Hey again everyone.
I'm so sorry it took me so long to update. But hey, I did…consider it my holiday gift for all of you.
Wolfen-alysha-draco-dragon- I'll email you the size of the file and wait for your reply as soon as I upload the song to my computer.
Jes- Thanks!
Makalani Astral- He's just a singer in the muggle world since he left the Wizard world after he beat Voldie. The Quidditch thing was from when he was in school and played for Gryffindor.
And thanks Akai Hitomi, BratPrincess-187, rach, Emeline, and hersheyhaven!
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There was a plain look of worry on the woman bass player's face as Draco cautiously carried the limp Potter to a couch in the backroom. Harry's skin was pale to begin with, but it was flustered and clammy from the lights and probably the shock. Why he had fainted was anyone's guess, but there was a deep sense of guilt in the boy's childhood rival's mind. He had a distinct feeling that the two of them seeing each other had something to do with Harry collapsing.
He set him down on the worn brown couch, and was quickly pushed out of the way by Harry's band mates. They swarmed around him, so Draco could only catch a glimpse of the black silk shirt Harry wore. He leaned back against the wall, fishing a cigarette and lighter from his coat pocket. He clicked the lighter on, holding his hand above the flame. His eyes moved away from Potter. He realized he left his unfinished drink back on his table.
Maybe he should go back to get it…
"Harry? Oh come on, wake up."
Stupid Potter…
"This has to be the first time he's slept in months, maybe his mind just shut down."
Oh….
"I wouldn't be surprised."
Hm….
"Why hasn't he been sleeping?"
Their eyes focused on Draco, even those of the drummer as he fixed a wet towel on Harry's forehead. He raised an eyebrow, giving them the questioning-but-dead-serious Malfoy look. It seemed to work, for their weird looked disappeared, and they recognized his concern. Wait, concern? What concern? Like he cared for that scar-faced-four-eyed-golden-boy…
"He ain't been sleeping." Answered the drummer, his Scottish accent ringing clear even through the similar British ones. "Something nasty 'bout his dreams. We don't know what's been causing 'em." Draco nodded his head- that was understandable. He too had those dreams, though he had to wonder whether Harry had similar ones…
"Sounds like him. Bastard always had something off with him." He ignored their stares, taking a long breath of the cigarette before pulling it from his lips. A slightly disgusted look crossed his face, and he closed his eyes. You never could find good cigarettes on this side of London. With a slight sigh, he pushed off the wall and head back towards the entrance to the main bar. If he was lucky, he might be able to get to Diagon alley before the real weirdoes came out.
"Malfoy!"
Guess not. He glanced over his shoulders, meeting the dazzling green eyes of the boy savior. Well…Harry wasn't really a boy anymore. And when the hell did he begin calling him Harry?! Silencing the thoughts in his head, he turned around and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his free hand. A bit of ash fell off the end of his cigarette.
"I come to find a good drink and a night to relax, and who should show up? God, right when I was trying to escape all the talk of you." He looked up, and saw a flash of something in Harry's eyes, but it was gone before he could recognize it. So Draco ignored it, and glared at the golden boy. Harry glared back.
"Um…is someone gonna explain, or are we gonna sit here all night?"
It was the guitarist, and his little comment cause one pair of green and one pair of gray eyes to direct their glares at him. The man backed up a few steps, as did the rest of the band members. At least they weren't dumb. Malfoy turned his eyes back to Potter. He knew what had to be done. He didn't want to do it, but if he went back and left the golden boy here…as tempting as it was…
"Go home, get your things." His voice was colder than he expected it would be. Perhaps he was losing his touch if he was having a hard time controlling every aspect of his life. It was bloody Potter's fault, it had to be. The arrogant bastard had to be the cause of his distraction. And yet there was a little voice in the back of his head asking him why exactly he was distracted by Potter. "Be back in an hour. Pack everything. You won't get a chance to come back for anything."
He turned, and walked calmly back towards the bar room. He could feel the green eyes of his arch rival at his back, as well as the curious stares of the band members. A headache was beginning to form, and there was a pounding at the back of his eyes. He allowed the door to slam shut, and walked back over to his table. He sat down, tightening his coat, and drank the remains of his liquor quickly. He ground the cigarette to its death in the ash tray. He ran his hand through his hair.
And he waited.
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It was exactly one hour and twenty three minutes when Harry pushed his way through the front door of the bar and started his way over to where Draco sat. He had exchanged his performance outfit for a pair of dark jeans and a dark red sweater. He had on a light gray trench coat to protect him from the London weather as well. There were no signs of bag on him, but Draco clearly saw the wood of Harry's wand sticking out of the coat pocket. But he said nothing, instead standing.
"Come on." The headache had disappeared after a few moments of peace and quiet, but he could feel it returning. He didn't want to do this, not tonight of all nights. But of course fate didn't like the young Malfoy very much. And it loved torturing him on this day. "We've got to get to the Leaky Cauldron before Tom closes up for the night."
Harry pressed his lips together tightly. He wanted to ask why he had to go with Draco, but he knew why. He knew this day would come. He wanted to run from here, to run back to his empty apartment down the alley and curl up in a corner by the kitchen stove- the only area of any warmth. He wanted to hit Malfoy, wanted to throw him to the floor and let his anger out.
Instead, he fallowed Draco silently from the bar, waving weakly to his band mates. He fallowed his rival out into the rain, and never looked back.
Draco led them back towards the main street, and up to the side of an expensive looking car. Upon inspection, he saw a small A6 on the back- an Audi A6, in dark navy. He raised one eyebrow, and suddenly felt a little embarrassed standing next to the expensive car in his hole-in-the-pocket coat and old sneakers. He began to wonder if this was what Ron felt like, but he cast the thought from his mind instantly. There was nothing shameful about not having enough money.
"Hurry up before you catch a cold, Potter."
The car ride was almost peaceful. Accepts for the small fact that Draco drove like a maniac on speed. So by the time they had stopped outside the Leaky Cauldron, Harry wasn't quite aware that they had stopped at all. He was still having a difficult time breathing, and his fingers had dug themselves into the gray leather interior. He stared wide eyed out the window in complete shock.
"Something wrong Potter?" There was a wide grin on Draco's face as he looked over at the stunned golden boy. Actually, Harry looked kind of cute with his eyes that wide and his mouth hanging open just slightly. Of course, the terrified look was never too attractive to Draco. Nor would he admit that Potter was cute.
"Besides the fact you're fucking insane! And you nearly crashed into that car at the intersection and killed us! Or perhaps because you fucking insane!"
"You said that one already." The two stepped from the car, and Draco walked over to join him. "Do you happen to have a cloak on you?"
"A cloak?"
"Yeah, the sort of robe you through over your shoulders and it has a hood?"
"I bloody know what it is! And no."
Draco rolls his eyes, walking up to the boy wonder. His hands reached out, grabbing the openings of the coat and almost tearing it off of Harry. A word of protest slipped from Harry's lips, and a blush spread across his cheeks. Sudden images of Draco tearing off his clothes and pushing him to the ground filled Harry's head. He pushed the nasty demons from his thoughts, but the little snickering they let out left him feeling like those thoughts would come back.
And as much as his thoughts wanted Draco to do just that, the blonde instead turned back to the car and tossed Harry's coat into the back seat. He then leaned over, digging for something in a small duffle back on the floor. This, of course, gave Harry a very clear view of Draco's back end.
The blush increased.
Draco looked up.
"Nice view Potter?" The next moment some black fabric was thrown over his head, and Harry struggled to remove it. He pulled the cloak down, only to look up at a smirking Malfoy. Damn it all. With a small frown, Harry fastened the cloak around his neck and pulled the hood up. The fastenings were silver- pure and polished- and the fabric was something silky. It sent shivers up his back as it planted butterfly kisses onto his neck. It smelled strongly of vanilla and mint.
They entered the Leaky Cauldron in silence, and Harry was left standing awkwardly at the door as Draco went over to talk to Tom. He received a few stray glances, but luckily the cloak hid his face, so the eyes went wandering away. A few moments later Draco returned, and led him towards the stairs. He fallowed behind Malfoy almost obediently until they reached number seven. Draco held the door open for him.
"Unfortunately, all the other rooms are full." Harry walked into the small room, spotting two beds and a small table, plus the door off to the side which led to the bathroom. The table was covered with a plate of still steaming steak and vegetables, and there was a pitcher of pumpkin juice beside it. "As long as you don't snore, I suppose I'll let you stay in here with me. Go eat."
Harry removed the cloak, setting it delicately on one of the beds. Draco removed his coat, revealing a dark blue shirt and white pants, and he moved to take off his shoes. Harry treaded silently over to the table, standing there for a moment before sitting down. Something deep in his stomach sent a chill up his spine, but it had nothing to do with hunger. Sure, he hadn't eaten a full meal in a while, but…
"Draco?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you…"
"Whatever…"
A/N- I made a few adjustments to this chapter, but I'm afraid it still sucks…oh well…