"You'll have to hold on tight and close your eyes," Harry urged. Draco gave him a dubious look, but stepped closer.

"What exactly shall I hold onto?"

Harry blushed and held out his arms. "Just to warn you, this might feel a bit…funny."

"Funny?" Draco questioned worriedly as he gripped Harry's forearms tightly. "You're just going to apparate us, right?"

"Of course," Harry nodded. "But some people don't take to Trans-Atlantic apparition so well. You might feel a little queasy."

"Trans-Atlantic?" Draco asked, eyeing the man in confusion. What was Harry thinking? Everyone knows it's impossible to apparate across oceans.

"Don't worry, I've done this hundreds of times," Harry assured. He leaned forward and whispered into Draco's ear. "Now close your eyes."

Draco followed the man's instructions without thinking, lost in the strange feeling of Harry's warm breath wafting over the shell of his ear. It really was the most amazing thing. Harry's arms were amazing as well, all muscle and sinew under Draco's fingertips. Wizards rarely wore short-sleeved shirts, but Harry was wearing a muggle button-up shirt and it fit rather nicely on the man's lean frame.

Then the very air seemed to swallow the both of them and Draco gasped, feeling as if he'd been hit in the stomach with a bludger. This wasn't like normal apparition; it wasn't over in a snap. No, Trans-Atlantic apparition took at least a minute and it was the most excruciating minute of Draco's life.

"Take a deep breath." Harry rubbed Draco's back consolingly as the blonde doubled over and his body was wracked with dry-heaves.

"Pot…Harry…that was…how…"

"You get used to it after awhile," Harry assured him, "The first time was hell though. Are you going to be okay?"

Draco nodded and pulled a small phial from his back pocket. He downed the brown potion in one gulp and waited patiently for the concoction to do its work.

"I'm okay now."

"Do you carry a potion for everything?" Harry asked.

Draco straightened the dark blue polo shirt he was wearing and grinned at his friend. "Of course, I'm a Potions Master, aren't I? Don't you carry your wand everywhere, o' killer of dark wizards and basilisks?"

"Actually I killed the basilisk with a sword."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Sorry, must've forgotten. Now where in Merlin's name are we?" He eyed the cityscape before him. It was an unfamiliar city with many tall buildings and one very tall pointed structure.

"Hope you're not afraid of heights," Harry chuckled.

"What? Don't tell me we're eating there!"

Harry pointed at the building. "That, my dear Draco, is the CN Tower. See that round thing close to the top." He pointed upward. "That's the restaurant. Dinner at eleven-hundred and fifty feet!"

The blonde's jaw dropped. "Is it a magical restaurant?"

"Nope, completely muggle," Harry explained, "The whole tower was built by muggles, no magic involved."

Draco scanned the structure, wondering at how the muggles had built something so large. "Amazing. Do you know how they did it?"

"No and I don't think I want to know."

"Why not?"

Harry shrugged. "I like the idea that some things in this world can still remain a mystery. It makes life more interesting."

Draco could understand that. "I used to think muggles were completely useless," Draco admitted."

"Really?" Harry rolled his eyes.

"It's true. Until I met Augustus at St. Mungo's I didn't know anything about muggle technology, but they've really come up with some amazing things."

"Let's go get some amazing muggle food," urged Harry, "I'm starving."

The two men began walking toward the tower. Harry whistled a tune while Draco eyed the people and cars they passed on the street. He was completely enraptured with the bustling city with its large buildings and loud noises. It was as if Harry had brought him to an alien planet.

"Did you come here often when you lived in America?"

"We're not in America," Harry replied nonchalantly, "We're actually in Canada, Toronto to be exact." A deep blush stained his cheeks. "But I have been here a few times, yes."

Draco nudged his side. "So this is where Potter takes all his dates, eh?"

"No." The blush became deeper. "I've only come here by myself. It's kind of…"

"Kind of what?"

"My private place," Harry blurted out, his cane tapping across the sidewalk quickly. "I used to come here to be alone. No one knows me here. I rarely run into anyone who knows Harry Potter."

"I can see how one might find that appealing," Draco nodded. "No one here knows Draco Malfoy either."

Harry grinned. "Really? I thought the whole world was aware of your existence. Is there really a place where people don't know the name Malfoy, Draco Malfoy?"

This time it was Draco's turn to blush. "I was really a ponce, wasn't I?" Harry chuckled. "Hey, you were a goody two shoes, that's just as bad!" The blonde exclaimed.

"Me, a goody-two-shoes? I think Snape would have a heart attack if he heard someone call me that. I was a horrible troublemaker. I think I may have tied the Weasley twins for detentions."

Draco rolled his eyes. "If you're off saving the world, it can't be counted as causing trouble. When did you ever get into any trouble that wasn't directly related with saving someone, or protecting someone, or doing something heroic or…"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Harry laughed. "I should have just caused trouble like the twins, it would have been more enjoyable then fighting giant snakes and battling Dementors."

Before they knew it, they were at the restaurant and being led to their seats. Harry had made reservations months ago. The view from their table was amazing and he enjoyed watching the look on Draco's face when the man realized that the view had changed a few minutes after sitting down.

Draco looked at the table, then looked at the other tables and then looked out the window. He did this more than once before giving Harry a confused look. "I swear that building has moved since we sat down," he whispered across the table.

Harry leaned over and paused for a moment, giving the other man a serious look. "I think I'm going to have to cut you off Draco, I mean it, no more wine."

Draco glanced back out the window. "There, it moved again!"

A few people turned at his outburst, so Harry decided he better explain. "The buildings aren't moving, we are. The restaurant is turning."

Draco stared out the window and a slow smile formed on his face. "Amazing. What a great idea. A restaurant that spins…" Harry could see the gears turning in the man's head. "Just think what kind of crowds a restaurant like that could draw in Hogsmeade. It could be way up in the air like this one, maybe a glass floor so people could look below them."

"Not the best idea," Harry interjected. "People might get sick."

"You're probably right, but still, such an idea has great potential."

Harry chuckled. "Glad I could be of service. That's what I'm here for, to give you business ideas."

A strange light was in Draco's eyes, one Harry hadn't seen since he'd faced the boy on a broom during Quidditch at Hogwarts. "We could do it together Harry, just think, our very own restaurant. We wouldn't need to work there; we could hire a few wizards and witches to run the whole thing while we teach at Hogwarts. Just think of the money we could make."

"Just think of the money it would take," Harry grumbled into his water glass. "In case it's escaped your mind Draco, I'm quite broke."

"But you're wrong," Draco stated assuredly. "You just haven't capitalized on all of your equity. Your equity is your name. My money, your name, perfect match."

Harry shook his head. "No thank you. I don't want people eating at Potter's Place or anything stupid like that."

Draco's nose wrinkled. "Potter's Place, how awful. No, I can think of something better." He rubbed his chin. "Give me a moment."

"We could always name it something French, that's how fancy restaurants are always named, aren't they? How about 'Vol de Mort'?" Harry laughed. "That's French."

Draco snapped his fingers. "That's it, 'Le Garçon qui A vécu'. It's perfect!"

"What does it mean? Not something stupid I hope."

"Of course not," Draco grinned. "It translates to 'The Boy Who Lived'." He waited for Harry's reaction, expecting that the other wizard would throw some type of tantrum. Instead Harry surprised him greatly.

"That's excellent!" Harry exclaimed, a wide smile splitting his scarred face. "Got any other ideas?"

Draco tapped his chin. "Dieu de Blond?"

"What does that mean?"

"The Blonde God," he stated with a smirk. Harry laughed and laughed at that and Draco decided he liked Harry's gruff laughter. He also liked the way the corner of Harry's good eye crinkled when the man laughed. There were many things about Harry that the blonde was beginning to like.

"We could name it after Snape," Harry suggested in an innocent tone, "Got one for him?"

Draco thought about it for a moment. "Batte avec le Grand Nez."

Harry was sitting on the end of his seat, preparing for another good laugh. "Okay, what does it mean?"

Draco made sure to draw the words out slowly. "Bat with the Big Nose."

This time Harry laughed so hard that the hostess eventually came to the table and told them they were disturbing the other patrons. They both apologized profusely.

Harry seemed a bit nervous after that. The man's hands shook while he was eating and he fidgeted constantly. Finally Draco had enough. "Is there something wrong Harry?"

"No," Harry replied quickly, "I guess I'm not used to this."

"Used to what? We've gone to dinner before."

Harry nodded. "I know, but this time seems a bit different. I don't know." He shrugged. "It just seems like…things…are a bit different. You know?"

Frankly Draco did know, but it didn't make him nervous and he couldn't understand why Harry was feeling that way. Draco was excited that things were changing between Harry and him. He wanted things to keep changing, he wanted to see where things would lead, what wonderful times the two of them would have together, all of these thoughts filled him with hope and a strange kind of longing he hadn't felt in ages.

Somewhere, in the very depths of him, laid a substantial amount of fear but he was ignoring that for the time being, enjoying the way his feelings for Harry filled him in a way nothing had before. Perhaps the first time he'd touched his wand had a similar effect, but even that felt muted next to what he felt every time Harry grinned in his stupid Gryffindor way and mussed his hair until he looked like a shaggy, dark-haired lion.

"Draco, are you listening to me?"

"What?" Mustn't get lost in my thoughts, Draco reprimanded himself.

"I was just saying that I might really be interested in your restaurant idea. Especially if it can get me some galleons, Merlin knows I need them."

"We'll discuss it more at Hogwarts," Draco stated. And we'll discuss why you need to buy so many potions, he added in his head. "So, what movie have you picked out for tonight? I should tell you now that I haven't been to many movies, it always seemed like such a muggle thing."

"You'll like it," Harry assured him, "We're going to see a classic. It's called Friday the 13th."

Draco cocked his head to the side. "What an odd title. What does it mean?"

Harry shrugged. "Not quite sure," he lied. "I think it's some kind of muggle holiday."