Disclaimer: Again I don't own Harry Potter...
Summary: Draco and Harry split up and Harry ran. Now he is back and living in a muggle neighborhood, with Seamus and selling his paintings at a local cafe. HPDM SLASH. With mentions of HGRW.
A/N: This is the second chapter, and it gives a bit more insight into Harry and Draco's past. This, you will notice, I have called a FLASHBACK. However it really isn't a Flash back, it is just a way for me to tell you what happened.. but I couldn't think of what to call it.. so I stuck with flash back. Anyways... read on.
The bell tinkled softly as Harry pushed the door open. He carefully stepped out into the faint sunlight, the smell of recent rain filling his nostrils. He walked farther out of the door, letting the door fall shut behind him, and was instantly caught up in the hustle and bustle of after work shoppers. He smiled softly at the passers by who were carrying umbrellas while looking anxious as they tried not to gouge anyone. He kept walking, glad that he wasn't caught in the traffic that was moving sluggishly along. He turned right when he got to Pennington Street.
Harry's eyes traveled along the houses as he walked. When he had first moved in he had thought it was funny that all the houses looked the same, like it was something off of a postcard, now he didn't think it was funny. They all had the same white paint, the same light brown roof, and paned windows. They were all so boring. He stopped three blocks later in front of flat 50b. It looked identical to 50a except for the color of their doors. He sighed and walked slowly up their front walk, stopping to slide his key into the lock. He pushed hard on the door and winced slightly when it squeaked. He would have to oil it soon or it would start sticking again. He walked into his house and closed the door behind him, breathing deeply as he did. Fish... and flowers? Seamus must have a date.
"Oi! Seamus! I'm home! What's with the smell"" Harry yelled talking off his damp shoes and placing them by the hall tree and placing his keys on the side table. He automatically reached for the post, but it wasn't there. Seamus must have brought it up to the kitchen.
"It's our two month tonight! I'm cooking salmon and rice for Fredrik!" Seamus yelled back from the kitchen.
Harry smiled again as he climbed the stairs to the main level. He liked Fredrik. He was good looking in the blonde, blue eyed, Swedish sort of way. But more importantly he was so much nicer then the usual assholes Seamus dated, and he was sticking around. Harry hoped this one would work.
"Ah, I see. That would explain the over abundance of flowers. Tell me, did you happen to leave any at the shop?" Harry asked opening the fridge and taking out a soda.
"Ha-ha." Seamus said stirring a pot that appeared to hold some sort of vegetable. "So how was your day? Do anything productive?"
"Er.. well.. no. I went the Blue Moon; I brought my sketch book but then.. then I didn't feel like drawing. However Taylor says that the paintings should be done by Monday." Harry said taking a sip from his soda.
"Oh that's great! So he'll have them framed for you by the exposition? I know I've already told you, but they're really great Harry. They'll sell for big money." Seamus said looking up from the pot and smiling brightly.
Harry tried to smile back, but it felt forced. He found it funny that Seamus was more excited than he was. Money just wasn't very interesting to him. Though he doubted that was why he wasn't excited. He had been only a few hours ago, but now he felt rather numb. Somehow seeing Draco had sucked the enthusiasm out of him.
"Yeah it'll be brilliant. Really really great. But I'm a bit off color and my head is all wonky. I think I'll have a bath and then maybe watch a film before turning in." Harry called over his shoulder, already heading down the hall to his room. "Besides, don't want to be in the way when Freddie's here!
He heard Seamus giggle affectionately before he shut his door lightly. He stood just of the doorframe and surveyed his room. It was on the messy side but cozy. The room was long but narrow, with wood paneling covering the bottom half of the walls and light green pain on the top. In the far left corner, pressed up against the walls, was a large squashy bed with a lumpy quilt Hermione had made him. Close to his bed and under the only window sat his dresser. It was littered with loose change, CDs, cigarettes, matches and odd mementos. Against the wall opposite the bed was his desk and a small chair. Clothes covered a vast amount of the floor and shoes filled the bottom of his closet. The smell of freshly burnt incense still lingered in the air. He crossed the floor and tossed his bag gently onto the desk chair and then bent to scoop up some clothes and stuff them in his hamper.
"Hey Alexander." He said quietly to the sleeping orange tabby on his bed. Alexander had been last years Christmas present from Seamus. The cat lazily opened one eye to look at him and then closed it again.
Harry sighed, today felt so much longer then it really was. He took off his jacket and hung it across the back of his chair and then slowly walked to the door. He carefully turned the knob and stepped out into the hallway. He slowly padded to bathroom, stopping at the linen closet to get at towel. Glad that Seamus had finally done some laundry.
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Dim light filled the bathroom from two identical windows. Night was falling and the rain had started again. Harry turned on the light but it stung his eyes and he opted to leave it off. He walked to the bath and turned the hot water on full. He slowly began to get undressed, lifting his shirt over his head. He stopped and stared idly into the mirror at his reflection. He looked thin and pale. The circles under his eyes, ever visible, made him look sickly. He unzipped his trousers and let them fall to the floor before stepping out of them. He groaned softly, his body felt tired and his muscles taut. He sighed once more and dropped his boxers and carefully got into the tub.
Hot water engulfed him, stinging his cold feet and sending goose pimples up his thin arms. He sunk lower, letting his body run along the bottom of the tub. The warm water began to loosen his body and he felt his muscles relax and closed his eyes. Images from earlier that day started to flash through his mind. Draco's eyes, Draco's lips, Draco's smile, Draco's smell.. Draco. The very thought made his heart clench painfully. Why did he have to come back? It was so much easier to be over him when he wasn't here.
/FLASHBACK/
Soft light filled the yellow kitchen of a small apartment. A few dishes lay on the counter and even more were in the sink. A song played lazily across the scene from an old radio. A young man around the age of twenty-one sat at a large round wooden table. A half eaten cookie sat on a plate beside him. His body was slumped and he held his face in his hands, platinum blonde hair falling across his slender fingers.
"Draco I'm home! Draco.. where are you?" Harry called from the front room, walking towards the kitchen. "Oh there you are."
Draco didn't answer. He kept his face down, ignoring the cheerful boy in front of him.
"Draco? Draco are you okay?" Harry asked in a chair across from the blonde.
"Yeah. I mean no. I mean I don't know." Draco mumbled, the sound muffled by the pale hands in front of his face.
"Draco please tell me what's wrong." Harry said scooting his chair around the table to be closer to Draco. "What is it?"
"Nothing. I'm just thinking Harry." Draco said quietly, bending his body and resting his elbows on his knees, his face still in his hands.
"Okay. Thinking about what?" Harry asked becoming slightly worried. "Are you trying to break up with me?" He asked suddenly, trying to play the question off as s joke, but still wanting Draco's quick reassurance.
Draco stayed quiet from a few moments before raising his head to look Harry in the eyes. "Well.. yeah." He muttered softly, averting his eyes again.
"W-what! Why? Harry choked out, looking stricken. He felt like the floor had disappeared from beneath, he felt vulnerable. This couldn't be happening.
"I don't know. It's just not.. not working." Draco said lowering his face to his hands again in depletion. This seemed to be hurting Draco too, but Harry didn't care. He just wanted to know what the hell was happening.
"N-not working? What do you mean not working!" Harry asked, his voice wavering slightly. Draco couldn't be really doing this! This had to be a joke, a sadistic joke.
"Harry. I'm sorry. Really I am. I just don't think I love you.. anymore.. like.. like that." Draco ended lamely. He had parted his fingers to speak clearly and Harry could see his eyes. They were the same grey eyes he loved, but now they were filled with sad resolution.
Harry sat facing him for a few second but not really seeing. It wasn't sinking in properly. He was still waiting for him to suddenly shake and wake up with his face in his pillow and realize this had all been a horrible dream. But this wasn't a dream, and he knew that. If he was dreaming he wouldn't be able to feel his heart breaking.
"… but I still want to be friends Harry. You mean so much to me that I would hate for you not to be a part of my life." Draco said quietly. The cliché cut into Harry like a knife and panic suddenly coursed through him. This was actually happening, it was really over. The sudden urge to lay on the ground and cry his eyes out swept over him, but his instincts told him not to let Draco see him like that. His instincts told him to run, so he did. He stood quickly knocking over the chair and startling Draco. He walked quickly out of the kitchen and grabbed his bag and keys from the entry way and then he ran.
He wasn't sure if Draco called after him, all he heard was the wind in his ears and small fragments of their conversation.
Harry ran and ran; down alley ways and side streets. He ran past people talking walks in the setting sun and women pushing baby carriages. He ran until he got to the tube and then he broke down. He cried until he got to Notting Hill. Feeling utterly pathetic with every look of pity he received. Once he got out of the tube he started to run again. He barely made it to Ron and Hermione's before he collapsed. They had welcomed him in with open arms; Hermione providing him with a shoulder to cry on and a warm cup of tea and Ron threatening 'to go over there and kill the stupid prick.' In the end he had stayed with them for a week before collecting his things from his and Draco's flat and then moving to Lille, France.
Over time Draco had slowly exited his thoughts and his heart had become less fragile. Away from everyone Harry more time for his paintings and more inspiration. However after a little more then a year in France he had moved back to England and into the little white house with Seamus. Even after three years it still felt like he was running. And Draco had finally caught up.
/END FLASHBACK/
Harry felt weak and exhausted. He felt like he had broken up with Draco all over again. He wanted nothing more then to curl up with a pint of ice cream, watch a sappy romantic film where everyone ends up happy in the end and forget all about Draco Malfoy.
He carefully heaved himself out of the bath and the water that was now only lukewarm. The cold air chilled his body as he brought the fluffy towel to his damp skin. He gave himself another once over in the mirror, he looked a mess.
He quickly brushed his teeth and washed his face before quietly stepping out of the bathroom. The lights were almost all off and he could here Seamus' loud laugh from the living room. Their date had begun; it was too late for ice cream. He tip-toed back to his room and dimmed the light. He switched on the TV, immediately turning down the volume. He dropped the towel to the floor in a heap and quickly climbed into bed. He loved the feel of the warm blankets against his cold naked skin. He felt warm and drowsy under his mountain of blankets. The world felt safe at this distance.
"Good night Alexander."