Title: Someday

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling and various publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Rating: R

Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Harry/Ginny

Warnings: angst, AU, EWE

Summary: Draco mused about the meaning of someday

Author's Notes: This fic is unbeta-ed. All mistakes are mine, and I apologize in advance for them.

Someday was a word of promise, spoken in the stolen times on Harry's cramped, dimly-lit bedroom at Grimmauld, with Harry's arms around Draco's torso while Draco was trying in vain to bury his back deeper into Harry's chest.

"What do you want to do after the war?" Harry whispered on his ear.

"Hm, we can live together," Draco answered, paying more attention to Harry's fingers, which he was playing with, than to Harry's question. Harry had shorter, stronger looking fingers - unlike his longer, graceful ones. There was something about seeing his and Harry's fingers interlaced that fascinated Draco - maybe it was the way their skins look together, dark and light.

"We're already living together," Harry pointed out. A totally dumb response, in Draco's not-humble-at-all opinion, but he did not want to break the mood by hitting Harry's stomach with his elbow.

"Not with thousands of Weasleys and a bunch of Gryffindors also living under the same roof," he said instead. Honestly, rather than living together, their current arrangement was more like living in the dorm.

"Not in your manor," Harry countered.

"Not in the manor," Draco agreed. "We will hunt a house together. Ours," he added. Something that was untainted with their history and with the invisible, but hard to erase line that dividing dark and light sides - something that would be a new start for them.

Harry tightened his hold. "Someday."

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Someday was a word of threat, shouted in anger and hatred, a promise of retribution to come.

"I'll make you regret it someday, Malfoy! I'll kill you myself!" the words Harry shouted out was piercing his heart, but Draco took extra care so he would not look back and his steps would not falter either.

He could not make Harry understand. For Harry, Draco's parents were evil, a paragon of Death Eater. Yet, they were his parents nonetheless. The hands that Harry had seen killing people were the same hands that had hugged and protected Draco from his nightmares and had hold him when he got cold. The mouths that Harry had heard sprouting curses and hexes were the same mouths that told little Draco his bedtime's stories.

Not that Draco thought he did not deserve Harry's anger. He had, after all, told the Death Eaters about the Order's plan for rescuing the Muggleborns wizard and witches that had been captured. The order had taken him in and given him refuge and he had betrayed their trust. Worse, he had betrayed Harry's trust.

Yet, they were holding his parents' lives as hostages. It was becoming a traitor or an orphan and there really was not a choice as far as Draco concerned.

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Someday was a word of bitter regret and self-delusion, spoken to create an illusion about a tomorrow that would never come.

Draco was just coming out of the apothecary, levitating bunches and bunches of potion's ingredients, when his eyes caught a Harry-shaped person moving from the corner. Harry had not changed. He was speaking and laughing and moving his hands everywhere to emphasis his points at the same time. Then he saw the person standing beside Harry, the recipient of his smiles, and suddenly he could not breathe.

Ginny Weasley was looking up to Potter with adoration, clearly eating up every word coming out of Potter's mouth. She laughed and held Potter's hand and Draco never hated her more because it should be him there with Potter.

The old pain was back with full force on his chest. Or perhaps it was never left, merely lying dormant. It was regret and guilt and jealousy and broken dreams fused together and if he had to choose again he knew he would still choose the same path.

Maybe someday, someday the pain would lessen. Someday he would be able to look back at this and thought of it as nothing more but distant memories.

Maybe someday he would stop to kid himself.

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Someday was a word of hope, whispered by familiar voice, filled with unsaid promise of better time to come soon.

They had met accidentally in Gringotts. Draco was being torn between ignoring Harry and acknowledging that he had seen the other man when they collapsed into one another. Somehow, they ended up drinking together at the Leaky.

He had read from the Prophet a few days ago that Harry had finalized his divorce with the Weaslette. He was dying to ask - either for confirmation, a second chance, or both, he did not know. He swallowed back all those questions.

They talked about the mundane things instead: the Canon's prospect, Harry's job as an Auror, Draco's apothecary, the new café where Fortescue's ice cream parlor used to be. They laughed and talked and Draco knew that they both was pretending that there was nothing else to be said – no accusation, blame, or explanation, threading carefully on a thin ice. Still, when the bill came, he felt like it was far too fast, too soon. He did not want to let Harry go just yet, which was totally stupid since Harry was not his at the first place.

"Can we meet again? For a drink?" He asked, hesitantly. He knew, oh he knew Harry would say no but he could not prevent himself to ask for all the gold in Gringotts.

"Maybe someday," Harry said, smiled and turned around. Draco felt the familiar pain throbbed again. It was stupid, stupid to hope.

But a few steps later Harry stopped and looked back at him.

"I'll owl you."

And suddenly, someday seemed like the sweetest word Draco had ever heard, since it brought with it a hope for a second chance.

Fin