Starting Over (1/?)
Main Pairing: HP-LM
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
22-year old Harry Potter held up a dark blue, short-sleeved, button down shirt and a fitted black t-shirt. "Oliver, which one do you like? The blue one? or the black shirt?" he asked the bouncy four year old boy standing on his bed. "That one!" He answered energetically, pointing to the black shirt. Throwing the rejected shirt back into his closet, Harry slipped the shirt over his head and picked his son up off the bed.
For Harry, Oliver's birth was both joyous and tragic. Oliver Wood, his lover since he was sixteen, had died giving birth to their son just after the war had ended. Oliver was the perfect mix of both parents. He had Harry's dark hair and olive colouring with Oliver's slender body structure and slightly feminine facial features. His eyes were hazel with just a bit more green to them. It would still be a few years until Harry could tell who he was more like, personality wise.
Harry took a small, denim jacket for Oliver and a black, 3/4 jacket for himself. "Are you going to be a good boy this time?" The toddler nodded, sucking on his thumb. "And you promise not to give your Auntie Ginny and Uncle Dean a hard time?" He nodded. He took the keys from the hook by the door, locked up the house and walked outside to the white 1999 Jetta parked in front of the townhouse.
Thirty minutes later, Harry had dropped Oliver off with Dean and Ginny and was headed to, at the insistence of most of his friends, a club. Though he wanted to leave, Harry forced himself to walk over to the bar and at least order a drink.
Two apple martinis later, The-Boy-Who-Lived was actually loosening up and enjoying himself. Another drink after that and Harry didn't know what he was doing and decided to leave.
Just as he was leaving for the coat check, he felt the firm grip of a decidedly male hand on his upper arm and turned around. "Let me buy you a drink?" The man shouted near his ear. "I-I don't think so." He replied, shaking his head not even looking up at the other person. "Coffee, then?" He offered as Harry looked up at him. He realised that they were almost the same height and that this stranger had beautiful pale blue eyes and faintly highlighted, blond, short-ish hair that made him seem young and playful. Something about this man mad Harry's heart quicken and it wasn't just his stunning good looks. It was something deeper than that. Harry looked him over, admiring the man's choice of clothing. He wore a simple, cotton bluish-grey button down over a black, short sleeved shirt and smooth, black slacks that hugged all the right places. Hesitantly, Harry agreed and was lead off to the coat check then down the block.
"Where are we going?" Harry asked, thinking that this stranger seemed very familiar, he just didn't know from where. They walked another block before the blond responded.
"Here." Harry looked at him with a rather surprised expression. They were standing outside the Leaky Cauldron. "Yes." Harry smiled and walked in, choosing a table off in a secluded corner.
It was a nagging feeling at the back of his mind that kept trying to place where he knew this person from. He took a moment to study the man sitting across from him. He was older, he knew that for sure, but he didn't think he could be that much older. And he had to admit that he was attractive, not to mention, well dressed. There was also something the blond wasn't telling him. Harry was so caught up in trying to place where he knew him from that he didn't hear the man's question.
"I asked you, Do you have a name?"
"Har- James. My name is James."
"Well, then, James, it's been lovely but I must be going."
Harry was a bit disappointed but let it go. "Sure." "James, wait." The other called. Harry turned around and grinned as the blonde's mouth descended on his. The kiss was over before it even began and left both wanting more. Without even a word, Harry turned and walked to his car.
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