Summary: A Certain quidditch player is hunting Draco's dream, reminding him of his painful past. Who is he?
Pairings: Harry/Draco
Disclaimer: I don't own them by any chance.
Chapter Two
Harry Potter woke up with a groan in the middle of the night. As he always had been for the past three years and for the past three years, he had been dreaming of the same thing. His object of affection, his better half, his soul mate, his heart and soul…his life.
A body with pale, flawless white skin, tall and lean, well-toned muscle, platinum blonde hair, cherry colored lips and those amazing gray eyes with specs of sapphire on it. The Slytherin prince…his prince, Draco Malfoy.
Sighing, he looked over his nightstand. Making out the numbers from the digital clock. '04:45.' "Great…" he mumbled. He still have 5 hours to kill before his flight to London.
Harry Potter, now known as Estefan Laurel Scott, the star player of the fast rising quidditch team of the year. Catching the snitch in every game since he started playing for the team. He also have beaten Tutshill Tornados' British record for the fastest capture of Snitch, which is three and half second in which Harry caught for three seconds only.
Harry grinned seeing Oliver Wood's, keeper of Puddlemere United, face. 'It was priceless.' But that was a close encounter with the other boy.
*Flashback*
After the game against the navy-blue waeing team (Puddlemere United), he heard footsteps outside their (Harry's) locker room.
"I swear, he flies just like someone I knew back in Hogwarts…"
He definitely recognized that voice. He hid himself behind some cart full of used towels quickly. Amused at the same time that there is just enough space for him.
"Really? Someone from your team, I guess?"
"Yeah, my seeker…best seeker I've ever seen…Harry Potter." Oliver finished as he stood in the middle of the locker room. No one was there, save Harry Potter who is currently holding his breath.
"That's silly, Wood…" said the other man. "We all know Potter…"
"I know…but I also know that he's not dead…everyone thinks he is…but us, those who were close to him…we believe that he's still alive, somewhere…" the former Gryffindor whispered, quite sober.
"I'm sorry Wood…look," a voice said, comforting the obviously younger lad. "No ones here, maybe we can…you know, catch up with him at his next game…" There was a pause, "besides, Marcus is waiting for you, surely…" added the other man more teasingly.
Harry gasped quietly. Shuffling of feet can be heard and he guessed that the Puddlemere United players have left the room. 'Well, well…will you look at that…Marcus and Oliver.'
*End of Flashback*
After showering and attending to his daily hygiene, the former Gryffindor is now lounging on his Hotel room in Rome, watching the early news and sipping hot cocoa. Currently, his clock reads 10 minutes to 6 and he have nothing else to do but wait. He's done packing his things for the game this season, which will be held in London.
"London…" he barely whispered. He dreaded going back to that city and he'd done a very nice job avoiding it so far. For the past years, he's been playing quidditch all over Europe and none of it took him to at least 50 miles away from London, in which he thanked the gods. 'Now don't be silly, no one will ever going to recognize you once you're there…' he thought as a matter of fact.
Harry found ways to conceal his scar and some helpful spell to change his appearance. He thought that if he's going to hide from everyone and start a new a life, its necessary for him to change his appearance.
The boy-who-lived who have adorably raven hair who, by the looks of it, has a mind of its own, his pink cherry lips, his alluring tanned skin which covered its slightly toned muscle. And of course his captivating emerald green eyes are some of his features that made him more famous and lovable by the people, along with his raged scar. But these features are no longer visible to Estefan Scott, save his tanned toned body and his cherry pink lips. The Harry Potter people knew is long gone but his feelings are still intact, especially for one certain Draco Malfoy.
Harry stood five feet and eleven inches tall, his unruly rave hair is now jet black, shoulder length and is pulled into a neat ponytail. Usually, when alone, he leaves it to flow but today, he felt like he needed air. But Harry's major change was the color of his eyes. His green captivating eyes is now hard and cold steel blue. It was a dark shade of blue with specs of silver in it in which he was pleased. His eyes reminded him of Draco, only Draco's eyes were silver with specs of blue in it.
"Charming…" he whispered. His television screen showed the interview of one of the hottest bloke all over the world. Draco Malfoy. Harry was once again on a dilemma, which is happening a lot more lately. He wanted to hear and see Draco Malfoy even from his television. Ironic really, 'So near, yet so far…' But on the other hand, he don't want to be reminded of the boy he didn't once love but still deeply in love with him. Besides, every time his eyelids drop, vision of the blonde start flowing, feeding his mind and body with images of the Slytherin. 'But…' Harry defended, 'I don't want to know anything about him…what if he's taken or married…worst---if Draco was married to a guy…'
Harry snorted. "Why Potter, can't handle a competition?" He knew the answer, if Draco has a wife or a girlfriend, he'll understand. He don't have to pity himself…it's a girl, they have something men don't have and guys have something they don't. But if Draco married some guy…that would stung, badly…someone much better that him and will not leave him like he did…' He knew he was being selfish. He doesn't have the right to claim Draco as his property. He left him and caused him pain.
"Well…if given a chance…I would like to be with him…all over again…"
~*~
Harry languidly glided straight to where his ticket told him. First class compartment, flight 100403 to London. Sighing, he settled down, facing the window. His teammates apparated yesterday. He wanted to take the plane for some reason unknown. 'And to avoid media.'
The steward's voice informed them that they were to settle down and fasten their seatbelt, which made Harry smirked. He remembered the first he rode a plane with Draco. They're on vacation, 6th year. The blonde was scared to death, not trusting the muggle invention. He have been on a fit when Harry told him that he should try riding a plane---"it would be fun…" He sniggered at the mental image of Draco pacing back and forth at the waiting area before boarding the plane. He remembered the words spilled from his lover perfectly---"Fun, Potter? This is Fun? I wonder exactly what you'll do for amusement and fun combined." He was on the verge of pointing out that amusement and fun are quite the same but caught himself.
Draco is gorgeous…and he's more gorgeous when he's mad and panicked cause he's cute. The Gryffindor snorted. 'Malfoy, cute? Yeah and Snape would be married to some muggle.' Harry smiled at the thought. 'Oh, but Draco is cute…and, well…Snape could very much marry a muggle. Maybe.'
~*~
Thirty minutes after the plane took off, Draco went to go find the bathroom. As he stood in front of one cubicle waiting, another opened from behind. He turned and he swore to god that his heart stopped beating. "Har---" but stopped. 'This is not Harry. Not Harry, not Harry…' he repeated to himself, although there is a nagging feeling that this is Harry.
Draco settled with "Sorry" and entered the cubicle behind the man quickly. Leaning on the door, he tried to calm himself, catching his breath. 'That couldn't be…' He argued. 'That's not Harry…it can't be…cause…' Draco closed his eyes, 'cause he's dead…isn't he?'
He walked to the sink and stared at the mirror. 'You bloody well know that he's not dead…' He sighed heavily. 'Right…maybe going to London is a bad thing…I haven't even reached the city yet!' He stared at his reflection then straight to his eyes, which was full of emotions…emotions that have died when Harry left him and now…now they're back…'but no Harry.'
'Draco, listen to yourself! He left you, admit it! Forget him already and move on!' He thought, not minding the pain, which seems to grow inside everytime he thinks of him. With that on mind, he left the safety of his cubicle, eyes cold, showing nothing in them. But inside, he knows. 'I still love him.'
~*~
As Harry went back to where he's seated, he calmly stated, well, as calmly as he could that he is no Harry Potter, he's Estefan Scott, seeker of Chudley Cannons. And that he's not recognizable by anyone. 'Right…' Sighing deeply, he thought of what just happened.
It really was quite a shock when he saw Draco in front of him. And he had to bite his tongue hard to stop himself pouncing on the blonde. 'You wish Potter. Pounce on him and you'll be in prison for an assault to one of the most gorgeous male known in Europe.' Dejectedly, he exhaled. Harry regretted his decision of not coming back to Draco, to his family, to his home. But it is better this way. 'He's over me. He doesn't love anymore.' He just have to snort inwardly. 'Of course he doesn't love you anymore. You left him without saying goodbye…but they think I'm dead, right?' The seeker pondered on that question for a while, thinking of some reason why they would think otherwise.
For the past years, he never thought of it. Hell, he never even thought of what had happened when he killed Voldemort. And he never knew why.
He love Draco, still and always will. The feelings for the other boy is undying and forever and it goes stronger as time passes by and seeing him standing in front of him, he ache for him more, for his touch, his soothing voice. He misses him so badly that it hurts. But Harry knew that this was his greatest consequence, consequence from his dreadful decision.
The Quidditch star saw the blonde walked back from the cubicle from the corner of his eyes. Their seats were aligned vertically and Draco was seated on the right side. 'So near…yet so far…' Harry smiled sadly. That irony really bites.
~*~
Throughout the whole flight, Draco remained seated, glancing sideways once in a while. He can't help himself. He knew that it is a possibility that he is Harry. His heart is beating rapidly inside him, he's out of breath and when their eyes meet, his insides flutter. 'Only Harry can make me feel this way…' He sighed heavily. 'Harry…what happened? Why did you have to leave?' He drowned another glass of champagne. 'I still love you, Harry…come back to me…'
To Be Continued…
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