Seven Days in June

June 18^th, 2005

"Slept well, Potter?"

Harry felt his face heat up before he was able to remind himself that Malfoy could only be talking about his sore feet from the day before, because he definitely had no way of knowing that Harry had woken up twice during the night from very disturbing dreams. All right, perhaps not actually that disturbing - they might have been considered perfectly normal wet dreams if they hadn't left him with an afterimage of the person he'd been dreaming about. As a result, Harry had had to begin the day with another cold shower because he'd be damned if he brought himself off to the image of Malfoy licking his fingers.

He decided to ignore the question and looked around the underground platform where Malfoy had already been waiting for him. "I always thought the word 'underground' had something to do with, you know, being underground? This looks like we're on a bridge."

"That's because we are." Malfoy turned to leave and gestured for Harry to come with him. "The underground line crosses the river here, and I suppose bridges are easier to build than tunnels."

"Okay, but a stop on the bridge?"

"Well, how else should people get to the island?"

"Island?"

Malfoy gave him the indulgent look Harry had already got to see a few times during their tour the previous day. "Yes, Potter, island. That's what the name Donauinsel means - it's an artificial island between two arms of the river Danube. It was built as a part of a huge flood control plan, but by now it has become Vienna's number one local recreation area. And that's all the tour-guiding you'll get from me today, freebies are bad for business."

Harry shrugged and followed Malfoy down a flight of stairs that led to an exit underneath the bridge, next to the river. Across the water, the city came right up to the riverbank, but on the island itself, there were no other buildings to be seen, just trees and unkempt-looking meadows. A narrow, paved road, lined by bushes, ran parallel to the water.

Only now, Harry remembered that one important item seemed to be missing. "Where's your bike?"

"Over there." Malfoy walked around the underground exit to the other side of the building where a couple of bikes were locked to metal bars sticking out of the ground. From here, Harry could see for the first time that they were indeed on an island - it was much narrower than he'd expected; the second arm of the Danube seemed merely a hundred metres away. On the other side of the water, the city began again; the view of a long line of huge concrete blocks just across the river made the small patch of green in between look almost surreal.

Meanwhile, Malfoy had returned with his bike and gestured towards the small road Harry had noticed earlier. "Let's go."

"Where are we going?"

Malfoy smirked "For the sake of your dignity, I thought we'd better get away from the area next to the underground stop. It's early, but there will soon be a fair number of people around here, and you probably don't need an audience when you're making a fool of yourself."

"How very considerate, Malfoy. I didn't know you had it in you."

"There's a great deal you don't know about me, Potter."

Harry found he had no ready answer to that.

They walked in silence for quite a while. The sky was overcast, but it was still warm; Harry could hear children laughing somewhere close by and the distant buzz of the city from the other side of the river, but apart from that, there was only the gurgling of the water and the sounds of birds and insects. They passed a few people sitting on benches who were feeding ducks and swans, then a couple of teenagers on roller blades, but the farther they got, the lonelier the island seemed to become. The scenery changed too: there were no more benches or playgrounds, the trees grew taller, and the meadows were replaced by thickets of bushes and weeds.

Harry looked around; there was no one else in sight anymore. Even the sounds of voices in the distance had faded a while ago. "This place didn't seem so big at first glance."

"That's because the island is quite narrow, but it's more than twenty kilometres long. I think we've gone far enough now." Malfoy stopped and grinned at Harry. "Ready to kiss the pavement, Potter?"

+++

At the third attempt, Harry finally managed to cover a few metres before he lost his balance; on the downside, this meant that he hit the ground a lot harder than the first two times. It took him a while to disentangle himself from the bike and get to his feet again, careful not to give any signs of the burning pain in his right arm where the rough pavement had scraped away the skin.

He fully expected Malfoy to laugh at him again - like he'd gleefully done the first two times - and was quite surprised to see him frown. "Okay, Potter, you've tried it your way. Will you now finally let me cast a Cushioning Charm before you break something?"

"Don't tell me you give a damn about my bones, Malfoy," Harry snapped while he dusted himself off.

"I couldn't care less about your bones, but I'm beginning to worry about my bike. I need it this afternoon, remember?" Malfoy stepped closer and grabbed Harry's arm. "Look at that, you moron, you're bleeding!"

Harry tried to yank his arm away, but Malfoy didn't let go. "Leave me alone, it's nothing!"

"What, healing charms are too sissy for the resident hero, too?"

"No, but I can cast one myself."

"Oh, really." Malfoy rolled his eyes. "How many complex spells have you managed to cast since you came here, Potter? It took me years to get used to the way this place drains magic, and I very much doubt you were able to manage it in two days. And now hold still, for pity's sake!"

Somewhat baffled by the sudden outburst, Harry complied. Malfoy slowly ran his free hand over the bleeding arm while his lips moved soundlessly; his other hand was still holding Harry's wrist. His fingers felt warm and firm against Harry's skin, and Harry was suddenly very glad that Malfoy was looking at his elbow and not at his face because he felt his cheeks beginning to heat up.

Oh, sod it. Who am I trying to fool?

He took a deep breath and finally allowed himself to face the facts. All right, so he was attracted to the git. It was only natural, after all; Malfoy had cleaned up rather nicely, and since Harry was currently facing a persistent dry streak in his love life, it wasn't surprising that he would react to him on a purely physical level. There was no need to worry about it; it wasn't as if he were planning to act upon this attraction. Malfoy would never know, and after today, Harry would probably never see him again anyway.

It wasn't until Malfoy let go of him that Harry noticed the pain was gone. He inspected the unmarred skin, impressed despite himself by Malfoy's handiwork. Malfoy watched him with a frown; when Harry kept quiet, he finally said in a rather affronted tone, "You're welcome."

Harry sighed. "Thank you, Malfoy. I suppose you were right about the Cushioning Charm, after all."

"Wonders will never cease." Malfoy let his backpack slide off his shoulder - Harry fleetingly wondered if he ever carried it the way it was intended for - and reached inside. "Wait a moment, that one works better with a wand."

"You seem to use a lot of wandless magic."

Malfoy shrugged. "It's a necessity. There are only so many situations where it's possible to wave a wand around when one lives among Muggles. Most of the time, I have to be more inconspicuous than that, so I get a lot of training. It's just the more powerful spells or the ones I rarely use that I still need my wand for."

He cast the charm and gestured for Harry to get on the bike again. Harry did so, gingerly arranging himself on the uncomfortable saddle. It was an awkward position to be in, one foot still on the ground and the other one on the pedal, the bike at an odd angle between his legs and the saddle poking him in all the wrong places. He shifted his weight a bit and almost yelped in surprise when his lower back came in contact with an arm: Malfoy was holding on to the bicycle, and he didn't look as if he were planning to let go.

"We'll try it differently now. It's much easier to go at a higher speed, so I'll give you a good shove to start you off and then hold on for as long as I can to help you keep your balance. The worst that can happen is that you fall again, and with the charm in place there won't be much harm done. Just try not to fall on top of me, okay?"

"I'll do my best." Harry took a deep breath and kicked down on the pedal, struggling to right the bike and get his other foot on the second pedal at the same time. The bike wobbled dangerously for a moment, and he would have toppled over if it hadn't been for Malfoy's quick reaction when he grabbed Harry's shoulder to keep him upright. With the other hand, Malfoy gave the saddle a hard push that made the bike shoot forward and almost caused Harry to lose his balance again. "Just keep going, Potter, I've got you."

Determined not to make a fool of himself again, Harry started pedalling and realized that Malfoy had been right: it was much easier to keep his balance once he'd picked up a bit of speed. Malfoy soon had to run to keep up with him, but keep up he did, his arm a warm, secure presence at Harry's back, his other hand gripping Harry's shoulder. It was a bit distracting, and Harry did his best to go faster to shake him off. There was another difficult moment when Malfoy finally let go, but Harry managed to keep going.

This isn't so bad, he couldn't help thinking. The whole thing still felt rather unstable, and he really couldn't detect any similarities to riding a broom - a broom didn't start to wobble under you when you dared to shift by as much as a millimetre, and when you were flying, you didn't have to worry about bumps and cracks in the pavement that threatened to tip your balance either, but he still thought he might be able to get the hang of this if he had a bit of time to practise. If no one expected him to do stunts like turning or stopping, that was.

Unfortunately, the latter would be unavoidable soon. From the sound of it, Malfoy was still running after him, but he seemed to fall back; finally Harry heard him shout from quite a distance, "Not bad, Potter. Now stop!"

Harry pulled the brakes - much too hard, as it turned out, because the bike came to a halt so abruptly that he almost did a somersault over the handlebars. In a desperate and quite inelegant manoeuvre, he managed to get one foot on the ground and half hopped, half fell off the bike as it slipped away under him. He probably looked like the world's greatest prat in the process, but at least he didn't hit the pavement again.

By the time he'd sorted himself out, Malfoy had caught up with him; he was slightly out of breath, but grinning as if Christmas had come early. "Potter, I could kiss you right now. The image of the stunt you just pulled will remain one of my most precious memories for the rest of my life."

"Oh, shut it, Malfoy." Still, Harry couldn't quite manage to feign annoyance; he had to grin himself when he tried to imagine how he must have looked. "I must admit, this was fun. I still like flying better, though."

Malfoy's face darkened slightly for a moment, and Harry winced, realizing a split second too late that he'd put his foot in his mouth again - given what Malfoy had told him about flying the day before, the remark had been pretty tactless. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to - "

Malfoy cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Forget it. Care for a break? Preventing you from smashing your head on the pavement is hungry work."

+++

"Do I dare ask what exactly I'm eating here?"

Malfoy had just taken a huge bite; it took him a while until he could answer. "Don't like it?"

Harry eyed the content of his bread roll. It looked like a kind of meaty paté with a crispy crust; the smell was enticing and the taste surprisingly spicy. It was still hot, probably thanks to a Preservation Charm. "No, it's quite good, just unfamiliar. What is it?"

"It's called Leberkäse. You were whining about not eating Austrian food yesterday, so I brought the most Austrian snack I could think of."

"What's it made of?"

"Horse meat," Malfoy answered with a deadpan expression.

Harry had been about bite off another mouthful, but now he quickly lowered his roll. "Oh, come on!"

"I'm quite serious. Most butchers use pork and beef nowadays, but the original recipe asks for horse meat, and you still get it in a few places. Tastes much better than the other stuff, believe me." He grinned smugly when he saw Harry's expression. "Squeamish, Mr Hit-me-with-the-local-cuisine?"

Harry shot him a glare and quickly took another bite. "Try me."

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Potter," Malfoy replied mildly.

Deliberately not thinking about horses, Harry finished the rest of his roll before he addressed Malfoy again.

"You didn't happen to bring anything to drink, too?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes and reached into his backpack. "I live to serve."

Harry inspected the bottle of fizzy, yellowish liquid suspiciously. "Anything I should know before I drink this?"

Malfoy shrugged. "It's an Austrian soft drink that's allegedly made from herbs, although I wouldn't bet on it."

Harry tried it cautiously. "Tastes a bit like ginger ale." Only then did he look over at Malfoy. "Hey, you brought a water bottle for yourself?"

"I can't stand this sticky sweet stuff." Malfoy took a sip and smirked at Harry. "It was you who asked for the local variety, was it not?"

"You're determined to make me eat my words, aren't you?"

"Of course," Malfoy shot back. "Literally, too."

+++

By the time they had finished their lunch, the sun had come out behind the clouds. Harry couldn't resist the temptation to flop back onto the grass where they were sitting and bask in the glorious warmth for a moment. The sun was right above him, so he closed his eyes, which turned out to be a mistake - because the next thing he knew was waking up with a profound feeling of disorientation.

He opened his eyes and turned his head in the direction where Malfoy had been before. He was still there, and he didn't seem to notice that Harry was looking at him. He was sitting with his legs crossed and his left hand stretched out, palm up, in front of him; there was an expression of deep concentration on his face, and his eyes were fixed on three small pebbles that were slowly circling in the air above his hand. While Harry was watching him with wide eyes, he picked up another pebble with his free hand and placed it on his palm; after a moment, it rose into the air to join the swirling dance of the other three.

"Malfoy," Harry finally said in a hushed voice so as not to startle him, "what are you doing?"

Malfoy didn't look up, and his concentration didn't seem to waver since the pebbles kept up their slow movement. "Just playing around, Potter."

He snapped his fingers, and the pebbles dropped into his palm. Only now did he turn his head to face Harry. "Slept well?"

"I didn't mean to fall asleep. How late is it?"

"Just past twelve. I don't have to pick up my group until two, so I thought I'd let you have your beauty nap."

Harry ignored the obvious attempt at returning to their earlier bantering. "That was quite an impressive display of wandless levitation."

Malfoy shrugged. "Just a bit of nostalgia. I used to practise here during my first years in Vienna."

"You came here to practise wandless magic? Why?"

"I couldn't afford my own flat then, and it's almost impossible to do magic at all when you're sharing with several other people. So I came here, to one of the less frequented spots on the island, to practise. I'd had a bit of tutoring in wandless spells, but not very much; I had to make up most of it as I went along."

"But couldn't you just, I don't know, have locked yourself in the bathroom or something? Why come all the way to the island?"

"Have you tried doing magic here, close to the river? It's a bit easier than in the rest of the city, and in the beginning, when I wasn't yet used to the effect this place has on magic, even this small difference was of some help."

Harry frowned. "Why would it be easier here?"

"The water gets around, Potter. Here in Vienna, no one did any magic for centuries; there's nothing for a wizard to work with than his own innate magical energy. That's not the way it's usually done, of course; we all got trained to work in a magical environment, where we could draw from the resources around us as much as from our own. In this place, there aren't any, but the water comes from other places where things are often different, and it carries a bit of their magical energy with it. The greater the river, the stronger the energy, so the Danube is quite a source to draw from."

"How do you know all this? I don't remember hearing anything about it at Hogwarts."

"Perhaps you were preoccupied with other things at the time."

From Malfoy's neutral tone, Harry wasn't able to tell what exactly he was implying. "Whatever. So you came here to practise wandless spells to - what? I bet there still wasn't much you could do among Muggles."

"True." Malfoy's eyes were fixed on the water; he never looked at Harry when he continued. "Still, I came here quite often. Sometimes I practised spells I might be able to use in a Muggle environment, sometimes I just played around with something because I felt like it." He flung one of the pebbles into the river where it disappeared with a sounding splash. "There were days when I spent hours spinning pebbles in the air just to remind myself that I was still a wizard."

Harry remained silent; he felt there wasn't anything he could say to that. He knew that Malfoy had brought his fate upon himself, and that he'd been luckier than many who had paid a much higher price for lesser sins than his. Given their past history, he didn't quite have it in him to pity his erstwhile enemy for what he must have gone through - but he still suspected that the image of Malfoy sitting by the riverside and making pebbles dance over his palm would stay with him for a long time.

+++

"Any plans for the rest of your stay yet, Potter?"

Harry had been staring out of the streetcar window, lost in thought; now he quickly turned his head. "I... well - I'm not sure." They were on their way back into the inner city; Malfoy had graciously allowed Harry to come along to where he was supposed to meet his group, since it was right in the city centre. "I thought about going outside the city for a day or so. You know, to see a bit of the countryside."

"Yes, it's quite obvious you're not the city type. Where are you planning to go?"

"Any recommendations?" Harry smirked at Malfoy. "Oh, I forgot - no freebies."

"Damn right, Potter. But if I were you, I suppose I'd catch a train and go to see the Wachau valley since you seemed quite taken with the river Danube."

"What's that?"

"Like I said, it's a valley the Danube flows through before it reaches Vienna. It's very beautiful - steep hills covered with vineyards and apricot orchards, lots of nice little towns, and a few impressive castle ruins. It's packed in summer, but the most touristy season hasn't quite started yet."

"Sounds good. I'll consider it, thank you."

Malfoy merely raised an eyebrow, as if he hadn't expected Harry to thank him. "My pleasure. Right, we're getting off the tram here - we're right in front of the City Hall, you shouldn't have any problems with finding your own way from here."

Harry followed Malfoy off the tram and found himself in front of a huge square, flanked by parks, that lead up to a towering, spire-topped structure built from white stone. "Is that the City Hall? It's rather impressive."

"Fake neo-gothic kitsch," Malfoy murmured with a dismissive wave of his hand; he seemed preoccupied. "It seems my colleague is already here - okay, Potter, it's been..."

Before Malfoy could finish what had clearly been intended as a hasty farewell, a young woman on a bike stopped right in front of them and bombarded him with a long string of German. Malfoy didn't even have time to reply before she noticed Harry and said something that sounded like a question. Malfoy sighed under his breath.

"Gerda, this is Po... erm, Harry Potter, a former schoolmate of mine. He's on holiday in Vienna, and I've been showing him around a bit."

The woman's dark eyes widened. "A schoolmate! That's interesting, I've never met anyone from your past!" She spoke with a strange accent, but her English was still quite good. She shook Harry's hand and beamed at him. "It's nice to meet you - I'm Gerda, one of Draco's colleagues." Harry couldn't help smiling back; she had a round, open face, dimples in her cheeks and the most contagious smile he'd ever seen.

"Nice to meet you, Gerda. Are you two doing tours together?"

"Only at the moment. I'm usually doing the bicycle tours, but I will soon have to go on maternity leave, and Draco will take over from me." Now that she mentioned it, Harry noticed the telltale bulge under her loose T-shirt. "Do you like Vienna so far?"

"Very much," Harry replied politely and, as he had to admit to himself, truthfully, "I've only been here for three days, but I've seen quite a lot."

"Well, you've been in good hands." She smiled at Draco, who seemed to suppress a grimace. "You never said anything about a friend of yours visiting!"

Draco opened his mouth, and Harry was sure he was about to point out that they were anything but friends, but all he said was, "I had no idea, we ran into each other by coincidence."

Her eyes grew even rounder. "Are you serious? What are the chances?" When Draco didn't answer, she added, "It's too bad you have to work today. But of course you can bring Harry along tonight!" Draco opened his mouth again, but he didn't get a chance to protest because she'd turned back to Harry. "There's a group of us, all tour guides, who meet for a game of Trivial Pursuit once a month. We're meeting at my flat tonight at seven, and you're welcome to join us."

"Er..." Harry cast Malfoy a glance, but Malfoy merely shrugged. "That's very nice of you, but I don't speak any German."

"No problem. It's a very international group anyway, and everyone speaks at least a little English. Here's my card with the address of my flat - seven o'clock, remember?" She winked at Harry. "I can't wait to ask you a few questions about Draco's past; he's quite mysterious, you know."

Harry bit back a smile when he saw Malfoy's face darken. "I'm looking forward to it. I'll see you then, Ma... Draco."

Malfoy shot him an unreadable look. "It certainly seems that way, Harry."

+++

Harry felt a bit nervous when he rang the doorbell at Gerda's flat in the evening. He was running late since it had taken him longer than anticipated to find the place, and he could hear the buzz of voices in the background when Gerda opened the door.

"Harry, I'm glad you decided to come! Draco and Ali just called to say that they'll be late, but everyone else is here already. Come in!" She ushered him in and closed the door behind him; only now did Harry notice the little girl that was holding on to her leg and eyeing him suspiciously. Gerda said something in German, which caused the girl to turn her head away and hide behind her mother. Gerda grinned. "That's my daughter Nora; I told her to say hello, but she's a bit shy around strangers. Give her an hour, and she'll be all over you."

Harry did his best to smile at the girl, who seemed about the same age as Ron and Hermione's daughter, but only got a glare in return. He usually was quite good with children, but Nora seemed a tough one to charm.

He followed Gerda into the living room, where a dozen people were sitting around a coffee table with a Trivial Pursuit board on it. They were chatting noisily, but fell silent when Gerda shouted over the babble. "Okay, we're switching to English now, Harry doesn't speak German. Everyone, this is Harry Potter, a schoolmate of Draco's who's visiting Vienna. Harry, I'll introduce you to the lot, but don't worry, we don't expect you to remember all the names."

She started ticking off names and countries of origin; Harry counted eight different nationalities between the twelve people around the table. "You really meant that bit about being an international group, didn't you?"

She grinned again. "Tour guides are an international bunch by tradition. It won't be until Ali arrives that the Austrians are even the majority here, the Russians always manage to outnumber us."

A brunette, very pretty woman in her early forties stuck her tongue out at her and then turned to Harry. "You went to school with Draco? Tell us about it, he never talks about his past!" The black-haired man next to her elbowed her in the ribs and said something in German. Gerda raised her eyebrows. "Hey, Michele, English, remember? Harry, you have to forgive him, Michele speaks every Romanic language known to man, but English somehow doesn't agree with him." The man merely smirked at this, his huge dark eyes glinting mischievously, so Harry supposed he had at least understood what she'd said.

"Come, sit over here." The young Asian woman on the sofa moved over far enough for Harry to sit down next to her. "Just ignore those nosy questions; if Draco doesn't want to discuss his past, that's his business and no-one else's."

Harry was about to answer truthfully that he had no intention to start dishing out any kind of information concerning Malfoy - Draco, he reminded himself, he had to get used to the idea of addressing him by his given name tonight - when the doorbell rang again.

Gerda went to open the door and soon came back with Mal- no, Draco, who had his arm around the waist of a young blond woman Harry recognized; she'd been the one waiting for him at the opera two days ago. The woman didn't wait for any introduction, but went straight over to Harry and extended her hand. "Hello, I'm Ali."

Harry scrambled to his feet and shook her hand. "Harry Potter. It's nice to meet you." She was quite pretty and had a beaming smile, but Harry couldn't help feeling slightly alarmed by the look she gave him; he hadn't been under this kind of scrutiny since he'd last run afoul of McGonagall during his time at Hogwarts.

"Likewise. Draco told me a lot about you."

Harry did his best not to show his surprise. "Did he now?"

Draco, who had stepped up to her, gave her a dirty look. "I'd rather say that she asked a lot of questions about you."

"To which you gave very evasive answers." Ali flashed Draco a smile that seemed much too sweet to be true. "Not that I'm not used to that kind of thing from you."

"Seriously, I don't understand why you two ever bothered to break up." Gerda, who had just come back into the room with a tray full of wine glasses, shook her head in mock astonishment. "You still behave like an old married couple."

"Very funny." Draco took a glass from the tray and gave his ex a final glare. "Speaking of old married couples, where's the boyfriend tonight?"

"Working late weekend hours again." Gerda gestured for Draco and Ali to sit. "He told me not to wait for him, so let's get started, okay?"

Draco made a beeline for the unoccupied chair that was farthest away from where Harry was sitting, but the young woman next to Harry was faster. "Draco, I think you should sit beside your friend tonight - you're best suited to translate the questions for him since you're the only other native speaker of English."

Before Draco could protest, she had stood up and moved over to the chair, leaving him no other choice than to sit down next to Harry on the sofa. Draco made a face, but sat anyway. "It's not as if he's going to know the answers to any of the questions - this is the Austrian edition of the game, isn't it?"

"Yes, but not all the questions are that specific." Gerda seemed thoughtful. "But you're right, it might be difficult. We could play in teams of two tonight; you can pair up with Harry and help him out!"

Harry gave him a smirk. "That went well, didn't it?" He'd been speaking in a low voice, and Draco pretended not to have heard him.

+++

"Harry, you're making the British schooling system look really bad."

Funny, Harry thought, how Draco managed to pronounce his first name in a way that made it totally clear that he actually meant to say Potter. "Didn't you always tell me I was an idiot back at school?"

"Yes, but I never expected to be proven right so spectacularly." Draco rolled his eyes while everyone around was grinning - they probably thought the exchange was a bit of nostalgic banter between old friends. "You don't recognize a bleeding Churchill quote? What kind of Brit are you?"

"One who isn't interested in Churchill?" Harry asked innocently, which made the people around them grin even more. Still, he had to admit, he really hadn't contributed much to the game yet; he'd never realized before just how clueless about the Muggle world he truly was. If it hadn't been for Draco, they wouldn't have earned a single point so far.

"This just goes to prove you overestimate your beloved home country a little bit in that regard, Draco dear." That was Ali, giving Draco a look that seemed almost triumphant.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Oh no, you won't get started on this again. Harry, I have to warn you: back in the distant past of her teenage years" - he ignored Ali flipping him the bird at this - "dear Alienor here spent a year at some posh public school in England, an experience that left her with a ridiculous upper-class accent and a deep loathing for the British schooling system, which she absolutely has to rub into my face at every occasion."

Harry bit back a remark how Draco was one to talk about upper-class accents at the last moment; it wouldn't do to give away any information concerning his background, since Draco was obviously very secretive about it. All he could think of to say instead was a lame, "Oh, really?"

"Yes, really. Stay away from the topic of school in general if she's present, and don't ever mention anything concerning school prefects. I don't want to hear it!" he added in Ali's direction, cutting off something she'd obviously been about to say. "Since in your country you've never had anything like them..."

"Oh, we did, we just called them capos," Ali interrupted him with a shrug. Harry had no idea what she meant by that, but from the way everyone around was wincing and the murderous look Draco cast her, he assumed it must have been a rather low blow.

Gerda was shaking her head again. "I really don't get the two of you. Harry, just ignore them, that's normal conversation for them. Okay, Michele, it's your turn!"

Somewhat relieved, Harry leaned back and watched the game continue. It was quite a novel experience to listen to the buzz of voices speaking English with many different accents and in varying degrees of fluency, and he would probably have enjoyed it if it hadn't been for the prospect of being asked to make a fool of himself again soon.

Before it was his turn to answer another question, however, his rescuer arrived in the person of little Nora. She had been playing quietly in a corner for a while, but now came over to tug at her mother's t-shirt and whisper something to her. Gerda answered in a low voice; when she noticed Harry watching the exchange, she gave him a strained smile. "She's a little bored, I'm afraid; she prefers being the centre of attention whenever guests are around."

Harry recognized a way out when he saw one. "Do you want me to play with her for a while? If she doesn't mind that I can't speak with her, that is."

Gerda seemed quite relieved. "Oh, that would be great - are you sure you don't mind?"

"No, it's fine. Draco is probably doing better without me anyway, and you won't have to translate all the questions into English just so that I can fail to answer them."

Gerda grinned at this and said something to her daughter that probably was an admonition to behave. "I told her you don't speak German. It won't be a problem, there are plenty of immigrant children who don't know much German in her kindergarten group, so she's used to that." The little girl looked at Harry cautiously, but still offered him her hand. Harry took it and allowed himself to be dragged away from the table.

Once Nora had Harry sitting in her corner with her, she pulled out a picture book from under a heap of stuffed animals and put it in his lap, giving him an expectant look. When Harry opened the book, which was filled with pictures of farm animals, she inched closer to him, pointed at the page and started babbling away. For a while, she seemed content talking to herself while Harry did his best to make vaguely affirmative noises. Only when she started pulling at his sleeve, he realized that she'd been repeating the same word several times. Harry frowned; at this point, it was probably necessary to remind her that he hadn't magically acquired the ability to understand her.

"I'm sorry, little one, but I have no idea what you're trying to tell me."

Nora said the word again and stabbed her finger into the page, which showed a few ducks in a pond. "Ente!" When Harry merely looked puzzled, she tapped one of the ducks in the picture impatiently. "Ente!"

It dawned on Harry that he had signed up for his first ever German lesson.

+++

Harry had the sneaking suspicion that Nora couldn't talk very well herself yet, but she still seemed hell-bent on teaching him. She had a look of rapt concentration on her face when she pointed out one animal in the book after the other and then stared at Harry until he obediently tried to repeat what she'd said. The result often caused her to giggle and shake her head at this strange grown-up who couldn't even speak properly, but at least she was obviously having fun.

It took Harry a while to notice that the buzz of voices in the background was fading. Only when he registered that the room was now totally quiet, he looked up from the book and saw that the game had stopped because most of the people were watching him and Nora.

"Oh my God!" The pretty Russian woman had an expression of rapt adoration on her face. "That's the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life!" There were various "Awww" noises coming from people all around, and Harry felt his face heat up while Nora beamed and waved, clearly basking in the sudden attention.

Gerda's grin almost split her face in two. "She's probably seen the kids at the kindergarten get German lessons and thought it might work for you too. Are you making progress?"

Harry couldn't help grinning back. "A bit, although I'm not sure I always understand her correctly. I rather doubt that the German word for cow is 'Moo', for example."

Gerda giggled at this. "It's close. You're great with children, you know - do you have any of your own?"

"No, but I'm quite an experienced godfather. My goddaughter's about her age, so I get a lot of practice."

"Don't tell me." That was Draco, the familiar sneer back on his face. "Weasley and Granger started producing the next generation of red-heads?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, but Bess has brown hair." Harry did his best to return the sneer. "But she's Ron and Hermione's daughter, yes."

Ali, who had been in a whispered conversation with the black-haired man named Michele, suddenly turned around and gave Harry a smile that somehow made him feel uneasy. "It seems a pity that a man who's so good with children doesn't have any of his own."

Harry merely shrugged. "I'm probably not father material." He hoped the underlying message It's none of your damn business had been clear; it wasn't overly polite, but her remark had been rather out of line too. Even Draco seemed to think so, because he was frowning at his ex, who just shrugged in return. Determined not to let the woman unsettle him further, Harry turned back to Nora and her book.

+++

Harry was quite relieved that the game was over by the time Gerda took Nora to bed and he could return to the table. The conversation had been going on in German for a while, but everyone switched back to English once he sat down on the sofa again. For most of them, Harry thought, it probably didn't make that much of a difference anyway which foreign language they had to speak.

"So, Harry," said one of the men sitting opposite of him, helping himself to another glass of wine from the open bottle on the table, "is there anything else you can tell us about you apart from the fact that you'd make a great kindergarten teacher? Or is that what you do for a living?"

With a shake of his head, Harry declined a refill of his own glass which the man was offering; he'd have to tread carefully now, so he'd better keep his wits about him. "No, nothing like that. I work for the government." It was a standard answer that Muggles usually accepted; besides, it was even the truth after a fashion. "It's a rather boring desk job most of the time, but it pays okay."

"I never thought you'd end up behind some desk in an office." It surprised Harry that Draco of all people would challenge him on that; he'd have expected him to steer the conversation away from the topic as quickly as possible.

Harry shrugged. "It didn't start out that way, but by now, paper work is pretty much all I ever get to do." That, too, was unfortunately true; it wasn't that Harry missed his chaotic first year in the Auror corps, right after the defeat of Voldemort, when they still had to hunt down the last of his followers. It had turned out to be the bloodiest part of the war, just when everyone had already thought it was over. Still, his expectations for his job had been very different from what he was actually doing now.

"It's a good thing you're getting away from it for a while then, isn't it?" The Asian woman who had switched seats with him leaned forward in her chair. "What did you see of Vienna so far?"

Glad to be back in safe territory, Harry started talking about the sights he'd visited; everybody seemed to take a professional interest, and there were suggestions coming from all around as to what else he shouldn't miss during his time in Vienna. Harry couldn't help thinking that he'd have to stay for seven months, not just seven days, to see everything they were recommending.

Meanwhile, Draco had fished out his ever-present backpack from under the sofa where he'd stashed it and was rummaging through the contents. Finally, he pulled out a book that was badly battered and covered in post-it notes. "Speaking of plans for the rest of your stay, I brought you my guide book for the Wachau valley in case you really want to go there. It's in English, and there's some extra information I've added every time I was there, so it might be useful."

He held out the book at Harry, who stared at him in surprise. "I, erm, I mean - thank you..."

Gerda had just come back into the room and heard the last sentences. "You're going to the Wachau? Oh, that's a lovely idea, you might even get to try the first apricots of the year!"

This immediately triggered a discussion whether the apricot season had really begun already and if there even would be any this year since the spring had been cold. Harry didn't want to mention that he really didn't care for apricots; he leafed through the book instead and noticed a sheet of paper stuck between the pages that turned out to be a railway timetable, with the trains he had to take highlighted. He turned to look at Draco, his astonishment growing. "What happened to the 'no freebies' thing?"

Draco gave him a smirk. "Ali thought that I shouldn't allow you to get lost somewhere on the way, which you undoubtedly would have. Just make sure that you give the book back to me; I've been using it ever since I started guiding tours to the Wachau, so it holds all my notes."

Harry still wasn't sure what to think about this unexpected display of helpfulness. "Yes, of course. You need to give me your address, though."

"It's on the front page of the book. Send it back via mail or drop it off at my place - you can put it in my letter box if I'm not at home."

Harry opened the first page to look for the address; what he first noticed, however, was the publication date. "You started doing tours there three years ago?"

"Yes, why?" There was a slightly defensive edge to Draco's voice that confirmed to Harry that he was on to something.

"But you've been working as a guide for longer than that, haven't you?"

"Yes, but not outside Vienna." In a low voice that no-one else but Harry would be able to hear, he added, "Drop it, Potter, okay?"

"Right." Harry went back to leafing through the book. Three years since Draco had started leaving the city; three years since the death of Voldemort. Something told Harry this was no coincidence. "Thank you for this, it will come in handy."

+++

When Gerda's boyfriend returned home at a quarter to midnight, looking tired enough to collapse where he was standing, everyone got ready to leave. Harry got an introduction to the Austrian custom of good-bye kisses on both cheeks, which took some getting used to from women who were still virtual strangers. Still, it seemed common for women only to kiss people of their own gender, which he was somewhat grateful for because he really had no intention to give Draco a peck.

"It was so nice to meet you, Harry." Gerda looked around the group of people in her corridor who were busy trying to find their own pair of shoes among everyone else's. "Do you want me to call a taxi for you? The tram you'd need isn't running at this hour any more, and the night bus system is a bit complicated."

"I've got my car here." Ali seemed to have appeared out of nowhere at Harry's elbow. "You're staying at the Ibis, right? That's on my way home, I'll give you a lift."

Being alone in a car with that woman wasn't something Harry was particularly keen on. "That's very nice of you, but I wouldn't want you to inc-"

"Nonsense." Ali cut him off with a wave of her hand; out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Draco snickering in the background. "It's no problem at all."

"You don't happen to go home via the eighteenth district, sweetheart?" Draco wrapped his hands around Ali's waist from behind and leaned his chin on her shoulder. She smiled and turned her head to kiss him on the cheek, but then swatted his hands away. "Very funny. If you think I'll cross the whole city twice just because you're too lazy to take the bus, you're sorely mistaken."

Draco made a face and released her. "It was worth a try. Listen, I'm out of the city for the whole day tomorrow, but I'll call you in the evening, all right?" With a final wave at Gerda and a brief nod into Harry's direction, he was out the door.

Harry looked after him for a moment, not sure what to make of his behaviour tonight. For a split second, the question whether he was even going to see Draco Malfoy again crossed his mind, but he resolutely pushed it away. Nothing could ever come out of this, so it might just as well end here.

+++

Harry got into Ali's car in silence, but he was convinced that things wouldn't stay that way. Indeed, the moment Ali had manoeuvred the car out of the rather tight spot where she'd parked it, she said in a tone that sounded way too casual to him, "Can I ask you a question?"

"If I say no, is that going to stop you?"

She threw him a quick glance. "Did Draco talk to you about me?"

He couldn't help grinning at this. "He may have mentioned a thing or two."

"Damn the bastard," she murmured, although she didn't sound particularly upset. "So, can I? Only, it's a bit personal."

Harry shrugged. "Be my guest."

"You're gay, aren't you?"

For a moment, Harry didn't want to believe he'd really heard her correctly. "Okay, listen, I don't mean to be impolite, but there's a line between 'personal' and 'rude', and you've just crossed it."

She kept her eyes on the road, obviously unfazed by his annoyance. "You realize that I'll take that as a yes."

"How the hell is it any of your business?" Harry was doing his best to remain calm, but he still felt his temper rising. "Look, if you're planning to keep this up, I'd appreciate it if you just stopped the car here and let me take a taxi instead. Who do you think you are, the Spanish Inquisition?"

"I'm sorry," she replied calmly, "I didn't mean to offend you. This isn't really about you, it's about Draco."

This wasn't what Harry had been expecting. "What does he have to do with it?"

"When he talked about me, did he tell you why we're no longer together?"

"No, but I think I have an idea by now!"

She grinned at this, although Harry really couldn't see what was so funny. "So you think that he broke it up?"

This gave Harry pause. "Didn't he?"

"Definitely not; he was quite upset when I told him that I thought our relationship wasn't going anywhere."

Harry frowned at this. "Looks like you get along all right to me."

"Oh, we've been friends for years, ever since we did our tour guide training together; we just didn't work as a couple. He does this a lot, you know - dating girls he was friends with before. He usually goes back to being friends with them without a hitch after a while. There was just one exception, and that was a total disaster."

Against his better judgment, Harry's curiosity won out. "How so?"

Ali stopped at a red light and turned to face him. "Her name was Lena; he met her about three years ago and fell for her at first glance. I've never seen him like this before - they were all but joint at the hip for almost a year, although no-one understood what on earth he saw in her because they had absolutely nothing in common. I always wondered if she reminded him of his mother or something like that."

The light switched to green, and Ali focused her attention on the road again while Harry tried to determine whether she'd been fishing for information with her last remark. "What does she look like?"

"Lena? Short, somewhat stocky girl - snub-nosed, but quite pretty with long brown hair and huge dark eyes."

"Then she's nothing like his mother." Harry decided that he could safely volunteer that bit of information. "Sounds like a twin of his girlfriend back at school, though." With a tad of malice, he added, "You know, now that I think about it, you look a lot like his mother."

She seemed horrified, which filled Harry with no small amount of glee. "I really could have done without knowing that!"

"Then I suppose you shouldn't ask about things he obviously didn't want to tell you about."

She gave him a calculating glance. "You think I'm just a nosy, interfering bitch, don't you?"

"You mean you aren't?" If she wanted to go for brutal honesty, Harry thought with grim resolve, two could play that game.

To his surprise, she smiled at this. "Fair enough. Listen, I'll be upfront with you. He's my best friend, and I'm used to looking out for him. I don't mean to trick you into telling me about his past; he says he's left that part of his life behind for good, and I respect his decision. Besides, I think I've figured out everything I need to know about it on my own."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "What did you do, hire a private investigator?"

"Oh, please, give me some credit. It's totally obvious that he's a spoilt upper-class boy who's fallen on hard times; I gathered that he had some kind of horrible falling out with his family and left Britain in a hurry. I first met him about half a year after he arrived here, and it was still impossible to miss then that he'd never lived on his own or worked for a living until six months before. He was always trying to hide just how clueless he was about everything, and he was too damn stubborn to ask for help, even when he really needed it. It was rather exasperating, but I still couldn't help admiring how he managed to get by."

There was genuine fondness in her tone, and Harry deflated a bit; however obnoxious the woman was, it was clear that she truly cared about Draco. Her assessment of his background hadn't been that far off the mark - at least, not for someone from the Muggle world. He fleetingly wondered how Draco had overcome the technical pitfalls that a pureblood wizard was bound to encounter when he tried to live like a Muggle. Where had he got the necessary papers? He really couldn't imagine Lucius Malfoy's son having a fake passport lying around in his Manor just in case he ever needed to leave the wizarding world in a hurry. It wasn't that hard for a wizard to forge Muggle papers, although it was of course illegal for anyone but Aurors on special assignments to use them - but you had to know about them first, which the Draco Malfoy from Harry's school years most likely hadn't. Harry remembered his own introduction to the wizarding world and tried to imagine what it would have meant to be stranded there without anyone to help him adapt. The idea was downright frightening.

"That's all very well, but I still fail to see how your friendship with Draco gives you the right to pry into my private affairs."

Ali made a sharp turn to the left and stopped the car in a narrow side street. "Here we are, your hotel is just around the corner. You can get out of the car and leave, or you can stay and hear me out on this, at the risk of me saying things you don't want to hear. It's your choice." Her expression was deadpan, and Harry did his best to match it; he knew a challenge when he heard it, and he wasn't going to run now.

"Fine, I'm listening."

She opened her seat belt and turned towards him. "Very well. You weren't exactly friends with him when you went to school together, were you?"

Harry gave a derisive snort. "That may be the understatement of the century."

"Yes, he said as much."

"He's been talking about me?" Harry didn't know what to make of this; he really hadn't expected Draco to tell his Muggle ex about their schoolboy enmity.

Ali smiled. "When I met him right after that city walk two days ago, he told me he'd just run into his least favourite schoolmate, and although he said he didn't want to talk about it, he kept bringing it up. Yesterday, he rang me up when he came back from dinner with you and complained at length how you were still the same insufferable prat you'd been at school, and then got defensive when I asked him why he'd still offered to take you to the Danube island the next day. Today I came over to his flat before we went to Gerda's place, and he talked about nothing but you falling off the bike the whole time."

Harry made a face. "Yes, I bet he loved that."

She gave him an exasperated look. "Please don't act as if you didn't know what I'm really saying."

"What, that your straight ex-boyfriend has a secret crush on me? You'll have to do better than that."

"What if I tell you that I broke up with him because I am convinced that he's really more interested in men?"

This left Harry speechless for a moment, which earned him a smug grin from her. "Your expression right now is about how he looked at me when I told him that."

"You told him? Are you serious?" Harry tried to picture that scene and gave up; it felt almost surreal even to imagine it. "How on earth did Draco Malfoy react to his girlfriend informing him that she considers him a closet case?"

"I think 'stunned' about covers it." She smiled fondly. "I half expected him to freak out, but he took it quite calmly - as if the idea had never even occurred to him and he wasn't sure how to deal with it now." Her smile turned mischievous; Harry couldn't shake off the feeling that she was secretly enjoying this. "Michele had been predicting it for years, although never to Draco's face - I suppose I should have listened to him sooner."

Harry rolled his eyes. "And Michele's what, your personal gaydar?"

"Well, he says it takes one to know one, and so far, he's never been wrong. He was right about you, wasn't he?"

"I thought this wasn't about me?"

"Listen, Harry. I'm not blind, I can see that you're interested in him. I don't know you, I have no idea what you're hoping to get out of this, and frankly, I couldn't care less. I do care about him, though, and I know how vulnerable he is right now while he's still trying to figure things out about himself. The last thing he needs is someone who might still hold an old schoolboy grudge against him waltzing into his life and using him for a cheap holiday fling. I don't want to see him get hurt, and if you're planning to hurt him, I'll do everything I can to stop you. Do I make myself clear?"

Harry was taken aback. "You think I'm trying to make him fall for me as some kind of twisted revenge?"

"Are you?" She'd become very serious.

"Most definitely not." Harry shook his head, still boggled by the idea. "Look, Ali, I'm not planning anything. All I know is that two days ago, I ran into someone I thought I'd never meet again in my life, and he'd changed so much that it made me curious about him although I'd hated his guts when we were children. That's all there is to it - I'll be leaving three days from now, and I probably won't even see him again before I leave."

"I don't believe the last part for a second, but the rest is still good to hear." She was smiling again now, although it didn't quite reach her eyes. "However, I will tell him tomorrow that Michele thinks you're playing for his team - he can make of that whatever he wants, and if you're really not going to meet him again, it shouldn't concern you."

Harry didn't have it in him to remain annoyed with her meddling; she was looking out for someone she cared for, and he found he couldn't really hold it against her, even if she went about it with the charm and subtlety of an attacking hippogriff. "Tell him whatever you please, it doesn't make any difference to me."

"Very well, then. Have a good night, and enjoy the rest of your stay." To Harry's surprise, she leaned over and gave him the two customary pecks on the cheeks. "Oh, and when you cross the street, remember to look to your left first, okay?"

He couldn't help grinning at this; obviously her need to save people from themselves didn't stop at her ex-boyfriends. "Yes, Mum. Thanks for the lift!"

She gave him a little wave as he closed the door behind him and then drove off, leaving Harry standing in the dim light of the streetlamp and shaking his head in bemusement.

+++

He was still not certain what to make of the talk with Ali when he stepped into his hotel room; his thoughts kept returning to everything she'd told him about Draco, and he caught himself wondering what it would mean if she was right about him being in the closet.

Stop it, for pity's sake. It wouldn't change anything, and you know that. Still, his musings had left him with the kind of images that had been popping up in his mind at the most inopportune moments for two days now, and despite his best efforts to keep his dirty fantasy in check, his body was reacting to them. He was getting heartily sick of cold showers, but there was no way he'd be able to sleep like this now.

Cursing under his breath, Harry went into the bathroom, stripped and squeezed himself into the tiny shower stall. He was already reaching for the tap and bracing himself for the sting of freezing water on his skin when a sudden thought made him pause.

Who was he trying to fool at this stage? Himself? That definitely had stopped working a while ago.

Feeling oddly dejected and relieved at the same time, Harry turned on the hot water and stepped under the spray, his hand already drifting towards his erection. He lowered his head, braced his free hand against the tiles and started stroking himself with swift, brisk moves. He did his best to keep the whole affair as mechanical and perfunctory as possible; this wasn't about anything but letting off steam so that his libido would hopefully leave him alone for a few hours. He didn't try to suppress the images his mind presented him with, but didn't let himself dwell on them either, although he couldn't help it that it was the memory of Draco licking ice cream off his fingers that finally sent him over the edge.

He quickly finished his shower afterwards and got ready for bed. It was well past one a.m., and he felt dead on his feet, but sleep still wouldn't come for a while. He'd satisfied his body's immediate needs, but despite his hopes, it hadn't managed to put his mind at ease. Harry kept tossing and turning in his bed, his thoughts returning to scenes from the past two days - Draco spinning the pebbles over his palm, Draco telling him that he missed flying, Draco tossing his hair back over his shoulder in a move that would have looked girly on anyone else, but somehow looked casual and elegant on him.

Harry finally drifted off while he was mulling over the question whether the spell Draco's mother had used on him had only worked on his head or if Draco's hair was now black all over. The last thing that crossed his mind before he fell asleep was a pang of regret at the realisation that he wasn't ever going to find out.