Unforseen Alliance

The laughter flowed out of the doors of the den as Ron and Pansy Weasley walked through the hallway. As one they turned to look at each other.

"I thought we had everyone out," said Ron in a confused manner. The exhaustion was clear in his voice.

"So did I; I thought I'd gotten everyone when I put the kids to sleep. The only one still here was Harry," Pansy said, approaching the door to the den, slowly she cracked it open and peered in. "Oh my...Ron, come look at this," she said, motioning for him to come closer.

He did, peeking through the crack in the door and his jaw fell open. On the armchairs near the fire, drinks in hand sat Harry and Draco Malfoy. Harry was speaking. He was gesturing wildly, as he tended to do when he had too much to drink, and Malfoy...Malfoy was laughing!

"Come on," said Ron, pushing open the door and pulling Pansy in with him. As they drew nearer, he heard more and more of the conversation.

"So Hermione couldn't come, and it was just Ron and I. You should have seen her, she had a tail! Anyway so we made it to the common room somehow and there you were. Of course we knew after the first ten minutes or so that you couldn't possibly be the heir..."

Malfoy was nodding. "I actually remember that, I thought it was odd how those two just ran out all of a sudden. Crabbe and Goyle never ran anywhere. I just can't believe it...a Polyjuice Potion in second year. That's so advanced..."

"Yeah, well we couldn't have done it without Hermione. She was the brains of the outfit after all."

"Granger was always the brains of the outfit. She had to be...what with you two for companions."

Ron picked that moment to cut in.

"Telling him all our secrets, Harry?"

Harry jumped and looked up. His eyes were bloodshot but he was smiling and he motioned for Ron to sit down.

"Hey mate! I was just telling Draco about the Polyjuice Potion in second year."

Draco!?

"I heard," said Ron scowling. He didn't sit down.

Pansy approached the group and Harry jumped from his seat unexpectedly, wrapping an arm around Pansy's shoulders.

"This was a wonderful party, Pans. I had a great time," he slurred his words and wobbled a bit on his feet. Ron had the feeling that if Pansy had not been there to support Harry, he would probably topple over.

"I'm...glad you enjoyed it, Harry," said Pansy. She shot a panicked look at Ron, mouthing the word 'Pans' with a disturbed look on her face. Ron shook his head in confusion. They were both at a loss. The red-head watched as Draco stood as well, reaching out a hand to him.

"Thank you for opening your home to me," he said, gazing around the den. "It really is beautiful; you should tell me who does your decorating sometime."

He glanced over his shoulder at Pansy who was trying desperately to hold up Harry who was apparently regaling her with the tale of how he conquered a dragon.

"Is he going to be alright?" he asked uncertain.

"Who, Harry? He gets like this a lot. Ever since everything that happened with Herm. Just don't get him on the subject of You-Know-Who, unless you want to hear every curse-word in the history of the English language...not to mention some in French."

Malfoy laughed and Ron scowled again. Why was he talking about this with him?

"Ron! I can't find my keys mate! Come on!" shouted Harry, stumbling over and throwing an arm around Ron's shoulders. "Les go find 'em."

"Harry, you've gone completely nutters if you think I'm going to let you drive in your condition."

Malfoy was standing next to Ron, smirking. "Well, well, well...Potter can't handle his liquor."

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry, but he was smiling.

"Harry, I'm not letting you drive home," Ron said, motioning to Pansy to help him out.

"We have plenty of guest rooms, Harry. Why don't you just stay here tonight."

Harry shook his head vigorously. "Can't. Dogs need to go out."

"Floo powder?" asked Pansy.

"Remember the last time?" said Ron with a grimace and a significant look at Pansy.

"Why doesn't he Apparate?" said Malfoy curiously.

"You think he can Apparate in this condition? Plus, he let his license expire...he never used it anyway. He likes to drive," said Ron with a worried expression on his face.

Harry was scowling. "I can fine just drive," he grumbled, not even realizing he'd mixed his words.

"Harry dear," said Pansy soothingly, walking over to help Ron with Harry's weight. "You can barely string two words together."

"I'll Apparate him," said Malfoy after a pause. "I need the address though."

Ron's mouth fell open for the second time that night. "Wha-I-Are you sure?"

"I don't mind," he said simply, his face a blank slate. Harry seemed to have zoned out completely and he was humming the Chudley Cannons fight song.

"Oh Draco, you're a dear! I'll go pull the address," said Pansy, striding over to a little catalog box on the mantle. Harry wobbled a little on Ron's shoulder when Pansy's support was lost.

"I don't know if this is such a good idea...maybe I should do it," Ron mumbled.

"Don't be daft," said Pansy. "We're exhausted; we've been running around the house all night. Best let Draco do it."

"How do we know he's not drunk!" said Ron in a paranoid way. "He could be just as bad as Harry!"

"Do I look drunk to you, Weasley?" said Malfoy dully. He moved forward, flinging Harry's arm over his shoulder and hoisting him up a little, transferring the weight to his own shoulder.

"Here you are!" said Pansy cheerily, handing the card to Malfoy. "It's a little flat about six blocks away."

Malfoy nodded slowly, hoisting Harry again, studying the card he held in his free hand.

"Alright, I know where this is. It really was a great party, Pansy. Thanks for the invite."

"Oh, you're welcome. Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin," said Pansy winking at Draco.

Draco nodded, and the sound of Harry saying distinctly "Oh! Draco! Could you pass the sugar?" filled the den. There was a pop and they were gone.

In the silence that followed, Ron turned to gaze at his wife astonished.

"Pansy, dear, are you sure that was an entirely good idea?"

Pansy took a seat in the armchair Harry had vacated. "No, I'm not sure."

It looked as though Ron was about to speak but Pansy lifted a hand to halt him. "But I do know that Draco is a good guy, and I know that Harry's had a lot on his mind lately."

"Do you have a point?"

"Ronald!" she hissed, scowling at him. "Let me put it this way: not everyone carries their childhood grudges into adulthood."

Ron 'hmphed' but didn't say anything more.

***

There was a loud pop outside Harry's apartment building as Draco Apparated them both. Labouringly the blond lugged Harry to the stairs and sat him down; the famous golden boy collapsed back against the stairs immediately.

"Merlin, you're heavy, Potter," he said scowling.

Harry waved a dismissive hand. "I know I'm Harry Potter; you don't need to tell me that. Everyone always says that when they first meet me. S'a bit annoying."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I said heavy. Not Harry."

"Oh...s'warm out," said Harry, wavering a bit as he attempted to sit up.

"That happens when our side of the earth gets near the sun. It's called summer. Now get up, I don't know which flat is yours and I'm not risking the fact that you might fall down the stairs without my help," Draco ordered, standing over Harry with a hand out to help him rise.

Harry took the hand and Draco pulled, with a good amount of tugging on Draco's part and much attempting to sit back down on Harry's. They eventually achieved their goal and Draco half-carried, half-shoved Harry up the stone stairs. They made their way through the doors of the apartment building, after the extensive length of time in which Harry took to find his keys.

When they reached the door to the apartment Harry threw open the door and stumbled in, ignoring Draco who peered around the door frame into the small flat but didn't enter. A large clattering sound was followed by a curse and Draco couldn't help but chuckle, taking a small step in. "Why don't you turn on the liiii-ARGH!"

Something - no - two somethings, had just plowed into him, sending him sprawling backwards to lie half-in and half-out of the threshold to the flat. The next thing he knew he was being licked by those somethings and the light from the hallway told him what he had suspected. Potter's dogs.

"Malfoy...Draco? What's wrong?" Harry slurred, and Draco watched as he stumbled forward.

"Dogs!" Draco gasped out as the little one pounced on his stomach.

"Oh..." said Harry disjointedly. "Oh! Shakespeare! Plato! Back off!"

The two dogs complied rather reluctantly and Draco sat up as Harry flipped on the light. Draco eyed the dogs warily from his spot on the ground.

"That is the second time tonight some strange Potter offspring has run into me," he mused.

Harry blinked bemusedly, looking from Malfoy to the two canines panting contentedly by his side. "They're not exactly offspring," he offered, scratching the side of his head.

"I don't know...I think this one inherited your hair," said Draco, ruffling Shakespeare's shaggy head and standing.

"Very funny," Harry mumbled. It looked as if he was attempting to keep his eyes focused. Malfoy was regally brushing off his pants, gazing around the dimly lighted flat.

"Potter," he began, patting Harry softly on the shoulder. "You are most definitely trashed...but you have a nice place here."

"Thanks," said Harry, and without warning he stepped away from Draco and headed into the kitchen.

A moment later he returned with a pair of leashes, wobbling precariously as he attempted to link them to the dog's collars. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Honestly, how you expect to walk them if you can't even get them on the leash is beyond me. Budge over, let me do it," he said, bumping Harry out of the way with his elbow and taking hold of the clasp.

"Now, see, this isn't so difficult," he continued once each dogs was secured to their respective leash. He glanced up to see if Harry was paying attention and found him bouncing on the balls of his feet and humming to himself. Draco let out a huge sigh; he'd really hoped to get home before dawn.

"Why don't you let me do it?"

"Huh? Oh no, they only go in this one spot and you don't know where that is," Harry finally managed.

"You could tell me," said Draco, and then watched as Harry picked up a pencil from the hall table and studied it as if it were the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. "Or not."

There was a silence as Harry looked around for the dogs, calling for them...when they happened to be sitting right in front of him.

"That's it. I'm coming with you."

"What? Why?!" protested Harry. "You honestly think I can't walk my own gods?"

"Yes," said Draco, he was trying to hide the smile threatening to overtake his lips.

Harry was still protesting when Draco pulled him out the front door of the apartment building. After several attempts to get Harry to hold on to the leashes, Draco had given up and was now walking the dogs alongside of a stumbling Harry.

They walked in silence for quite some time, the dogs trotting ahead of them. Plato weaved back and forth around Shakespeare so that Draco had to stop and unwind the leashes at regular intervals. Draco was still trying to resolve the mystery of how he came to be walking a couple of dogs with Harry Potter at - he checked his watch - four in the morning. Not that he minded much; he had found earlier in the evening that he much enjoyed Potter's company, which had been a surprise at best.

He cast a glance at the wobbling black-haired man. He was not so sure how he felt about him intoxicated, however.

"Potter, how much farther is this place?"

"Place?" asked Harry. Draco stopped immediately and narrowed his eyes at him.

"For the dogs," he coaxed, hoping to jog Harry's memory.

"Oh."

There was silence.

"Don't tell me we already -"

"Er," said Harry. "We passed it."

Draco threw up his hands in frustration and cursed. "That's it! We're in a park, there are trees everywhere. Surely they can find one they fancy."

Harry took a moment to digest this.

"We're in a park? We are! Look, they have swings!" And he wandered off toward them.

Draco was at a loss.

That was how he came to be sitting on a swing-set with Harry Potter beside him at quarter to five in the morning discussing, well, everything.

"You know what I hate?" asked Harry, having sobered just a bit in the past half-hour. He was gazing at Shakespeare and Plato, whom Draco had tied to a nearby bench to do what they wished. They seemed quite content with this state of affairs.

"What is that, Potter," Draco asked, swinging back and forth rather low to the ground.

"I hate life," he stated firmly.

"Oh, well, that isn't at all vague or equivocal."

"Huh?"

"Never mind, go on," Draco said, waving a hand.

"It's just that life is so full of everything trivial, so much changes and you have wonder, if it's going to change then what's the point of it ever having been in the first place."

"No, you wonder," Draco corrected.

"Whatever, my point is. If it's all going to change, why should it ever be? Maybe we should all just die, and then nothing will change, and nothing will ever get bad or worse and nobody would ever get hurt or make bad decisions."

"Potter," Draco said sighing. "You're drunk, and you're not making any kind of coherent sense. You need coffee."

"Damn it, Draco! I'm trying to make a point," Harry cried exasperatedly.

Draco smirked "Okay, you have a point; I'll give that to you."

Harry began to smile victoriously and Draco held up a hand.

"However, I'm going to have to override that point. If we were all dead, if nothing ever was, then despite the fact there would be no bad happenings, you realize that nothing good would ever happen either. There would be nothing, no joy, no pleasure. Laughter would never have existed; if you're dead, you can't live. The purpose of life is to feel, to sense, because dead things don't think, they can't remember and they can't contemplate anything...and I can't believe you've somehow tricked me into joining you in your drunken ramblings."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

There was a long silence as their minds worked around what had just been stated and tried to discern if it actually did make sense or not. Finally, Draco broke the silence.

"Did you ever realize that Voldemort had absolutely no life?"

"What?" asked Harry, perplexed as to where that line of thinking had come from.

"I'm serious!" Draco continued. "He probably spent years trying to figure out how to change a dorky ass name like 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' into something cool."

Harry laughed; something he'd been doing a lot of in the past twelve hours. "Even then...Voldemort sounds like some sort of fungus you find growing in your basement."

"I wouldn't know," said Draco, smirking. "I don't have fungi growing in my basement."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Is that some sort of weird innuendo?"

It was Draco's turn to laugh. "No, Potter. Honestly, your mind works in strange and twisted ways."

"Right; and yours doesn't?"

"That is another matter entirely."

There was a pause.

"It's getting light out," stated Harry.

"Indeed," said Draco, glancing up at the sky.

"I should probably get home."

"Suppose I should too."

Harry nodded, and then spoke. "Except...that I don't want to go."

"Why's that, Potter?"

"There's nobody there."

Draco frowned. "Isn't that normal?"

"Well...yes. But you're here. Hence the absence of solitude."

"Big words, Potter, you'll short circuit your mind."

"Shut up."

Draco bit his lip thoughtfully. "There's a diner around here that should be opening right about now."

"A diner?"

"They'll have coffee."

"Let's go," Harry stated firmly.

They'd gone to the diner, a few blocks from the park they had visited. They tied Shakespeare and Plato to a telephone pole outside the diner, and took a window seat to keep an eye on them. It was early still, and nobody was about to bother the two canines.

Breakfast was a normal affair in which they'd conversed in between sips of coffee and bites of eggs. Normal, of course, until Harry, out of boredom and a bout of insanity caused by lack of sleep, had begun flicking bits of bacon at Draco's head.

Said pieces came to rest in Draco's sacred hair.

Thus began a full on war.

They were expelled forcefully from the diner with a request never to come back.

It was all quite entertaining and entailed a great deal of laughter between the two of them. It was with contentment that Harry bid goodbye to Draco at the door of his apartment building at six am on a Saturday. His hands were stuffed into his pockets and the dogs waited expectantly at the top of the stairs.

"What are you going to do?" asked Draco curiously.

"Sleep, for a long, long while."

Draco moaned wistfully at the thought. "That sounds lovely. I think I'll do the same."

Harry smiled. "Thanks. For putting up with me, I mean."

A smirk. "It was a horrible burden that I bared with the bravery and courageousness of fifty Gryffindors."

"You are a veritable powerhouse of generosity."

"Quite."

There was a pause in which they both stared at their own feet, and Harry jingled his keys in his pocket.

"Well, I'm off," said Draco finally. "It was a pleasure, Potter. We should do this again sometime."

Harry snorted. "What? Wander around in parks until dawn and then get kicked out of diners for improper use of bacon?"

"Precisely. Goodnight, Harry."

He Apparated away with a sharp pop.

"Good morning, Draco," Harry said into nothing. Within minutes he was up the stairs and within seconds after that he was wrapped in bed, having fallen asleep far too quickly to contemplate the odd happenings of the past ten hours or so.

****

Time passed in which Harry was quite busy. Work was insane with the moving of the World Cup pitch, and he was enduring a great deal of criticism for his decision. Hermione was in Spain for almost two weeks and he'd literally had to bribe Pansy and Ron with good tickets to the Cup to get them to watch the girls while he worked.

In fact, he was so engaged he'd nearly forgotten all about the dinner party and the following events until almost a month later. He was wandering around Diagon Alley on his lunch hour when he passed by the alley that connected Diagon and Knockturn Alleys.

A reminiscent smile fell over his face and he made a hairpin decision, veering from his course to Florean Fortescue's and heading instead to the little shop between the alleys. He gazed up at the relatively new looking sign above the door.

Caffeinated Literature, it read. Harry chuckled at it, imagining a novel written by some eccentric author with a caffeine high.

When he entered the shop was lit with bright overhead lamps, though without the neon superficiality of most chain stores. It was comfortable and a handful of people occupied the various chairs, couches, and tables. Harry was distantly reminded of the Hogwarts library plus the warm scent of coffee. He wondered if Draco had taken that into consideration when he'd done the decorating...perhaps even done it deliberately.

He made his way over to a shelf, scanning the titles there, looking for anything that caught his eye. A woman in a black dress and apron approached him, offering to take his order. He smiled at her winningly.

"I'll have just a plain coffee, sugar, no cream and -"

He paused when he saw her staring amazedly at his forehead. He bit back a sigh. "Miss?"

"Huh? Oh, of course. Plain coffee, sugar and no cream. Right away, Mr. Potter."

He really did sigh this time and he reached and tapped her shoulder as she moved to bustle away. She looked shell shocked.

"Also, I was wondering if you could tell me if the owner is in?"

It took a moment for her to register what he was saying. "Oh! Yes, he's here. He's taking his break in a few minutes though. Would you like me to get him for you?"

"Yes, please," he answered, turning back to the shelf.

He pulled a book that looked interesting, The Secret Lives of the Hogwarts Founders: A Fictional Novel by Oliver Plitnik, and flipped open the cover, reading the inside flap.

"Interesting book that, Plitnik had quite an imagination...lot of love triangles though. At times it reads like a bad soap opera," said a voice over his shoulder.

He smiled and turned to rest his gaze upon Draco Malfoy. The blond man was dressed casually in a black button-up shirt and a pair of jeans. It was an interesting change from the formal wear of the dinner party.

"I hope you realize that the entire staff is in an uproar because of you," he said scowling slightly; his eyes were smiling. "Harry Potter is in the shop."

Harry laughed and glanced over at the counter where the girl who waited on him was whispering to another girl working cash register. He put the book back.

"If you're looking for fictional works on the founders I could direct you to a simply breath-taking novel by-"

"No thanks, I was just browsing," Harry said, cutting him off.

"Ah well, it was worth a try. Never pass an opportunity for a sale," said Draco, smirking.

"Of course."

The girl returned with his coffee and handed it to him, barely managing not to spill it her hand was shaking so badly. Draco watched her with an amused smile playing on his lips while Harry paid the girl and agreed to sign her order pad.

Once she had left he spoke again. "I was just about to take my break. Care to join me?"

Harry shrugged, sipping the hot liquid out of the large ceramic mug. "Sure."

"Brilliant, Leaky Cauldron?" asked Draco, taking hold of Harry's upper arm and steering him toward the door.

"Sounds good," said Harry, following along.

"Perhaps later I can get you to sign some of your biographies? There are quite a few..."

The Leaky Cauldron was packed for lunch hour. Wizards and witches from all walks of life were chatting and having drinks, populating the dark pub. Harry was just about to pull Draco over to a table before he lost him when a high-pitched voice pierced his ears.

"Draco!"

Draco turned toward the voice, as did Harry. It was a girl, no more than twenty-five and she was charging at Draco with her arms wide open for a hug. Harry winced.

"Trisha!" Draco said cheerfully in a far less shattering volume and tone. "I haven't seen you in awhile; how've you been?"

"Oh you know, same old," she said, smirking in a way which made Harry quite certain the girl had at one time been a Slytherin. Her hair was light brown and she had a mousy face with tiny dark eyes. He was frighteningly reminded of Peter Pettigrew, only prettier and in female form. He would have thought it was Pettigrew's daughter if he didn't sincerely doubt that the man had ever procreated.

"Who's this, Draco? You're new beau? My he's handsome! What's his name?"

Draco actually laughed, while Harry blushed and shook his head furiously.

"He's not my new beau; I don't even have a new beau. This is an old school friend of mine. Trisha Marks, meet Harry Potter."

Harry's eye twitched and he waited for the repeat.

"Harry Potter!"

There it was...and now the 'wow'.

"Oh wow, never thought I'd meet you, Harry. What on earth are you doing hanging about with riffraff like Draco?" she said and began cackling in a way which made Harry wonder if he was going to have an appetite for lunch.

"Just joking of course," she added.

Harry smiled weakly. "Nice to meet you," he said politely.

"Oh Draco, guess who's here! You'll never guess!"

"Who?" said Draco, sounding un-amused with a guessing game.

"Look, just over there. It's Brian," hissed the girl, smirking as if she'd just told him something of great import - which apparently she had judging by Draco's reaction.

His eyes went wide and he stumbled back a few steps. "Oh, imagine that..."

Harry focused his gaze on where she'd pointed. A man stood at the bar, about ten feet away, laughing at something one of his three companions had said. He was a tall, broad shouldered man, with chestnut hair that fell over his forehead and piercing ice-blue eyes. He looked almost like a model, Harry mused.

He was pulled out of his musings by Draco, who turned his panicked eyes on Harry. "You know, Harry this place is pretty crowded, how about we go someplace else for lunch, huh? I'm sure you know some great places, why don't we just...Yes, it was nice seeing you again, Trisha, right."

He was talking very quickly and Harry barely had time to realize what was going on before he was pushed, pulled, and tugged through the crowd and out the front door onto the Muggle sidewalk, streaming with people.

"Draco, what -"

"Where do you want to go?" asked the blond. He seemed much less panicked now that they were out of the Leaky Cauldron. He was acting as if nothing unusual had happened at all.

"Well, my car's just up here. There's this diner just -" Harry cut himself off, frowning. "Never mind, we've been banned from there. I know another place but it's a little farther away."

"That's fine with me, if you've got time," said Draco shrugging.

Harry nodded and pulled out his keys, pointing out the car to him.

Once inside Harry buckled his seat belt and started the ignition. He glanced over at Draco. "Aren't you going to wear your seat belt?"

Draco rolled his eyes but complied.

They weren't on the road two seconds before Draco was leaning over and fiddling with the radio dials.

"Oh, I have that dial set specifical-"

"Shut up, Harry." Harry did.

Draco grinned as a station he liked came in clear and leaned back in his seat. Harry wrinkled his nose.

"Who is that? Elton John?"

"Do you have a problem with Elton John, Potter?" asked Draco, staring ahead stonily.

"Well...not really, but -"

"Because if you have a problem with Elton John I may have to kill you," he said, and he didn't look like he was joking.

Harry swallowed, trying to keep his eyes on the road. "Uh...well I -"

He stopped when Draco burst into laughter. Then he glared.

"Yeah, ha-ha, very funny."

"It is, though. You're too easy, Potter," he said shaking his head. "Really though, how can you not like this song?"

Harry considered it, his eyes focused on the car in front of him. "I don't understand it, I think," he said finally.

Draco frowned, obviously trying to find a way to explain Tiny Dancer to someone like Harry. At least that's how Harry felt and he shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat.

"Well...I always thought it was pretty obvious. It's about this girl that traveled with the band and she was a dancer, obviously, but...well, it's more about love than anything else. This girl loved this guy in the band and they were together and... here, listen to the lyrics. It's really not that complicated. You probably just only heard the chorus." He leaned down and turned up the volume a bit.

Harry nodded. "Well...yeah."

"Plus it's set in America, something you know nothing about."

"Hey! I've seen films..."

Draco snorted.

"Oh, so you've been there, then?" said Harry patronizingly.

"After Father kicked me out, I went there...for a couple of years. You know the Wizarding World is so much more integrated into the Muggle over there. Music, cars, movies...that sort of thing is universal to both worlds in America."

"That's interesting," Harry stated musingly.

There was silence, punctuated by Draco singing along to the song. It ended eventually and as it did Harry was pulling up to the restaurant parking lot.

"So who was that girl in the Leaky Cauldron?" Harry asked, turning off the car.

"Who, Trisha?" Draco snorted. "Second cousin by marriage."

"And...the guy?" Harry continued tentatively. Draco stiffened visibly.

"It...nobody, it's not important, let's just go in," he said, throwing open his car door. Of course when he attempted to get up he'd forgotten that he'd put on the seat belt at Harry's request and thus got pulled back in with a thump when his head hit the top of the car. Cursing, he undid the belt, or tried to at least.

Harry fought not to snicker, he really did.

"It's stuck! Harry, the damned belt is stuck!" Draco looked up and found Harry sitting in the driver's seat with his hand over his mouth to cover the curl in his lips. He glared daggers at him. "What is so funny?"

Harry snorted loudly with the effort to keep in the laughter and it all came rushing out. Draco stared at him a moment with a blank face.

"Tell me you didn't just snort. Please tell me you did not just snort."

Harry snorted again and collapsed in silent laughter against the back of the seat.

"It's really not that funny," Draco interjected.

After a moment, Harry sobered enough to speak. "Um...it's not stuck. You have to push the button on the top, not the side. The button on the side adjusts it."

Draco glared at him while he pressed the button on the top and the seat belt came undone with a soft click.

Everything would have been just fine for Harry, had he not forgotten about the fact that he had to remove his own seatbelt and ended up doing the exact thing Draco had just done sans the stuck buckle. Draco teased him mercilessly the whole time they were waiting to be seated.

"So how are the girls?" asked the blond, while the waiter set their drinks in front of them and Draco had decided he'd tortured Harry sufficiently

Harry was a bit surprised by the question; having forgotten Draco even knew the girls existed and it occurred to him that had it not been for Brittany, he wouldn't even be here right now, having lunch with Draco Malfoy.

"They're fine; they're with Hermione actually. Next week they'll be staying with Molly Weasley. She takes them and Ron's girls every summer for a week."

"That's Weasel's mother, right?"

"Yes," replied Harry, scowling at the old name.

"Do you see them much - your daughters I mean?" asked Draco with a hint of sympathy.

"Well, I have them most weekends. I didn't see them much last Saturday because Seamus took them out for ice cream. They were a mess when they got home...I guess I should have known better."

Draco frowned. "Seamus, Seamus...you mean Finnigan? He's still around?"

"Yeah, he works in my office. Broom regulations."

The other man coughed and it sounded suspiciously like 'flamer'. Harry wondered vaguely what that meant and realized he was probably just hearing something that wasn't there.

"Have you ever wanted kids?" he asked finally, quietly.

"Well...yes. When I was younger I always said I wanted a big family," he said, shrugging. "I guess when I grew up and realized that I fancy men the idea left of its own volition."

Harry nodded in understanding.

There was silence for awhile before the waiter came to take their order. It wasn't until after their food had arrived that the conversation took an interesting turn.

"Do you have any Elton John MCD's?" asked Harry, swallowing a bite of his sandwich. MCD's were Magical Compact Discs...one too many young wizards tired of not having a way in which to listen to music.

"Yeah, a few. Why?"

"Well, I was wondering if I could borrow one, or two. I mean...if you say he's good, I suppose I could give him a try," he said a bit shyly.

Draco smiled brightly. "'Course you can. I'll drop them by sometime this weekend."

Harry smiled back, pleased and took another bite of his sandwich.

"Harry?" asked Draco quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Well, I know you told me all about your problems with Granger that night at the party and - well, I guess I should tell you who that guy was at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Huh?" Harry stated thickly. Then it clicked. "Oh! No, no, you don't have to if you're not comfortab-"

He waved a hand, silencing Harry. "It's okay. It's really not that big of a deal, I'm just...still kind of weirded by it all. Brian was...my boyfriend, of sorts. We'd been together for a long time and, well, he always had a bit of a temper. But I never thought he'd actually lash out at me, you know. I'd never thought I could possibly be put into the 'abusive relationship' position. Then one day I guess I was bitching a bit too obnoxiously...and he did."

He frowned, thinking and Harry didn't even think twice when reaching out a hand to place over his. "I'm sorry, Draco."

"No, don't apologize! I-I'm fine about it, really. I ran out of the house the minute he left the room, I had a restraining order put on him and moved out. I had to get out of there, too many memories; so I went to room with a few friends.

"The charm's supposed to last a year. I don't know if you know this but Wizard restraining orders are a lot like Muggle repellent charms, only it's just a little twinge he feels that gets more intense as he gets closer. If he touches me it's supposed to Apparate him straight to the Ministry."

Harry nodded that he understood.

"I don't know what I'm scared of. It's not like me to be afraid of...well anything. And I know the charm will hold but he's still...so much bigger than me," he said, taking a shuddery breath. "I haven't talked to him since that night and he could still be pissed at me. He could break me, and he knows it. The year will be up in a month and a half, and I still don't know if I should go and renew it. On the one hand, he could have forgotten all about it, and having the Ministry drag him in to apply another charm may just stir up even more bad feelings. On the other hand he's been brooding over it all year and the minute that charm wears off he's going to come looking for me."

There was a tense silence and Harry actually shivered. He jumped and pulled his hand back quick as a flash when the waiter came with their check. They each paid for their own meals and exited the restaurant.

They chatted easily about other things on the ride back to the Leaky Cauldron. Harry was about to drop Draco off in front, and drive back to work when he glanced at the man. He was staring shakily at the door of the pub, as if afraid of what he'd find inside.

"Let me walk you back to the shop," he offered.

"Oh no, you don't have to -"

"Nonsense. I have to sign those biographies, remember?" Harry winked at him.

Draco let out a shaky sigh. "Yeah...thanks."

Harry pulled up to the curb and parked.

"Don't think on it."

The trip to the shop was without event, no sign of Brian. Harry even signed a few of the books. He returned to work that day with a cheerful smile on his face.