Author's Note 03-06-15: I wrote this for my darling Lottie (elsa-the-snowbitch) over on Tumblr, as it is her birthday today! I found a captivating picture of Jeppe Hansen, who is one of my favourite DIY Dracos, and felt there was a story hiding behind his eyes. This is the result of those musings :-)

You can see this photo as part of the pic-set that makes up the front cover xJx

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Swimming In The Rain

The party was too loud, and no one seemed to notice when Harry slipped out between the French doors into the night. His head was ringing and he was sick of the champagne he'd been forced yet again into drinking. He pulled out his wand and transfigured it into water, taking a long gulp before melting into the shadows, letting the din of the crowd drift away behind him. Now he was out in the cool air with a bit of peace and quiet, his pounding headache was already subsiding and he took a long, deep breath to calm himself as he wandered between the topiary.

Harry hated these gatherings. All he'd wanted after Voldemort's demise was to try and reclaim some sort of a normal life, focus on his Auror training, attempt to rekindle his relationship with Ginny. But his career had been put on hold and his love life had fizzled out, leaving only this insufferable string of PR events that seemed unending both in their frequency but also in their monotonous repetitive nature.

He'd lost track of whatever mansion he was at now, or even who was hosting this charity gala in honour of 'The Boy Who Lived'. Wherever he went now, every week or two, he was expected to give the same old speech, drink with the same old people, smile until his face ached and pretend like everything was fine.

Hermione and Ron felt the same he knew, but they had each other now, and Harry had to respect their blossoming courtship because he loved them. Even when they made gooey eyes across the table and he felt like jamming spoons into his eyes.

He sighed and drained the last of his water from the champagne flute. He wished he had more, but a light drizzle was starting to fall giving the air a moist taste that managed to wet his tongue a little. He didn't know where he was going, but he was happy to be away from the throng at least, alone with his own thoughts.

That was, until he turned a corner and came across a most bizarre sight.

It seemed he wasn't the only one who had decided to ditch the party and wander the grounds. A figure he recognised almost immediately as Draco Malfoy was stood by the edge of a large kidney shaped swimming pool, trailing a bare foot through the rain-spotted waters. His other foot was shoeless too, as was his chest under his unbuttoned black shirt. In one hand he held a champagne glass just like Harry's, although his still had alcohol in it, and in the other he shielded himself against the drizzle with a large black umbrella.

Harry wasn't sure why he was so put out by seeing his former school nemesis; he was trundled out to all these events as well after all. But normally there was a crowd between them, loud music, dinner tables.

More clothes.

As if hearing his thoughts, Draco looked up and grinned, sloshing his toes through the waters again. "Hello Harry," he said with a grin and took another swig of bubbles. He obviously wasn't as sick of it as Harry was. Judging from the warm pink flush on his cheeks, he'd probably had several glasses already. "Come to escape as well?"

Harry blinked, little rain droplets clinging to his eyelashes. Despite seeing him all the time, Harry wasn't sure he and Draco had spoken since he and his mother had thanked him after speaking at their trails. "You don't want to be alone?" he said, coming a little closer.

"Pshh!" responded Draco, swinging his umbrella in an arch, resulting in an arch of rain splattering across the patio. Draco was obviously not all that concerned about keeping dry, and his white blond hair glittered in the lamp light from the fine layer of rain it had built up. "I'm always alone. You're possibly the only one who hates this nonsense as much as me, so let's be bored together."

He winked at Harry and dragged his foot along the surface of the pool again.

"You noticed that, huh?" he said, coming closer again. There was only a few feet of space between them now, filled with silently drifting rain.

Draco licked his lower lip and considered Harry properly. "Yeah," he said, pondering. "But you know, you probably could skive off and no one would mind. You're The Chosen One after all." He said Harry's new title with such a loftiness that Harry couldn't help but grin.

"You don't seem as impressed at me as everyone else," he teased, but Draco's grey eyes stilled on him.

"Quite the contrary," he said softly, splashing his foot through the waters again. He gave a little wobble and Harry started forward on instinct, but Draco righted himself quick enough and laughed. "Were you about to rescue me?" he asked with a devilish flick of the eyebrows.

Harry cleared his throat. "I'm sure you can handle yourself," he said evenly. "Though I'd rather not have to try and explain to your father how you drowned in an international Quidditch star's pool."

"Ah," said Draco. "Daddy dearest wouldn't like that. Not after all the hard work he's put into making me the poster child for the Malfoys' redemption." He grimaced and dipped the other toes in. "Who else would he drag to these infuriatingly sham-ridden galas? Mother won't have any of it, she's got enough sense to show contrition and have some respect."

"You don't think you've redeemed yourself?" Harry asked, curious. Just because he'd never spoken to Draco over these past several months, didn't mean he hadn't seen him. His face had been guarded and hard to read at the beginning, when the Ministry had initially come up with the genius thought that by touring the country and celebrating the return to normalcy, spirits would be bolstered and old grievances gradually put aside. But as they happened more and more, that old familiar Malfoy steel had come back to Draco's gaze. This time though, unlike their first few years of school, it wasn't arrogance keeping that metal in his composure, but more the determination of a survivor. Harry was witness as Draco had taken those terrible years of his service to Lord Voldemort, tuck it in a pocket, and finally hold his head up high to make something more of his new life.

It suddenly struck Harry, stood by that pool, he really hadbeen paying an awful lot of attention to Draco Malfoy. And at some point he'd simply become Draco.

He wasn't sure he wanted to analyse too closely what that was about.

Draco sighed. "I don't know if I can ever come back from what I did," he said, the humour gone from his voice. He took another gulp of champagne, almost draining the glass, his toes still curled around the lip of the swimming pool. "But I'm not going to let it ruin the rest of my life." He shook his head and jutted his chin towards the manor house they had come from. "That is, once they stop making me go to these things ever other day and I can actually start having a life."

Harry chuckled. "Tell me about it," he agreed. "It's just to make themselves all feel better, like it never happened. I'd rather face up to the terrible truth and focus on building a new and better world."

"You should put that in your next speech," Draco encouraged, with a little smirk. "They might actually listen if it came from you."

He knocked his head back and swallowed the last of his drink. Unfortunately though, with his foot back in the pool, and the alcohol undoubtedly affecting his coordination, he suddenly over-balanced himself and went crashing into the water, the umbrella sprawling after him.

Harry didn't think, other than perhaps to remember his earlier comment about not wanting to explain to Lucius Malfoy why his only heir had met his demise in a moon-lit swimming pool. His robes and shoes were off before he could even process what he was doing, and he jumped into the pool after Draco, seizing his shirt and dragging him spluttering back into the night air.

He coughed and flailed his arms, eventually treading water and shaking his hair from his eyes. "Blimey Harry," he said as the umbrella drifted open and upside-down beside them. "You've really got a thing for saving me, having you?" It could have been a tease, but there was something smouldering behind his eyes that made Harry's stomach flip a little.

"Well," said Harry, glad his glasses were water repellent and that he could still see. "I didn't fancy facing all these sycophants by myself. I think I can always rely on you for an honest opinion."

"You want my honest opinion?" Draco asked. They could easily have moved to the shallow end, or gotten out of the water all together, but for some reason Harry felt rooted, bobbing in the water that extended just below his feet.

He gulped. Did he want the honest opinion of Draco Malfoy? "Sure," he said, feeling brave. He was a Gryffindor after all.

Draco was serious again. "You're too good for them, for this. You shouldn't let them boss you around or work you like a puppet. They weren't around when you were fighting You-Know-Who, but the way they act," he snarled in disgust. "It's like it was their plan all along. You should tell them to shove their stupid speeches and start getting on with your own life for the first time."

Harry was a little dumb-struck. It seemed Draco had been thinking about him just as much as he'd been thinking about Draco. "You think they'd let me?" he asked honestly.

Draco swam a little closer. "You're Harry Potter. No one has to let you do anything."

Harry's skin was tingling, and it wasn't just due to the chilly water. "You're opinion of me's certainly changed," he said, hoping he wasn't going to shatter the moment by bringing up the past.

But Draco shrugged and smiled. He was right in front of Harry now, as close as they could be without their paddling limbs touching. "Saving a guy's life will do that. It might make him realise how much of an idiot he's been, or maybe what's been right in front of him this entire time."

"And what's that?" Harry asked, his heart thumping.

"You," replied Draco without hesitation. "Just you Harry, it's always been you."

Harry wasn't sure what to think, but his eyes were wide and a shiver ran down his spine. "I guess," he said, his brain catching up with his body. "It's always been you too." He tentatively wrapped his fingers around the shirt material billowing in the water around Draco's body and pulled him a little closer. What was he doing! his brain screamed at him.

What he should have done a long time ago, he finally realised.

He leaned in, touching his lips to Draco's slowly, giving him the chance to pull away if he'd misread the signs and this wasn't really what he wanted. But he was rewarded with a sweet kiss back, with hands in sopping wet hair and bodies pulled together against Harry's thin shirt. Draco was warm and solid and just so right, and as they pulled apart, panting slightly, Harry couldn't help but smile as the joy he was feeling coursed through his blood. "It's always been you," he told him again.

"Just you Harry," Draco agreed.

End