A/N: My thanks to Georgia, giggles, Reese Craven and authoraisarete who encouraged me to continue. This chapter was really hard to write and if it hadn't been for the positive reviews (and the fact that chapters 3 & 4 were so much fun to write - yes they're already pretty much written) I might have given up on this story all together. I hope you like chapter 2 as much...
P.S. See if you can spot a children's tv character somewhere in this chapter!

Important note [1] For the non-Brits: pissed means drunk! [2] This is now PG-13.

Catch-up: Just to make sure we're all on the same page here: It's 2 years post-Hogwarts and Voldemort is dead. Harry hasn't abandoned magic but is living in the Muggle world, disguised as James Griffin to avoid the fame, etc. Hermione (Hetty) and Ron (Martin) are married (to each other!) and occasionally don Concealment Charms to meet up with Harry without him being recognised. His friends know he's gay but the wizarding population doesn't. Oh, and he's single. Phew. Okay, on with the story.

2. Daniel Milford.

"Evenin' Jamie, me lad. Pint?"
"Please, Barney," James said, taking a stool at the bar.
The barman placed his drink in front of him and James took a gulp, the tiredness in his muscles instantly melting away. James was a fireman and, although he loved his work, it was sometimes gruelling.

It was Thursday evening and James had stopped in at his local pub for a drink after finishing work for the day. The Fiddler's Elbow was a bit cramped (or cosy, if you were being charitable) but the atmosphere more than made up for its shortfalls. It wasn't themed like many of the pubs in the area, hadn't been turned into a pretentious wine bar and didn't cater to any particular group; anyone - young, old, straight, gay, rich or poor - was welcomed with open arms by the barman.

Barney was so perfectly suited to his job that you might easily believe his claim that he had been born behind these very two feet of wood. He knew the names of most of the people who passed through his doors and seemed to be able to sense when his clients felt like a laugh or a good conversation, and when they wanted to sit and think over a quiet pint. It wasn't unusual to hear Barney's customers joke that if only he was twenty years younger, or a little less straight...

"Gonna be a busy one tonight," Barney told him.
"Oh? Why's that?" James asked, hoping it wasn't kareoke night. If there was one thing he disliked about Muggle pubs it was kareoke.
"Pub Quiz. Always gets the punters in."
James nodded.

The barman excused himself as his attention was caught by another customer and James allowed his gaze to follow Barney to the other end of the bar. His customer was a slim, well-dressed man around James' age - maybe a year or two older - with light brown, almost blond, hair who ordered a shot of something with ice. James was sure he hadn't seen him before but he had the sort of face that looked familiar and James couldn't help noticing that he was very good looking. The man looked down the bar and James turned away, realising that he'd been staring.

The pub started to fill, Barney's regulars coming to compete in the weekly quiz and try to better their scores from the previous week in the hope of winning the first prize: a keg of beer. Harry forced himself to concentrate on his drink for a while before he looked back. The man looked around at the same moment and they made eye contact, which lasted a second longer than it should have, before James broke it.

James was coming to the end of his beer and decided that he would work up the courage to buy the other man a drink. He didn't know why the thought of this made his so nervous; it wasn't the first time he'd done it. He glanced over, but the bar stool that the man had been sitting at was now empty. He'd waited too long. Disappointed, James turned back and swirled the dregs of his beer round in the bottom of his glass, contemplating the walk home.

"Can I get you another one?" a voice asked from behind him.
James turned and found himself face to face with the man he'd been eyeing.
"Unless, of course, you'd rather stare at an empty glass?"
"Another beer would be good," James said, trying not to grin. The stranger was even better looking close up.
The man ordered and sat down next to him.
"I'm Dan," he said, holding out a hand which James happily shook.
"James. Thanks for the beer."
"You're welcome, although I don't know how anyone can stand the stuff myself."
James smiled. He understood only too well; having grown up with Butterbeer, the Muggle version really couldn't compare.
"Acquired taste," he admitted.

They got talking and, in the time it took for James to drink his pint, discovered that neither of them could drive, that they shared the same taste in music and that between them they could only name two of Britain's political parties, which they decided was both sad and funny at the same time.

"Quiz starts in five minutes, ladies and gents," Barney announced.
"Oh no," Dan complained, "I can't stand these things, can you?"
"They're a step up from kareoke but I never do very well in them."
If the questions were on anything from the last two years he was okay, but he didn't know much about Muggle music or TV before then. The Dursleys hadn't exactly indulged him.

"Do you fancy finding another pub?" Dan asked.
Deciding that they were getting on well, and after the incident earlier in the evening when he thought he'd missed his chance, James decided to go out on a limb.
"Actually, I only live just round the corner. I think I've got a bottle of whiskey... if you're interested?"
To James' joy, Dan smiled.
"I knew there was something about you; I can always tell a whiskey drinker. Sounds good."
"Great," James said, putting on his jacket and trying to remember where he'd put the whiskey that he'd won in a raffle at his work's party the Christmas before last.

James wasn't used to drinking spirits and it must have shown. Dan smirked.
"You know, I'm not sure that whiskey's done you much good. You don't look well. Maybe someone ought to put you to bed?"
With a great deal of concentration, James managed to not choke on his drink.
"And who do you suggest does that?" he asked in what he hoped was a casual voice.
Dan moved closer and put his hand on James' thigh.
"Seeing as there's no-one else about, I suppose it'll have to be me."

James opened his mouth to say something put found that it had been commandeered for another use. Dan's warm, whiskey-soaked lips were pressed against his, his tongue starting to explore, and his hand was travelling up James' inner thigh. James moaned and reached to pull him closer, his hands resting in Dan's hair.

Suddenly and inexplicably, Dan pulled away.
"So, where is it?" he asked huskily.
"What?"
"I think I was putting you to bed?"
"Oh."
James wondered how it was that Dan had caused his brain to stop functioning with just one kiss. He stood, taking Dan's hand, and led him to his bedroom.

Dan drew him into a kiss and James started to unbutton Dan's shirt, whilst Dan pulled his t-shirt over his head. James ran his fingers over Dan's waist and up his back. Dan pulled away sharply, with a strange smile on his face.
"What?"
"Nothing," Dan said, initiating another kiss.
Almost as soon as James laid his hands on Dan again he started laughing.
"What?" James asked again. "Are you pissed or something?"
"No. It's not my fault that I have sensitive skin."
It took James a couple of seconds to work out what he was talking about.
"You're ticklish?"
"No," Dan said defensively.
James ran his finger down Dan's side and watched as he tried to keep a straight face. This time it was James' turn to laugh.
"And who says blondes have more fun?" James said as he went to kiss him again.
Dan looked at him strangely.
"What?"
James smiled and shook his head. "Nothing."
"You said something about blondes."
"It's nothing... just... I normally go for blondes and I said 'who says blondes have more fun?'."
"Oh."
James wondered if he'd offended him.
"So, what's your type?"
Dan hesitated, as if he were about to divulge his greatest secret.
"Green eyes. I like green eyes."
"Really? I have -" James stopped himself just in time, but then he had an idea. "- green contacts. I wear green contact lenses sometimes."
"Do you?"
James nodded. "I'll be back in a second."

Before James had to time to think about what he was doing or why, he had locked himself in the bathroom and had taken his wand from its hiding place. He looked into the mirror, at the face reflected back at him; the face he knew but which wasn't really his own.

As quietly as he could, James cast a charm to reveal the true colour of his eyes. The green was brighter than he remembered and he found himself transfixed, realising that he hadn't seen his features without the Concealment Charm's subtle distortions for almost six months. The last time had been the week over Christmas that he'd spent with the Weasleys.

There was a knock on the bathroom door.
"Have you fallen asleep in there or something?"
"I'll be out in a second."

James wondered briefly why he was risking exposure for someone he'd only known for a few hours. It was true that Dan was attractive and they had a lot in common - something he found wasn't always the case with Muggle men - but there was something else. It was the ease with which they talked, the playful banter they'd slipped into - a sort of familiarity, as if they'd known each other for years.

With a final glance in the mirror, James hid his wand and left the bathroom.
"So, what d'you reckon?" James asked.
Dan was staring.
"Dan?"
Instead of replying Dan pulled him into an enthusiastic kiss.

A phone was ringing. James opened his eyes as he felt a weight shift next to him and saw Dan get up and start rummaging amongst the clothes spread across the floor. Underneath his shirt he found a mobile.

"Daniel Milford."

Dan sat down on the edge of the bed and gripped the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he put the shirt on, not bothering to do up the buttons.

"No, I don't think so," Dan was saying to the person on the other end of the line.

Mentally, James swore. He should have known it was too good to be true. He'd thought that there was something between them. Who had he been trying to fool? He decided he'd been too easy. If he hadn't slept with Dan last night he wouldn't be getting the 'Sorry, I have to leave' phone call stunt this morning.

"Well, when was it due to arrive?"

James hated one night stands. He'd only been the object of one before but it had left him feeling rejected and he'd decided never to do it again.

"Okay, well, phone the suppliers and see if they can shift something around, and if that doesn't work, ring Belfast to see if they can spare anything."

James should have recognised that Dan wasn't the relationship type; he was just too attractive to be tied down to one man. He wondered why he'd bothered to reveal a part of his true appearance if it was just going to be forgotten in a day or two.

"Yes ... and if not, ring John ... okay ... bye."

Dan hung up and turned to face James.
"Sorry to wake you up at-" (he looked at his phone) "six-thirty. Emergency at work."
"Right. So I suppose you have to go, then?" James said in a toneless voice.
"No, it's okay; I think I sorted it... Unless you want me to?"
James smiled and berated himself for being paranoid.
"You know, I'm not convinced I found all your ticklish spots last night."
"I am not ticklish."
"Are we going to have this argument again?" James asked, mock sternly.
Dan smirked.
"I hope so."

When quarter past eight arrived James decided that he couldn't delay the inevitable any longer; he was going to have to get out of bed; as it was, he was almost certainly going to be late. He tried to take his arm from under Dan without waking him but didn't succeed.
"Sorry," he whispered. "I've got to get ready for work."
Dan groaned and turned over.

By the time James had showered, dressed and changed his 'contacts', Dan was a little more awake.
"Bathroom's through there. I'm making coffee and bacon sandwiches if you want some?"
Dan nodded and James made a mental note that he wasn't really much of a morning person.

They had breakfast then James started looking for his keys.
"So, you're throwing me out, then?" Dan said.
"Yep. I was supposed to be at work five minutes ago. There's nothing to say you can't come back, though," he added hopefully.
Dan looked at him as if searching for something. "Do you know the Thai restaurant on Harris Street?" he asked.
"No, but I'm sure I could find it."
Dan smiled. "I'll make a reservation. Eight o'clock tomorrow?"
"Sounds good."
Despite what had happened between them last night, James suddenly felt about fifteen again and swallowed nervously. Fortunately Dan made the first move and kissed him.
"I'll leave you to find your keys. See you tomorrow."
James nodded and watched him leave.

Once the door had clicked shut James sat down and grinned, a childish excitement spreading though his veins. He caught sight of the kitchen clock and remembered that he was running twenty minutes late for work. He stood up again, found his keys under a tea-towel and went to catch the bus.

The lads at work that day kept teasing him about the stupid grin on his face and James was thankful that he had forgotten to get Dan's phone number, as he was sure he would have managed to embarrass himself somehow if he hadn't.

James and his colleagues had just finished a drill and were sitting down to lunch when a loud alarm started to sound. The table let out a collective groan and scraped back their chairs to stand just as someone ran into the room with a strip of paper clutched in his hand.
"It's a Griffin special," the man announced cheerfully.
James rolled his eyes as his colleagues laughed.

Somehow James had got himself a bit of a reputation at the fire station. He made sure that he was in the thick of things and always took the riskiest jobs, knowing that he had his wand and a potential Freezing Charm in the invisible pocket of his protective clothing. He was also renowned for his love of heights. The thing he was best known for though, and the thing his friends loved to tease him about most of all, was his skill with cats stuck up trees. For some reason the felines seemed to trust him. James didn't mind that he had become green watch's unofficial cat-saviour. He always imagined that it was Professor McGonagall, stuck in her animagus form and unable to get down.

The shout put Dan out of James' head until he was back at the station taking a shower. Although James wasn't as frivolous with his relationships as Hetty made out, it was true that he hadn't managed to find anyone special yet. Could Dan be that person?

James shook his head. He'd known Dan less that 24 hours. He shouldn't be building his hopes up like this. As Martin had once told him, he'd find someone one day and there wasn't much point worrying about it until then. James did worry though. What if there was something wrong with him? What if the way he was brought up made him incapable of love? What if everyone he met could somehow tell that he was famous and that was why they liked him?

"You know, you won't grow any taller, no matter how much you water yourself, Griffin."
James laughed and ducked his head round the shower curtain to throw his flannel at his friend, Sam. He missed. There was a good reason he'd been a Seeker and not a Chaser.

Dan popped in and out of James's thoughts all day and James was grateful that it was a quiet day; one cat up a tree, one false alarm at the university halls and a small chip fat fire, which they managed to control before it caused any serious damage. At the end of his shift James went home to sleep. He was working the night shift from Monday and he wasn't going to get much sleep on Saturday night - hopefully.

James spent almost an hour getting ready on Saturday - nearly twice as long as usual. He even tried briefly to get his hair to sit flat, but in the end he gave up. If a Concealment Charm (which was supposed to lessen the effects of your most distinctive features) couldn't get his hair to behave then he had no chance of doing so without magic.

He started to feel nervous. What if they didn't get on? Would there be awkward silences over their green curry? Maybe Dan wouldn't even turn up. James seriously considered Apparating to Martin and Hetty's to ask if they had a Calming Draught.

The Lemongrass was quite an upmarket restaurant in a nice part of town. It wasn't snobby but James was glad that he'd taken care over his appearance. He needn't have worried about Dan not showing; he was already sitting at a table in the corner by the time he arrived.

Dan stood up to greet him.
"Hi. You found it okay, then?"
"Yeah, one of my workmates lives a few streets away. It looks nice."
"Actually, I've never been here before either. Someone recommended it to me."
They sat down.
"Have you been waiting long?"
Dan shook his head. "No. I was about to order a drink though. Would you like a Singha or something?"
"That'll be fine."

Dan ordered with effortless charm but James was surprised to see that Dan's hand shook ever so slightly as he held his menu. He'd seemed so confident when they'd met the other night. Dan must have caught him looking as he gave a nervous smile.
"I don't really go on many official dates," he admitted, somewhat reluctantly James thought. "Ask me to organise a banquet for 650 people at a day's notice and I'm fine but this..."
James smiled.
"Actually, I'm not keen on official dates either. My friends forced me to go on a blind date once," James said, remembering the first time he'd been out with a man. Martin and Hetty had set him up. "It was awful. I almost became a hermit." Dan smiled. "How about we say we're not on a date? We're just two blokes having something to eat."
Dan nodded. "I think I can manage that."

As the evening wore on they both relaxed and chatted away enthusiastically. James was pleased to realise at the end of the evening that there had been no awkward moments. Their time had flown by too quickly, if anything. They ended up at James' flat again and he was glad that neither of them had work to go to the next day.

Meeting Dan became something of a regular occurance. Strangely enough, Dan always seemed to be in the area when James phoned to ask if he was free. As they got to know each other, James couldn't help but notice the charm and elegance that Dan was projected whenever they were out. Waitresses loved him. James didn't mind and felt sort of privileged that he was allowed to see this facade drop a little when they were alone together. He was actually rather excited at this revelation, especially as it became clear that, whilst Dan wasn't inexperienced, he was even less worldly wise than James when it came to relationships.

Dan was a bit of an enigma. He liked to talk about his family even less than James did and, although he obviously had expensive taste and dressed impeccably, he lived in a bedsit, which James had only been allowed to visit once. Dan told him that he had a bigger apartment in Dublin, where he was actually based, but spoke almost wistfully of the big house he was going to live in one day.

Harry had never been one to throw his money around and Dan occasionally gave less-than-subtle hints that they were going to have to go shopping sometime soon. Curiously enough, though, he never said anything about James' favourite t-shirt - a tatty, old thing, which James was particularly fond of because it was the same colours his quidditch robes had been.

The only issue that really caused any problems were his contact lenses. Although Dan obviously liked them, he always seemed a little nervous - guilty almost - about asking James to wear them. James didn't mind, though. They were his own eyes, after all and it pleased him to know that his boyfriend was turned on by his eyes, not James'.

However, it wasn't always that simple. One Sunday morning they decided to go out for brunch. They were almost out the door when James happened to glance at himself in the mirror.
"Damn. I forgot to take my contacts out. I'll only be a minute."
He made to go to the bathroom but Dan caught his elbow.
"Just leave them in. Come on."
"No, I..."
James never left the flat without the full Concealment Charm in place. Dark magic no longer posed any real threat but Harry had become so used to hiding that it had made him a little paranoid. Besides, the last thing he needed was for someone to come up to him in the street to thank him or tell him that they loved him. It had happened before and was difficult to explain away, not to mention embarrassing.
"They um, they make my eyes itch if I keep them in. I'll only be a second."
Dan looked a little... hurt? Disappointed? James ignored it and went to lock himself in the bathroom and reverse the spell. James suspected that Dan was worried he'd offended him and he made sure to hold his hand as they walked to their favourite cafe. By the time they'd ordered, the incident was forgotten and they were chatting as usual.

Although James found it easy to be around Dan, he had to constantly remind himself to hold his tongue, for fear of letting slip something about the world to which he belonged. It was so frustrating. James wanted to explain how great flying felt - or even better, show him. When Dan told him how inspirational his Business Studies teacher had been, James wanted to tell him how powerful his headmaster had been and how biased his Potions master's treatment was. When Dan took him to an art gallery James was bursting to tell him that the reason he knew nothing about impressionism was because his school had been more interested in teaching them how to use their Inner eye than their outer one.

Of course, James did tell him these things, just with a slight twist. With this, came the realisation that, whereas with previous boyfriends it had been an irritation to stretch the truth (Astronomy becoming Physics, his beloved Hedwig becoming an ordinary childhood pet), with Dan he found that he actually wanted to share theses experiences with him. He needed to be able to tell him - or even better, show him - how great it felt to fly, soaring above the trees and the castle that had been his home. He wanted Dan to know that if he ever had the need to produce a Patronous in the future it would be that afternoon last week that they'd spent in each other's company, just lazing around and doing nothing in particular that would provide the happiest memory.

Harry fought to contain a sigh. If only Dan knew about magic; it would all be so much simpler...

To be continued...

In chapter 3: You know that Muggle saying that warns "be careful what you wish for"? Poor Harry's about to find out all about it...

A/N: Well, this chapter had me pulling my hair out for weeks (I'm almost bald now!). You have no idea how long it took me to decide what sort of Muggle job Harry would choose. And when I did I wrote this whole scene about him being a fireman that I had to cut out. Grrr. Maybe I'll do an out-take later? Anyway, now that you finally have chapter 2, I would greatly appreciate any feedback - comments, compliments or (constructive) criticisms that you can spare me.
Anyone who's been reading my other fics - expect an update on Complexities of Friendship and possibly a one-shot within the next week or so, assuming all goes well. Until the next chapter,
myrtille et mure
xxx