Title: Books and Black Coffee
Inspiration: Girl From Yesterday - the Eagles
Summary: Drarry through Ginny's letters

Dear Harry,

You said it would be a routine mission - that you'd be back with a Death Eater in tow, set for Azkaban - within a month. It's been three. Harry - love - I miss you. You could at least write, you know - although I suppose this time must be more danger-fraught than usual. Still - three months with no word is hard, you know. I can't even bring myself to look through your things - do your laundry - use your special coffee mug - it hurts too much, missing you. Please - let me know when you're coming home.

Love always,
Ginny

oOo

Harry sighed, folding up the parchment. He still hadn't figured out a way to tell his girlfriend properly - ex-girlfriend, he wished. He'd never been much of a hand with clingy females - females in general, really. How was he supposed to explain that he just didn't love her? It was better if she just thought long-distance didn't work, right? He'd left that flat three months ago with no intentions of returning. Ever. Obviously she hadn't seen that - well, that none of his clothes remained. Or his "things" - she did say that she hadn't looked.

Beside him, Draco munched on a croissant, sipping his black coffee, intent on reading a book. The pair were seated comfortably in a French coffeeshop, dark-wizard-catching the last thing on their minds. Sort of. Harry, at least, had come here with the intention of sticking around for a good long while (until Ginny got remarried? He'd heard Blaise was making eyes at her...)

Draco, though? He wasn't wholly sure. They had originally come here looking for Rodolfus Lestrange - but that search had lasted two weeks. Draco kept inventing some excuse about family matters - he did have extended family here, Harry grudgingly acknowledged. Still, it seemed as though he spent more time wandering around Paris bookstores and coffeeshops than anywhere else.

The blond ex-nemesis was still a complete mystery to him. They weren't friends, really - at least, he didn't think they were. Draco had gotten quiet after the war, rarely speaking unless answering a question. Like now, as he sipped his coffee and ate his croissant. Reading some novel or other - he seemed right at home.

Harry sighed. He really would have to do something about Ginny.

oOo

Dear Harry,

You've found a new job? Don't you think we ought to have - talked about this? I mean - what does this mean for our relationship? I can't up and leave England, you know. You could warned me, couldn't you? Harry, - whatever your motives are - I promise I'll understand - and love you - and it'll all be fine - just come back soon, please?

I know you will eventually - I know how much you love me, darling - but just... make it soon? I have so many dreams for us, for our future. We all miss you so - especially me.

Love always,
Ginny

oOo

Harry crumpled up the parchment and threw into a corner, growling with frustration. "I just - argh! Women!"

Draco looked up from his book - always reading, the bastard - and smiled a little at the raven-haired man's distress as he set down his almost-empty cup of black coffee. "Ginny? Still? Merlin, you're not that attractive, for her to pine away like she does."

"Thanks, Draco." He knew that the other wizard would want to see the letter - why else would he have spoken? Malfoy chose his words carefully - there was always a hidden meaning to them, if you cared - or knew - enough to find it. Using his wand, he uncrumpled it, and sent into his lap.

He couldn't help but snicker as he read the short missive. "She's got it bad. What are you going to tell her?"

Harry shrugged helplessly. "I don't know - I can't just lie and tell her that I've got a new bo-er, girlfriend - and anyway, even if I was with someone - it would be slightly bastard-ish of me to do so without warning, no? I mean, I probably should have warned her when I walked out all those weeks ago - months, it's been." He collapsed onto the bed. "Oh, this is all my bloody fault."

Draco chuckled, returning to his book and his black coffee.

Bloody bastard doesn't say a word when he actually needs to.

oOo

Dear Harry,

Ron's birthday is coming up - in March - and we're all hoping you'll be here for it. You will, won't you, love? Everyone's been asking about you - even Romilda Vane, about that hippogriff tattoo on your chest. :)

I mean, really, you silly goose. If I'm stooping to Romilda - you must know how desperately we all miss you. How desperately I miss you. Here, in our flat. I think I'm going to go through your things, just - for your scent, the warmth, the memories. It's been four months now, Harry. Do come back - for my sake - I know how much I mean to you.

Love always,
Ginny

oOo

"Romilda Vane asked if you've got a hippogriff across your chest?" Draco's face was - indescribable. Delight suffused him at this latest hilarity - he did enjoy Harry's discomfort, didn't he? Schadenfreude.

Although - he'd been becoming far more extroverted as of late. He actually initiated conversations now, didn't just reply with one word answers or nods. Harry still hadn't quite figured out why he was still here, without a job, living off of the Malfoy family inheritance.

"Yeah, in sixth year. Ginny told her it was a dragon," he smiled at the recollection - but the expression was short-lived, replaced by one of regret and uncertainty.

Draco paused. "Why did you leave?"

"I - I didn't love her-"

"Potter - if you're remembering useless details like who said what sixth year - there's more to it than you just don't care anymore. And you never were one to stop caring, anyway."

"Fine - it's just - she's like a sister, nothing more. Like Hermione."

Curious, he posed another question. "Have there ever been any girls that weren't just a sister?"

"Well - Cho, I suppose - but that was a disaster, doomed from the start - I don't suppose I ever really cared for her."

"Did you," he swallowed, "kiss her?"

"Yeah, fifth year. Why?"

"What - was it like?"

"Wet. She was crying."

"Your first kiss, and you already made the girl cry? Merlin, Potter."

"She was bawling about Cedric - nothing I could do, really." He frowned. "Why the interrogation?"

The blond shook his head. "Nothing - just something that struck me, a whim, I suppose."

"What wh-"

"I think my cousin wanted to talk to me about some family matter or the other," he said loudly, cutting across Harry. "I ought to be going."

Harry was left alone with his thoughts - and a whim that occurred to him as he watched the lean figure walk out the door.

oOo

Dear Harry,

Ron's birthday has come and gone - it's nearly May, now. I don't know what to say - you took all your things, didn't you? Why, Harry? If you needed to leave England, you should have just told me - I would have come with you.

I suppose you're just too noble to ask that of me, aren't you? At least tell me where you are now, and I'll come join you - Pig takes your letters to you without an address, I think.

Write me where you're staying, and we can start over, if that's what you want. Whatever you need, darling - I'll be there for you, every step of the way. That's a promise. I'll never leave you, Harry - I'm no Cho Chang or Romilda Vane - you know that. That's why you love me, isn't it?

Anyway - write me where you are and I'll just come live with you. Things will get better, I know. For both of us - moving on is hard, but not as much when you have someone at your side. Someone you care about - and who cares about you. You're that person for me, Harry - and I am for you. It's been that way since... since second year, really, when you saved my life. I knew you'd come round, eventually. We were made for each other.

Love always,
Ginny

oOo

Draco didn't even have to ask - Harry left the letter on the kitchen table as he paced up and down the dining room of their flat.

"You know," he began. "Last time I got a letter from her - you said you had some whim or something. What was it?"

"Why do you ask? It was nothing, really, just a thought in passing."

"I'm curious, because something's been on my mind as well - and I wanted to know if we were thinking the same thing."

Both were reluctant to be the first to say it out loud. Draco bit his lip, avoiding Harry's gaze - looking everywhere but at the tall man now standing in front of him as he sat at the table.

Eventually, Harry plucked up enough Gryffindor courage to venture out into the open - "I think - I think I'm bent. I think that's why I left - why I didn't love her - romantically - anymore."

Draco breathed a sigh of relief at not having to be the one to say it. "I figured as much, you know."

"For how long?"

"A couple of weeks before I asked you all those questions-"

"That was nearly a month and a half ago. You've known something about me that I haven't known - for two months?"

He shrugged.

"You're far too observant."

"And you don't notice anything, really."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Draco didn't reply.

oOo

Dear Harry,

You're moving around a lot? Really? Funny, I could tell from the charm I put on Pig that you're staying in one place. I have your address - don't worry about it; I'm up for anything - even if it is a trash dumpster in the ghetto. You shouldn't worry about me so much, silly. I can handle more than you know.

Anyway, I've been preparing to take leave from work - and I'm coming to see you. We'll have two glorious weeks together, in Paris. I know how romantic you can be - especially there, I'm sure, of all places. Ten days, love! Ten days, and we shall be reunited! Maybe I'll even stick around for a while longer ;)

Love always,
Ginny

oOo

Harry groaned.

Draco chuckled.

"Why is my misery always so amusing to you?" he growled, frustrated. Striding up to the blond haired man, he attempted to snatch the letter. Malfoy raised his hand so that it was out of reach, and Harry, struggling still, ended up knocking them both to the floor, landing on top of Draco.

Their faces were inches apart - for all of two seconds, before Harry suddenly stood up, brushing off his jeans. "Er- sorry about that."

Draco wordlessly raised himself from the floor, sitting on his bed instead. "Forget about it." There was something different about his voice, Harry decided - what was it? Some emotion tinged it, an emotion Harry had never heard coming from Draco Malfoy - and he couldn't figure out what it was.

He watched as the blond folded up the parchment neatly, creasing it with his perfectly manicured fingernails - placing it on the bedside table with his slender, silken, fingers. He watched as Draco brushed a lock of deliciously blond hair from his smooth forehead, as he stood up, smoothing down his dress shirt and khakis-

"Don't you overheat in that thing?"

"No - anti-perspiration and cooling charms," Draco grinned.

Harry raised an eyebrow. The shirt was rather - becoming, even if long-sleeves and full pants were somewhat out-of-season. It showcased his lean, hard muscles - the contours of his body - his perfectly-shaped, slender neck.

Draco pretended not to notice that Harry was ogling him as he walked out the door, a small smirk on his face.

"Where are you going?"

"Bookstore," he waved, disappearing into the hallway.

Harry shook himself, as though waking from a reverie. What had he been thinking about? Oh, right. Draco Malfoy's body, nothing that unusual- what? The fact that he wasn't overly bothered by his daydreaming about Malfoy - it shocked him. That, coupled with the fact that he was now sure of his orientation - sent strange feelings through his body.

Did he have a - crush - on Draco Malfoy? The idea was absurd; unthinkable. And yet he'd just thought it, hadn't he?

oOo

Dear Harry,

Tomorrow! I'm leaving in exactly 24 hours, just so I'll be at your flat, ready for dinner, by 5, with all my things. This will be my last letter - not that I feel bad about it, or anything, because - oh, I'll be with you! I can just imagine your face when you see me - radiant, happy, joyful - four and a half months it's been, dearest.

I'll wait for a confirmation from you before I take off, but do send it quickly - not at your normal pace, please?

Love always,
Ginny

oOo

Bloody bird, bothering me while I read, thought Draco as he tried to finish the book he'd bought last week. He hadn't much time for reading, lately - too busy talking to Potter, discussing what to do when Ginny arrived tomorrow, buying groceries and new furniture together. They'd done that for the first time yesterday - shopping together. It was an interesting experience - Potter's frugality combined with Draco's expensive taste. Funny enough, he thought he'd get along just fine with the store brand of hummus Potter had forced him to take, despite his usual choice of organic hummus from the health food store.

The bird continued to tap at the window, and so he had no choice but to open it. Who would be writing to hi- oh. Ginny was coming tomorrow. Potter wasn't home yet - but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, right? And anyway, he had been bugging Draco for solutions, hadn't he? It all came to him in a flash, and he knew just what he had to do.

Taking a blank sheet of parchment, he wrote with his left-hand, trying to make his writing look as much like Potter's as possible.

Dear Ginny,

Don't come home first. I'd like to treat you to dinner before I bring you to my flat - since you're coming at mealtime, anyway. We can send your things to the flat as soon as you get here - or, if you'd like, use an Undetectable Extension Charm on your purse - I'm sure Hermione would know about those if you asked her.

There's a wonderful restaurant on the first floor of the Eiffel Tower - meet me there, and we'll share our evening together.

Looking forward to seeing you-

-Harry

There were a few inkblots - one by "my flat" - one by Hermione's name (there was a little scribble over a "G) - one by Harry's signature. He hoped she wouldn't notice them as he quickly sent Pigwidgeon off.

Realizing that if Potter saw the original letter from the Weasel, he might reply to it as well, Draco set himself another task. He had to do the job right, after all.

Taking his wand, he magically erased the last sentence of Ginny's letter, the line about responding for the sake of confirmation - and placed it on the desk where it would catch Potter's eye easily.

When Harry came home, it was to find Draco sipping black coffee, drumming those slender fingers of his on the desk. Next to - those fingers! - lay a piece of parchment.

"What does she say?"

"Hmm?"

"Ginny - she wrote," he nodded at the parchment.

"What makes you think I would read your letters, Potter? It is still in the envelope."

"Oh - I don't know - never mind." He looked ever so slightly crestfallen. Had he made a miscalculation? Picking up the letter, he scanned it quickly. "I need your help - really."

"I thought you didn't need it - you know, after you've spent the last ten days pacing and worrying and begging me to assist you. I would never have thought that you'd ask, you know."

"Quit the sarcasm, bastard."

Draco's eyebrow went up. "I'm not likely to help you if you call me bastard."

"Fine, sorry. Look - I hate to be awkward and all - but she's coming to the flat - how is she going to react to you being here? Especially when I tell her I'm gay - which I still haven't figured out how to do yet."

He said nothing.

"She's going to suspect - think - I don't know. What's going to be my explanation? She's not going to believe that we're not - together," he choked the words out with great difficulty.

Draco still kept his mouth shut tight, reading his book.

"You're a lot of help, gee, thanks."

"Quit the sarcasm, bastard."

If unhelpful, it did elicit a laugh from his roommate. "Wonderful. Now that you've decided to open your mouth - give me an idea, will you?"

"I'll leave," he said simply.

"You'll - what?"

"I'll - go back. To England. Or something. Take all my things. Move."

"That's not drastic."

"Quit the sar-"

"Okay, okay," he grinned. "I get it. Seriously, though - why would you just up and leave?"

The unspoken question lay in the air like an ugly monster that no one wanted to battle just yet: why he was even there in the first place?

"Because that's what you need." The message was simple, the tone commanding - but Harry swore he heard a tinge of that foreign emotion again.

Was it really what he needed? Was Ginny's visit so important that Draco had to leave, permanently? When had he even started thinking that Draco's sticking around even mattered? Why wasn't he worried about why Draco was there in the first place? Why was he so concerned with making sure the Malfoy heir didn't leave?

"Is it really what I need?" he asked quietly. "You - leaving?"

"Yes, well," Draco cleared his throat, hoping beyond hope that he'd done his calculations right, that his timing wasn't off. "If she's going to think you've been cheating on her with me because I'm living with you - she shouldn't believe what isn't true, right?"

"Maybe we should make it true, then," Harry growled, lunging forward to grab Draco by the shoulders and stand him up straight. In a moment, their lips met, their bodies flush against each other.

They were holding on to each other like last, fallen hopes - grasping at a second chance that may not even be there. This was it; this was everything Harry had ever wanted - needed - craved, desperately sought. He had been searching for this for years now - ever since he realized that being with Ginny felt wrong.

They pulled away, surfacing for air, gasping - panting.

"That," declared Harry, "is called good timing."

Draco smiled. "I'm still going to go," he said softly. "Not permanently, just leave the flat for a bit, and then come back."

Harry nodded. "That's probably the best idea," he agreed. "Best not to spring it all on her at once?"

"Mmm." He was staring at Harry's uncommonly attractive lips.

They laughed, drawing close for another kiss.

oOo

Dear Hermione,

I must say - meeting Draco instead of Harry at the Eiffel Tower was a bit of a shock. He explained that he'd convinced Harry to make a homemade meal instead, and that he'd been sent him to bring me home. We talked - a lot - on the way back, taking the muggle bus. Mostly about Harry. He said a lot of things, you know- that I would never have noticed about Harry. His taste in books, and music, and how it reflect who he really is. The way he shops (I'm afraid his frugality is my fault) - his haphazard nature, disorganization - the way he'll drop everything at a moment's notice if those he cares about are in danger. Draco made me realize - that maybe Harry and I weren't as close as I'd thought we were. I was confused, though - how did Draco even get there? Get to know him so well, better than me?

He neglected to mention that they were living together - though I kind of began to suspect during the course of our conversation en route to the flat.

And then - Harry! In all his messy-haired, green-eyed glory. I don't think I have ever loved him more than I did then, standing in his doorway. I think he and Draco had some conversation at this point, in the kitchen, but I was too busy making sure everything had come in properly and all.

Dinner was delicious - I suspect Draco had more of a hand in it that he'd like to admit. I can't see Harry being a good cook - then again, there was a lot I had never really known, wasn't there?

And then - oh, wait for it, Hermione - he broke his news to me. And everything made sense, you know? He's not straight. He left because - he needed to figure things out, he said. I don't know if he has yet - but good god, Hermione - Malfoy looks like he's practically ready to pop the question. And Harry is completely oblivious. Someone ought to wave a red flag in front of his face and get his attention, really.

I've been spending most of my time outside the flat - sometimes alone, sometimes with Harry, or Draco, or both. I feel like I'm intruding on them; it's so ridiculously awkward when I catch Draco staring across the room at Harry - or intercept the look he gives him when pouring him water at the dining table - they live in this perfect world, and I have no place in it. I want no place in it.

Malfoy really ought to hate me. I think I should leave earlier than planned - Paris is a beautiful, beautiful city, though. Do come visit at some point or another, though I don't suggest staying with these two soon-to-be lovebirds.

Harry really is being thick about the whole thing. Perhaps you ought to talk to him about it.

Love,
Ginny

oOo

Dear Hermione,

It's almost my last night here - and guess what? I just had to tell you - I know you'll understand the significance - I caught them holding hands as they were walking behind me! They thought I wouldn't notice or something? I don't know.

I still think Harry's being somewhat thick about it, though. Or maybe I'm just not willing to forgive him for running away from me like he did. Merlin knows what goes on in that man's head - actually, scratch that. I think Draco Malfoy knows.

I'll be home soon enough.

Love,
Ginny

oOo

Pigwidgeon tapped at the window.

"It's that blasted owl," Draco grumbled. "I'll get it as soon as I finish pouring the milk into your coffee."

"Sure," Harry nodded absentmindedly. He was slightly preoccupied with watching the way Draco gripped the milk jug - those fingers!

Taking the envelope from the bird, he scanned the parchment inside. "Here," he said, snorting. "Should find it amusing."

It wasn't a letter - it was a newspaper clipping - under the Daily Prophet's section of Community Announcements.

Harry scanned the paper. So Ginny was to marry Blaise Zabini after all. Merlin knew it had taken her long enough - three years? Maybe he could convince Draco to go to the wedding with him.

His partner sat down beside him, their fingers brushing slightly as he set the coffee cup down in front of Harry.

On an impulse, he seized Draco's hand, clutching it firmly in his own.

Draco merely sipped his coffee - black, always black - with a small smile on his lips, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "Oh, Harry."