-1Harry's hands hanged limply over his knee's as he sat on the kerb-stone of the grubby sidewalk.
"Happy birthday to me… happy birthday to me… happy birtday dear me… happy birthday to me," he said in a voice not much above a whisper. Harry sounded like he was about to cry, though if you could see his face, you'd know he already was. He raised the sleeve of his sweater to his eyes and rubbed furiously. "16 today," he said to himself. "16 and no one to celebrate with," his eyes flashed some unrecognisable emotion before he stood, and it was gone.
He was walking along the small streets of Little Whinging with gentle footing, the amber of the streetlights highlighting his lithe figure as his pace picked up. His head was down and his hands were thrust deeply into his pockets as he heard the footsteps approach behind him. He wouldn't have thought anything of it, were it not for the slight fact of the time. It was the early hours of the morning, 3am, Harry guessed.
He decided it best to distract the person, though a voice somewhere in his head told him he was being paranoid, another said different. He crossed the street and the footsteps followed.
He turned up Prescot Drive, the footsteps followed.
Down Abyssi Gardens -- the footsteps followed.
Through the park and across Shandwick Grove -- the footsteps followed.
Down Newington Street - the footsteps followed.
He slipped into an alleyway on Harvord Street - the footsteps still followed.
He decided now that he wasn't paranoid, he was being followed. His hand coiled tightly around his wand and he decided to turn, he'd face his attacker 'Die an honourable death?' a voiced asked in his head, he chose to ignore it and push it from his mind.
"Do you really think that wise?" a familiar voice asked behind him. The voice was familiar, the tone was not. The voice was devoid of its usual sneer, if Harry did not know the owner, he would have almost considered the voice soft, welcoming.
"What are you doing here, Mr. Malfoy," he asked as politely as he could.
"Mr Malfoy?" the voice asked lightly. "Please, call me Draco," he said in a voice not much above a whisper.
"I asked what you're doing here," Harry repeated, his eyes narrowing to slits.
"I'm doing nothing, I simply am," Draco said simply.
Harry laughed. "You simply are?" he asked.
Draco nodded, "I simply am,"
"Then leave," Harry demanded, his tongue flickering over his front teeth - he knew it wouldn't work but it was probably worth a try.
"No," Draco said simply, sliding a hand into his pocket.
Harry spun on his feet and pushed the blonde wizard hard against the ally wall. "What do you think you're doing here!" he demanded, his fingers lacing themselves around Draco's throat.
Draco said nothing, his eyes were blank though their contact with Harry's didn't flicker, not for a moment.
Harry had drawn his wand and was pushing it hard against Draco's neck, leaving his hand free to wrap around Draco's black jacket. "What are you doing here?" Harry asked quietly, calmly.
Draco's hand made for his pocket again but Harry knee'd it away. Draco's eyes were still emotionless as he shook his head, "You then," he nodded towards his trousers and sighed.
Harry looked at him suspiciously but slid his hand in Draco's pocket, ignoring the small moan escaping Draco's lips and rummaging until he found a small leather pouch and a black, velvet-covered box.
"What's this?" Harry asked, eyeing both draco and the items suspiciously.
Draco sighed and shook his head. Harry's eyes were still locked with his. "It's for you. You ignorant… bastard," Draco pushed hard against the other side of the ally-way and walked briskly from the opening.
Harry swallowed hard and closed his eyes - what, in the name of all things Draco- eh, God, was going on?
He walked, he broke into a run, he could see the blonde and grasped his arm but… pop!
They had landed somewhere by a river, and Harry had been thrown to the ground, he stared up at Draco, still clutching the black box and the leather pouch. He blinked, trying to get his bearings as Draco's eyes burned with agression.
"Why did you follow me?" Draco asked, his expression not at all matching his voice. His voice was still calm, slow, and deliberate.
"Why did you give me these? Why did you come to my town? Why?" Harry asked.
Draco closed his eyes in a poor attempt at calmling himself a little. "I seen you… you cried… you were alone…" he said simply.
"What!" Harry asked, his own eyes narrowing to slits. "You were watching me?" he spluttered.
"And I brought you gifts, unlike anyone else," Draco nodded towards the parcels Harry held in his hands.
Harry suddenly found the ground very interesting - no one had sent him presents, Ron and Hermione probably hated him… so the weasley's wouldn't send him gifts, and, after all… they were the only people who did give him gifts. He closed his eyes as he remembered his outburst…
"All you ever do is be with each other!" Harry seethed. "I'm sick of it - I'm sick of you and I'm sick of your lovey-fucking-dovey and I'm sick of everything!" he screamed before running from the room, through the portrait hole and toward the room of requirement…
Harry opened his tear-filled eyes and looked up at Draco. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Draco," he added.
Draco fell to his knee's and shuffled toward Harry, "Don't be," he whispered.
"How can you… how can you be two people? So different, fire and ice?" Harry asked, the tears still welling in his eyes.
"What?" Draco asked, dumbfounded and incredulous.
"You hate me, why would you care how I feel… bring me gifts," Harry laughed to himself.
"Yes, yes, I think my dear, dear, violent-bastard of a father would love me for that, don't you, Harry?" Draco rolled his eyes. "Draconis Lucius Malfoy - the poof of slytherin and the slut of Hogwarts that gives Harry-the-boy-who-fucking-lived-Potter longing stares over dinner," he spat, rocking back onto his ankles and gripping the bridge of his nose.
Harry blinked, "You're gay?" he asked, immediately wishing he hadn't.
"Yes," Draco replied with a concrete stare.
"Good." Harry nodded, leaning forward as he kissed Draco softly for a few moments before separating their lips.
"You're?" Draco asked, his eyes still closed.
"Yours," Harry smiled.
