Bel A/N: Thank you, my darlings, for reviewing, you have made two sad people very happy!
Wyv A/N: Here is the honours list: Prongs: Aww! Another one adding us to their favourites! That made my day! CrystalStarGuardian: Eeeek! Filch! ::hides:: . Just Silver: Don't worry about not making sense, I'm sure we never do :) *hug back*. weezl pete: Yep, we had to include Fred and George somehow, didn't we, they're too amazing to be left out! and Jayna: Yeah, Harry may be a bit OOC, but this is seven years in the future and he has just been through a nasty break-up. Bound to make anyone change!
Bel: This sequel also features a nice little treat for all you Draco lovers! Enjoy! :)
Down Brighton Way, sequel to The Aftermath!
Draco surveyed himself in the mirror while an extremely harassed-looking sales assistant looked on. Not bad, he thought, but could be better...
"I would still really prefer the pink," he said. "Are you sure there's none left?"
"We've been through this before, sir," groaned the assistant, "we've sold out of the pink and we don't have another delivery until next Thursday."
"Oh, but don't you have any out the back? Any that might be lurking, unnoticed and forgotten? I'm sure you do, could you have a look for me?" The sales assistant growled and flounced off out into the warehouse, her head filled with pleasant images of 'introducing' Draco to the cardboard-crusher. Draco smiled as he watched her leave. If he had a talent, it was for really annoying and patronising annoying, patronising, stuck-up sales assistants. That was the fourth one this hour. A good morning!
An hour later, Draco was sat on the beach watching the world (and a number of sexy men in skimpy bathing shorts) go by. He was feeling a lot happier now. He may not have Harry any more, but at least he had pink leather trousers!
He wondered briefly where Fred and George had got to. They had left him early on, saying that they "needed to go and sort out some business." Draco decided that, on reflection, he didn't really want to know what sort of business that was, and went to buy himself an ice-cream.
*
Fred and George were actually sat on Harry's lounge floor with Lorren, making more mess with the plasticine in five minutes than Lorren had managed in an hour. Harry and Ron were laughing at them, and discussing their last Quidditch match.
"Hey, Harry," George said suddenly, while pulling lumps of plasticine out of his hair, "you haven't got any Quidditch for a while, have you?"
"No, not for a couple of weeks, the international games are on," Harry replied. "Why?"
"Well, you know you said you wanted to see our Brighton store?"
"You could come back with us this afternoon and take a look around, then come clubbing with us in the evening."
"I don't know...what are you planning?" Harry demanded.
"Us?" Fred and George tried, and failed, to look innocent. "We're not planning anything, just thought you could do with a bit of a break."
"Hmm," said Harry thoughtfully. "You forget I know you too well. You probably want to lure me down there so you can test out some strange new trick on me." Harry grinned. "Yeah, I'll come anyway, I could do with a laugh!"
"Eeeexcellent!" Fred and George grinned back. "Well, go and get your stuff and we'll meet you in half an hour at Ron's." They got up and left.
"They're planning something," Harry remarked, staring after them thoughtfully.
"Who says they're planning anything?" replied Ron, tidying away the remains of the plasticine.
"Ron, it's your brothers, the ones who own a joke shop, the ones who are always getting into trouble. They're always planning something. You can tell by that seemingly innocent grin."
"You should have been a detective, mate," Ron laughed. "Nah, just go along with it, it can't be that bad. Anyway, you haven't smiled enough lately. The break will do you good."
"Yeah," murmured Harry, still gazing at the door.
*
Later that evening, in his hotel room, Draco stood posing in front of the mirror in his new pink leather trousers and the black studded PVC top he'd bought to go with them.
"How should I have my hair?" he asked Fred, who was leaning against the door, waiting for George.
"Spiked, I reckon. Are you gonna wear any makeup?"
"Of course."
"Only, not too much eyeliner this time. You scared me last time I met you in a club, I thought you were Marilyn Manson or something!"
"Nah, Marilyn Manson's not blond," replied Draco, grinning, brushing on some mascara, then picking out a nail varnish. "Black or pink?" he asked, showing George, who had just walked in, the two bottles.
"That nice baby pink. Honestly, Draco, you're more trouble than my last girlfriend!" Draco gave him a cheeky grin, and set about applying the nail varnish.
"Dra, mind if we meet you there? Only, we're ready to go now, have been for the last twenty minutes."
"OK, sure, the Birdcage, isn't it?" replied Draco. Fred nodded.
"We'll meet you at the bar at ten. See you there!"
*
Harry was tapping his feet impatiently when Fred and George Apparated back at their house. He was looking drop-dead gorgeous in tight black jeans and a tight-fitting green top which had been slashed at the sides. Fred whistled when he saw him.
"So, definitely not on the pull tonight then?"
"No, definitely not," replied Harry sarcastically, smiling. "Where have you been anyway? I've been ready for ten minutes."
"Had some last minute business to sort out, then Fred had to go and get his hair gel back from a mate." Harry nodded, not believing them.
"Shall we go then?" George nodded, and led the way out into the street.
"What's this place like then?" Harry asked as they walked along the street.
"The Birdcage? It's very nice. Opened a couple of months ago by a couple of very nice young ladies. Caters for everyone. Has dance nights, garage nights, pop nights, gay nights, punk nights, everything. Nice decor." replied Fred.
"Nice barmaids," grinned George. "And barmen. There's this one there, got long hair, very nice."
"Nice bum! You'd like him, Harry," said Fred, nudging him as they walked on, laughing.
*
Draco found the Birdcage easily, but finding Fred and George was another matter. Evidently, it was very popular on Friday nights among the gay community. Draco ordered a drink and looked at his watch. Ten past ten. Well, maybe they were still in the queue. Draco sipped his drink and gazed around, checking out the action. A nice looking lad with broad shoulders and blue hair caught his eye and winked. Draco smiled. He may as well start to enjoy himself. He walked over to the guy with the blue hair and introduced himself.
Meanwhile, Fred, George and Harry had firmly established themselves on the dancefloor. They were prancing about and making complete prats of themselves, but they didn't care.
"Care for a drink?" George yelled in Harry's ear.
"Yeah, ok," Harry yelled back. They fought their way over to the front of the bar and ordered their drinks.
"We're gonna have to leave you here for a bit, Harry," Fred yelled. "We need to find someone. Will you be ok here?"
"Yeah," replied Harry, smiling flirtatiously at an attractive bloke in a hat whose arms were covered in tattoos.
"Behave!" called George as the twins moved off, in search of Draco.
Harry tore his gaze away from the tattooed guy and cast his eye around the club. That bloke wasn't his type, that one was too hairy, eurgh, that guy really *shouldn't* have taken his shirt off. Ah, perfect. Harry spotted a redhead in a corner surrounded by his mates. He caught his eye, grinned and made his way over to the corner.
On his way over, he noticed a blond dressed in pink leather chatting up someone with blue hair. Harry did a double take. That looked like Draco. But it couldn't be Draco, Draco wasn't in Brighton...
The blond turned more in Harry's direction. It *was* Draco! Harry stared at him for a couple of minutes, his heart hammering. Draco! Gorgeous Draco! His Draco...he shook himself mentally as he thought those words. No. Not his Draco. Not anymore.
That still didn't stop the surge of anger and jealousy that washed over him as the blue haired guy kissed Draco. Trembling, fists clenched, Harry walked over to them and tapped Draco on the shoulder. Grinning, Draco turned to him.
"Hey, took you long enough...Harry!" he exclaimed, colour draining from his face. "What are you doing here?"
"Never mind me, what are *you* doing here?"
"I'm here with Fred and George, well, supposed to be."
"That's funny, cos I'm here with Fred and George!"
"What? Gods, they're in trouble. Umm, excuse me a minute, Elliott. I need to have a chat with Harry."
"No worries, should I get you another drink?"
"Uh, yeah." Feeling strangely nervous, he led Harry into a quiet corner and sat down.
"So..." he began. Harry was glaring at him. "What? What have I done? I haven't done anything wrong, have I?"
"You were kissing him!" Harry shouted. "Why? Don't you care about me any more?" His reaction was surprising him, he never expected to react like this, to feel like this, and by the look on his face Draco was even more surprised.
"What? Harry, what are you.... we split up!"
"Yeah, well, it didn't take you long to move onto the next bitch, did it!"
"You what? Harry, it's been over two months!"
"Two months is nothing. We were together seven years!"
"Harry, you told me, actually told me, to my face, that you didn't love me any more! What the hell am I supposed to do, Harry?" Harry said nothing, but stared stonily at Draco. "You hurt me really badly, you know that?"
"You hurt me too! At least you could have shown you cared, instead of spending every bloody minute yanging on about your job!"
"Yes, but I didn't mean too! And I certainly would never have said even during that argument that I didn't love you! I can't even say it with certainty now! I mean, what am I supposed to do, Harry? Pine after you all my life?"
"Yeah, well, you could have waited a bit longer," snapped Harry, glaring at a mark on the floor. He knew he was being stubborn and argumentative, but he couldn't help it. The emotions swirling around inside him were too intense and he was scared.
"Oh, and you weren't out on the pull then? Well?"
"Well, I was, but I wasn't actually intending to..."
"Bullshit!" Draco paused there, uncertain of how to go on. A whole range of emotions were rushing through his mind: pain, hurt, confusion, anger...desire. This was why he had wanted to avoid Harry. Harry was feeling much the same way.
"I mean, come on, Harry," whispered Draco. "I had to get back on my feet, try and get my life back on track. That's why I came here tonight, to try and forget about you." Harry turned back to Draco, eyes blazing.
"Oh? So you want to forget about me now, do you?" he demanded.
"No! I mean, yes, but..."
"Thank you very much, Draco Malfoy!" He got up to leave, but Draco grabbed his arm and pulled him back down.
"I mean, Jesus, Harry, look, what I mean is, you hurt me so much, I wanted to try and forget about it. I thought I was over you, I thought you wouldn't have me back! Harry, I thought you hated me!"
"Never," whispered Harry, his eyes locking on to Draco's, noticing the misery in there, noticing the tears that were welling up in those gorgeous stormy eyes. Harry closed his eyes. He wanted Draco more than ever, wanted desperately to put the last three months behind them and act as if they had never happened. Without thinking, Harry leaned forward and kissed Draco.
After a moment or two, Draco broke away and jumped up.
"I can't," he said. "I'm sorry, Harry, I...I just can't!" Draco exclaimed tearfully and turned to leave. Harry jumped up and ran after him.
"Draco, wait!" He caught up with Draco and spun him round. "Where are you going?"
"Harry, leave me be, I...I need to be on my own, Harry, I need to think! I need to sort out my head! This is way too much for me!" Draco wriggled out of Harry's grip, wiped his eyes and ran out of the club. Harry swore and sat down on one of the sofa's, burying his head in his hands. He looked up after a minute to see Fred and George bearing down on him.
"Harry, was that..." Fred began.
"You two are in big trouble!" Harry replied.
to be continued...