Boys of Summer

Chapter 1 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~Draco's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clouds covered the sky over the small town of Marblehead, Ohio on a should-be-sunny day in early August. This didn't phase Draco Malfoy in the slightest, however, as he read his campy paperback smut-novel. He was actually quite pleased with the lack of sunshine. It was still warm, which was good, as he was a freeze-baby, but his delicate skin didn't get burnt, not to mention the fact that due to the overcast sky, there was nobody on the beach. As one of his favourite dance tuned by the Scissor Sisters, (who were actually members of the magical community, contrary to the popular muggle belief that they were simply an eccentric drag band,) began to bump in his ear, Draco adjusted the headset of his muggle satellite radio, (Father would simply die if he knew,) and applied some sun-block, just in case. You never can be too careful, and besides, it smelled of coconuts and rum, quite possibly Draco's two favourite substances. From where he sat, (well, lounged, to be fair,) Draco admired as a lone firm bodied, delightfully tanned wind surfer skim the waves of Lake Erie.

This is such a dull little town, Draco thought disdainfully. Why on earth Father chose to conduct his "business affairs" here was beyond Draco. He supposed it was the low profile atmosphere. There weren't many people on holiday in Marblehead at the moment, which meant no teenaged boys, which was very disappointing for Draco. Empty lake, empty streets, Draco mentally sighed. How much more bored could he get? He noticed, with chagrin, that the sun was coming out, just in time to set. He decided to head back to the hotel. He stood up, brushed a bit of sand off of him, gathered his effects, and began walking back to the road.

Lakeside, the resort community where he was staying, was only a few blocks from the beach, so Draco didn't see the need to take a portkey. He was not of age, and therefore couldn't apparate, but still despised flooing and portkeying everywhere, finding it to be a very messy and uncomfortable business.

Just as he reached the road a red convertible whizzed past him, six inches from clipping him with its side mirror. The driver, a tanned, handsome young man, from what Draco could gather in the short amount of time it took the teen to whoosh by, didn't seem to notice Draco until he'd passed him, effectively scaring him into dropping everything he was carrying. Draco cursed silently and began to bend over to pick up his belongings irritably until he noticed that the car was stopping a few yards down the road, and backing up.

"Lovely," he murmured to himself with a wicked grin on his thin lips. ********************Harry's POV*************

Harry smiled as he turned up the radio in his car, loving the feeling of wind in his hair. He'd just gone seventeen, making him legally an adult in the wizarding community. Therefore, his legal guardians had seen fit to chuck him out of the house. Harry wasn't complaining. He was ready for a long-overdue, much deserved holiday. So, he'd pulled out a map of the United States, closed his eyes, and stuck a thumbtack in it; and this is where he'd landed: this tiny, quaint, middle-of-effing-nowhere town on the edge of a lake in the Midwestern United States. He'd owled Dumbledore, letting him know he was going out of the country, but not divulging his destination. He'd also sent an owl to Fred and George, instructing them to forward a letter containing his whereabouts only if he failed to send his weekly check in owl. This way, if he was kidnapped, Dumbledore would know where to find him.

And so, without any further preparations, Harry had packed up his belongings, gone to Diagon Alley, withdrawn and converted a hefty sum of money from Gringotts, and called a small bed-and-breakfast in Ohio to place a registration. He hadn't wanted to leave any magical traces of where he was going, lest the information fall into the wrong hands. Although he'd defeated Lord Voldemort once and for all during the spring of his 6th year, many death eaters still roamed the planet, looking for ways to boost their own power, and jockeying for position as the next Dark Lord. Harry sighed, trying not to let such heavy thoughts bear on his mind. He was on holiday, and didn't want to dwell on, well, anything. He wanted to forget his past, his legacy, and his responsibilities, at least for the next few weeks.

So, in order to leave the wizarding world behind him, at least until the start of term, and also for his own safety, he'd decided to travel the muggle way. He'd flown out the week after his birthday, rented a car, and hit the road, sparing no expense. He'd lived a penniless existence his whole life and he would be damned if he was going to allow that to continue now that he was of age. Of course, Harry knew he'd have to go back to being responsible once he went back to London, back to Hogwarts, back to the real world; but for now, he was going to be crazy, spontaneous, and wild; simply because he could. This impulsive mood had led him to rent a red convertible for his trip, as well as to make a stop at a muggle shopping mall (his secret addiction was shopping,) on his way from Cleveland, where he'd landed, to his destination. At the mall Harry had spent a good deal of money on a new wardrobe, including jeans that fit snugly, T-shirts that fit even more snugly, and some casual button-ups, which he left mostly unbuttoned, adding to the freeness of his attitude. As an afterthought he bought a pair of stylish muggle sunglasses, figuring he'd need them in the States. He'd got contacts during his week in London following his birthday. He'd taken a week to get his holiday plans sorted, acquire a driver's license, and do all of the other things necessary to be a functioning adult of both the muggle and the wizarding worlds.

Harry was disappointed to find that it was an overcast day in Ohio as he got back on the road, but he put the specs on anyhow. As he neared his bed and breakfast, the sun started to come out, but it was now setting. No matter, he thought to himself. He was going to be spending the rest of the summer holidays here; there was bound to be some sun sometime. He was singing along to a muggle song on the radio, finding it to be enjoyable, if not strange. (Something about getting someone else's mum pissed on cheap champagne?) He was pondering the bizarre lyrics as he drove straight past someone on the side of the road. He looked in the rearview mirror and saw that the person had dropped everything he had been carrying, which appeared to be quite a lot. Harry felt bad about this and pulled over, getting out of his car to go help the young man, and possibly offer him a ride to wherever he was walking, by way of an apology. Upon squinting at the stranger in the distance, and noticing that he was a thin, fair, toned boy of about sixteen or seventeen, clad in only hip-hugging swim shorts, Harry thought, (with a smile,) that he would definitely offer him a ride. ~~~~~~~~~~~~Draco's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the driver of the convertible began walking toward him, Draco bent down to pick up his things, pretending not to notice the approaching boy. Because of this he didn't get a good look at him. *******************Harry's POV****************

As Harry got nearer to the pedestrian, who was currently trying, without much success, to retrieve his belongings, he thought something seemed familiar about the pale complexion, or the golden hair. He'd studied a similar set of features extensively enough to recognise them anywhere. But that was impossible. He was in the States. In a muggle town. What would Malfoy be doing here? With that reassuring thought Harry reached the boy and bean to offer his apologies.

"I'm terribly sorry, I didn't notice you there. I'm such a dolt, I was distracted, and--" Harry's words died in his throat as the other boy stood up and turned to face him, a smile gracing his aristocratic lips. However, this smile disappeared almost immediately.

"Potter?! What the bloody hell are you doing here?!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Draco's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco thought he recognised that voice as he knelt on the road, but shook if off. Inconceivable, he thought. I'm overseas. What the hell would Potter be doing here? But then, what would any self-respecting Englishman be doing in this tourist trap? And Draco definitely recognised the voice to be that of a UK resident. Then he stood, plastered on his most dazzling smile, ready to charm the pants off of the tanned teen in front of him. When he finally got a good look at the stranger, however, his thousand-watt grin dissipated instantaneously.

"Potter?! What the bloody hell are you doing here?!"

Draco couldn't believe his rotten luck. Of all the people to arrive in this tiny dump of a town, it had to be him. It had to be Harry Sodding Potter. Who else would it be? It was then that he realised that Perfect Potter was saying something.

"Well, I was looking forward to a relaxing holiday, thanks for asking." At this point he sighed, and it occurred to Draco how much Potter looked like he did in fact need a vacation. He had circles under his eyes, eyes that appeared haunted by war. Draco knew all too well how the other boy felt. "Look, Malfoy," the Gryffindor continued, "I really am sorry I nearly ran you over. I've been traveling all day, and it's nearly 2am in Britain, and to be honest, I'm dead knackered. Oh for Christ's sake, why am I telling you this? You don't care. Anyway, I just came back here to apologise, and to offer you a ride to wherever you're headed, but now that I know it's you, I doubt you'll take it, so I don't reckon I'll bother asking."

Once Potter had finally finished rambling, Draco took another moment to study his tense visage. His chiseled jaw was clenched and his tanned brow glistened slightly with perspiration. Also, Draco noticed, he appeared incapable of maintaining eye-contact. Draco watched with interest as the sparkling emerald disks darted from the beach to the road, and then finally back to Draco's face. He appeared to be trying to hold Draco's intense gaze, but after a few moments he looked down, and Draco noticed with deepened interest that his ears and cheeks tinged slightly pink. At this point Draco made a spontaneous decision that would alter the course of his life dramatically.
*****************Harry's POV***************

Harry couldn't figure out why he couldn't just stay focused on his Slytherin rival's face. He thought by now, nearly a year after It had begun, he'd have gotten this nervousness under control. He tried desperately to screw up some Gryffindor courage and just look at the boy, but when he did, he was unsettled to find Draco just...staring at him. He stared right back, stubbournly, for a beat, waiting for Malfoy to say...anything, but he didn't. Harry didn't think he could take much more of this stalemate, and then he felt his face begin to heat up, betraying his embarrassment. This, of course, only mortified him even more, and he hunched over, shoving his hands into his pockets and ducking his head to hide his face. He scrambled to pick up Malfoy's things: a towel, a portable radio, and a paperback novel. As he reached for the book, Malfoy hastily snatched it up and then tipped Harry's chin up with his manicured index finger, forcing eye-contact.

"You know, Potter," the blonde said with a teasing smirk, his silver eyes sparkling with mischief, "I think I'll take you up on that almost-offer."