. He couldn't focus on anything but hearing Sophia's explanation. There must be a reason, he thought for the thousandth time. She'll tell me and we'll work it out and everything will be back to normal.

He had just sat down and anxiously turned on the television when he hear a 'pop,' followed by furious knocking on his door. Finally!

Harry swung open the door and was greeted with, "Hey there, honey!" Sophia leaned in to kiss him but he backed away, causing her to pitch forward and stumble a bit.

"Whoa, sweetie, what's wrong?" she asked, voice full of concern.

"What's wrong? What's wrong?!" he asked incredulously. "What's wrong is that you sold pictures of us to Witch Weekly!"

"Oh baby, are you mad?" she asked innocently.

"I'm hurt! You know how much I hate the media. I explained to you that I'm a private person and you told me you understood. You told me you could respect that. You --"

"-- Relax, cupcake, no harm was done," she said dismissively.

"No harm....no harm done!? Are you insane?" he yelled. "The entire Wizarding World will read this shit and you know it so drop the fucking act. Rumors will circulate for months, maybe even years! Everyone will know about it. EVERYONE!"

"Yes well, that was kind of the point."

He whirled around, gaping. "What?" he asked quietly.

"That was the point. Everyone will read it. Everyone will know that I'm the one who gave Rita the information. I'll be famous and I don't have to rely on you for publicity anymore," she said resentfully.

"What are you talking about? You actually did this for the fame?!" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Did you plan it?"

"What? Oh no, no, no! I would never do something like that! I was simply chatting with Becca and she mentioned that I could make a killing with what I know about you. Reporters would fall over themselves to impress me. All the most reputable modeling agencies will want me. I could make so much money and then the two of us would really be happy!"

"Us?" he asked with a laugh that sounded slightly hysterical. "There is no us. Not anymore."

"But baby, why not?" she said, startled.

"Did you really think I would still want to marry you after you betrayed me like this? I trusted you. And look where it got me," he said, gesturing to the table on which the magazine still lay open. "You've made a mockery of everything we had together, everything we did and everything we said. You make me sick. I don't want to see you again. Please leave."

"Well, I suppose it doesn't really matter. I can have anyone I want now," she said as she picked up her purse and slinked toward the door. "Have a nice life, Harry Potter."

And she was gone.

***

Seven weeks and four days later

For the next two months, Harry had his good days and his bad days. Friday happened to be one of his bad ones.

It was four o'clock in the afternoon and Harry was plastered and on the verge of passing out again on his couch. Hard rock music was blaring loudly throughout the house, making the air vibrate. Empty whiskey bottles littered the floor around him. He had no idea how much he had drank or how long he had been unconscious.

Hermione's head appeared in his fireplace in a burst of green flame. She took one look at him and hastily withdrew. He was about to thank any and all higher powers that she had left him alone without a comment when she stepped gracefully from the fireplace.

With a swish of her wand, the music was gone and blissful silence filled Harry's ears. The silence was soon filled with the soft 'clink' as the liquor bottles were magicked away. He hoped she would leave it at that but all was in vain. He vaguely felt a weight settle onto the far end of the couch.

Harry blearily looked at his longtime best friend. Her face was a study in commiseration, worry and exasperation. She was clearly concerned for Harry's well-being but understood why he was feeling so shitty.

Hermione pressed a small vial into Harry's hand, wrapping his fingers around it. "Drink this."

He pulled the stopper and downed it, not giving his nose a chance to smell the undoubtedly horrendous contents. As it was, it tasted like bananas and battery acid; his stomach roiled violently and he had to force it to stay down.

After a few moments, all traces of his alcoholic afternoon were flushed from his system. He cautiously sat up and mumbled a raspy, "Thanks."

"Harry, this has to stop. You need to move on. Isn't there something that could take your mind off of what happened?" Hermione urged quietly.

"I can't help it. It was such a horrible thing to do. I mean, how did she even get the pictures in the first place? There wasn't a camera in sight!" he said, anguish lacing his voice.

"Well.....it's possible to capture still images from a memory viewed in a Pensieve," Hermione said disgustedly. "And Rita's definitely desperate enough to sink that low."

"I just......I don't....why can't my life be simple and quiet?!" he groaned in frustration.

Hermione hummed in thought. She had a calculating glint in her eye. "Harry," she said, making sure she had his full attention, "Toby isn't going to be in the country on New Year's Eve so I was thinking of going to a nearby club to celebrate. You should join me."

Harry shook his head, about to speak when Hermione plowed on. "It'll do you some good to get out of your house," she reasoned, "and this will hopefully take your mind off of Sophia."

"I'll be thinking about her the whole time."

"No, you won't. A live band always plays for part of the night and there's dancing and a bar. It'll be fun." Her face was shining with excitement, or so Harry thought.

"But......I don't know. I don't want to deal with people whispering about me every time I walk by."

"Don't worry about it. I won't take 'no' for an answer. I'll be here at nine p.m. on Monday."

***

Harry took another sip of his drink as the band cleared the stage. A DJ put on a fast-paced hip/hop song and the club seemed to move with a life of its own. He was absentmindedly staring off into space when an energetic punk rock girl came up on his left. She ordered a Jack and Coke.

Hermione nudged him with her elbow and inclined her head in the girl's direction, encouraging Harry to talk to her.

He turned around and looked at her profile as she chatted with the bartender. Her bottle-black hair was highlighted with flamingo pink streaks. She had a safety pin in her right ear, as well as blue guitar pick dangling from her earlobe. Her eyes were lightly lined with black eyeliner and it looked as if she had an eyebrow piercing.

Harry was rather intimidated and was about to turn back to his drink when she glanced at him and smiled. "Enjoying your night?"

"Umm....yeah, I guess," he answered awkwardly. She smiled a little wider.

"What did you think of Shattered Glass?" she inquired, turning toward him fully. She was wearing a tight white T-shirt that was splattered with colorful paint, a black, star-studded belt, matching leather bracelets, and patched and faded blue jeans. The pair of black Vans on her feet completed the image.

"Uh...what's Shattered Glass?" he asked, an embarrassed flush suffusing his cheeks.

She laughed lightly. "You must be new here. Shattered Glass is my band. We just played a set. I'm the drummer."

"Oh wow. That's cool. You guys were pretty good," he said honestly.

"Thanks. What brought you here tonight if it wasn't us?" she asked, leaning in so she could be heard over the music.

"My friend dragged me out here. She thinks I need to get out more," he said before mentally slapping himself. Good god, I sound so lame.

"Your friend, huh?" She leaned across Harry to talk to Hermione. "Could I borrow him for a few dances?"

"Oh sure, go for it!" she said enthusiastically.

The drummer girl set Harry's glass on the bar and took his hand, winding her way through the throng. She found a spot in the middle and began to move her hips to the beat. Harry moved clumsily for a few moments before she smiled reassuringly and took hold of his hands.

"Just put them here, on my hips, and follow me," she whispered in his ear.

He hesitantly held on and found the rhythm after a few tries. The crowded floor kept moving them closer and closer and Harry found that he was actually having fun. He loosened up with every minute that passed.

"I'm not going to break, you know," she said, laughing sweetly.

He laughed, too. "It's just a little weird," he said. "I don't even know your name."

"Andy," she said, "and you are?"

"Harry," he replied, equally taken back and pleased. He smiled again and really gave over to enjoying the moment. She turned around and started grinding with him to the new song. His hands never moved from her hips but he had fun all the same. They danced together for several songs before a cherry-red-haired man with a guitar on his back waved her over.

"Hey, we've got another gig to go to. It's been great dancing with you," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "Happy New Year, Harry!"

"Happy New Year to you, too, Andy," he said cheerfully.

He walked back to Hermione with a half smile on his face. She gave him a knowing look as he sat down.

"See, you just needed to get out of your house," she said smugly, sipping her second drink. "You need to stop wallowing and give the world another chance."

"I wasn't wallowing!" he said indignantly. She arched an eyebrow skeptically.

"Whatever," he huffed good-naturedly.

They enjoyed the music and each other's company. Harry regretted that he didn't hang out with Hermione more often. He really felt happy for the first time in two months.

"Harry," Hermione said awkwardly. He looked up warily.

"There...there are places you can go where your fame and past won't follow you. Has anyone here shown any recognition when they've looked at you?"

For the first time that night, he thought about it. He was a stranger here. "No," he said, awed.

"Please don't give up yet. Just give everything another chance..." she trailed off.

Harry was touched by how much she cared and impulsively leaned over and gave her a hug and a peck on her forehead. "Don't worry, I won't. I promise."

Just then, a young man walked onto the stage with a stool. He placed it in front of the microphone and picked up a guitar, seating himself. He fished a pick out of the pocket of his frayed, stonewashed blue jeans. He was wearing a plain, form-fitting black tee over a long-sleeved sapphire shirt. His straight blonde hair brushed his jawline and fell into his eyes, hiding his face.

Harry watched half-heartedly as the man tuned his guitar. Hermione was intently watching Harry for some reaction.

The blonde musician seemed satisfied with his guitar and looked up, scanning the crowd. He looked at the tousle-raven-haired man and Harry was hit with an intense wave of familiarity.

The guitarist started playing as Harry turned an accusing glare on Hermione. She stood next to the bar, confidently sipping her drink.

"Draco?" he breathed in disbelief. "Why didn't you tell me he would be here?"

"What makes you think I knew about it?" she asked innocently.

Draco's voice trickled over their conversation.

"I know a place that we can go to
A place where no one knows you
They won't know who we are"

Harry was rooted to the spot. He had never heard Draco sing before. His voice was velvety and smooth, warm and full of emotion. It caressed Harry and he could not have looked away if he'd wanted to.

"I know a place that we can run to
And do those things we want to
They won't know who we are

Let me take you there
I wanna take you there"

Harry blushed profusely and averted his eyes. He caught Hermione smothering a grin and comprehension dawned. "You knew?!"

"Of course I knew, Harry; you're my best friend."

He didn't know whether he should be embarrassed, angry or relieved. He staved off the decision by giving the musician his attention once more.

"I know a place that we've forgotten
A place we won't get caught in
They won't know who we are"

Draco made eye contact with Harry. Their intense gaze held, both completely unable to look away.

"I know a place where we can hide out
And turn our hearts inside out
They won't know who we are

Let me take you there
I wanna take you there
Let me take you there
Take you there
Take you there"

Harry's glance strayed across the dance floor. Nearly everyone had someone to slow dance with, and several couples were locked in a passionate, loving kiss. He bitterly thought of Sophia and her betrayal but the music flowed through him, preventing him from being too sad. He felt the pain lessen a little as he continued to listen.

"I know a place we'll be together
And stay this young forever
They won't know who we are

Let me take you there
I wanna take you there
Let me take you there
Take you there
Take you there
Ooohhh"

Harry's breath caught as the song started to wind down. Draco had once again sought out -- and found -- the raven-haired man's emerald gaze and held it until the end.

"We can get away to a better place

If you let me take you there
We can go there now cause every second counts
Girl just let me take you there
Take you there"

Hermione laughed slightly at the 'girl' comment but otherwise said nothing as everyone applauded and cheered. She watched Harry grow more nervous as Draco put away his guitar and approached the duo.

"Hello, Hermione," he said, inclining his head and smiling slightly. As soon as he turned to Harry, however, the smile fell from his face. He looked uncertain and guarded but a little hope still managed to shine through.

"Hello, Harry," he said quietly.

Harry stared, as if he couldn't believe his eyes. Draco was the last person he would have ever expected to run into on a night out. He had kept quiet since they had graduated, only appearing every so often.

"Hi, Draco," Harry whispered.

The trio lapsed into a tense, uncomfortable silence. Harry didn't know what to do with his hands and Draco seemed to find the floor fascinating. A bartender stopped by to ask Hermione if she would like another drink and Draco jumped at the sound.

"They'll each have another and I'll have a Rum and Coke," he said quickly. The bartender got them their drinks and Draco gulped half his in one go. As he set his drink down, he saw Hermione reaching for her purse.

"Oh no, it's on the house," he said.

"How do you know?" she asked leadingly.

"I own The Blue Guitar. This is my club," he said with a small laugh.

"Since when?"

"It's been around for over two years now."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Why what?" Draco inquired, finally looking at the raven-haired man again.

"Why did you open the club?" he clarified, still speaking in that soft, unsure voice.

"I've always wanted to run a bar but I wanted to get away from the Wizarding World for a while. Problem with that is that I know next to nothing about Muggles and what they find entertaining. That was when I met Andy --"

"-- The drummer girl?" Harry asked, his expression dimming a little.

"Yeah," he said nonchalantly, "did you already meet her?"

"I talked to her about forty-five minutes ago. She was pretty nice," he replied. "But how does she fit in to all this?"

"She's a sweetheart. Her band was looking for a home, a place they could always play at while they built up a fan base, and I needed someone with a creative mind. I put up the money and she's done all the organization," he said, falling easily into the conversation. "We have parties for holidays like Halloween, Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day, and of course, New Year's Eve. During the week, we have different bands play. It keeps the club busy."

"Well, boys, I'm going to let you chat. I'd tell you to stop by tomorrow morning but Toby will be back. We'll be making up for not seeing each other tonight and I dare say you don't want to walk in on that," Hermione said sweetly. "Happy New Year, Harry, Draco!"

Another silence was swept in. Each man drained his drink and tried to observe the other without being obvious. Draco was hesitant to make the first move as he didn't want to scare Harry away.

Harry picked up on Draco's reluctance in a flash and racked his brain for something to do or say. He was confused but was interested to know more about what this captivating blonde had been up to.

"You're a very good singer -- amazing, actually. I mean, I already knew you could play guitar but I didn't know you could sing. Your voice....it's gorgeous," Harry said, appealing to Draco's vanity.

A faint pink blush stained his cheeks. "Thanks," he said with a warm smile and a glow in his eyes.

"Did you write it?"

"No, it's a song by Plain White T's. But I did learn it for a reason," he hinted.

"Do you mind if I ask why?" Harry inquired, obliviously taking the bait.

"Not so long as you keep an open mind," he warned.

"Don't I always?" he asked teasingly, feeling the atmosphere brighten slightly.

Draco raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "We have six years of animosity that says otherwise."

Shit! Harry thought, mentally slapping himself. "I didn't mean to bring that up..." he tried to backpedal.

"Don't worry about it." Draco dismissed it, refusing to dwell on their turbulent past. "I learnt the song for you."

Draco had the distinct pleasure of seeing Harry's jaw drop. His eyes mirrored the shock his mouth had already conveyed and he seemed to be at a loss for words. He watched as the raven-haired man's throat worked to form words, pushing down the rush of desire that flared up.

"Really?" he finally whispered, scared to believe it was true.

"Harry," Draco said affectionately, gently resting his hand on the shorter man's forearm, "you told me you needed to get away from all your fame. You told me you needed to escape from everything and learn who you actually are. But from what I can tell, you haven't had much luck."

"Well thanks for rubbing it in," he said, getting ready to leave.

"No, Harry, wait!" he called, scrambling to recover. "That's not what I meant."

"How else was I supposed to take that?"

"It's possible to get away from the press and 'your adoring fans' but you're not going about it the right way. But, as you can so clearly see, I didn't know how to tell you that. So I used a song."

Harry paused and considered Draco. He didn't think he'd meant it to be demeaning or harmful but it hurt all the same, if only a little. 'He did sing that song for you,' a voice in his head kept saying.

"I'm listening."

"You can stay quiet and mind your own business but if you only do that, they're not going to let you be. You need to make it seem like you're still playing by their rules. Make appearances at events they didn't expect to see you at. It'll keep them on their toes and off your back. Granted, you will never be able to escape it entirely. You're Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World; they're not going to forget you anytime soon."

"Anything is better than what I've got at this point," Harry said with a sigh. He ran his hand through his tousled hair in frustration. "I'm sorry I just freaked out on you. I've had a stressful two months."

"Apology not needed but accepted just the same. I probably would've freaked out if I were you, too."

Emerald eyes met blue-grey and locked. "Thank you for the song," Harry said sincerely, his gaze never wavering.

"You're welcome," Draco said softly, not wanting to break the spell.

"So..."

"So..."

"So...um...what do we do...," Harry stammered. He cocked his head like he was studying something. "How did you know I was here?"

"Oh, that. That was Andy's doing," he replied, ducking his head to hide his embarrassment. "She's the only other witch who comes here on a regular basis. We've talked a lot over the last two years and she knows about you. I mean, she obviously knows about Harry Potter but she knows about Harry, too.

"Anyway, she recognized you at the bar. Before she left for her next gig, she let me know that you were here. I knew I wouldn't have been happy if I didn't at least try to talk to you. So...that's what I'm doing."

Once again, Harry didn't know what to say. He couldn't think straight with everything that he had learned. He started speaking without even thinking about it. "Are you seeing anyone now?"

Draco smiled, inside and out. "No, I'm not. I broke it off with my last boyfriend, Jake, about four months ago. Is it safe to assume that you haven't been looking for anyone since the Sophia incident?"

Harry nodded. Draco was radiating happiness; his eyes were sparkling and he seemed to be fighting the urge to grin like a madman.

"Would you like to dance?" Harry asked, wanting nothing more than to hold the man in front of him.

"I'd love to," he answered. The blonde took Harry's hand and led him out onto the dance floor.

They had barely started dancing when the DJ put on a slower song. He also let everyone know that they would be ringing in the New Year in three minutes. Harry and Draco didn't know what to do with themselves but someone had to make the first move.

Ever the brave Gryffindor, Harry stepped closer and wrapped his arms loosely -- and somewhat shakily -- around the former Slytherin's waist, resting his hands on the small of his back. Draco carefully draped his arms around Harry's neck.

They slowly swayed back and forth, oblivious to the couples around them. They were saying everything they couldn't find the words to say through the way they danced, the way they looked at each other.

"I talked to Hermione about two weeks ago," Draco said suddenly. Harry's gaze grew suspicious and he stilled his feet. "I asked her to bring you here."

"Why?"

"Because..." he trailed off, needing to prepare himself for any possible outcome of this conversation. "I wanted a second chance. I needed to see if there was still something between us. I needed to see you."

Harry remained silent, waiting for Draco to say all he had to say before speaking.

"She said she would do it for you, not me. But I had no reason to trust her. I hoped she would be able to convince you to come but I couldn't be certain. And I wouldn't have known that you were here if Andy hadn't spotted you. I would have gone to find you myself but I...was afraid to just show up at your house, in case you didn't want me there."

"I would have been glad to see you," Harry said warmly before giving Draco a hug. He melted into the embrace, inhaling the intoxicating scent that was uniquely Draco. He smelled like peppermint and fresh snow.

"I've missed you," he whispered in Draco's ear, his hot breath ghosting over the shell and making the slightly taller man shiver.

"I've missed you, too."

Just then, everyone began counting down to the New Year.

"Ten...nine...eight...seven...six...five...four...three...two...one...HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

As confetti rained down on the clubbers, Harry finally gave in to temptation and gently pressed his lips to Draco's. A shock went through him at the first brush and left him wanting more.

Draco dove into the kiss with enthusiasm and longing. He ran his tongue over Harry's lower lip before briefly sucking on it. He released it and invited Harry's tongue to get reacquainted with his mouth.

When Harry was satisfied with his exploration, he eased out of the kiss and leaned his forehead against Draco's.

"You would think something would've changed in the past five years," he commented, a bit breathless.

"It's never changed between us. We've always been at each other's throats one way or another," Draco quipped with a smile on his kiss-reddened lips.

"I prefer this way a lot more."

"Me too." He punctuated his sentence with a kiss.

"Could we go somewhere more private?"

"Definitely." Draco knitted his fingers through those on Harry's left hand and walked toward the bar. After instructing a bartender named Dustin to close up, the pair went outside and, with a twist, landed right in front of Draco's door.

-

Draco unlocked the door and Harry followed him in. Draco startled Harry when he kicked the door closed and pinned him firmly against the paneled oak.

"Desperate, are you?" Harry murmured, his lips just grazing Draco's.

Draco didn't bother to speak. He plunged his tongue into Harry's mouth, savoring the taste. The Gryffindor tasted of scotch, pretzels and a hint of anise. Their tongues tangled, twining around each other.

Harry's hands found purchase on Draco's hips, anchoring both of them. Draco's hands, however, were roaming everywhere. First, they were playing with the mop of hair on his head. Then they were running down his chest, consciously catching his nipples in passing. They flitted back to his hair for a while before starting their wandering again.

Draco trailed kisses across his jaw to his ear, breathing hotly on it. Harry shivered. He sucked on his pulse point, feeling his heartbeat quicken. He smiled against the tanned neck.

Harry eagerly brought the blonde's mouth back to his. He ran his tongue along the roof of the other man's mouth, trying to map out every ridge and divot. Damn, I've missed this.

While Harry was busy with his reminiscing, Draco snaked his hands under Harry's soft, lime green tee; he lightly ran his fingers over Harry's ribs. Harry squirmed, causing his shirt to ride up further.

It's so smooth...Draco smirked to himself while his fingers coaxed breathy moans from Harry as his nipples tightened into hard, sensitive nubs.

Draco stepped back long enough to pull the shirt over Harry's head. He bent his head, about to take a nipple between his teeth when Harry yanked Draco's layered shirts up, tangling him in them.

"Harry!" he yelled, flailing his arms. "Get me out of here."

Said man laughed, something he hadn't done in a while. "Nah, I think I'll leave you like this for a bit," he replied, admiring the view being presented.

"Just help me, Harry!" he whined.

"Still a demanding little bugger, are you?"

Harry helped Draco extricate himself from his sleeves and his breathing hitched. Draco's blonde hair was all disheveled, his face was flushed, and his chest was heaving. I wonder if that's how he looks after he's been shagged, he thought.

Eager to take things into his own hands, Harry shoved the blonde toward the opposite wall before kissing him fiercely. His fingers deftly unbuttoned and unzipped the stonewashed jeans and watched them pool on the ground. The black silk boxers quickly followed.

"You're gorgeous," Harry said as his eyes drank in every inch of skin.

He teasingly ran his fingers up and down Draco's length as he left a trail of open-mouthed kisses down his torso.

"Harry," the musician warned, "don't tease me."

Harry nipped at a jutting hipbone and looked up as he soothed the spot with his tongue. "Consider it payback for all the times you teased me."

But before Draco could utter another word, Harry had wrapped his mouth around him. A guttural moan escaped his lips as he threw his head back against the wall, scrabbling for something to hold on to. It's been far too long, Draco thought as lust pounded through his bloodstream and collected in his groin.

"Harry..." he begged before his release was ripped from his body. If it hadn't been for the raven-haired man's hands on his hips, he would have slumped to the floor in hazy bliss. He vaguely felt Harry slide back up his hypersensitive body to gently kiss his mouth.

"That was..." Draco trailed off, "...amazing."

Harry smiled and kissed him again. Need relief of his own, he worked his way down Draco's neck once more and rubbed against his leg.

"I'm glad you're so manipulative or we wouldn't be having fun right now," he joked, his voice a hoarse rasp.

Draco felt like a balloon inside him deflated with those words. But I want more, he thought.

He carefully extricated himself from Harry's embrace and gathered up his clothes. "I'll be right back."

He missed the hurt look that crossed the Boy Wonder's face as he walked into the bedroom. He returned wearing a pair of low riding, blue plaid pajama pants and sat down on the couch, curling his feet under his legs. He patted the seat next to him.

Harry warily approached the couch and sat down, unsure of what to expect.

"Harry, I think we should talk."

"About what?"

"Are we really going to do this?" Draco asked. Harry didn't answer.

"I need to know one way or another," he ploughed on, squashing the butterflies in his stomach, "because I can't watch you leave a second time. I did that once and I don't ever want to do that again."

Harry let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Draco sensed Harry caving and kept hammering away.

"We owe it to ourselves to at least try. I don't know about you but this.....this is....is..."

"I know, I feel it too," Harry said quietly. "I just don't know if I'm ready for another relationship right now."

Draco wasn't going to give up that easily. "But we've always been different, Harry. In school, you managed to get a reaction from me no matter what you did. And you spent a whole year following me around. Even after school, you had my attention immediately on those rare occasions we were at the same event."

Harry inclined his head, conceding the point. "I was going to get married, Draco. Married. I thought I could trust Sophia and you saw where that got me. Everyone did."

"So what are you going to do? If you never trust anyone again, you'll be alone for the rest of your life. Do you really want to live like that?"

"I still have Hermione and Ron so I won't really be alone. And I won't get hurt."

Draco frowned skeptically at him. "You're really bad at lying, you know that?"

"Damn it, yes I know that! But.....but....." He took several deep breaths, refusing to meet Draco's gaze. "I trust you with my life. You know that and all my friends know that. And I care for you, a lot. But I don't know what I'm doing here.

"All my life, people I...care for...end up as targets. They wind up hurt or dead, one way or another. Then I have to live with the knowledge that whatever happened was because of me. The ones who aren't used against me take in into their own hands to make me miserable."

Harry got up and started pacing, the memories getting him more worked up the more he talked. "I've been hurt more times than I care to remember and I'm tired of it. I don't want to go through that again. And if it was with you --"

"-- You can't know what will happen, Harry. It's all about taking a chance." Draco stopped and considered the boy in front of him. "I thought Gryffindors are supposed to dive in first and think later."

"I did that one too many times. I'm.........afraid to go there again," he confessed.

Harry walked toward the window, bracing his hands on the sill. Draco was frozen; he knew how much that admission cost Harry. He's scared. He's never scared, he thought. He got up and walked quietly over to Harry, wrapped his arms lightly around his waist, pressed a chaste kiss to his back, and rested his chin on the shorter boy's shoulder.

"I can't promise we won't fight; I can't promise we won't have rough patches; I can't promise it will work out perfectly; I can't promise I won't hurt you. But despite all those uncertainties, I still want to try."

Harry gazed at their wavy reflection in the glass. Draco's hands were splayed across his tanned stomach, fingers wandering slowly back and forth over the skin just above his jeans. His own arms had -- without his knowledge or permission -- made a home for themselves resting on Draco's arms. As he worked his way up, he could see Draco's grey eyes studying him. Pieces of his hair were tangled with blonde strands and there was a comfortable weight pressing into his shoulder in the form of the other man's chin.

He breathed the image in and relaxed slightly against the blonde's naked chest.

"What do you want, Harry?" he whispered.

Such a simple question, he thought bitterly. I wish the answer was that simple. And suddenly, it was. Now that he was here again, he couldn't imagine leaving. He knew without a doubt what he wanted. He glanced at the window once more before saying just one word. "You."

He turned around within the circle of Draco's arms and met his surprised gaze. "I want to try," he said softly.

Draco stared. He had hoped Harry would want to but he honestly hadn't expected him to say so. Shocked, he stood there still holding him and staring unresponsively. Harry smirked at him and movement spurred him into action. He leaned forward and captured the man's lips in a kiss.

Harry thought about deepening the kiss but it was so sweet that he couldn't bring himself to alter it. The kiss stretched on forever, neither breaking nor changing. Finally, Draco eased out.

"Come with me, Harry," he whispered, his lips brushing Harry's with every word. He took his hands and, walking backward, led him into another room. He continued moving until the back of his knees hit the bed and he pulled Harry down with him.

Harry's mind abandoned any pretense of thought as his body reacted to the other warm body wriggling beneath him. He quickly resumed kissing Draco, tilting his head and deepening the kiss immediately. Draco moaned softly and pulled their bodies flush.

Harry groaned at the contact. He broke free and held the lustful grey gaze. Draco trailed a hand down the center of his chest and smirked as the raven-haired man shivered. His hand reached the man's belt and deftly unbuckled it. He popped the button and slowly dragged the zipper down. He laughed lightly as Harry bit his lip to stifle a whimper.

Unable to take the slow torture, the Gryffindor sat up and shimmied out of his pants before divesting the Slytherin of his as well. Boxers soon joined the pile on the floor. He moved so he was straddling the man's hips and eagerly placed hot, open-mouthed kisses down the smooth expanse of pale neck below him.

He paused to tease his collarbone and toy with his rosy nipples. Draco writhed as the stimulation sent sparks straight to his groin. Harry ran his fingers through the downy trail of hair as he plunged his tongue in and out of his round bellybutton. Draco started babbling incoherently and Harry grinned.

He was about to resume his southward exploration when he was drawn up by his chin and enveloped in a searing kiss. While Harry was momentarily distracted, Draco rolled them over so he was on top. He slowly pressed their bodies together as he asked, "Have you ever had sex with a guy before?"

Said man gasped and his eyes went almost comically wide but whether that was from the question or the sensations, Draco wasn't sure. Harry tried to speak but nothing came out so he settled for shaking his head.

"Draco, I've only been with one other guy and we never got that far," he said by way of explanation.

"Really?" he asked, slightly awed.

"Yeah."

"Well," he said as he rolled onto his back again, "do you want to?"

Harry idly traced patterns along Draco's stomach as he thought. He figured they would have sex eventually and they were both incredibly turned on right now so why not just go for it? But he's probably used to more experienced guys and I really don't want to make a fool of myself, he thought morosely.

Draco watched the play of emotions across Harry's face and had a pretty good idea what he was thinking.

"Harry." He shook off his daze and looked at Draco. "I don't have anything to compare you to."

"What? You're a --"

"-- Virgin? No, definitely not."

"Then what do you mean?"

"I've never...never...bottomed before." Draco inwardly cursed himself for stuttering.

"Why not?" he asked curiously.

Draco sighed, not really wanting to divulge this much so soon. But one look at the open, caring look on Harry's face was enough to make him spill. "A lot of trust is needed if you're going to bottom because it hurts the first few times. I haven't found anyone I trust that much."

"But you trust me?" Harry asked, inhaling sharply.

"Yes."

Draco's answer was nearly drowned out as their mouths crashed together. While Harry was otherwise occupied, he spread his legs and settled the raven-haired man firmly between his thighs. He then reached over to the drawer beside the bed and pulled out a tube of lube, placing it in Harry's hand.

Harry snapped it open and squeezed a glob onto his fingers. He gently prepared Draco, taking care to watch the other man's face for signs of discomfort.

Draco was getting rather impatient but knew not to rush this. His impatience was quickly forgotten, however, when Harry's finger crooked just so. Harry immediately stilled his fingers and was about to take them out when the blonde spoke.

"Do......that.......again," he breathed haltingly. As Harry obliged him, he made a high-pitched keening noise.

"Fuck me, Harry," he begged.

Harry looked into dilated eyes, sparkling silver just a sliver along the edge. "Don't you need to roll over?"

"I could but I want to see you; I want to see your face," Draco said. Harry felt a warmth suffuse his chest that had nothing to do with their current state of undress.

"Please, Harry," he whispered softly.

-

He collapsed on top of Draco.

Draco sighed contentedly and lazily tucked a strand of hair behind Harry's ear. He smoothed his hands down the tan back as Harry came down from his pleasure high.

"I never would've pegged you as a screamer, Potter," he said teasingly.

The Gryffindor pushed himself and gingerly eased out of the Slytherin. He softened the pain with a tender kiss.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

"I'm more than okay," Draco replied with a smile as he pulled Harry close again. "I'm right were I want to be."