A/N: Second in the series! This isn't really linked at all to the first "chapter", it is merely a continuation of a theme (and subsequently story). They are both solitary pieces of fluff but are in the same style and use the same Harry and Draco. Enjoy!

Situation

"Well I think… but maybe… wait, if I… hang on…"

Harry stood hunched over a piece of parchment in the middle of a darkening street, chuntering to himself. Draco was huddled by a lamppost a few feet from him, in full sulk mode. His steely grey eyes glinted menacingly, his slender arms firmly crossed over his chest. "I'm cold, Harry."

"Yes," Harry waved half-heartedly in the blond's direction, not once taking his eyes off the piece of parchment he was studying.

"Harry, it's wet and I'm freezing. Why aren't we going anywhere?" Draco stamped his foot to emphasise the point.

"I can't find… where we're going… or… maybe… hang on…" Harry's stilted reply was far from comforting.

"It is a map for Christ's sake. It cannot be that hard to read, Harry."

Despite Harry's previous promises that finding their own way to the party would be half the fun, Draco's initial attempt at enthusiasm was rapidly mutating into a particularly virulent form of exasperation. He angrily thrust a pale hand into his jacket pocket and produced a second piece of paper from which he read: "'You are cordially invited blah blah blah the hall is situated at 12 Baker's street, North London and can be reached by floo powder, portkey, broomstick or apparition.' No-one else is walking there, Harry."

Harry paused in the middle of rotating the piece of parchment, "But I wanted to see London, Dray. We've had a great day, face it, and now you're just bitching because your feet are tired. Besides, I think we're almost there," he added triumphantly.

"You think?" Draco narrowed his eyes and glared at his boyfriend across the cobbled street, "Do you actually have the faintest idea of where we are?"

Harry looked at his feet sheepishly, "Well, not exactly…"

Draco threw his hands in the air and spun on the spot dramatically through frustration. "So we're lost, yes?" he demanded.

"Well, not completely… or maybe… just a little bit," Harry wilted under Draco's piercing stare. "Yes, we're lost," he admitted.

"Thank you," muttered Draco, crossing the street, "you are a complete prat, Harry."

"Gee thanks," exclaimed the raven-haired man, "it's really nice to know you care."

Draco smiled and wrapped his arms around Harry's thickly clad waist, slipping his freezing hands into the former Gryffindor's back pockets. "You know I do."

"Fine," Harry agreed, snaking his own arms around Draco and pulling him closer. "There's still the issue of getting to the party, though," he added as Draco brought his face nearer to Harry's own.

"Or," Draco ventured, stopping to kiss Harry gently on the lips, "we could go home." His tongue found Harry's and they got lost in each other, fiery passion cutting through the cold. Draco pulled away, "I am awfully tired," he pouted.

Harry grinned, "We'd better get you to bed then." His hand wound itself into Draco's silken hair as they sank back into the kiss and, with a pop, disappeared from the misty, lamp-lit street.

Yet another ingenious title. I do love fluff. More angst on its way! Expect more of this aussi, though.

Go! Review!