There was something magical about sunsets.

Harry Potter takes a deep shuddering breath, fingers curled around a cigarette ( the only muggle thing he still used ) , watching the late evening sky as the sun dipped lower, painting the sky a deep blood red . He takes another drag of his cigarette , trembling at the sheer want that curls at the pit of his stomach, the smoky fumes sending nonsensical signals to his brain and offering him a numbness that was welcomed, even though it was temporary.

He hasn't smoked in over seven years .

Then again, its been seven years since he appreciated sunsets as well.

And its been seven years since he ran into one, Draco Malfoy.


Harry Potter was twenty six years old and successful. He has a moderately big apartment in one of the richer parts of Britain, a dog who puts up with most of his idiosyncrasies and a well established career as an auror. His best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger are married and live very close by.

He hasn't seen them in three months but thats understandable. They just had their third kid and Ron wasn't exactly renowned for maintaining relationships with people he didn't see every hour of the day. Its not that they're not close anymore. Its just that they're growing up and have other things to attend to. Harry tries to ignore the pangs of jealousy he sometimes feels, watching Ron coo over his wife and kids.

But somedays the redhead is insufferable, his awkward words tripping over each other as he tries to convey too much information in too little time.

Its one such day, a bleak September afternoon , when Harry sits, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to keep up with his gushing best friend . He doesn't glimpse the approaching person until a shadow looms right over his head. He looks up then and his stomach falls to his knees.

"Potter."

Its the same voice, the same tone, the same fucking drawl.

"Malfoy." He returns, surprised that his voice doesn't sound as strangled as he feels. The blonde smirks, lips curling up in amusement as he peers down at him , ice grey eyes unreadable under the fringe of his golden locks.

"Oh, Draco! You're here. Kingsley's room is in the eastern corridor. Third door on the left." Ron says helpfully and Malfoy gives a non committal smile before reaching out and shaking hands with Ron. Harry tries not to stare at the long, slender fingers, pale as moonlight , the nails perfectly manicured.

"I'll see you around, Potter." The voice is back and unlike Harry, Ron doesn't notice the way the tone of his voice dips and curves, husky and low. Harry struggles to keep his composure, tries to ignore the fact that his insides are a few seconds away from self combustion.

"So," he begins casually," whats Malfoy doing here?"

Ron gives him a wide guileless smile.

"He's your new partner."


One of the advantages of defeating the greatest Dark Lord of all time, is you get some clout in making potentially life altering decisions. Which was why, ten minutes after his conversation with Ron, Harry lounges back against the door frame of Kingsley Shaklebolt's door, studiously ignoring the tall blonde sitting in front of the older man.

"I need a word."

He doesn't intend for the words to come out harsh but his tongue runs away with him. Kingsley flashes him a look that says, don't push it, and Harry straightens, not wanting to rile up the department head.

"Could you wait outside for a moment Draco?"

It takes all of Harry's self control not to move away from the door frame and Malfoy takes full advantage of his position, his shoulders and torso brushing Harry deliberately as he moves out.


When Harry finishes the cigarette, he drops it on the floor of the rooftop, his toes instinctively snuffing out the dying embers.

"Can I have one?"

His entire body freezes up. He doesn't turn around. Doesn't move. Doesn't even breathe.

The familiar scent reaches his nose and his nostrils flare, his body eagerly sucking in the scent that his mind tried so hard to forget. He fights the urge to turn tail and run because , fuck he had nothing whatsoever to say to Draco Malfoy.

"So, you asked Shaklebolt to change our partners? It worked. You're with Weasley now."

After another minute's silence he begins to turn around but a hand shoots out, grasping his wrists in a bruising grip and Harry sees red. He whirls around, fists connecting with a painful crunch with the blonde's jaw. Malfoy sinks to his knees, cussing as he tries to stem the trickle of blood flowing down his mouth.

He blinks back tears as he tries to struggle to his feet, fingers searching for something to stem the flow. But Harry doesn't stick around to see if he finds it.


"I broke Malfoy's jaw." Harry says casually as he shares drinks with Blaise Zabini.

Blaise sneers .

"Of all the ways to release sexual tension, Violence is probably the best." He says amiably.

Harry snorts.

Blaise orders a glass of fire-whiskey and the waitress who delivers it gives both of them a flirtatious look and Zabini pats her backside affectionately. Harry stares.

"You do remember you're gay?" He asks peering at the Italian over the rim of his drink. Zabini shrugs.

"Whatever keeps me warm at night." He says with a wolfish grin.

"Why's the guy here anyway?" Harry asks grudgingly wishing his fingers would stop throbbing . He hasn't indulged in violent scuffles in a long time and his bones were taking longer to recover.

"He said he wants to make things right."

Harry doesn't say anything else for the rest of the night.


The next time he runs into Malfoy, the other boy is flipping through one of the case files in the basement. Harry tries his best to ignore the blonde, walking confidently to the third aisle, his fingers reaching for the file he needs. He is almost out of the door when he feels hands on his wrists, both of them, whirling him around till his back crashes against the wall.

Draco is panting, his pupils wide and his mouth open in a snarl.

"Why won't you just fucking listen to me for once?" He snaps, fingers moving from Harry's wrists to his shoulders, holding him back. Harry glares, raising his arms to push the man away but Draco leans against him, their bodies brushing close, every molecule of air knocked out from between them.

Harry feels his breath catch, muscle memory making his arms curve around the blonde's waist as he looks up at him. Draco is warm and hard, smooth yet tough .

Just like old times.

"I hate you." is all he can muster,

Its the truth and Draco nods, understanding.

"I don't blame you Potter. I just need you to hear me out. Ten minutes. You wont regret it. I swear."


Ten minutes turns out to be three hours.

They sit on one of the stone benches in front of the lake, tossing conjured pebbles into the unseen depths. Draco's voice flows like liquid silver, cool and soft. He speaks and speaks and speaks about how he had been scared and how he had needed some time to think and some shit like that but Harry isn't listening.

His eyes are trained on the lake, watching the stones form ripples, the concentric circles moving towards the shore in a gentle soothing pace.

"Harry?"

He looks up then, aware that Draco has finished unloading his heart. He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know if there's anything worth saying. Anything worth sharing.

He stands up then and looks down at Draco. The blonde looks nervous, his pristine white teeth worrying his lush lower lip. Harry feels something crack inside him at the sight. It was tempting, tempting to just throw all the hurt and the grudges away and crush his lips to those pink folds. He could almost taste him , that unique tangy flavor that was Draco Malfoy.

But he doesn't.

Instead he pushes his hands into his pockets.

"Why did you come back Draco?" He says, aware that he hasn't whispered that name in a long time.

Draco doesn't reply . Maybe he knows that the question is rhetorical. Maybe he realizes that its no longer " Why did you leave?" .

Harry casts one last glance at the shimmering lake before moving away.

Draco doesn't stop him.


Harry takes a guy home that night. Its the first time in over nine months and he's rusty to say the least. He kisses like a starved man and ruts against the other guy's thigh, his fingers curling into the muscular shoulders as he gets fucked into the nearest wall. When he comes, its hard and fast and blinding and the last thing he sees before losing consciousness is Malfoy's face.

When he wakes up in the morning his bed mate has already left and he is left with sore muscles and tired out limbs and soiled sheets and he clutches his comforter and sobs.

Sobs for the things that were and things that weren't. For friends who turned into lovers and lovers who turned into strangers.


Harry has had insomnia for the better part of these seven years.

He takes pills and sometimes they knock him out but never for more than four hours. His eyes are perpetually stained with dark circles and people have stopped asking him about it.

In fact he hasn't had it commented upon for a long time.

"You look really tired. Haven't you been sleeping well?" Its Draco.

They're eating lunch in one of the Ministry's small canteens, their plates full . Harry doesn't bother avoiding Draco anymore. The blonde for his part doesn't try to bring up anything from their past. They indulge in a sort of mutual avoidance, pushing stagnant feelings and emotions to the proverbial back burner, a classic case of I wont if you won't.

"I'm fine. " Harry replies, spearing a pea with his fork . He loves baby carrots and he hasn't managed to get any that day. Outside , the rain is pounding the pavements and he holds up his spoon tilting it slightly till Draco is reflected on the shiny concave surface.

Draco doesn't push the subject but he picks up a few baby carrots, dips them in sauce and carefully places them on Harry's plate.


Hermione has put on weight and looks more beautiful than ever.

"Harry!" She launches herself into his arms. Harry returns the warm hug and for some reason feels tears sting his eyes. He hasn't hugged anyone in a long time.

Baby June is an adorable ball of fluffy pink cuteness, her chubby fingers curled into plush fists as she stares up at him with the Weasley brown eyes. He gathers her into his arms and suddenly Ron's cooing makes perfect sense. This little girl was absolutely precious.

Once June is fed and settled for her afternoon nap, Hermione moves out of the nursery and links her hands iwith his.

"Let's take a walk, Harry." she beams up at him and he finds himself grinning in return.

They talk a familiar path, moving along a wooded promenade, the smell of the damp earth filling his head.

"Are you alright , Harry?" Hermione squeezes his fingers . For a few seconds he doesn't respond, pulling his hand away and rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'm fine , Mia."

Its an old nickname, reserved just for him. Hermione moves closer, wrapping an arm around his waist. He welcomes the warmth.

"I love the rain. Its like a wake up call, don't you think?" She smiles at him. He can see something in her eyes and he knows she's trying to tell him something. He isn't sure though.

Hermione sighs and hugs him closer.

"It's nature's personal wake up call. It washes away the dirt, the grime and the pollution. It makes everything new and fresh. "She looks up at him through long eyelashes.

He feels something bloom in his chest. Something tight and constricting. It felt like a fist around his lung, crushing the breath out of his body. He tries to take a breath but shudders, tears slipping out.

Hermione pulls him around, wrapping both her arms around his waist and burying her face in the crook of his shoulders. Her words are muffled but he hears them clearly.

"You need to wake up, Harry." She laces her fingers in his.

This time he squeezes back.


A/n :- I originally wrote this as a one shot but it seemed to long an windy so I've decided to split it into two... Let me know what you think. :) :)