Wyv a/n: We're back! Sequel to 'Down Brighton Way'. I know if we left more time in between sequels we'd get more reviews. But we just get so damn impatient that we have to write and post!
Bel a/n: Thank you to our reviewers! We adore all your comments! The roll of honour is as follows: Cat Samwise : don't worry, we'll keep writing more till we run out of ideas :). And the wonderful Just Silver: Er, it's me you have to blame for the pink leather. Sorry! I just thought it would be, I dunno, cute.
Wyv: And as for Harry and Draco getting back together...well... we'll just see when the mood takes us, eh? Maybe when they get back together in your fic *evil grin*
Disclaimer: Not ours. JKR would probably have a fit if she knew what we were getting her characters into :)
Confusion and Longing.
Draco ran from the club, tears streaming down his face, his mind a whirl of confusion. His only thought was to get away from Harry as fast as possible. Fred sprinted out of the club after him, only to witness him Disapparating at the end of the road. Fred swore and went back to the club.
Inside the club, Harry was sitting with a cocktail, stabbing at the ice cubes with the stirrer. George was desperately trying in vain to calm him down long enough to reason with him.
"I'm such an idiot!" growled Harry for the thousandth time, and looking for all the world like he could murder someone.
"I could have told you that, for dumping Draco in the first place," said George. Harry started stabbing at the ice cubes in his drink with alarming vigorosity.
"And why the hell did you and Fred have to stick your bloody noses in!" demanded Harry. "I was perfectly happy until tonight!"
"No, you weren't! You were moping about the flat..."
"It was still none of your fucking business!"
"I think it is my business when one of my friends suffers a drastic personality change," replied George. Fred Apparated next to him. "Did you find him?"
"No, he got to the end of the road and Disapparated," replied Fred. "He could be anywhere."
"Well, go and find him then!" snapped George, his usual joviality gone in the stress of the moment. Fred gave him a dirty look, and Disapparated again.
Draco had decided to go to the beach. The lapping of the waves had a calming effect on him, and he took the time to try and sort out the confusion in his mind.
He was feeling a mind-boggling surge of emotions. He was angry, angry at Fred and George for arranging this meeting and nosing into other people's business. He was annoyed at himself. He shouldn't have allowed Fred and George to tempt him back to England. He shouldn't have let Harry get to him. He should have walked away.
And as for Harry, well, his reaction to Draco with another bloke had been puzzling. Harry had told him that he didn't love him anymore. Surely, then, if that was the case, he wouldn't have been so jealous. And then Harry had kissed him, thus making Draco realise that he still desired Harry, and making him feel guilty about Elliott, even though they hadn't done anything. The remembered hurt from their argument had loomed large in Draco's mind when he saw Harry. That was something that would not just go away.
And Draco had also realised that he couldn't go back to Harry, not just yet anyway. Everything was happening too fast. He needed to sort his head out. He needed to be sure what he really wanted. He needed to know whether he could forgive Harry for the pain he'd caused.
He turned as he heard Fred approach. Fred sat down next to him.
"You idiot!" he snapped. Draco turned and stared at him.
"You what?"
"You heard! Harry's one of our best friends, we don't like seeing him upset."
"Well, maybe you shouldn't have butted in on our problems! I don't want anyone else sorting out my lovelife!" yelled Draco.
"Well, someone's got to, because you obviously can't!" Fred snapped back. "Look, you don't know what he was like the first couple of weeks. He was so miserable. He was like a zombie. It was really depressing. He loves you, Draco."
"And... I still love him," Draco admitted.
"Well then, he loves you, you love him, what's the problem!" shouted Fred, exasperated.
"It's not as simple as that. He told me he didn't. Anyway, you don't know what I was like for the first month. I felt hollow and empty. I..." Draco fell silent. Fred just stared at him.
"I was really depressed. I love Harry more than anything in the world. I would die for him. Damn near did." Fred gaped at Draco, appalled.
"You mean you..."
"Tried to slit my wrists. See the scar? That was done with a penknife. Not enough damage to kill me, but enough to make me black out. I was so disappointed when I woke up." For once in his life, Fred was speechless. Draco went on.
"And then I realised that, instead of killing myself, I could lose myself in the false bliss provided by too much alcohol. I'd just pulled myself out of that when you two showed up." Fred shook his head.
"Draco..." he began then, unsure of what to say next, pulled Draco into a hug. Draco, grateful for the sympathy, burst into tears.
"Hey, steady on!" whispered Fred after a while. "My T-shirt shrinks when wet!" Draco chuckled and pulled away.
"Thanks. I needed that."
"No problem."
"Look, can you tell Harry that I'm sorry, I just need some thinking time for now. I need to be sure whether I can forgive him."
"He's forgiven you."
"I know, he's made that clear. But I need to forgive him, and to do that I have to be sure of what I really want first."
"Okay. Look, you're in quite a state. Want me to stay with you tonight?" Draco nodded. "Right, I have to tell the others what's going on. Get back to the hotel. I'll meet you there." Draco nodded again, and both men Disapparated.
Harry was pacing up and down the flat and George was lying down on the sofa, head buried under a cushion when Fred appeared.
"There you are! He's been driving me mad!" George exclaimed, gesturing dramatically in Harry's direction.
"What did Draco say?" asked Harry anxiously.
"He's confused. He says he's sorry, Harry, but he needs thinking time. He needs to sort out what he wants." Harry groaned and sank down on a chair.
"Not really what I wanted to hear," he admitted.
"Hey, it's not that bad," replied George cheerfully. "At least there's still a chance." Harry nodded.
"Did you tell him I love him?"
"Yeah. He said he loves you too..."
"So what's the problem!" whined Harry.
"He's not sure whether he can forgive you yet."
"What's to forgive?"
"You telling him you don't love him, maybe?"
"Yeah, but I've forgiven him for calling me crap in bed..."
"I think telling him that you don't love him is a little bit worse, don't you?" replied George. "He was really hurt, you know."
"So was I. I guess...I don't know. Maybe I just wanted a reason to make up and forget the last couple of months. They were so horrible, you know, I hardly saw him. And when I did see him, he was asleep. He looks so cute when he's asleep."
"Yeah, I'm sure. Anyway, you still have a chance to make up, you just need to give him some time to forget," reasoned George.
"I guess you're right. I'm sorry. I just thought, you know, I'd be better off without him, but now..." He sighed. "Trouble is, I didn't realise just how much I love him, how much I need him, until he wasn't there any more."
"Yeah, I know," said Fred soothingly, then looked at his watch. "I'd better go, I promised Draco I'd stay with him tonight."
"Okay. See you in the morning." Fred Disapparated. Harry groaned again and buried his head in his hands.
"I'm such a twat, aren't I?" he asked. George grinned.
"Well, I wasn't going to say anything..." he began. He nudged Harry when he failed to respond. "It's that bad, hey?" Harry nodded glumly, staring at the fire. George put an arm around his shoulders.
"You need serious cheering up. How about we go shopping tomorrow?"
"Yeah, okay. I could do with some shoes."
"That's my boy!"
The next morning, Draco was feeling happier. The reason for this was that he was eating ice cream. Mint choc chip with chocolate sauce. Fred walked in dressed in his pyjamas, and laughed when he saw Draco.
"What?" asked Draco through a mouthful of ice cream.
"Draco, you're 25, isn't it time you learned where your mouth was? I mean, you've even got ice cream by your ear!" Draco shrugged and carried on eating. "You look really funny in the morning, you know?" Fred went on. "Your hair sticks up everywhere. You have mascara lines all down your face. Your pyjamas are too small. How did Harry put up with that sight in the morning?" Draco grinned at him, deliberately dribbling ice cream down his chin. Fred shook his head and wandered off to have a shower.
Harry and George were having fun shopping. They found the strangest combinations of clothes they could find and modelled them as if they were on the catwalk. At least, Harry was modelling them, and George was doing a running commentary.
"And here, we have Harry Potter of Quidditch fame, modelling this season's latest fashions: orange T-shirt, green tank top, tight, flared red jeans and ladies high heeled shoes! Very '70's chic!" Various shoppers were laughing at them. The assistants were glaring. Harry was actually laughing.
"You must be feeling better, mate, I haven't heard you laugh like that for ages," George remarked as they left the shop.
"Yeah, I know. Hey, you still haven't shown me your shop yet!"
"Of course! How could I be so inconsiderate!" George led Harry to a shop he hadn't noticed before. The Muggle shoppers certainly didn't. 'Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' was emblazoned above the shop, green writing on a gold background. "I think you'll like it," said George. "We spent ages developing the stock." He bowed low. "After you, sir."
"Idiot," Harry laughed as he walked in.
An hour later, Draco and Fred were shopping too. Draco had decided that he really, really wanted a feather boa and was dragging Fred into every accessories shop they could find until he found the perfect one.
"But it's exactly the same as the ones in all the shops before!" moaned Fred, as Draco prepared to pay for it.
"No it's not! The others were the wrong colour..."
"They were all white!"
"They were the wrong sort of white! And the others were moulting!"
"You're impossible, you know that?"
"Famed for it, dahling!"
That moment, Harry and George walked into the shop, laughing about the pranks they'd just tried. Draco froze momentarily as he saw them, then hurriedly paid for his feather boa and practically ran out of the shop, leaving Fred stranded, yelling after him 'Where are you going?'
Draco found a place to sit away from the shop. He took several deep breaths as he calmed down. He knew he was being silly, but he just could not face Harry at the moment.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and jumped up.
"Sorry, Fred..." he began, and stopped as he found himself staring into Harry's gorgeous green eyes.
"Draco, we need to talk."
to be continued...
Bel a/n: Thank you to our reviewers! We adore all your comments! The roll of honour is as follows: Cat Samwise : don't worry, we'll keep writing more till we run out of ideas :). And the wonderful Just Silver: Er, it's me you have to blame for the pink leather. Sorry! I just thought it would be, I dunno, cute.
Wyv: And as for Harry and Draco getting back together...well... we'll just see when the mood takes us, eh? Maybe when they get back together in your fic *evil grin*
Disclaimer: Not ours. JKR would probably have a fit if she knew what we were getting her characters into :)
Confusion and Longing.
Draco ran from the club, tears streaming down his face, his mind a whirl of confusion. His only thought was to get away from Harry as fast as possible. Fred sprinted out of the club after him, only to witness him Disapparating at the end of the road. Fred swore and went back to the club.
Inside the club, Harry was sitting with a cocktail, stabbing at the ice cubes with the stirrer. George was desperately trying in vain to calm him down long enough to reason with him.
"I'm such an idiot!" growled Harry for the thousandth time, and looking for all the world like he could murder someone.
"I could have told you that, for dumping Draco in the first place," said George. Harry started stabbing at the ice cubes in his drink with alarming vigorosity.
"And why the hell did you and Fred have to stick your bloody noses in!" demanded Harry. "I was perfectly happy until tonight!"
"No, you weren't! You were moping about the flat..."
"It was still none of your fucking business!"
"I think it is my business when one of my friends suffers a drastic personality change," replied George. Fred Apparated next to him. "Did you find him?"
"No, he got to the end of the road and Disapparated," replied Fred. "He could be anywhere."
"Well, go and find him then!" snapped George, his usual joviality gone in the stress of the moment. Fred gave him a dirty look, and Disapparated again.
Draco had decided to go to the beach. The lapping of the waves had a calming effect on him, and he took the time to try and sort out the confusion in his mind.
He was feeling a mind-boggling surge of emotions. He was angry, angry at Fred and George for arranging this meeting and nosing into other people's business. He was annoyed at himself. He shouldn't have allowed Fred and George to tempt him back to England. He shouldn't have let Harry get to him. He should have walked away.
And as for Harry, well, his reaction to Draco with another bloke had been puzzling. Harry had told him that he didn't love him anymore. Surely, then, if that was the case, he wouldn't have been so jealous. And then Harry had kissed him, thus making Draco realise that he still desired Harry, and making him feel guilty about Elliott, even though they hadn't done anything. The remembered hurt from their argument had loomed large in Draco's mind when he saw Harry. That was something that would not just go away.
And Draco had also realised that he couldn't go back to Harry, not just yet anyway. Everything was happening too fast. He needed to sort his head out. He needed to be sure what he really wanted. He needed to know whether he could forgive Harry for the pain he'd caused.
He turned as he heard Fred approach. Fred sat down next to him.
"You idiot!" he snapped. Draco turned and stared at him.
"You what?"
"You heard! Harry's one of our best friends, we don't like seeing him upset."
"Well, maybe you shouldn't have butted in on our problems! I don't want anyone else sorting out my lovelife!" yelled Draco.
"Well, someone's got to, because you obviously can't!" Fred snapped back. "Look, you don't know what he was like the first couple of weeks. He was so miserable. He was like a zombie. It was really depressing. He loves you, Draco."
"And... I still love him," Draco admitted.
"Well then, he loves you, you love him, what's the problem!" shouted Fred, exasperated.
"It's not as simple as that. He told me he didn't. Anyway, you don't know what I was like for the first month. I felt hollow and empty. I..." Draco fell silent. Fred just stared at him.
"I was really depressed. I love Harry more than anything in the world. I would die for him. Damn near did." Fred gaped at Draco, appalled.
"You mean you..."
"Tried to slit my wrists. See the scar? That was done with a penknife. Not enough damage to kill me, but enough to make me black out. I was so disappointed when I woke up." For once in his life, Fred was speechless. Draco went on.
"And then I realised that, instead of killing myself, I could lose myself in the false bliss provided by too much alcohol. I'd just pulled myself out of that when you two showed up." Fred shook his head.
"Draco..." he began then, unsure of what to say next, pulled Draco into a hug. Draco, grateful for the sympathy, burst into tears.
"Hey, steady on!" whispered Fred after a while. "My T-shirt shrinks when wet!" Draco chuckled and pulled away.
"Thanks. I needed that."
"No problem."
"Look, can you tell Harry that I'm sorry, I just need some thinking time for now. I need to be sure whether I can forgive him."
"He's forgiven you."
"I know, he's made that clear. But I need to forgive him, and to do that I have to be sure of what I really want first."
"Okay. Look, you're in quite a state. Want me to stay with you tonight?" Draco nodded. "Right, I have to tell the others what's going on. Get back to the hotel. I'll meet you there." Draco nodded again, and both men Disapparated.
Harry was pacing up and down the flat and George was lying down on the sofa, head buried under a cushion when Fred appeared.
"There you are! He's been driving me mad!" George exclaimed, gesturing dramatically in Harry's direction.
"What did Draco say?" asked Harry anxiously.
"He's confused. He says he's sorry, Harry, but he needs thinking time. He needs to sort out what he wants." Harry groaned and sank down on a chair.
"Not really what I wanted to hear," he admitted.
"Hey, it's not that bad," replied George cheerfully. "At least there's still a chance." Harry nodded.
"Did you tell him I love him?"
"Yeah. He said he loves you too..."
"So what's the problem!" whined Harry.
"He's not sure whether he can forgive you yet."
"What's to forgive?"
"You telling him you don't love him, maybe?"
"Yeah, but I've forgiven him for calling me crap in bed..."
"I think telling him that you don't love him is a little bit worse, don't you?" replied George. "He was really hurt, you know."
"So was I. I guess...I don't know. Maybe I just wanted a reason to make up and forget the last couple of months. They were so horrible, you know, I hardly saw him. And when I did see him, he was asleep. He looks so cute when he's asleep."
"Yeah, I'm sure. Anyway, you still have a chance to make up, you just need to give him some time to forget," reasoned George.
"I guess you're right. I'm sorry. I just thought, you know, I'd be better off without him, but now..." He sighed. "Trouble is, I didn't realise just how much I love him, how much I need him, until he wasn't there any more."
"Yeah, I know," said Fred soothingly, then looked at his watch. "I'd better go, I promised Draco I'd stay with him tonight."
"Okay. See you in the morning." Fred Disapparated. Harry groaned again and buried his head in his hands.
"I'm such a twat, aren't I?" he asked. George grinned.
"Well, I wasn't going to say anything..." he began. He nudged Harry when he failed to respond. "It's that bad, hey?" Harry nodded glumly, staring at the fire. George put an arm around his shoulders.
"You need serious cheering up. How about we go shopping tomorrow?"
"Yeah, okay. I could do with some shoes."
"That's my boy!"
The next morning, Draco was feeling happier. The reason for this was that he was eating ice cream. Mint choc chip with chocolate sauce. Fred walked in dressed in his pyjamas, and laughed when he saw Draco.
"What?" asked Draco through a mouthful of ice cream.
"Draco, you're 25, isn't it time you learned where your mouth was? I mean, you've even got ice cream by your ear!" Draco shrugged and carried on eating. "You look really funny in the morning, you know?" Fred went on. "Your hair sticks up everywhere. You have mascara lines all down your face. Your pyjamas are too small. How did Harry put up with that sight in the morning?" Draco grinned at him, deliberately dribbling ice cream down his chin. Fred shook his head and wandered off to have a shower.
Harry and George were having fun shopping. They found the strangest combinations of clothes they could find and modelled them as if they were on the catwalk. At least, Harry was modelling them, and George was doing a running commentary.
"And here, we have Harry Potter of Quidditch fame, modelling this season's latest fashions: orange T-shirt, green tank top, tight, flared red jeans and ladies high heeled shoes! Very '70's chic!" Various shoppers were laughing at them. The assistants were glaring. Harry was actually laughing.
"You must be feeling better, mate, I haven't heard you laugh like that for ages," George remarked as they left the shop.
"Yeah, I know. Hey, you still haven't shown me your shop yet!"
"Of course! How could I be so inconsiderate!" George led Harry to a shop he hadn't noticed before. The Muggle shoppers certainly didn't. 'Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' was emblazoned above the shop, green writing on a gold background. "I think you'll like it," said George. "We spent ages developing the stock." He bowed low. "After you, sir."
"Idiot," Harry laughed as he walked in.
An hour later, Draco and Fred were shopping too. Draco had decided that he really, really wanted a feather boa and was dragging Fred into every accessories shop they could find until he found the perfect one.
"But it's exactly the same as the ones in all the shops before!" moaned Fred, as Draco prepared to pay for it.
"No it's not! The others were the wrong colour..."
"They were all white!"
"They were the wrong sort of white! And the others were moulting!"
"You're impossible, you know that?"
"Famed for it, dahling!"
That moment, Harry and George walked into the shop, laughing about the pranks they'd just tried. Draco froze momentarily as he saw them, then hurriedly paid for his feather boa and practically ran out of the shop, leaving Fred stranded, yelling after him 'Where are you going?'
Draco found a place to sit away from the shop. He took several deep breaths as he calmed down. He knew he was being silly, but he just could not face Harry at the moment.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and jumped up.
"Sorry, Fred..." he began, and stopped as he found himself staring into Harry's gorgeous green eyes.
"Draco, we need to talk."
to be continued...
