A/N: Hello lovelies! This is the sequel to 'Sparkle and Magnificence'! I hope you actually care… Anyways, so I started writing this chapter and then realized how ridiculously odd it was, and that it did not match its predecessor, and it was so…well, ridiculous. But I had to include it, so consider this a sort of prologue or something.
Disclaimer: All of these characters were formed all up by another, a Ms. Rowling. Please do not credit me with them, even though I would quite like to be able to accept that credit.
One
The phone was ringing. Harry wildly zipped up his fly and dashed out of the bathroom, taken over by that crazed phone-answering rush.
"Hello?"
"Hello love, hope I'm not interrupting anything," said the voice of Draco Malfoy.
"Actually, I was taking a pi--"
"No, I was lying. I really don't care."
"You are so rude to me. I wish you weren't so pretty."
"That wish will never be granted, Harry. I called to ask you—"
"Hang on, I've got call waiting."
"Call waiting! Are you gay?"
"Just a minute, love."
Harry switched lines.
"Hello?"
"Hi Harry!" It was Hermione. "I've only just heard, after all this time! You've got a new boyfriend?"
"What? How do you know?"
"Oh, Seamus, of course. Tell me all about him, Harry!"
"Well, actually, he's still on the other line. Wait a minute, okay?"
"Ooh! Okay."
He pressed the button.
"Draco, dear, what is it?"
"Come over tonight. I'm going to make you dinner."
"You can't cook."
"Then I'll buy dinner and set it out on the table for you."
"That would be lovely! Hang on."
He switched over again, to Hermione.
"Sweetheart, he is so cute! He's going to fake dinner for me. I've really hit it this time, just wait, I'm going to tell you all about him. Oh, and between us, he's amazing in bed."
There was a pause, and then to Harry's horror, the sultry, very male laughter of Draco filled the silence.
Harry quickly pressed the button again.
"Hermione?"
"Yeah?"
"I've got to go."
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"No, this is really odd!"
"But Harry, this idea is so much more fun!"
"How is it fun to dress up like some pouffe and sit outside eating insect-ed sandwiches?"
Draco gave Harry a look.
"Harry, we are having a picnic, and we are going to look nice, and I am very excited that I had such an idea, and you are doing it, because you think I am amazing in bed!"
Harry glared, but of course as soon as Draco had suggested it, he'd known he was resigned to this. Especially when those silver eyes had sparkled with anticipation, and had pointed right to him.
In the end, the young couple had ended up dressed like proper gentlemen. Or proper gentlemen from decades ago. Cravats and tailed suit jackets and well-fitting trousers and all. Needless to say Harry felt quite silly, but Draco was so very cheerful. The blonde simply did not care that people in the park would certainly stare, and would laugh, and whisper, and even maybe shout. He only cared about having fun, with Harry.
So they walked the few blocks to the park, arm in arm, with Harry carrying their picnic basket. Yes, it looked off. Especially during that walk, as they wandered over concrete and cars drove past. But Draco's mood was rapidly affecting Harry's, and soon they were practically skipping onto that perfect grassy spot in the middle of the park.
The sun was shining brilliantly, and the grass was nearly as green as Harry's eyes. They spread out their blanket and sat, stretching their legs out straight. Their laughter rang through the swaying trees, as the beautiful pair fed each other fruit and teased each other fondly. The park had a huge plastic jungle-gym, and littered tennis courts, and broken swings, and trashed cement benches, but Harry and Draco seemed to be in some bubble of their own. They were the centre of a huge circle of a life back in time. The air around them seemed fresher, seemed cleaner. The two of them ate and giggled, and Draco ruffled Harry's already-messy hair. Then Harry stood up, and offered his hand to Draco. The boy took it and stood. Any bystander would have been held captive by this sight. It was whimsy and imagination, made real. Because the two of them, in their old-fashioned clothes and light-hearted moods, the two of them met and made something beautiful. It was magic and sophistication. The two of them danced, in their bubble. They were very close, and they were very imaginary, and very real.
They might have had an audience, but who would know? The boys didn't notice, and if there was anyone watching, they certainly didn't notice anyone else but the two figures in the sunlight.