"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
The cameras were flashing, the patrons were offering him drinks, and at the far end of the bar, he saw Draco Malfoy, sipping a glass of champagne.
There was no ice.
Malfoy had apparently seen him too, because he scoffed and immediately started piling Sickles onto the bar.
Harry wasn't sure what possessed him, but before he knew it, his feet were carrying him towards his ex-boyfriend. Despite the cameras, despite the fans, he was headed right towards the man that had wanted nothing more than for their life to be private.
Perhaps, it was his only shot.
"Malfoy."
"Potter."
"Is this seat taken?"
"No." Draco stood and pushed in his stool. "And neither is this one."
"Draco, come on."
The cameras followed him, and he followed Draco. He followed him past the shops and past the restaurants and then . . . Draco Disapparated.
"Smile for the Prophet!"
Harry wasn't smiling.