Found, Never Lost

Chapter 6: Runner's High

Sunday, June 20, 2004
Berlin-Charlottenburg, 8:00

She quietly placed the mug on the nightstand beside him and slipped back into bed, care-ful not to wake him. It was early, eight o'clock, but she had woken from a strange dream that refused to be recalled and had been unable to go back to sleep. She leaned against the wall and sipped her coffee, its bitter blackness softened by sugar and cream.

Her thoughts wandered back to last night. Harry was normally a considerate lover who seldom gave up all self-control. He hadn't been exactly rough yesterday, but there had been an urgency to the way he kissed and touched her that was unusual. It had been one of the rare occasions when he sought release rather than pleasure, giving in to something... fierce within him. It didn't happen often that he let himself go completely, though, and she welcomed these moments of disinhibition.

She looked at him and smiled. He had changed a lot over the past four years. When they first met, she wouldn't have thought that he could ever be more than a roommate. Harry, with his pleasant voice, who was polite and quiet and way too solemn for his nineteen years. He had rented the bedsit under the roof in the small house she was sharing with two others at the time. His room had an outside staircase so that he could come and go as he pleased but had to use the front door when he needed to use the kitchen.

At first, she rarely saw or heard him, but then they started meeting in the kitchen more and more often when they happened to be home at the same time. Eventually it became their habit to have a cup of tea or a snack together and talk for a while about what each of them had done that day or were planning to do the next. From there, it did not take them long to occasionally watch TV together or go to the pictures, or simply sit in the living room - which he jokingly referred to as their "common room" - and read. And that was when she began to wonder about his lack of social contacts. He didn't seem to have any friends, and although he spent a great deal of time in libraries studying for some school degree and had a part-time job at a copy shop, he never brought anybody home and the only phone calls he received were work-related.

Casual inquiries resulted in little useful information. She learned that his parents had died in a car accident when he was a baby and that he had grown up with his aunt and uncle who sent him to a boarding school in some remote part of the country when he turned eleven. From what little he told her about his relatives, they sounded like unpleasant people and she certainly didn't blame him for not wanting anything to do with them.

However, he often mentioned two friends from boarding school: a girl with the odd name of Hermione and a guy called Ron, who had a bunch of brothers whose names she always got mixed up because there were so many of them. It sounded like the three of them had been close friends and she wondered what had happened to them. But when she asked why they didn't call or visit him, he mumbled something about a serious falling-out and that he had moved away to think about the past and deal with things in time. All further questions were blocked by polite but resolute statements that he did not want to talk about certain things and so she didn't ask...

He stirred and turned over, yawning. Stretched and blinked groggily. Sniffed.

"Hmmm, coffee?"

"I had a feeling that would wake you up." She retrieved his mug from the bedside table to keep it safe while he was fumbling for his glasses. "I'll never understand why you need your glasses to drink coffee."

"It tastes better," he assured her in all seriousness, took a sip and sighed happily.

God, she would miss him!

oOoOoOoOoOo

Harry had reached the point where heart, lungs, and legs - with minimal instruction from ears and eyes - were managing the run smoothly and efficiently. And since his body obviously didn't need it at the moment, his mind had gone off on a run of its own.

Draco.

Unfinished business.

What had brought Draco here?

Sort things out.

What was it about Draco that affected him so?

Draco in Berlin. Just like that.

Issues. - What issues?

Draco had not been Marked
They hadn't asked him to become a Death Eater.
What if they had?
Did it matter?

Draco was here.
Unmarked.
Unmarried.

June.
Lucius still in Azkaban.
Did Draco's mother know where he was?

Draco braving Muggle London.
And Hermione.
An airplane.
And Star.
A strange city in a foreign country.
Dinner with a room full of Muggles.
An unfamiliar bed in a hotel.
Risking his parents' displeasure and more.
For what?
Sightseeing with his ex-spouse?

What did Draco want from him?
Did it matter?
What did he want from Draco?

I walked out on him...

Haven't as much as written in seven years...

Life upside down...

Get to the bottom...

He had not done that in seven years either.

Wrong train of thought.

I want to be with you...

We can't be together...

Not like this...

Not until this is over...

I walked out...

Seven years...

Draco in Berlin...

It hit him so unexpectedly that he misstepped and needed to slow down to breathe away the stitch: how much courage Draco had shown by seeking him out - and what it could mean that we was here. And on the heels of this stunning realisation came the question why he, Harry, had not made more of an effort to get in touch with Draco - although, Heaven knew, he had thought about him often enough.

We were only seventeen...

Did you love him?

Hormones.

Denial!

More than a school fling?

God, how he had missed Draco! His sharp wit and dry sense of humour. His self-control and impeccable manners. His voice. The way he looked at Harry. Teased him. Held him. Mocked him. Kissed him. Pushed him. Always pushed him. For better and for worse...

The burning in his side subsided somewhat, allowing him to resume a light trot. Heading homeward now.

Why did I break up with him?

Opposite sides.
Edge of war.
Running out of time.

No way out.
Only one way around.

Switch sides.

Unthinkable.

For both of us.

I had no choice.

Why did I never contact him?

Bone-deep weariness.

The rumour mill grinding.

Papers regurgitating Malfoy-Potter - Potter-Malfoy.

Trials.
Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban.
Old families disgraced.

Hatred and remorse.
Never-ending nightmares.
Guilt.

We had no chance.

Until yesterday, he'd had no reason to believe that Draco's political views had changed. And until yesterday, he'd been convinced that Draco would not have wanted anything to do with him after the war; that he had long since moved on with his life...

And all this probably belonged on the agenda of an Unfinished Business meeting.

Harry slowed down some more, breathing deeply but easily. He felt better. A hot shower and something to eat, and he would be ready to face whatever the day - or Draco - might throw at him.

oOoOoOoOoOo

"So what's the plan for today?" Star asked when he joined her at the breakfast table some time later, proclaiming himself "shaved, showered, and about to starve".

"I don't know," he said, spreading a generous amount of butter on a slice of bread. "I can't think of any place that isn't bound to be crowded today. Draco's not a city person. Berlin on a Sunday is probably going to stress him out."

She chuckled and passed him the honey.

"He survived dinner with the sisterhood. That proves he's tougher than you think."

"True. Although they were quite, erm, civilised yesterday."

She shrugged. "Must have been because of him. Everyone's on their best behaviour around strangers."

"Why didn't you tell me that you invited them?"

There was her roguish grin again. "Maybe I wanted to feel him out a bit. See how he'd react to a bunch of strangers."

He stared at her.

"And here I told him that you don't lie or play mind games."

She reached over and levelled his hand to keep honey from dripping off the bread and onto his lap.

"I don't. Keeping things to oneself is not lying and introducing people to my friends hardly qualifies as mind games. That's a stress test at most. You, of all people, should know that." An odd look flickered across her face before her smile returned. "And by the way, just for the records, I didn't plan to have the girls over. It was a spontaneous idea." She took a sip of coffee. "So what are you going to do today? Show him the former East? The National Gallery? Museums? Cathedrals? The Zoo? How about the Botanical Garden? Didn't he talk about plants yesterday?"

Naturally, everybody had been curious what Draco did for a living, and he had responded with a complicated story about botanical research, peppered with many Latin words that were certain to put everybody but the most avid gardener off the topic in no time. Later he had told Harry that this had been another one of Hermione's clever ideas.

"He would like that." Harry grinned. "First we'll have to buy him some jeans and trainers, though."

She snorted. "He didn't bring tennis shoes? What's wrong with the guy?" But she laughed and winked at him when she said it, and he suddenly had the very disorienting feeling that he was not talking to the woman he had an intimate relationship with, but to... an older sister, almost. He wasn't sure if she behaved differently or if it was just his imagi-nation, but whatever it was, it made things easier for him and he felt a surge of gratitude for that.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

She appeared puzzled for a moment, then looked at him with an inscrutable expression.

"Just promise me you'll take care of yourself."

He nodded.

"I will."