Canceria:   I'm very glad you think I handled it well.  I thought so, too.  I do enjoy being bitchy and sarcastic (some of my best qualities, in my opinion) but I enjoy being quirky as well.  What can I say?  I'm versatile like that.

Deirdre Riordan:  I love happy endings so you need not worry about that.  This guy from your school sounds wonderful.  Joel is the most popular character of this story (for obvious reasons).  You can join the fan club if you wish.

SIAS:  Sorry about your bruise and I won't call you insane.  Okay, I will, but it's okay.  I'm insane, too.

Kelly:  Oh gods, I laughed so hard when I read that thing about the squirrel.  You know, the best thing about sharing my bird story in the last chapter has to be that now everyone is sharing their strange animal stories with me.  I love it!

Fate's Child:  Feel free to talk about coughing your throat raw in my reviews.  I talk about vomiting in mine.

ClarkeRaven:  Francois is awesome, isn't he?  I love that crazy, little French man.

Evil Laughter:  Hey, you.  I'll knock off Sam and send Joel to you in the mail.

Thanks to everyone else who read and/or reviewed.  I appreciate it and would thank you each individually if I had the time.  However, I don't, and I'm sure you'd rather be reading the chapter.

Not JK Rowling.  I don't own Harry Potter or the entire world within. Anything you recognize would belong to her.  Anything you don't would belong to me, including the crack!plot of this trifle of a story.  I am (obviously) making no money off this though if you really want to sue me, I've got $10.00.  Good day.

*~*~*~*~*

"Well?" said Ron, as Harry dropped to the hotel bed and stretched out over the cheap comforter.

"He still hasn't answered me," said Harry.

"Harry, we leave next week," said Hermione.  "Six days and he still hasn't given you an answer!"

"I don't think he's coming."

"Oh, Harry," she said covering her mouth with her hand.  "Are you sure?"

"You can never be sure with Draco but. . .I don't know.  He hasn't given me an answer yet and I keep reminding him that I'm leaving soon.  I never just come out and say anything-"

"Oh, of course not."

"-But sometimes I think that I should.  He's been so distant.  He knows I'm going and Cher has just been a wreck about it but he acts like he doesn't even care.  It's like he's prepared to just let me walk out of his life a second time but I don't know if I can do it.  If it comes down to it. . .I don't know if I can leave him."

"But, Harry," said Ron, "if he won't come with, you obviously aren't important enough -"

"It's not my matter of importance in his life, Ron.  I mean, what would you do if you were him?  I'd stay put right where I was.  Think of all he's been through.  His life isn't back in England anymore.  It's here in New York.  He has a daughter that he raised here.  All of his friends are here.  He's got a job and a place to live.  Ten years, Ron.  Think of all the time that passed since we graduated.  All of that time he spent here."

"I see your point, but Harry, not everything, more pointedly, not everyone is here."

"No, but do you realize what I'm even asking him to do?  I didn't when I asked him.  If I had, I don't think I would have ever done so.  Being with him again after so long. . .I got caught up in him.  By asking him to go back. . .that's a life he wanted to forget so badly that he came here.  In New York, he isn't just Malfoy, Lucius's son and the Slytherin King of Jerks.  I mean, it would be like me choosing to be a muggle.  No one would look at me as the Boy-Who-Lived, and after being accustomed to that for ten years, I don't know if I could leave it.  Or like you not having to be another one of the red-haired poor Weasley clan who loves muggles too much.  Or Hermione not being the insufferable Gryffindor know-it-all."

"Point made," said Ron, softly.  "But you want him to come, don't you?"

"For my own selfish reasons, yes.  For Draco -"

"You don't know," finished Hermione.

"No.  I don't."

~*~

The bell to the diner rang and Draco looked up from the counter he was washing off to see Cherish running in, Harry and Joel strolling along behind her.  She climbed up onto the counter, slid a five at him, and asked for a chocolate sundae.  As Draco passed the order back, Joel and Harry slid in before the counter.

Walking around to them, Draco wrapped Cherish in a hug, kissed her on the forehead, and said, "How was your day?"

"It was great.  Harry and Uncle Joel took me to the zoo with Ellie and then we went on the rides.  We haven't been to the zoo in awhile, Daddy.  Why is that?"

"I don't know.  I guess we just never get around to it."

"Are you 'ere again?" snapped Francois, coming out of the back room and walking over to Joel.

"Sure am.  You know I only come by because it gives you such a tickled pickle to see me."

"Indeed.  Draco, 'ave you been looking for Sylvester?"

"Sylvester?" asked Harry.

"The mouse," explained Draco.  "No, I haven't, but I'm sure Gabrielle is doing a very thorough search of the broom closet as we speak.  Either that or she's smoking again."

"Not in ze restaurant!" he cried, barreling for the staff door.

"He named the imaginary mouse?" asked Harry, once Francois disappeared.

"Yeah.  Apparently he has a softness for the 'Rocky' movies."

"Wait," said Joel, laughing, "he named the mouse after Sylvester Stallone."

"I know.  Don't ridicule him too much.  I've been taking care of it."

There was a loud bang and the staff door opened, Francois emerging looking proud and a rather embarrassed Gabrielle following him.

"I won't ask questions," said Joel.

"Hey, that's what we usually say about you."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

Draco scowled.  "You've been speaking with Potter too much.  You never call me 'Malfoy.'"

"I never knew it bothered you."

Suddenly, there was a high-pitched, girlish shriek, and Francois leaped up onto the counter pointing at the ground.  "Zere!  Did you see it?  It was ze mouse.  Find 'im!  Find 'im!  Catch Sylvester and incinerate 'im!"

"Actually, I did see him," said Gabrielle, gaping as she walked over to where the mouse had disappeared inside the counter.  "Draco, come see this."

He crossed to her, crouched down, and from the awkward position beneath the stools they could see a small, mouse-sized hole leading into the hollow space beneath the counter.  Draco suppressed a laugh as he looked to Gabrielle and then Francois hopping up and down on the counter, whimpering about mice and razor-sharp teeth.

"Would you look at that," he muttered.  "Old Francois wasn't going batty after all.  There is a mouse hole."

"Catch 'im!  Catch 'im!" Francois bellowed.  "Catch Sylvester before 'e gets away!"

"You're scared of him.  You're scared of mice.  That's so cute," said Gabrielle grinning.

"Oh it's just a little mouse you baby," Draco chastised as he wandered over to the window behind the counter that looked into the kitchen.  "Hey, David.  Good news.  Francois isn't nuts and we've really got a mouse in the house.  We need bait to lure the poor creature out of his hole."

"Who'd have thunk," muttered David as he handed Draco a small block of cheese.  "Is that Francois dancing on the counter?"

"Yeah.  He's afraid of mice, it would seem."

David snickered as Draco headed back to where Gabrielle sat on the ground.  Placing the cheese by the hole, Draco grabbed a plastic cup in preparation to trap Sylvester once he emerged from his hiding spot.

"'As 'e come out yet?  He is in zere, I know it!"

"Calm yourself, Francois, or you're going to die from a stroke.  He's not coming out."

"Your face must 'ave scared 'im away."

"Eh ha ha heh," said Draco in a forced laughter.  "Funny."

"Come on, Francois," said Gabrielle.  "Get down here.  He's only been coming out when you're around for weeks.  Maybe he likes you."

"Or maybe he likes that cheesy smelling cologne he wears."

"I will do no such zing, and Draco, if you continue in zis fashion you will be fired."

"Yes, but then who would catch the mice for you?  You could always hire Joel, I suppose."

Francois stared at Joel in horror that the suggestion was even uttered.  "No zank you, I am perfectly capable of catching ze mice on my own, oui?"

"No, I don't think so, but if you want to prove yourself, Sylvester still hasn't come out yet."  Draco smiled sweetly.

"Wait," said Gabrielle.  "I think I see a nose."

"Catch 'im!  Catch Sylvester!"

Sure enough, a small nose was peaking out of the hole and a small brown mouse emerged, crawling over to the cheese and taking it into its paws.  Casting the plastic cup aside, Draco picked him up and cradled him in his hands, pulling the mouse close to his body and stroking the shivering creature.  He walked over to Francois and held out the creature, but Francois leaped fully over the counter and went running.

"Baby," said Joel taking the mouse out of Draco's hands.

"Really," added Gabrielle dusting off her hands, knees, and the front of her shirt.  "There was actually a mouse in the diner.  Can you believe it?"

~*~

Draco liked the sound of his shoes against the cement when he walked home at night.  He liked the lights from signs and traffic, the hum of a multitude of engines, and the loud voices of those just getting into their prime when he winded down from a late night at work.  Most of all, he loved the city and walking back to apartment 1512.  It was a habit, part of his daily routine, and Draco loved every minute of it.

He did love the city, but he was reminded of things he used to love, things that he still held dear in his mind and yearned to do again.  Draco liked the sound of his robes swishing around him when he walked down a particularly quiet hallway at night.  He liked the sound of chatter that floated through your ears when walking down Diagon Alley.  He liked the smell of Flourish and Blotts, all those wizard texts confined in one place.  He even liked the Apothecary, the Potions ingredients fascinating him.  He liked the lighting in the Leaky Cauldron.  He liked the feeling of the wind brushing against your face when you were up on a broomstick and though he hated to admit it, he liked the feeling of the Snitch clasped in his palm after an especially excruciating game.

When all things were considered, he loved both worlds.  If he went back, he would miss the city, but if he stayed, he would lose Harry.  Back in the wizarding world there lay only people he had once known in what felt like a far away dream.  There were strange memories with rough edges, blurry lines colliding together like the fuzzy picture on a muggle television screen.  Here he had his job, his friends, and his new life.  Here things made sense and the pictures were clear, crisp in his mind.

Draco couldn't imagine this being one of the last times he'd ever walk home late at night from the diner.  In fact, if he did go, then this would most certainly be the last time he'd walk home late at night from work at all.  New York would fade away.  Would it become a distant, hazy memory like England had become?  Would Joel, Samantha, Gabrielle, and Gwen fade into the background of his mind like so many people from Hogwarts had?

And what would happen when he arrived in Hogsmeade?  People weren't just going to welcome him with open arms.  A lot of them would probably want answers and he knew they would get a real kick out of knowing just what exactly had become of him.  Word would, no doubt, reach his father eventually, even if he was in Azkaban.  That was something Draco didn't even want to think about.  What would he do in Hogsmeade?  He had been gone for so long, never using his wand.  What would happen to Cherish?  She was still in primary school and it would be a few years until he knew whether she would be going to Hogwarts or not.

There were very important decisions for Draco to make and his head hurt very much when he turned his key in the lock and was surprised to see that it was already open.  Harry and Cherish were supposed to be spending the night in a mega-sleepover, or slumber party according to Cherish, at Ron and Hermione's hotel room so that Cherish could be with Harper and Ellie before they left.  All he wanted was some Tylenol and his bed when he pushed open the door, preparing for the worst, but all he found was Joel rummaging through the refrigerator and he left out a sigh.

"I thought someone broke in, you asshole.  No one was supposed to be here tonight."

"Sorry, but I thought you could use some company.  Look what I brought."

"Southern Brew Iced Tea?" asked Draco, reading the label.

"Yeah.  Sam's mom sent two gallons to us from her vacation in Pennsylvania.  It's supposed to taste just like, well, southern brewed iced tea.  Sam's been raving about it.  I thought we could try a glass together."

"Yeah.  Okay."  Draco tried to smile as he sat across from where Joel stood.  Joel poured him a bit of the tea and slid the glass across the table.  Draco was starting to feel like he'd entered a bar.

"So what's troubling you?"

"What makes you think I'm troubled?" asked Draco as he downed the tea, wincing.  "I like it better with lemon."

"Yeah?"  Joel tried some of the tea and scrunched up his face.  "Me too.  Must be a New York thing.  I don't know.  Sam loves it."

Sliding his glass back across the table, Draco dropped his head into his hands.  Joel refilled it with tea and slid it back.  "It's the whole Harry thing."

"He leaves in five days, doesn't he?"  Draco nodded and took another gulp of the tea, downing it in one swallow.  "What are you going to do about that?"

"I don't know.  He. . .he asked me to move back to England with him."

"Really?  When?"

"I don't remember.  Right when he showed up.  I've been thinking about it ever since."

Joel bit his lip as he refilled Draco's glass and slid it across the table.  "Heavy.  Are you going?"

"I don't know.  That's just the thing.  I've been running for so long and he's the only thing I've got that would make me go.  My job's here.  My life is here.  My daughter is here.  You're here."

"Me?  I matter?"

"Of course you matter, you dolt.  You're my best friend."

"Really?"

"Yes!"

"Oh. . .well.  I didn't know you cared.  I just thought you put up with me because I wouldn't go away."

"Trust me, if I didn't like you, you would know it.  You certainly wouldn't know about Harry, that's for sure."

"Do you miss England?  Being a wizard and going to all those wizard places?"

"Well, yeah.  It was my home.  I grew up there.  It's still a part of me."

"I think you should go."

Draco missed the glass as Joel slid it to him and it shattered on the floor.  Draco stared at the tea stained carpet and Joel rounded to clean the mess up as Draco sat, staring in shock.

"Why?" he finally said.

"Why what?"

"Why do you think I should go back?"

Joel smiled as he threw away the pieces of glass.  "It's the way you look at each other.  The way you get when he touches you.  You're so much happier now than you were before he showed up here.  If you let him go, you're going to regret it.  If I'm really your best friend, and I have to let you know that you're mine, then you need to trust me.  I think you should go."

"I want to go," whispered Draco.

"Then you should go.  What are you so afraid of, anyway?"

"You don't understand what it was like for me back there, Joel.  My father. . .he always pushed me to achieve my very best, but he was involved in the dark arts.  All Malfoys, at least most of them, have been since as far back as I can trace.  He was feared among many people.  The Malfoy family is a long line.  I'm. . .Father always said I never lived up to what I could have been.  He said I had the potential but I was too lazy to use it.  The only time he ever complimented me was when I was made Head Boy.  Because of the way my father is, all the Malfoys have been, people judge me right away.  I'm Draco Malfoy so I must be evil.  But here, when I met you, you didn't care if I was a Malfoy.  Hell, you thought my name was weird and it was like Christmas morning for you.  Strange looking kid with an even stranger name shows up wanting to be your roommate.  No one cared if I was a Malfoy.  No one looked at me like I was going to hex them because my last name was Malfoy."

"So you don't want to go back.  Because of the way a bunch of pompous, arrogant assholes treat you just because your last name is Malfoy."

"I know it sounds lame but after going from one extreme to the other, I found that I liked myself more when I wasn't handicapped by being a Malfoy.  Harry. . .he was everything to me in my seventh year.  It was so strange because I had hated him for so long.  Harry fucking Potter, the bloody Boy-Who-Lived.  I had to live in his shadow for years.  But then, he came out as a bisexual, and we had something in common.  It was something that people were appalled by.  I thrived on it.  People appalled by the Boy-Who-Lived.  He had a flaw and people were actually noticing it.  But when he started to get jeered at, I started to take their comments to him personally.  I felt like everyone knew about me and since he was, too, he was the one I told when I couldn't hold it in any longer."

"Fuck, Draco, no wonder you kept all the sordid details to yourself.  And I just thought you were being anal retentive about forgetting your ex."

"Yeah, well, no one but Hermione, Ron, and our headmaster ever knew about our relationship.  Harry's the golden boy.  Harry defeated the Dark Lord.  You know what I did?  I supported Voldemort until I was in my sixth year.  It took my father beating me to the point where I almost died when I truly realized just how corrupted power can make you.  I criticized Harry because he wouldn't be my friend, I tore down Ron because he laughed at my name, and I wouldn't leave poor Hermione be for one second because she was muggle-born.  What would people say if they found out that their golden boy loved someone like me?"

Joel gave a short laugh.  "You just want everyone to like you, don't you?"

Draco nodded, miserably.  "Yeah.  Pathetic, isn't it?"

"A little.  Look, not everyone is going to like you.  If you're waiting for everyone to, you'll be waiting a very long time.  There's a lot, and I do mean a lot, of people that despise me.  Want me dead.  Take Francois, for example.  Sam's mom.  Mr. Garen.  Who cares what people think?  So you made some mistakes.  I've made a million.  You were a jerk in school.  Kids are dumb.  They do dumb things.  I still do dumb things.  Remember the jam balloons?"

"I remember."

"You see?  And I'm thirty-two.  You were a kid.  Who cares what people think?"

"I do.  Consider what I am.  A pureblood Slytherin.  A Malfoy.  What are people going to say when I show up as a bisexual with Harry on my arm and a half-blood daughter after living in the muggle world for ten years?"

"They're going to go 'Shit, what the fuck happened to that Malfoy kid?  He looks more like forty than twenty-eight.'  Give it a rest, Draco.  From what you're telling me, you've come a long way.  I think you're looking at this in entirely the wrong perspective.  You took the initiative to not become a Death Eater.  You went to the muggle world and you survived.  You raised a little girl all on your own and I've seen her, Draco.  She turned out beautifully on the outside and inside."

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Really, Draco, I think you should go."

*~*~*~*~*

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