A/n: I'm weak, girls (guys). Yes I admit it. I cannot leave a written chapter on my computer without posting it. I tried to, because I want to have more regular postings, so that you don't have to wait too long if I don't write anything for a longer period of time, but no. I cannot keep it to myself... (though i have a feeling you won't begrudge me this :)

Well here it is then. I put a lot of effort in this, so I hope you will make some effort too :)


Chapter 2.

Start of What?

The weekend. The time when Draco was usually out doing something with someone, blowing off some steam, getting rid of bottled up energy and anger and frustration and stress.

This time however, all those things were still coiled up in his stomach, in his chest. They were churning and biting him, in alliance with this new, burning curiosity and bewilderment and concern.

Last week he had been left behind at the bar by Harry… Potter.

It felt like he should think of him by his last name, because it had been like meeting a stranger. But not completely like a stranger, because the name 'Harry' was still dear to him; even though it had been buried deep for a long time, the sound of its vowels and consonants in his head sounded like he felt when having sex.

It wasn't as intense a feeling of satisfaction of course. Seriously, whatever the most romantic of books or movies said, for Draco, nothing could beat sex. It was his antidepressant, the honey of his holy land, the…

Clearly, he had spent too much time with Blaise. That was his kind of talk.

And speaking of the devil. Draco's cell phone rang, blinking his gay friend's name on the screen. He reached over to take it off the nightstand. He'd just turned it on for the first time in a week, and he was already feeling like it was a mistake.

"Draaaake! Finally you answer me you blithering idiot! What kind of git turns off their cell-phone for an entire bloody week! Do you realise…"

Grey-eyes was already drifting away. Usually he had no troubles with his friend, but now…now was not a good time. For the last week he had been entirely lost. The encounter with his childhood friend had shaken him more than he'd realised at first. And the worst were the endless questions, and the one ultimate question: why? Why had he just disappeared like that and never shown himself again, or even sent just a tiny email, just a few words. It would've taken him only seconds to say: "Hey, I'm not coming back. I'm…" and then whatever the hell he was doing now, or where he had gone. He had probably moved away with his family.

But now. Now the boy was eighteen. And Draco could not help but wonder. Had Harry finished his education? What school had he attended? Why hadn't he gone back to St-James? He'd gotten a full scholarship! And they had had so much fun together! Didn't Harry like waking up in the same bed in the mornings? Or had Draco chased him away with the parties and his talk about his girlfriends?

It was only after Draco graduated that he had come to see that Harry had always been more mature than him. And he'd remembered all the times his friend had been exasperated by his behaviour.

So was that the reason? Why? What was it? What had he done wrong?

The day he'd realised Harry was gone was the first day of his life Draco had felt insecure about himself. The first time he'd wondered if he was good enough, funny enough, smart enough, entertaining enough… Before, everyone just liked him (or disliked him). He'd never cared much either way. And he certainly didn't care why people liked him or not.

And there he was. A working-class adult of twenty-one, lying in his bed on a Saturday morning after turning in early on a Friday for goodness sake! And he was still wondering about that same thing, that same person. Still pondering all his mistakes and shortcomings. It was outrageous…and inevitable.

Draco Malfoy decided he didn't care if he was an addict or delinquent, he didn't give a ****. (In the blonde's mind, there weren't actual stars, for your information.), he got up, leaving his phone behind to vibrate to its heart's content, and got to the liquor cabinet in his tiny open kitchen, which had a bar, and was nestled in the middle of his dining and living room.

Well, dining room was much said. There was no table, nor any chairs. There was just a bar and some stools surrounding said kitchen, and then the sofa and two armchairs close by the large window.

It was a crappy apartment, but it was good enough for a bachelor, living on his own, spending most of his time at work or out. The one thing he did like about it, and the reason why he had taken it, was the view from the one window. You could see the Thames slither through the grey landscape that was London. And at night, the lights of the streets twinkled in funny patterns, with a dark strip where the river flowed, which reflected those yellow dots in wavy colours.

The morning was sunny now. It was already past noon actually. So Draco thought his early alcohol consumption could be excused.

But knowing that he had drunk several glasses of some strong liquor every evening during the last week wasn't helping his conscience. Was he developing an alcoholic's behaviour?

The cell-phone was buzzing loudly against his sheets in his bedroom. He ignored it.

But a little later, a knock was to be heard on his door, which was a little harder to let pass by.

"Hey, mate." Ron's red head walked through his front door a few moments later, and plopped down on his couch. "Hermione's told me you acted weird when she saw you this week, and your phone's been off. She sent me 'cause she's worried. You know how she gets…"

Grey-eyes sighed internally as he filled another glass with the strong amber liquid. He knew Ron would forgive him his early consumption if he shared.

"Already?" Ron's eyes widened when Draco handed him the glass and he noticed the one in his friend's hand. "Are you all right?" His tone suggested that he was starting to believe Hermione was right to worry.

"Yeah, I'm great. I'm just fantastic." Draco sneered. "Don't you see?" He made a sweeping gesture with his hand to indicate himself. His phone vibrated loudly once again.

"You turned your mobile back on?" The Weasley wondered aloud.

"I had to sometime."

"What's got you upside down like this?" Ron asked roughly, but not meanly. "The last time I saw you this way was…you know."

Draco grunted and took a large gulp from the whiskey. The last time he'd been so lost? That had been the day he came closer to understand Harry's suffering. It was the day Narcissa, his mother, had died. The day he'd understood a little better what Harry must've felt.

"I don't want to talk about it, Weasley."

Draco still used his friend's surname whenever he was irritated. It was a clear sign to everyone that his buttons should not be pushed.

"Fine, mate. But I have to tell Hermione something." Ron shrugged and drunk all of his whiskey in one gulp before getting up and moving towards the door. He knew when it was time to leave.

"Tell her work and loneliness is getting to me. She'll certainly go for that."

"All right." Ron nodded in ascent.

"Hey, Ron." Draco called before the redhead was out the door. "How's training going?" He tried a smile to look a little friendlier. At least Ron knew him well enough to appreciate the effort.

"Nothing new at the moment." The redhead shrugged. "But thanks for asking." And he left with a grateful smile. It was an advantage to him to have someone to talk to who had already gone through the entire training for the Special Police Force.

Once Ron had left, Draco was still not at ease. His phone was still buzzing every few minutes. It was his voicemail telling him he had messages. Most probably from Blaise and Hermione, or his boss, scolding him for shutting off his phone for a week, even though he had gone in for work every day on time.

But what else could he have done? He didn't wish to speak to anyone, he didn't wish to think about anything… There was just one thing he wanted. To see a certain person again and get all the answers to the questions that had lain inside of him all this time. He wanted to know, and when Draco really wanted something, he could never let it go.

A plan slowly began to hatch into the blonde's mind as he watched the sun drop lower towards the horizon. It wasn't very sophisticated. In fact, it was hardly even the beginning of a plan, but it was enough to get him into the shower, a new set of clothes, and into his car, on his way to the same neighbourhood he had visited with his friend a week earlier.

What are the chances of him being there again? It's Saturday, last time was a Friday. But it's still the weekend… But was he going for amusement, or had he been there with a purpose? The bloke he'd been with hadn't looked like a friend. They hadn't talked to each other as if they liked each other. It had looked like a business transaction, and a shady one at that.

Another question. Too many questions. He had to find Harry.

It took him a total of five hours of driving and walking around, and visiting several pubs and bars close to the one where he'd seen the teenager, to finally catch a glimpse of what he'd been looking for.

Harry didn't make it easy on him. He was still wearing his dark wool hat, half-pulled over his hair, he wasn't wearing glasses this time, was dressed overall in dark clothes and was walking at a brisk pace along the pavement, and into a little square park.

Draco had to force himself not to run, for that would maybe alarm the younger one. Harry hadn't reacted well to the news that Draco was now working for the police. So he fast-walked after him, his legs luckily being longer and giving him more speed.

Harry seemed in a great hurry, crossing the park in less than a minute, but the blonde had reached him just before they exited the little hedges that delimited the small green space.

The dark-haired teenager swung around in one swift motion before Draco could catch his arm. Of course, there weren't many people around anymore at almost one in the morning, except for some straggling party-goers, so he must've heard Draco's footsteps following him.

"Wh…Dra…you." He finished after a few aborted tries. His glass-less eyes darted left and right before darkening unto the blonde. He had to look up, and clearly that did not suit him very well. "Why are you following me?" He demanded calmly. But Draco could hear his breathing was hitched. Was he nervous?

"Why haven't you called?"

"What?"

This answer upset Draco more than he ever wanted to admit. Had Harry even looked at the little paper he'd given him last time? The one with his number on it?

"I gave you my number. Why didn't you call me?"

"Why would I have called you?" Harry asked. But it didn't sound mean or derisive. He seemed genuinely confused as to any reason why he would call.

Grey-eyes was flabbergasted. "Why? Why?" He almost yelled, then took a deep breath to lower his tone of voice. "Because everything! Because I'm Draco. Because you're Harry. Because we were friends once, and because you disappeared, not only on me, but on your best friends too. Now why could I possibly want an explanation, or even just some news?"

The eighteen-year old was shifting his weight, restlessly moving this way and that, as if he wanted to get away from there as quickly as possible. But for the first time, his expression towards the blonde softened, and Draco could finally recognize a hint of the warmth he once found in Harry's arms in the morning. He suddenly craved that feeling so much he felt choked by it.

Since the raven wasn't immediately answering, Draco felt compelled to push forward.

"Can we sit down somewhere? Want to go for a drink?"

"No." Harry answered curtly, taking Draco a little by surprise. "Let's sit here." And he moved to the closest bench.

The rotting wood felt icy even through the protection of Draco's coat. Harry must be freezing. He thought as he looked at the dark-haired one. Harry had always had trouble staying warm, and he was now wearing a much thinner jacket than Draco. It hugged Harry's body closely and revealed a thin androgynous frame.

Both admiring him, and keeping himself from voicing his concern over the cold at the same time, the blonde turned his eyes away and looked at his watch.

Ten past one. Where had Harry gone this late? Was he going home from a night out with friends? Draco hoped so. But he didn't dare ask such a direct and rude question. In his younger years he wouldn't have cared. But as mentioned before, Draco had seen how immature he had been in the past and had done a lot of effort to change that.

In case Harry had left because of his immaturity, Draco wanted to show that he had changed for the better.

"Why were you following me?" Harry repeated his earlier question.

"I just saw you walking down the street as I came out of the bar over there. I thought I'd say hi, since you didn't call."

"Sorry." Draco's heart felt a pinch at that word, spoken by Harry's now soft and sincere voice. "I lost the paper."

"Of course." Draco couldn't help this one sneer. That had just so obviously been a lie. It was disappointing after the beautiful apology that had preceded it.

Harry made no response to that. He still looked agitated. So Draco spoke up again.

"So tell me now then, since you couldn't call, how are you?"

This question seemed to bewilder the dark-haired boy. "Uh…well. I'm…uh…fine?" He ended it like it was a question. "And how…how are you?"

"I'm fine too." He said. 'Good' would be a lie. And contrary to Harry, he was decided not to lie to him.

"And…uh…well….Ron and Hermione…you still uh…see them?"

At least he has the sense to be embarrassed about abandoning us. Draco thought with some grim satisfaction. At least it showed that Harry cared whether he'd hurt them or not.

"Yes, I still see them regularly. Ron is also on his way to becoming a policeman, and Hermione is at university, of course. She's in her second year, studying Chemistry."

"Oh. Chemistry." The tone in the voice made Draco look, just in time to see the flash of a tiny smile on Harry's features.

"Are you studying too?" Draco asked conversationally. Quite unexpectedly, even such a routine question earned him another curt "No." As if he'd somehow offended him. He frowned shortly, then tried again, afraid the conversation would end there. "Didn't feel like it?"

Harry shrugged.

And nothing more.

God, don't tell me he's one of those insufferable teenagers! Draco prayed internally. He'd seen more than he wished in his line of work, or on public transportations. Having been one himself, it particularly annoyed him.

"What do you do then? Do you follow some kind of training? Or do you work?"

"Are we really going to talk about such boring shite?" Harry said in an irritated tone.

Insufferable teenager it is. Draco sighed, letting a small cloud of steam escape his mouth. He was surprised it was that cold already.

A long moment passed while nothing was heard but the sound of nightly traffic. The awkwardness was palpable. And Draco was frustrated by it. He'd thought…he'd hoped…during the last week he'd imagined that f he saw Harry again, they could fall right into the same complicity they'd shared four years previously.

But Harry had very clearly, obviously, changed. Things changed. That fucking time! It always had to change things!

"I'm getting cold, and I have to go." Harry said suddenly as he jumped to his feet.

For a short second, Draco let his eyes drift over his old friend's silhouette. Yes, he definitely looked good in those grey-black jeans. And even the wool hat had its charm. It's deep purple colour brought out Harry's green orbs in an unusual way. It made them even more striking, even in the dark.

"Wait!" Draco jumped up too, only too happy to leave the freezing bench. "You have to call me this time, or give me your number."

"You want to talk more?" Harry said as if this seemed inconceivable to him.

"And why would I not?" Draco spit back a little viciously. He kept feeling rejected and he did not like it.

The raven was still in a hurry. So it was in a haste that he conceded to accepting a new little paper from Draco and stashed it into his thin jacket's pocket.

"Do you come here often?" The blonde tried to prolong the moment until he would have to watch Harry's back retreat.

"It depends." Harry answered vaguely.

"Can't we make some plans to have a drink some time? I could call Ron and Hermione."

This seemed to make the young adolescent sway. His expression changed several times, too quickly for grey-eyes to understand. But in the end, the only answer he gave was "We'll see."

And then he turned away and continued on his way with the same brisk walk from before.


How many chapters has it been now? I've lost count. How many end-notes have I written? Too many.

I'll just say...I...need...life...force...I...need...reviews ...I'm...dying...heeeere...aaaaaaaaaaaaargh

just kidding :p

Aoiika