Title: The Well 20/?
Author: eidheann
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~1,000 (~15,500 total)
Summary: Where there is a wish...
Warnings: angst.
A/N: Many thanks for the comments and support.

The chime of the mantle clock ringing noon startled Draco from his staring into the flames. He hadn't made a decision, and he simply sat for a moment, debating remaining there and not going to the Leaky at all. He knew he couldn't do that, it was too similar to discovering one's lover was moving to Romania by walking in on him packing. The temptation was there, however, and he grimaced at the sudden burst of understanding sympathy he had for Harry taking what he felt was the easy way out. However, he still found himself staring at the clock, watching the minute hand tick two, three, four minutes after the hour before he pushed himself up and snagged a handful of powder for the floo.

Unlike their previous Friday at the Leaky, this time it was full to bursting with witches and wizards, many wearing Ministry seals on their robes, eating and drinking and laughing and talking. He was surrounded by the usual lull in conversation as those nearest the fire noted his appearance, frowning at him, before obviously turning away to ignore his presence. It spread through the main room like a wave, and caught Harry's attention where he had been fidgeting with a mug at a table in the corner. His face lit up in relief and he waved, and Draco's stomach twisted in nerves even as he returned the smile in spite of himself.

He picked his way across the room, holding his robes close in case any of the glares decided to follow up with accidental spills or hexes. Taking the seat across from Harry, he offered a faint smile. "Rather courageous, even for a Gryffindor, taking lunch at the Leaky with a former Death Eater in the midst of the Ministry lunch rush. This can't be good for your reputation." His words were slightly above normal level, and the witches at the next table who had been glaring at him quite openly flushed and busied themselves with their plates when Harry turned to level his own glare at them.

"I don't care. I believe I'm quite capable of choosing who I have lunch with." Harry turned his attention to Draco, the intensity making him squirm slightly. "As I think I've said before, making things secret just make them something you can't live with."

Draco gave a faint nod, but was relieved when two bowls of stew were levitated onto the table between them, and avoided responding. He quickly took a bite of the too-hot stew and hissed at the burn to his tongue. Harry snickered quietly and twitched his wand, causing the sound of conversation around them to move to a faint buzz. "Muffliato, Potter? I thought you were living out in the open without secrets."

"Just because I am doesn't mean everyone is..." Harry grinned at Draco and took a bite of his own stew. "Besides, there's a difference between keeping secrets and making sure random passersby are minding their own business."

Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry over his spoon. "And sitting down to lunch in the middle of the most crowded pub on Diagon Alley in the middle of the Ministry lunch hour with a Muffliato up isn't the type of thing that just screams 'I have a secret'? Even ignoring the fact that the people eating together are the most loved and most hated men of our generation, you can't be that dim." He let his spoon drop back into the bowl, and took a breath to try and calm the frustration leaking into his voice. When he continued, he sounded tired instead. "You have to know this won't work, not in the long term. They hate me just as much as they love you."

"Who?"

"Everyone! If you so much as smiled at me right now, the people watching and the people pretending to not be watching would have me at wand point checking you for Imperius before you could blink. Your Weasley's all hate me, your Gryffindor friends all hate me. The entirety of Wizarding Britain hates me. They are never going to forget the war, or that I was marked. They will never forgive you for tarnishing yourself with me."

Harry simply sat in silence a moment, watching Draco with a sad expression. "Is that your answer, then? You love me too much to tarnish me with your presence? Is that really what you think of me? Of us?"

"Yes- No- I don't know. You don't know, Harry. You don't know what it's like. Nobody forgets, or forgives. I love you, but I don't want you facing the kind of shite I know you will if you try to take this thing out in the open."

Harry leaned forward over the table, his stew forgotten. "Why are you still here then? I know you're training in France, and your mother left... Why stay?"

He shook his head. "This is my home. I would train in England if I could find a Potion's Master willing to take someone with the Mark. I can't leave-"

"So you're willing to fight to stay in England but not willing to fight to stay with me?" Harry's eyes were full of challenge.

"I don't know! I'm scared. I'm scared that they'll hate me even more, hate you, and we'll fuck this thing up again anyway. That I'll have to leave. That you'll leave me again and I'll be alone. I don't know what to do."

Harry's voice dropped to barely above a whisper, forcing Draco to quiet his breathing to hear. "Draco, you can't predict the future with this. But you can't continue to live based on fear of other peoples' reactions. You told Pansy we were worth it, and you care about her. You can't let people you don't even know have control over your decisions like that. You're not hurting them, for Merlin sakes. And... I took your choice away last year when I left without telling you what I was thinking. Please, I know it's a lot to ask, but don't do the same to me. Let me prove I love you. Let me prove I don't care what anyone says, and I'll protect you or support you as needed. Please let me do this."

Draco simply sat watching him for a moment before his mouth opened and the words tumbled out before he had the chance to think. "Pansy's wedding is next Friday. Come with me."