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Chapter 2

When Harry had accepted the invitation to go to town with the two of his closest friends, he hadn't expected anything interesting to happen. After all, this was just Little Whinging, the dullest town on the map. The most exciting thing that had happened in this town since as far as Harry could remember was when one of the locals went to Hogsmeade for a vacation or--and this hadn't happened since Ron's older brother Bill had come to visit last time--someone actually got to see Diagon Alley.

Which was something that rarely, if ever, happened for anyone in this town. To even been seen near Diagon Alley, you had to have a certain amount of money and a hell of a lot of style. Not that Ron's brother Bill had either, but he did work for Gringotts, the largest bank chain in the area so he was easily able to see the place from time to time.

It was a full-town event whenever Bill came to visit, as sad as that sounded. And that was even discounting when Ron's other brother Charlie came to visit...Harry still couldn't remember everything he had done that night and the party had been nearly a year ago.

'Oh well. It's probably for the best.'He consoled himself, watching the scenery roll by. It wasn't much to look at, just an occasional tree and a whole hell of a lot of farm land. It was most definitely dull but, at the very least, it was home. 'At least I'm not living with my relatives anymore.'

A shudder ran through Harry at the thought. He'd only been a year old when he had moved in with his relatives after his parents had died in a 'supposed' car crash. Living with his aunt Petunia, uncle Vernon, and annoying older cousin Dudley had been a practice in self control and anger management. Every day, each one of them pushed Harry to his limit till he was sure he was going to snap and just punch one of them in their face. That is, until he'd become best friend's with Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.

Ron had lived in the town for most of his life. He was part of one of the families whose ancestry, amazingly, almost lead back to the very founding of the town. Everyone knew his name and everyone was his friend. The few people who weren't really close friends with him, thought of him as their little brother since, in fact, he had five older brothers and one little sister. Harry and Ron had been friends for years despite Harry not being allowed out that much by his relatives.

Then there was Hermione, whom had moved to the town just a short while ago with her parents, the resident dentists of the town. She was unlike anyone Ron and Harry had met over the years, which was probably why his friend was so in love with her though he denied it. She had moved from Hogsmeade to Little Whinging when her parents had decided that city life just wasn't the right place to raise a growing girl and despite the extreme change, Hermione had taken to small town living like a duck to water.

Which was why, Harry supposed, he owed both of them such a great deal. Less than a year ago when things were just beginning to truly begin to become horrible in his relatives household for him, Harry had been able to, with Ron and Hermione's help, save enough money to move out of 

his relatives house , which was a blessing in a blessing since they had "unexpectedly" decided to move two days later, into a semi-cheap flat but also helped him wrangle a part time job at The Leaky Cauldron.

Being a part time dish washer and bus boy wasn't glamorous in any sense of the word but it kept the rent paid and the groceries stocked, which was more than he could say for some of the other jobs he'd had over the years.

'Yeah. Like Uncle Vernon said " the world needs ditch-diggers too, boy"Harry thought disgustedly.

At seventeen years old, Harry was hardly a world famous movie-star but he still liked to think of himself a little higher up the food chain than a ditch digger. Not that there was anything wrong with that particular profession but--

'I want something more than that.' Harry mused, bracing himself against the side of the truck as it dipped into yet another pot-hole along the worn road.

What the 'more' Harry wanted was, he couldn't say, but whatever it was, he could sure in the hell guarantee it was more than what his relatives thought he would get. It was more than what most people thought he could get. Despite being well liked around the small town of Little Whinging, he had more than a few friends, young and old alike; Harry knew that the town viewed him as a fixture.

Someone who would never leave the clutches of open farm land; someone who would always be there if they needed a helping hand. But Harry couldn't help but feel that there was something more out there for him. Something greater than the back room of The Cauldron and his musty old apartment above it.

A sigh escaped the boy's lips. There wasn't a use in dwelling on those depressing thoughts right now. They would do him no good here. He'd just have to make sure that life changed when he had gathered enough money to do it or when the opportunity presented itself.

Casting a quick glance over his shoulder to see where, Harry placed one hand on top of the package that Ron was trying his best to make fly out of the bed of the truck. Inside, Harry knew was a care package from Ron's mother, Molly, to Regina Sprout, the local herbalist and one of Hermione's hero. Apparently, poor Regina had come down with a nasty case of the flu but Harry had a sneaking suspicion that her unexpected close-up-shop-sick-week had more to do with the fact that Regina's old beau, Barty Crouch was in town visiting.

'I don't understand what she sees in the old goat. He's just so smarmy.' Harry thought, remembering the first time he had ever met the man. He had been minding the bar of the Cauldron for Tom, when old Barty had burst in three-sheets to the wed talking about needing a good drink or a good fight. Whichever came first.

Harry had had to tackle the old dodger just to get him stop throwing punches in the air at anybody who passed by him.

'I wonder how Mrs. Figg's eye is doing…'Harry thought distractedly as he felt the truck suddenly begin to accelerate. That meant one of two things: either they were getting close to town or Ron had lost control of the truck -- again.

'I really need to start driving us.' Harry thought wearily as he struggled to keep his glasses from slipping off his nose. Sometimes it seemed as though Ron expected the truck to just drive itself. 'I'd probably have fewer bruises if it did.'

Not that Harry was one to talk since he had yet to receive his driver's license. You had to actually know how to drive to get it, he had found out. And though Harry wasn't above asking for some lesson from Ron or Hermione's parents, he wasn't too keen on the idea of having to explain to the local uppity transportation officials why he was getting a license but had no car.

As it were, however, Harry had found that he was able to hitch a ride easily enough from one of the locals or just take the sickle-bus, as it was deemed by Ron, since the driver insisted that Harry only pay a sickle a ride since he used it so much, to where he needed to go. Which wasn't very far since most of what the town had to offer was concentrated in one single area.

For most of the town citizens, that was okay. But to Harry, it was a nightmare.

'Same shit, different day.' He mourned silently, gripping the side of the truck. Everyone who lived in the town had long past given up on something interesting happening and the quiet living suited them better. After the war was over, people around Little Whinging glorified in the mundane and simple. It was the nature of the beast, Harry supposed. Small towns weren't exactly known a wild pits of sin and debauchery. Not that that was what Harry was looking for but it would be nice to have something to do besides going to hang out at the Cauldron, the place he worked, on a Friday evening.

"Oi! Harry! Hold on!" Ron's voice bellowed from inside the cab of the truck.

Harry grimaced, curling his fingers tighter against the side of the truck and bracing his feet against the bed. He couldn't help but let out a yelp as the truck gave a large jerk, slamming his shoulder painfully against the side of the truck. Moments later, familiar buildings came into his view: The Leaky Cauldron, Sprout's Herbal Shop, the all-night grocer, and a few other small town necessities.

'Just enough to make sure you never have to leave this damn place.'Harry mused, pressing his shoulder against the side of the truck to keep from getting another bruise. And it was true. Despite the fact that the town was small and out of the way, it had all the amenities that it needed for the citizens to survive.

A hiss of pain escaped Harry's lips as his head slammed back against the truck when it suddenly came to a somewhat screeching halt.

Harry blinked blearily, trying to shake the spots that were flashing in front his eyes away. Already he could hear Hermione chastising Ron for his driving. Some thing's never change. Every single time the three of them went to town, Hermione yelled at Ron but yet, she never asked to drive herself.

"Are you happy, Ron?! You could have killed us!" Hermione screeched, as she flung herself out the truck.

Harry rolled his eyes beneath his glasses. Hermione would really never change. She always said the same thing.

Turning his head so he could see Ron, Harry cracked a small smile when his friend threw him a 'why me?' look through the back window. Some things would definitely never change.

"Don't be so dramatic, 'Moine." The red-head replied, slipping out of the truck. Harry's smile slipped slightly as another sigh escaped his lips. It was so bloody hot now that the truck was stopped. He hadn't noticed before, he'd been too busy holding on for dear life.

Pushing his glasses farther up his nose, the boy pealed himself from the bed, running his hand through his wind swept hair, trying to no avail to tame it. With another sigh of irritation, he leaned down and grabbed the package.

"You don't think Ron's driving might have broken something in it, do you Harry?" Hermione asked, reaching her arms out to take the package from him.

Harry shrugged. "Maybe."

Waiting till he was sure that his friend had a good grip on the package, Harry wiping his fingers on his jeans before bracing a hand on the side and jumping over the side to land with a soft thump. He really didn't want to be on the receiving end of one of Hermione's yelling sprees if something was broke. He'd been at the end of one once, that had been more than enough.

"Well, come on then, don't just stand there all day." Hermione snapped, shoving the package into Ron's arms before hurrying off into the direction of Sprout's shop. Ron rolled his eyes again and began to follow. Harry shook his head, a smile tugging his lips. Those two already acted like a married couple and they weren't even dating. Yet.

Taking a deep breath of the hot dry air, Harry let his eyes roam over the town. So different but yet the same, day in and day out. It was a comfort and a hindrance for him. So many times he had dreamed of leaving this town and all it's many occupants behind; living the glamorous life on some shore side mansion, getting suits tailored in Madame Milkin's shop, cruising Diagon Alley with all the upper crust of society. Actually relaxing backstage in Platform 9 ¾while his band tuned up on stage waiting for him.

That was definitely what dreams were made of.

Abruptly, a scuffing noise to his right drew Harry's attention. Who would it be? Someone asking a favor or one of his friends just saying hi? But, it was neither.

Harry felt his mouth go dry and throat tight at what he found waiting for him: A young man, no more than a year older than himself stood watching his friend's retreating backs, just in the shade a few meters off.

'He's definitely not from around here.' Harry considered, taking in the pressed designer button down shirt, rumbled khakis and delicate sunglasses the perched on the bridge of the boy's nose.

But the other man's clothes were only a side attraction to how badly he stood out in the town. The cool confidence and flutter of arrogance that hung over him like a second skin made his whole presence scream that he didn't belong here. The boy was like a ball of sparkling brightness in a town full of dirt mounds.

Forcing himself to swallow past the lump in his throat, Harry found the need to find out who this boy was, why he was here and, most importantly, how long he'd be staying made almost over powering. Without realizing it, the bespectacled boy began to take a step towards the alluring and breathtaking creature that had appeared in the town over night.

'Just one look…just one…' Harry promised himself, taking a long delicious look at those ivory-cream features that were flushed red from the sun. It made Harry's stomach do an odd little somersault.

In spite of the fact that the sun was making Harry's skin burn and sweat like he was locked in a sauna, the other boy looked, for lack of a better term, cool. The soft skin of his cheeks had rosy tints that made Harry's chest flutter. The boy's blonde hair shimmered white in the sunlight and Harry could almost imagine how soft it would be. The boy's lips, that even from this distance looked delicate and soft, were held open in a small "O" as he gave short pants of breath in and out.

Harry shifted his jeans suddenly uncomfortably tight as he continued his inspection. The boy's eyes were hidden behind the reflective glass off designer sun glasses but Harry would have bet his week's paycheck that they would be steely gray underneath. He wasn't sure why or how, but he just knew they would be.

Taking a shaky breath in, Harry tried to control the urge to run to the boy and just -- just--

'Oh damn…' Harry thought as the other boy, as if in slow motion, felt Harry's eyes on him and turned to look. His breath caught in his throat.

This boy was -- exquisite with his tailored clothes, expensive sunglasses and alluring physique. He practically breathe wealth and power. Lots of it.

For what seemed to be an eternity, Harry held the boys gaze, his curiosity over riding all sense of politeness. This, this was exactly what Harry had always been waiting for. This boy who made fear and longing coil in his stomach almost to the point of making him dizzy.

And then, the other boy was moving, one step, two. He stopped, looking at Harry unsure. Purely on instinctive, a shy smile formed on Harry's lips. The moment it did, he was more than thankful. His smile seemed to make the other boy sway forward another step.

'That's it. Just a few more steps…'

"Harry? You coming, mate?"

Harry blinked, eyes flickering away to his friends and then back, his smile still firmly in place. That seemed to wrench another step out of the boy. Harry couldn't help but grin.

"No. No, I don't think I will. I'll meet you both at the Cauldron." He said, his eyes staying glued on the other boy's.

"Oh, okay. See you there." His friend said, moving off towards Hermione.

Harry hardly noticed, so intent was he on the blond. Minutes passed as he waited for the other boy to move but he didn't.

'Guess it's my move…'Harry deliberated. Taking a deep breath, the raven haired boy began to move towards the blond, heart pounding in his chest.