Missing

Draco Malfoy looked up from his tea to witness the entrance of the last person he'd have ever expected to see in a bookstore in Muggle Chicago. Unless his eyes deceived him, and with his perfect vision he doubted they could, Harry bloody Potter was standing at the counter in jeans that must have been painted on him.

He hadn't seen him in how long? Eleven years? And the irony of that was not lost on him. They had survived their first eleven years without each other, and now another. Draco looked hard at Harry as he ordered from the flirtatious waiter, searching for something to hate.

Harry looked good, not that Draco was looking, mind you. But--he looked good. Tall, still well built, strong features, wavy dark hair, stunning green eyes--good. And then Harry smiled and Draco almost spit his perfectly brewed English breakfast tea out onto his newspaper. Harry smiled and it was almost as if the world stopped spinning on its axis and the sun was replaced as the center of the galaxy. And when he laughed at whatever that dim-witted waiter said, it caught the attention of everyone in the room.

As Harry took his drink and turned to leave, Draco was thankful he had not been spotted. But then it happened. Harry looked straight into his eyes and--and--he looked away and started to walk out of the store!

Draco Malfoy could stand many things, but being ignored or even overlooked was not one of them! He was not going to allow Perfect Potter to disregard him! That was a travesty!

Jumping up and throwing down a generous tip, he followed Harry out of the store and up Michigan Avenue, knowing that it was the wrong thing to do. Knowing it would only lead to trouble. Harry walked along and window-shopped, like a common Muggle. As he stopped to admire one picturesque window, Draco pounced.

"Somebody told me that the decorator of this window was a wizard," he said, stopping next to Harry. Even to his ears it sounded stupid. Harry had a knack for doing that to him.

Harry graced Draco with a smile and a laugh, but didn't look at him as he said, "Yeah, well, I stopped trusting in the make-believe a long time ago."

"What happened to your sense of imagination, Potter?" Draco asked, trying to sound snotty but really was dumbfounded at Harry's lack of reaction. This was the second time he failed to get a reaction!

Harry smiled again and turned to face his speaker. The smile didn't falter as he looked into the eyes of his childhood nemesis. "Oh, I don't know. A war ending, a best friend dying and the disappearance of someone you love can do that to a person."

Draco felt all of the air rush out of his lungs and he stumbled in asking, "How'd you find me?"

"Wasn't that hard," Harry replied. "Thousands of countries, millions of cities, we were bound to run into each other eventually."

Draco trembled as he asked, "And now? Now that you found me?"

"Now that I have found the missing 'criminal', suspected spy-for-the-light, dangerous mastermind, Draco Malfoy?" Harry asked, his dazzling smile reaching his intended victim.

"Yes," Draco whispered, his fear--of being caught, of seeing Harry, of being found by the one person he hoped had forgotten him--finally catching up with his mouth.

"This!" Harry said as his mouth closed onto Draco's and his arms encircled the smaller man.

Their lips mashed together in a violent way and then mellowed into a more passionate kiss. Draco felt as if his whole life depended on the outcome of that kiss, and in some ways it did. Giving it his all, he whimpered as the end came.

"Come home with me, Draco. I've missed you," Harry whispered, resting his forehead against his love. "You can run, but you can't hide. Not from me anyway."

And although every fiber of his being was screaming the negative, Draco knew he'd agree and he'd go anywhere Harry led him. It had always been that way and, even after eleven years, would always be that way.