Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
A/n: Sorry for being so late in updating, I've been busy and lazy, but mostly lazy. Cheers to The Brigg in HB, that inspired the club that Harry and Draco go to on their date. Questions? Concerns? Tell me about it! And thanks again for the stellar reviews.
Thanks Amazonia for giving me the installation idea without knowing you did. To: BratPrincess-187, for her brilliant mind.
A Few Responses: twilight: even if that's all you said, I still updated! ...: I'm updating, I am, thanks for reviewing! Next time leave your name so you can get props in the response box. Togu: Chapter twenty-three will bring Riddle back into the picture. And you can get to know that wonderfully horrible man. I love him. Randomfandomreader: aw, you've fallen for Harry (who hasn't), and your love of vegans is awesome. Thanks so much for the fabulous review, and rabid fangirl huh? I'm blushing. Mercury: really? Wow. And thank you! Holy crap you guys astound me. Pallu: You find your Harry and Draco Pallu, just make sure their not doing each other or the bed will be pretty crowded. Lily: thank you, and sorry for the wait. Maya: Thank you! Riddle will be explained, no worries.
The Loft
Chapter Twenty-One
Head Over Heels
The only lights that lit up the street were from the cars ahead of him. A long stream of flashing red made up the traffic as he drove, in slow bursts of speed, down the lively road. His hands twisted around the steering wheel, and a cool breeze blew his blond bangs across his face. Draco clenched his eyes closed and continued to drive as best he could under certain emotional circumstances. The steady pulsing about his eyebrow was annoying him greatly, and the traffic didn't improve his temper much either.
A car in front of him stopped suddenly, and he nearly avoided a collision. He sat back in his seat and sighed. Mind and body both feeling worn, he looked around his motionless car helplessly as the traffic stopped all together. He didn't acknowledge the yelling the drivers, and hid his head in his hands.
Dealing with Pansy was always somewhat of a hassle, but their last encounter was possibly the worst he'd ever had. The more optimistic part about their fight: it was likely that he would never speak with her again. She had been outraged by the papers that had been published the next morning, which had made Draco out to be a man suffering from repressed love, and Pansy the evil 'arranged' bride. It had been humiliating for her, Draco could concede, though he had made the mistake of saying that it had been rather embarrassing for himself as well.
Surprisingly enough, the 'Draco Malfoy is gay' bit was completely bypassed in favor of going after their failed relationship, and the fact that Pansy was an absolute witch. It hurt her more than it had Draco, and for that he was slightly remorseful. Slightly. Draco had therefore gone to Pansy's apartment that morning, intent on straightening out their relationship for the better. What he had gotten was an earful of accusations and tears.
He had never seen cold-hearted, malicious, untouchable, Pansy Parkinson cry. The moment he'd stuttered out, "Pansy, I'm sorry..." she had gone into hysterics. Draco had told himself that her tears weren't real, but the force of her great sobs made him unfortunately realize that her heartache was genuine. Well shit, he'd cursed, and then tried to comfort her, but she had flinched away from him. It had hurt, as all of his breakups eventually did, and Draco found he was truly sorry.
Not once, during the entire debacle, however, did he think he had made a mistake. Pansy was a beautiful woman, as was she clever and cunning. Her slightly disparaging attributes included: ugly sarcasm, mean spirited cruelty, and her general happiness in being undyingly superior. Sure, Draco admired someone with confidence, but Pansy Parkinson had enough ego for both of them.
When she had started to cry, so abruptly, Draco hadn't known what to do or what to say. Part of the reason he didn't date women was the fact that they were prone to being highly emotional. Not that men weren't either. He, himself, liked to have a good yell when his own frustration had reached its boiling point. Pansy's tears had been so upsetting that Draco wondered for a moment if he'd gone soft, before he realized that his concern wasn't a crime.
For all of her horrible characteristics, Pansy Parkinson was still a person. A person he'd grown up with and bonded to in a sort of way that made them half-friends. She was a constant that he was sad to see going, and all because he hadn't ever loved her. But she had loved him, as evident as it was with her honest pain. She had sincerely loved him.
Draco rolled up his window and adjusted the radio. Ice still coated the sidewalks and street lights, though the snow had stopped. The roads were no longer slippery, and his mind subconsciously stopped worrying about driving in the frost. He pulled forward a bit as they started to move, and rubbed his temple with one hand-his thoughts tumultuous and guilt-ridden.
He had yet to talk to his father, but he just knew there would be disappointment on that end of the line as well. He wondered when all of his decisions had become so wrong. He wondered why being with Harry was so bad. In comparison to Harry, well, Pansy just didn't compare. They were so different, and each had warming endearments (Pansy not so much) but either way, Draco had found the decision between them hard. He wanted to know why he couldn't be normal, and not the famous heir to a billion-dollar corporation.
Never daring to even think about that, he was suddenly taken back by the magnitude of his thoughts. Did he really want to take over Madison and David? He hadn't wanted to get married, and that had ended, however disastrously. He had gotten out and rented a loft, lived on his own and made new friends. Friends with people, until very recently, he would have never even considered associating with. Draco was thinking, for the first time in his life, of just saying no to whatever it was his father wanted him to be.
His resolve was shoved aside in favor of the heavy shame that still rolled around his chest. He had left Pansy still crying, after she had called a friend to come over. It had been an ending, because the moment she'd shut her apartment door he'd known he could never go back. There would be no 'just friends' between them, and for that Draco was immensely sorry. He'd never really thought about having lots of friends before, because his playmates as a kid had consisted of Blaise, and well, Blaise. Now, after getting to know Remus, Harry, Dennis, Hermione, hell, even Mrs. Sprout-he couldn't seem to get enough of them.
Pansy was a bitch, but as friends, it would have been amusing to have seen her being a bitch to everyone else. Draco sighed heavily, scolding himself for his own maddening thoughts. She had looked rather lovely all blotched with her mascara askew and her hair down and wavy. He would miss looking at her. Though...the word beautiful brought two faces in mind, and Harry's visage was as clear as day.
Harry. He closed his eyes and smirked. Harry, the artist who had stolen his stupid heart and replaced it with an open canvas. His very own vegan and earth child activist. The two of them were complete opposites, and yet they worked so well together even at the worst of times. Harry was the most infuriating person he'd ever met...the most attractive guy he'd ever set his eyes upon, and in general...he was everything Draco was looking for.
He'd found himself, only a day ago, looking at the date in wonder. Had he only been living in the loft for four months? In that time he'd completely changed, he'd taken a few steps forward, a few back, and then fallen in love. It took a lifetime for some people to find their Harry, and Draco had done it in four agonizingly frustrating months. Dealing with soy, paint everywhere, loud acid rock in the mornings, untamed ebony hair, and god knows what else Harry said or did. Four months, and he was utterly enamored.
Draco wondered if the feeling was mutual, but that was a rather depressing thing to think about. Pansy had given him a bit of hope, at least.
"You're wonderful, and sweet, and I-I can't stand that I love you, but you don't love me. It always happens this way. People love you, but you don't know...y-you're such an idiot!" She'd screamed at him through great eruptions of tears. She'd also called him an, "...egotistical mother fucker..." and told him to get his head out of his ass. Well, so much for confidence.
Either way, he figured even if Harry wasn't serious about their newly-formed relationship, he would still take all he could get from the elusive Mr. Potter. A thought that only proved just how much Draco had changed. He was much more open to things, and was less sheltered than he had used to be.
All thanks to Blaise, really.Now, that was something he didn't want to think about. He could just hear his best friend's maniacal laughter as he moved a Draco-like pawn in front of a Harry-shaped queen. Thank god, Draco suddenly thought, alarmed, Blaise can't even play Chutes and Ladders.
"Fucking come on," Draco muttered to the immobile traffic. Ahead of him, he could see the outline of a person having a similar breakdown in their car, though banging his head on the dashboard didn't seem like something Draco would do. No matter how many Pansy fights he'd been in.
He snapped his head over to the window, looking out at a few loitering people in front of a bar. Yeah, no more Pansy fights. He grinned. Yeah, no more shopping for wedding crap. Yeah, no more being tied down like a sacrifice to Pansy fucking Parkinson. Hell, he was a free man. Free to say what he wanted and do what he wanted. And he wanted to do Harry. Well...maybe not in such crude language, but yeah.
Draco nodded enthusiastically to himself, having reached a long awaited epiphany, and turned up the radio and rolled down his window. Life was good, what the hell was he moping about? He was free, and he was healthy. He was even rich! He started singing along with the song blaring on the radio, feeling as if he could take on the world. So what if the guilt was still there? Better to stop a marriage that would ruin two lives than let it happen and have regrets as well. Regrets sucked. Life was good.
"Yeah!" He burst out unexpectedly. The loiterers looked at him for a moment, before raising their bottles and hollering as well. "Yeah!"
He shook his head at himself. He must be absolutely mad, but it felt good to be crazy once and a while. Was this how Harry felt?
Feeling suddenly fabulous, Draco flipped open his cell phone and dialed Blaise's number. He'd never really called Blaise voluntarily before, but he'd just had such an amazing insight into his life, that he felt it was an appropriate time for disclosure.
Blaise answered the phone the same way he always answered the phone, and 'happy' Draco appreciated his charming demeanor.
"What?"
"Blaise!" Draco chirped, and there was a shocked silence from the other end. "Draco Malfoy, is this the Draco Malfoy?"
"Of course it is, Blaise, shut up for a second and listen..."
"I saw you in the paper! Well you're always in the paper...but this time was especially special, do you know why Draco, darling?"
"Yes, I know, Harry and I..."
There was screaming and yelling on the other end of the phone, and Draco moved the phone away from his ear. The traffic moved a teensy bit, and he juggled with his phone and the wheel. "Blaise," he tried over the noise. "Blaise!"
"Yeah, I was just telling Hermione the stellar news."
"Did you just say stellar?"
"Yeah, I've decided your goddaughter's name will be stellar."
"Quit saying that, and what's this about a goddaughter?"
"Metaphorically speaking, of course. His and/or her name will be stellar."
"Yes, sure, I'm positive their names will be fantastic," he said quickly. Blaise sighed heavily into his ear, and he could hear Hermione speaking softly in the background.
"No, no. His and/or her name will be Stellar. We'll call the guy just regular old Stellar, and the girl, Stella! It's fucking genius, isn't it?"
"I'm not naming my children after an astral body!" Hermione, Draco thought, sounded slightly miffed.
"Who says I'm having Stellar slash Stella with you?"
"Blaise!" Draco and Hermione both said, and there was his best friend's malicious laughter once again.
"Listen," he tried again. "I've come to a conclusion!"
"Eh, eh, Hermione. Draco says he's come to a conclusion!"
Draco rolled his eyes, and nearly hollered out loud in relief when the traffic dissipated as the street branched off. He briefly looked at the accident that had held them all up, and turned away. The three cars had gotten into a rather nasty pile up, and Draco glared at the offending automobiles.
"Draco? Draco!"
"Oh, yeah. Hey, I went to Pansy's..."
"What happened?"
"We're completely over now, there's no wedding..." did that sound a bit too gleeful? He frowned, "She was really upset, Blaise."
"Who the fuck cares! No more Pansy! No more Pansy!"
Whether Hermione had taken the phone away from, her boyfriend, or had gone to another room and picked up the other end, Draco didn't know, but suddenly he was talking to a very excited Ms. Granger.
"Oh, Draco, really?"
"Hey. Yeah. What happened to Blaise?"
"He's skanking on top of the kitchen counter."
"Tell him not to fall..."
There was a pause. "Already did."
"Anyway, yeah, it's officially over. She gave me the ring back and everything."
"Did you take it?"
"No, of course not. It was tailored to fit her, and it was more of a gift than anything. I wouldn't ask for it back."
He could almost hear Hermione bite her lip anxiously, even though it was more his imagination that anything. "That was good, on your part." She finally commented.
Draco merged onto the thruway and started to head home. "Doesn't mean I'm not upset...but I did have a sort of epiphany."
"What's an epiphany?" Blaise's voice trailed into their conversation, and Hermione huffed. "You're on speaker now, Draco. Blaise, go look it up. I can't believe you graduated from high school."
"I can't believe you graduated from high school," he mocked her.
Rolling his eyes, Draco tried for what must have been the hundredth time. "I think that life's finally okay for me now."
"That's great Draco!" Hermione said excitedly. "It's Harry, isn't it?"
Hardly the sentimental 'confessions' type of guy, Draco was very apprehensive about admitting that to anyone other than himself, so he said, "That, and partially because I've never gone against my father on anything before. It feels great."
"You're such a rebel Draco!" Blaise teased.
"Harry's taking me out tomorrow night, I think we're going dancing."
"Ooh, you should so tango. Better yet, go to a redneck salsa club so you scandalize people..."
"Do they have redneck salsa clubs?" Hermione asked Blaise disbelievingly.
"Yes, yes they do!"
"You're full of crap Blaise. There's no salsa dancing. I don't even think Harry's into salsa," Draco snapped.
"Harry likes what I like!" Blaise provided, and Hermione sighed. "Well, you know, not the whole vagina thing..."
"I just wanted to call and tell you it was over, and that I felt fantastic," Draco said quickly. "I'll call you both tomorrow."
"And tell us about the date, right?" Hermione prompted.
"Yeah, sure."
"Remember to pick up some form of lubricant on the way home!" He heard just before he snapped his phone shut. Draco shook his head fondly, and got off of the highway.
He was considerably happier than earlier, though the twinge of guilt was still there, and would be every time he envisioned Pansy's tears, though he did feel better. He was content for one of the first times in his life. He grinned as he drove, and eventually pulled up to the shop. There was a dim light on in front of Customer-de-lis and Draco acknowledged the kind gesture as one from Remus; who expected Draco would be home soon.
Parking his car in the garage around the back, he locked up and noticed that a smile seemed to be permanently fixed on his face. He didn't even bother to wipe it off as he entered the shop. Remus was still awake, and cradling a cup of hot chocolate as he digested a paperback. He looked up when Draco came in.
"You're back late," Remus commented mildly.
"Yeah, traffic was murder. Where's the artist?"
"Upstairs." He marked his place in his book, and grinned. "I don't think he's asleep." Remus observed him for a moment. "What's with the smile?"
Draco frowned. "I'm not allowed to smile?"
"Don't get so defensive."
"I'm not def-oh, yeah, shut up."
Remus laughed lightly. "Got you. Anyway, what's got you into a good mood?"
"I might as well tell you, huh?" Draco said more to himself than Remus. "Yeah, well, I've just realized that I'm finally free of my arranged marriage, and that I'm happy for once in my tragically unsatisfactory life."
Remus raised his eyebrows. "Sounds like daytime television, but yeah, that's great."
"I'm just-feeling good. I feel like I could do anything I wanted and there wouldn't be any consequences. Call me cocky, but it's honest, and well, I'm allowed to be egotistical because I'm a Malfoy, of course..."
"Draco..." Remus stopped him and smiled. "I'd say you were in love."
"What?!"
"Madly, completely, head over heels in love." Draco stared as he nodded enthusiastically. "This is hilarious."
Draco threw his hands in the air. "I was just explaining my revelation, and you psychoanalyze me and say I'm in love."
"Well, aren't you?" Remus asked smartly.
"No."
"Right. But you know, Draco, I think Harry loves you as well. That's hard for him, you should realize. He's quite distressed."
"I don't care if he's distressed," Draco marched toward the stairs, scowling. "And if he's in love with me, I'm not surprised, I am devastatingly attractive..."
He stomped upstairs, missing Remus' muttered, "And I didn't think he could get any more arrogant."
When Draco reached the door to the loft, his ego deflated a little bit. Seeing Harry after such thought wrenching revelations seemed difficult all of the sudden. What if something happened and all hope was lost? That was how it worked, wasn't it? Rejection. Always a possibility.
Draco creased his eyebrows and shook his head. Opening the door was easy enough, though he was surprised when he walked inside, that Harry was nowhere to be seen.
Confused, he plopped his keys down on the counter and loosened his tie. Harry's mattress was rumpled with blankets and books and such, and a finished canvas was propped up next to the refrigerator. What caught his eye immediately, however, was the still-wet square, painted on the wall facing the stairs to the roof. It was simply a patch of white paint, and below it there was a tarp laid out and a newly washed roller.
He wondered at it for a moment, before looking around to see if Harry had meandered into his own room, until Draco noticed that the ladder up to the roof was down, and made for that instead.
The air was cold and it stung his face when he reached the top. As he had expected, Harry sat in a chair facing the outside world, with his eyes closed and his body slung over the deck chair. The sight was rather sweet, with that lanky body (covered in paint) flopped all about. A blanket was spread haphazardly across Harry's body, and his hair moved back and forth with the breeze.
Draco stepped forward, and winced a bit at the tapping his shoes made. Harry's eyes fluttered open, and he scrunched his body into sitting position, pulling the blanket closer to his body.
"Hey." Harry greeted him drowsily. Draco smirked.
"You know, it's cold up here."
"I'm looking at the stars, dimwit." Harry said affectionately, gazing up. "Did you know that it takes thousands of light years for a star's light to reach us? So those are the stars from thousands of years ago..."
Draco tried to wrap his head around that, but was distracted. "Blaise wants to name his kid Stella."
Harry gave him a very alarmed glance. "I hope not. No one will take him or her seriously."
"Any kid of Blaise's won't be taken seriously," Draco folded himself in a chair next to Harry and smiled. "In fact, I think it's better if Blaise doesn't procreate at all..."
Laughing, Harry nodded in agreement.
They fell into a peaceful silence, and Draco leaned his head back to look at the sky. If what Harry said was true (not that he doubted the crazy ass vegan) then those stars were actually the stars from thousands of years ago. And the stars that those thousand-year-old people were looking at were from thousands of years ago as well. It made him sort of understand the word 'infinity' and think about the vastness of the universe.
Naturally, that lead to deeper thoughts, that most people chose not to think about because it was so entirely complex. The sky, to him, looked as if someone had wrapped the earth in a huge black blanket and poked little holes into it. He smiled.
"Pansy and I broke up. For good."
Harry was silent, and Draco turned to look at him. Beryl eyes that seemed endlessly bright, even in the darkness up on the roof, stared at him nervously. Those eyes squeezed shut, and Harry looked away. Their silence was now so intense that Draco felt his chest seize up in pain, and he was suddenly on his feet.
He walked over to the edge of the roof and looked down, where street lights lined the road, and cars were parked and still. Draco would not be rejected. He feared it would happen, and it would not be so. Not with Harry. This was real.
Confidence came to him from seemingly nowhere, and he walked up to Harry's chair and leaned down. Surprised lips gasped open beneath him, but neither were inclined to pull away. Draco placed his hands on Harry's shoulders and awkwardly moved forward. He tilted his head to the side, a motion that suggested deeper contact, and kissed Harry thoroughly.
The pain and tension disappeared when Harry started to kiss back. A hand came up to hold onto his cheek, and he felt Harry's arms reach around his neck and push them closer.
Falling asleep on the roof was something Draco would usually find strange. A lot of things Draco used to find odd and simply unacceptable, were no longer quite so bad. Even when he awoke in the morning with Harry's leg slung over his, as they both lounged in the deck chairs that had been moved impossibly close, he felt no immediate alarm.
The blanket that they had shared had kept them warm, and the air was crisp and cool. The greatest thing about sleeping on the roof (despite waking up to a brilliant sunrise) was the likely chance that Harry would be sleeping up there as well.
The cement thrummed beneath their feet with the force of the loud music. Draco pushed his jacket closer to his body and breathed in the chill. He and Harry waited patiently behind people dressed in charcoal black. He fidgeted in the clothes he was wearing, since he had insisted he know what to dress as, and in answer, Harry had given him clothes to wear. The jeans were a bit small, but Harry assured him that it was the way they were worn.
His hair had been slicked back nicely, and the black blazer and white shirt he was wearing clashed terribly with the denim. His shoes were matched well, however, and he found himself looking at them now and again, and then turning away, because Harry had given him red socks to wear. Otherwise, he'd thought that he looked ridiculous.
When they had arrived, however, he had blended in perfectly. Harry didn't change anything about what he was wearing, much to Draco's consternation, and he still looked like he belonged. With his paint smeared jacket and simple black tee-shirt with Converse, Harry looked fabulous even in exactly the same sort of clothes he wore every day. Or maybe Draco was just in love.
The line moved up slightly, and he and Harry stepped forward. He gazed at the hair in front of him with raised eyebrows; it was a person, but the person's hair towered way past Draco's height, while the man was extremely small. Harry had just barely stopped him from touching it, and for that he was grateful. It looked sort of greasy.
The music inside The Brigg, suddenly grew so intense that Draco could see the cigarette butts beside him vibrating. He frowned and looked around, alarmed.
"What are they doing in there?" He inched toward the doors curiously, and Harry grabbed his jacket and pulled him back. The bouncer in a bright yellow jacket scowled, and Harry smiled charmingly.
"It's a sort of dance club, Draco." Harry whispered to him, and they settled back in line. Draco craned his neck over the people in front them, but could hardly see anything, thanks to the guy with the hair.
"Why is it so loud?"
Harry grinned. "Because it's not like Pearl."
"I noticed," Draco said, scowling. "This place is in a warehouse. It can't be sanitary."
A few girls behind them were staring at them, and Harry tugged on Draco's arm. "You'll have fun, and I'll show you how to dance."
"I know how to dance," he objected, offended.
"Not the way they do it in here." They moved forward and the lethal looking bouncer wrapped a tag around their wrists. "Just don't get socked in the face."
"What?!" Draco yelled, and then chased after Harry and into the warehouse.
They walked down a hall tagged with insignia and random splashes of paint. Neon green lights lit the floor as they followed the 'hair guy' down into the club. Harry clasped his hand and lead him along, and he felt a smirk make its way onto his face...despite his fear. When would he get socked in the face?
A blast of music assaulted his ears when they arrived in the room. Draco wondered about the weight capacity in the room, since there was so many people squished together and...jumping. Harry smiled at him and lead the way over to the bar. His eyes widened as he caught sight of the bartender, a girl who wasn't wearing much, and had numerous holes in her eyebrows, nose, and lip. Harry nudged him with his elbow and asked him what he wanted.
When they got their drinks, the band had just ended and Draco took advantage of the silence. "What was with her?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" Harry frowned at his drink, and then looked up. "Oh, you mean her appearance. I don't know. They're crazy. We're just here to dance. I think she gave me water."
Draco and Harry walked over to the floor in front of the stage, and waited with the other clamoring bystanders. Draco swallowed down his drink nervously and placed the empty cup on a table next to where they were standing. Harry, noticing that he seemed anxious, wrapped his own hand with Draco's. The act was enough to make the blond swoon, and he grinned back at his boyfriend.
Well hell, they both thought as the next band came out, and Harry gestured them over to a corner. There, he taught Draco the art of slamming. It didn't seem that complicated really, all he had to do was swing his arms around while doing an odd version of the running man in between fast and furious kicks. There was a lot of leg movement, and head bobbing, but the true art (Harry told him) was the fact that it let out any inner aggression he had inside.
"You don't have to know how to dance to slam...just move. There'll be a jackass who won't like you being in his territory, so all you have to do is..." Harry swung his arm around enthusiastically, and motioned as if he'd obliviously hit something behind him. "Knock him right in the face, and you'll have a circle clear...then you do this..."
Draco had never laughed so hard in his life when Harry started dancing. He had seen Blaise dance like it before, but he had never realized it was actually considered a dance. Harry did look good while he was doing it, though, and he was a rather fabulous dancer. If they were still in the 1980's of course.
When the band began to play, it was such upbeat and happy music, that no matter who he was or how badly he danced...he just had to move. Draco was immensely proud of himself when he'd managed to stick with Harry as they ran around with the crowd. It was hilarious to both of them, and they barely contained their hysterical laughter as they watched the hair guy cut circles into the floor.
At one point, just as Harry had said, one guy tried to shimmy right into his area. Draco thought for a moment, and then decided to try out the move that Harry had shown him. He put one foot in front of him, bent it a little, put his head down and clenched his hand into a fist. He got the guy in the face with one swing, that eventually evolved into a side step.
He was so excited that he forgot about the guy with the now bloody nose and hopped over to Harry. "I got him right in the face!"
Harry smiled, but it slid off his face comically as he looked at the guy Draco had pummeled. Draco looked as well, and nearly died. They hightailed it out of there, the large and deadly looking crazy person hot on their heels. Draco pushed at Harry's jacket as Harry hopped over the chord that barred them from the outside. They ran down the street, laughing, and eventually stopped.
Draco glanced at Harry, panting, his eyes bright and gleeful. He had never had so much fun in his life. He'd never smashed in someone's face before, and he'd never danced so well. He felt fabulous, and Harry was giving him that look. That look that suggested that he'd done well.
"Some date," he commented.
Harry's smile vanished, and he breathed in deeply. "Sorry about that. They really are crazy in there."
"I loved it," Draco said briskly, and Harry looked at him disbelievingly. "No really, it was great. I've never had that much fun."
The smile, that smile, lit up Harry's face. "Let's get some coffee, yeah?"
They walked down the street, their hands clasped, as cars moved passed them in silent acceptance. Calm now, after their little jaunt out among the rockers, strolling quietly to nowhere seemed like the best moment Draco had ever experienced. The cold on his cheeks reminded him that his hands were warm (because Harry was holding one of them) and he planted a smirk on his face and glanced at Harry, who blushed. An almost overcoming urge to hug the artist suddenly enveloped him.
He had never been one to appreciate physical contact, and he always thought that he would have to find the perfect person to properly experience it with. Harry was rather perfect, so that would explain his incredible want to simply touch. And nothing sexual either...the act of touching someone out of pure need was something Draco hadn't believed in, until right then. Perhaps it was affection. Perhaps Draco was in love.
Harry pointed out a café and Draco nodded. He smoothed down his blazer and smiled for a second at his ridiculous clothing. Harry had assured him that he looked great, and that had been enough reassurance by far. They walked into the café and sat down underneath the heater. Two coffees later and a request for soy cream, and they were finally thawed.
"Did you see the paper this morning, anyway?" Draco asked companionably as he fixed his beverage. Harry raised an eyebrow.
"No. Is that why you left so early?"
Draco nodded. "It was all about you, Pansy and I, and our sordid affair."
Harry choked on his drink, and coughed. "We were in the paper. Me?"
"You?" He smiled. "Well yeah, Potter. Didn't you notice all of those reporters swarming around us on New Years?"
"Oh, shit."
Frowning, Draco asked, "Your picture wasn't in it...they mostly focused on Pansy and I. Does being in the paper bother you that much?"
Draco was fearful of the answer. Harry being upset about the media was bad, because Draco would always be followed around. He would have to deal with it for the rest of his life, most likely, and if Harry couldn't handle that...then there would be no 'rest of his life' and 'Harry' in the same sentence. The thought scared him more than he would like to admit.
"No," Harry, thankfully said. "I'm just not fond of being out there for everyone to see..." he seemed to ponder for a moment. "But I'll deal with it...I know you can't help it and I won't stop seeing you just because we're being followed by vulturous meat eaters."
Relieved, Draco smirked. "Come on, Potter. You don't know that they aren't vegans."
"Oh yes," Harry scrunched his eyebrows together. "I'm generalizing, aren't I?"
"Stereotyping, assuming...all of the above."
"Everyone does it, so I don't see how it matters." Harry took a sip of his coffee, and Draco wrapped his hands more firmly around his own cup. "How are Remus and Severus, anyway?"
Subject change! Draco's mind flashed at him. He acknowledged Harry's worry about the press deftly, and dived into the subject of his godfather and his boyfriend. Apparently, they were getting on splendidly, and Harry mentioned that they were definitely fond of each other. Remus seemed happier, according to Harry, and Severus would often come by the shop to simply have lunch with the botanist.
"He's going back to Kenya for a few weeks," Draco said placidly. "Does Remus know?"
"Yeah, he knows, and it's all gushy every time they see each other now..." Harry scrunched up his nose in mocking disgust.
"You like it..." Draco teased. "You're a pacifist. Peace, love, and harmony rock your world."
"Peace, love, and harmony?" Harry laughed. "Don't say that to Blaise, he'll think they're names for his children. Like Stella..."
"Oh, that was hilarious..."
Draco told him about their phone conversation, and they both agreed that Blaise was completely insane. The night dragged on, and they enjoyed another cup of coffee together as they talked. Harry explained the white paint with a smile on his face.
"I'm making a mural, and taping it. It's called an installation. It's going to be in my next show."
The idea made Draco smile, and seemed so completely Harry-like that he instantly approved. Harry had no idea what he was going to paint, and had explained that he really didn't need to know. He usually saw what he painted one at a time, or so he had elaborated, and his art was usually created by his mood. Draco tried to understand it, just like he tried to understand light years.
It went over his head, and even though he felt ignorant for not understanding...acceptance was enough. He looked at Harry, sitting across from him, talking enthusiastically about his upcoming art show, and finally knew the honest truth.
They walked back to the car, and Draco stole Harry's words away with a kiss. The touch of soft lips underneath his own was electrifying, and he pulled away with a grin. Harry blushed, and he put the car in drive. Tonight, he would sleep with Harry on his lumpy and uncomfortable mattress, because if anything, it would be warmer.