Summer Rain

Chapter Three

Harry moped around his apartment for most of the day before finally deciding to take a shower and put some clean clothes on. On a whole he was angry, but the anger wasn't enough to stop him crying for an hour solid over a picture of him and Draco kissing at Ron and Hermione's wedding.

Harry was dozing lightly in his recliner chair when there was a light knock on his door. He frowned and swore. Didn't he make himself clear enough that morning that he wanted to be alone? He was tempted to ignore it, but he was always hesitant it may be an emergency or someone requiring assistance, so he reluctantly pulled himself up and went to answer the door.

A very dishevelled looking Draco stood there clutching Harry's jacket that he had abandoned at the restaurant the night before. Harry's face remained stony as he ripped the jacket from Draco's grasp.

"You shouldn't have put yourself out like this," Harry sneered and indicated the jacket in his hand. "Now, leave." Harry went to slam the door but Draco stopped it with his hand.

"Harry, wait. Can we talk?"

"Well, I can talk, but I don't know about you... I distinctly remember you having difficulty forming a decent goodbye," Harry snarled and tried to push the door shut again.

"Please?" Draco pleaded tiredly and Harry noticed for the first time that Draco looked, well, ill. He had dark smudges under his eyes and his pallor was pale and washed out, save for a light flush across his cheeks. A tiny bead of sweat trickled down Draco's temple and he reached up and brushed it away.

Harry took in Draco's appearance and couldn't stop himself thinking that, despite Draco's sickly appearance, he still looked unbelievably gorgeous. He hadn't changed much in the past five years, and the only obvious difference Harry could see was that Draco had let his soft blond hair grow out a bit and it hung loosely around his face to about his jaw line.

As if to punctuate Harry's suspicions of sickness, Draco covered his mouth and gave a raspy wet cough. "Excuse me," Draco said as he rubbed his chest.

"Fine. Ten fucking minutes to explain yourself, Malfoy," Harry said rudely and retreated into his living room, expecting Draco to follow without the need to invite him in. Harry sat back down in his recliner with his arms crossed stiffly across his chest and Draco perched hesitantly on the couch. Harry didn't feel obliged to offer tea or coffee.

"You have a nice place," Draco commented in an attempt cut through the icy atmosphere.

"Don't get used to it," Harry snapped. Draco coughed again and Harry had to fight to keep his face expressionless as it was obvious Draco's coughing was causing him pain.

"Sorry, I've been a bit ill with the flu these past couple of days," Draco said softly, though not really in an attempt to gain Harry's sympathy. Harry didn't comment. Draco looked and sounded so weak and helpless that Harry had to grip the arms of the chair to stop himself reaching out and hugging him. Why does he have to be my weakness? Harry thought to himself.

"Not sick enough to be out on a date last night," Harry muttered to himself but Draco heard and closed his eyes briefly. "You wanted to talk?" Harry said pointedly.

"I... um... who's the Aussie?" Draco asked despite promising himself he wouldn't.

"He's my boyfriend," Harry bit out.

"Oh. Have you... been, er, together long?"

"A year and a half and he hasn't walked out on me without a goodbye yet. Must be some sort of record for me. Not that it's any of your fucking business," Harry said viciously. Draco sighed and looked down at his lap.

"I deserved that."

"Fucking right you deserved it!" Harry spat. "Why are you here? I know it wasn't to return the jacket because you could've given it to Lucas last night."

"I came to explain..." Draco said and looked up at Harry, who was staring up him through narrowed eyes.

"It's a bit fucking late for that!" Harry exploded.

"Harry, please, just give me a break!" Draco cried loudly and winced when pain ripped through his sore throat.

"A BREAK?!" Harry screeched. "YOU WANT A FUCKING BREAK? WHERE WAS MY BREAK FIVE YEARS AGO, DRACO? HEY? WHERE WAS IT?!"

Draco bit his lip and looked away. He couldn't stand seeing Harry so angry at him but he knew it was inevitable and he deserved Harry's wrath for the way he treated him. Draco knew that he should've waited until he was well again before coming to confront Harry, but after seeing his beautiful ex-love in the restaurant, Draco knew he couldn't wait.

Draco put a hand to his forehead and rubbed slightly at his aching head. "Could I please get a glass of water from your kitchen before we go any further?" Draco murmured.

"Whatever," Harry waved his hand dismissively, not bothering to offer to fetch the drink for his guest, but his eyes didn't leave Draco.

Draco stood and moved sluggishly over to Harry's kitchenette, but as he approached the dining table, he swayed violently and fell to the floor in a heavy faint. "SHIT!" Harry cried and jumped up and raced over to Draco.

Draco had knocked his head on Harry's hard, polished floor when he fell and there was a small cut above his eyebrow, which was starting to bleed. Harry felt Draco's forehead and realised he was burning up and his face was covered in sweat. He was also very congested and wheezing for breath.

Despite his remaining anger towards his blond ex-boyfriend, Harry was not cold enough to leave him lying passed out on the floor. Harry lifted Draco into his arms with a grunt and carried him through to his bedroom and laid him carefully on the bed. He then pulled off Draco's shoes and jacket before propping him up on some pillows to help his breathing.

Harry pulled a light blanket down from the top of his wardrobe and tucked it around Draco and then grabbed a wet wash cloth and his first aid kit from the bathroom. Harry lived in a muggle suburb and he was reluctant to perform any magic whilst at home, so Draco's cut would have to be cleaned and dressed the muggle way.

Harry wiped down Draco's face and neck before starting to clean up the cut. Just as he was putting some antiseptic cream onto it, Draco started stirring and groaned softly. He looked briefly at Harry before his body was wracked with heaving coughs.

Harry waited for Draco's coughs to subside before he continued dressing the cut. He was aware that Draco was staring intently at him, but Harry kept his eyes firmly on his job at hand. He would fall to pieces if he looked into those grey eyes.

"You fainted and hit your head on my floor," Harry explained, though his voice remained neutral. "I don't do magic at home, so I have to take care of it the muggle way. I expect you must have a hell of a headache, so I will get you some painkillers in a moment."

"Thank you," Draco rasped, his throat obviously bothering him immensely.

"Would you like some lemon tea? It will soothe your throat," Harry asked but still avoided Draco's gaze.

"Thanks, but no. I'm feeling a little sick in the stomach," Draco swallowed heavily. "I should go..." Harry's eyes flicked to him briefly.

"It's probably best that you stay here for a little while and rest before you leave. If you're ill enough to pass out, you really shouldn't be out and about." Harry stood up to leave the room but Draco grabbed his hand.

"I had to see you, Harry," Draco croaked. Harry looked torn and a mix of emotions flashed across his face. But he tore his hand away and opened his mouth to say something when Draco groaned softly and started to get up.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked, suspicious that Draco was going to disappear on him again.

"Where's your toilet? I feel like I'm going to be sick." Harry pointed to the door off his bedroom and Draco quickly disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door.

Harry felt like crying. He was so confused. He was torn between wanting to take care of Draco and comfort him, and telling him to bugger off, although Harry would never have the heart for the latter with Draco being so ill and he mentally slapped himself for being such a sucker.

Harry stepped over to the bathroom and placed his hand on the door and rested his forehead on the door jam. He could hear Draco retching on the other side and Harry bit his lip. If he and Draco had still been together, Harry would never have hesitated in going in and rubbing Draco's back for him.

That tiny little piece of Harry that desperately wanted Draco back was surging up inside him and winning Harry's internal struggle. With barely a thought of what Lucas would think, Harry pushed the bathroom door open and was met with the sight of Draco hunched over the toilet gripping the sides of the bowl while he vomited miserably.

Harry's warring emotions got the better of him and he stepped over to Draco. He crouched beside Draco and pulled his hair out of his sweaty face and held it back away from his mouth.

Harry felt Draco stiffen slightly at Harry's unexpected presence, but he relaxed a little when Harry placed a tentative hand on Draco's back and started rubbing gently.

Draco's retching subsided and he breathed deeply into the bowl, waiting to see if his stomach had finished emptying. He soon grabbed some toilet paper and wiped his mouth before flushing the toilet. He sat back on his haunches and bowed his head. "I'm sorry. I should never have come to see you when I was sick. I didn't mean to guilt you into forgetting your anger. This isn't fair, I'll go," Draco sighed.

"Don't be stupid, Draco. You're far too ill at the moment to be running around the streets of London," Harry said firmly, he helped Draco up off the floor and held him steady as Draco swayed woozily. Once Draco got his grounding, Harry kept a steadying hand on Draco's arm while he rinsed his mouth out then led him back to the bed. "You can stay here until your fever has subsided a bit, at least... Where are you living, anyway?"

"The Hilton Hotel," Draco said with hollow laugh.

"You mean, you haven't come back to England to stay?" Harry asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you! I should've known."

"That's not what I meant, Harry. I have come back permanently, I just haven't found anywhere to live yet," Draco said softly, he could feel himself losing his voice. Harry frowned and dragged himself back into a mode of indifference.

"Whatever. Do you want to try some tea now?" Harry asked again and Draco nodded this time. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Harry's offer of tea was to simply give him some time to collect his thoughts. He returned to the bedroom a few minutes later with a steaming mug of tea with honey and lemon in it and also a glass of water in case Draco became thirsty. Draco was leaning back against the pillows and watching Harry approach. Harry handed him the mug and a couple of painkillers to Draco and pulled a thermometer out of his pocket. "Do you mind if I take your temperature?"

"No," Draco replied and watched Harry intently. Harry so wanted to put the thermometer under Draco's tongue himself; anything to get near that gorgeous, familiar mouth, with the full red lips and-- Stop it! Harry scolded himself. He thrust the thermometer hastily into Draco's hand instead, who placed it under his tongue.

They sat in silence for the next few minutes, waiting for the thermometer to beep. Draco warmed his hands around the mug and Harry continued to avoid Draco's eyes. When the thermometer beeped, Harry pulled it quickly from Draco's mouth and Draco took a long sip of his tea and closed his eyes as it ran down his sore throat.

"It's quite high, 39.7," Harry said as he placed the thermometer on the bedside table. "Are you staying with someone who can take care of you?" Harry's mind travelled back to the restaurant the previous night and he remembered the handsome brunette Draco was sitting with and had to purse his lips to keep from growling in jealousy.

"No, I'm staying alone," Draco answered and knew what was coming next. Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Who --?"

"He was my agent, Harry," Draco said gently and watched as Harry frowned in confusion. "In... the other country I've been living in, I've been modelling. He's my agent over there and has come here to try and convince me to return to... that country. My agent who happens to be a straight as an arrow complete with a wife, two kids, a dog and a white picket fence."

"Modelling?" Harry mused curiously.

"Yes, for fashion magazines," Draco confirmed. He sniffled and reached for a tissue from the bedside table to wipe his nose.

"How long have you been back?" Harry asked, picking at some imaginary lint on his tracksuit pants.

"About three weeks now." Draco took another sip of his tea and felt that it was also calming his stomach. "All of which I've spent looking for you." Harry turned sharply and looked at Draco.

"Where were you? What country was it?" Harry demanded. Draco set his half-drunken tea on the bedside table and cursed inwardly for the direction the conversation was about to take and Harry's inevitable reaction.

"Australia. I've been living in Sydney for the last five years," Draco said with a sigh. Harry's thoughts were immediately drawn back to Lucas and he visibly flinched further away from Draco.

"I... oh, that's where Lucas is from," Harry said stupidly, once again feeling torn and confused. Draco shook his head.

"Harry, I should go. This is causing you so much grief. I should never have come back for you. I had hoped we might be able to have another chance, but you are happy now and I respect that. So, I'll go and we can just forget this ever happened." Draco tried to pull himself up off the bed but Harry pushed him back down gently.

"No, you're staying. You need to be taken care of until you are feeling better," Harry insisted, and I'm not going to lose you again, he finished silently. They fell into silence again for a few moments, until Harry turned back and pinned Draco with an intense green gaze. "You came back for me?"

"Yes, I did and I should never have left in the first place," Draco murmured and looked away. He couldn't handle being stared at so intently by Harry; those green eyes got him every time and it was tearing his heart in two. Harry opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by someone knocking on his apartment door.

"Fuck!" Harry cursed and got up. "I have to get that. Will you try and rest a bit? We'll talk, ok? I'll give you that much." Draco nodded reluctantly and settled back into the pillows as Harry left the bedroom and closed the door behind him.