You know the drill by now.

Thanks to all that reviewed! M'Lady - I can assure you that Draco is just as good-looking as ever ;) It might take Harry a little longer to realize it, though. As for if they've met or not, they haven't seen each other since Hogwarts, and as for how they'll react... Well... This chapter explains it :)

As I've said before, I know things probably seem a little choppy right now, but I promise they should pull together within the next few chapters. Look forward to a more mature Harry and Draco in this chapter, although they still have their tendencies to forget that they're not teenagers anymore, and they can still grate each other's nerves without even trying (but that's more evident in upcoming chapters :) )

And I also want to encourage all of you to read my first one-shot, Happy Christmas, Scarhead. It's up now and I've gotten some really positive feedback. So please check it out! It's just a little bit of Harry!Draco fluff. Thanks! Enjoy this chapter :D


Chapter 2

Chasing you around the room is tempting
So near and far away from meaning anything to you

Sitting before Harry Potter was the one person he had not expected to ever see again, and he almost didn't believe that he was truly seeing correctly. Still, his eyes were not mistaken–the silver-blonde hair, the grey irises that had always reminded Harry of the sky during a thunderstorm. He was much older, and his infamous sneer was replaced with a look of surprise, but Harry was absolutely positive that he was seeing Draco Malfoy.

"Potter," replied Draco quickly, partially instinctual and also through force. Draco sat very far back in his chair. "I–Well, what brings you here?" His tone was not as arrogant as Harry remembered, but it was far from friendly. Harry still hadn't wiped the smirk from off his face. Draco proved during seventh year that he was not a Death Eater after refusing to receive the Dark Mark. He had never actually pledged loyalty to the Order, but as long as he wasn't on the side of the enemy, Harry was able to muster a small amount of respect for him.

"I'm renting a room," Harry answered. Draco paused, and muttered something along the lines of "I see." Harry leaned back in his chair also, and raised an eyebrow at Draco questioningly.

"So am I," Draco said finally. He cleared his throat and stood quickly. "I'll find another table." He hadn't moved, but still stood, staring down at Harry. Harry glanced around the room. He had no idea where Draco was supposed to sit otherwise–the Leaky Cauldron was always packed during this time of the afternoon. Harry rolled his eyes, fetching his wand from his pocket and flicked it at Draco's chair. It slid forward, tripping Draco into falling back down onto it. Harry turned his eyes to the pieces of parchment in front of him and proceeded to shuffle them a bit more before placing them into an envelope.

"You might as well stay here unless you plan to go to another bar entirely," he suggested, still keeping his gaze focused on his envelope. "We're not in Hogwarts anymore, you know. We don't have to hate each other." He then looked directly into Draco's eyes, challenging him to retort. Draco only changed the subject.

"What were you looking at?" he asked. Harry rested his arm on top of the envelope and tilted his head slightly the side–a mannerism he had picked up from Sirius.

"Just some documents," replied Harry. He lifted his bottle of butterbeer and placed it to his lips, taking a small sip before setting it back on the table. "For work," he added.

"Ah," Draco said, throwing an amused glance at Harry. "I hear you're an Auror these days. It seems to me that you've grown attached to the thrill of being a marked man." Harry snorted softly.

"Once you've almost been killed by Voldemort–"

"Several times."

"Right. Well, after all of that, living a safe lifestyle becomes rather boring." And it was true. Harry had lived his entire life with the threat of being murdered, and he knew that becoming an Auror always left that threat open again. "It's worth it, though. If I can rid the world of dark magic, then putting myself in danger is a small price to pay." Draco rolled his eyes.

"Potter, are you ever going to drop the hero routine?" he asked, somewhat jokingly, but clearly he meant it. "It never ceases to amaze me how you hold the lives of everyone else with such high esteem, but care so little about your own." Harry smiled.

"This is why I wasn't placed in Slytherin," he said, nodding slightly toward Draco before taking another sip of his butterbeer. Draco smirked in return. Harry continued, "You know, Dumbledore told me once that the most important thing about a man is the choices he makes. The Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, but I chose Gryffindor. Think that means something?" Draco paused, as if he was actually contemplating this.

"I think it means you're a bit of a prat."

"Is that your expert opinion?" Harry asked. Draco only continued to smirk. Once Harry had learned that Draco was not a supporter of Voldemort, he somehow found him tolerable. Of course, Draco would always be an arrogant prig, but Harry didn't hate him. He almost found his overconfidence to be amusing. Harry sat up straight in his chair. "So, what are you doing these days?"

"I'm between jobs, if that's what you mean," Draco stated simply.

"Really?" Harry asked with sarcastic inquisitiveness. "I imagine you must work very hard after inheriting the entire Malfoy fortune. Or at least, that's only what I'm told."

"You'd be surprised," Draco replied. "Where do you live anyway, Potter? I haven't seen you around for years."

"Have you been looking for me?" Harry asked. Draco narrowed his eyes. Harry chuckled and leaned back again in his chair. "Most of the year, I live outside of London. It's becoming more of a vacation home these days, seeing as I haven't been there in almost a month. And where are you living?"

"Malfoy Manor . . . " Draco said with a questioning air, as if he wasn't sure why Harry would assume otherwise.

"Oh. I was only wondering because you said you were renting a room here."

"I did?" Draco asked. He hesitated for a moment. "Oh. Right. Well, it's being renovated." Harry paused.

"I thought the Manor was destroyed during the war," he said. Draco rolled his eyes at Harry's thought.

"Thus why it's being renovated." Harry's eyes darted back and forth for a moment.

"But that was years–" he began to state, but Draco cut him off.

"Whatever happened to Granger and Weasel? Did they finally get hitched?" asked Draco. Harry hadn't actually heard the question, as he all of a sudden became very confused.

"What?" he asked. Draco repeated himself. "Oh, yeah, actually. In the spring." Draco nodded. Harry lifted his bottle of butterbeer to his lips once more.

"That figures. They were always so stupid around each other. I can't imagine what it would have been like to be in a house with them. And you?" Draco asked. Harry paused with the liquid in his mouth before swallowing.

"What, am I married?" Harry laughed at the question before giving his actual answer. "No. No, I'm not. It's unlikely I'll find anyone who will be comfortable with my lack of being home." He cast his eyes down at the table and smiled softly to himself before glancing back up at Draco. There was something very sad about his smile. "I come with too much baggage, I think." To this, Draco shrugged.

"Love is only a distraction, I've always said."

"That's a wise assessment," Harry agreed. "Sometimes it's a welcome distraction, though."

"Maybe for you, Potter," Draco said. "I find life is much easier to manage when you're only looking after yourself. When did you become so sentimental?" Harry ignored him.

"I always thought you'd wind up with Pansy Parkinson," he said. Draco snorted, then turned very serious.

"Please, Potter. Don't degrade me. I wasn't kind to her by choice, you know. She just happened to have an influential family. Malfoys only associate with families of that sort." Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Perhaps you really should have found another table to sit then. I don't think my family line is up to par with the Malfoys," Harry said flatly.

"Oh, shut up, Potter," Draco spat. "Don't be so sensitive. I didn't realize you took anything I said to heart," he said, the arrogant twinge returning to his tone. Harry sighed.

"Malfoy, I spent seven years taking everything you said to heart," Harry answered truthfully. Draco seemed unfazed by this.

"Then why didn't you tell me to bugger off?" he asked.

"I did, every day. It seemed you didn't take anything to heart, unless it dealt with endangering your life. And I very well couldn't threaten to curse you every time you humiliated me."

"You should have. Then maybe we wouldn't be having this conversation now." Harry laughed, and shook his head.

"What?" asked Draco.

"It's just . . . uncanny how after all these years, you're still an emotionless git," he replied. Draco narrowed his eyes before rolling them.

"It's good to see you still have your sense of humor," he said in an annoyed tone. Harry leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and leaning his chin on his hands.

"Now who's being sensitive?" Harry asked. Draco glared at Harry with his smoky eyes.

"I can't piss you off anymore, can I?"

"I'm sure you could," Harry said. "It's just a bit more of a challenge than it used to be. Sorry if I've taken away your last remaining pleasure."

"Don't worry, Potter. You're not that important to me."

"That's a relief," Harry said with a grin. Harry glanced at his wristwatch to check the time. It was 4:00. Harry sighed, and stood from the table. "I have to go. I'm meeting Ron and Hermione. Besides, I have to work on this case anyway." Draco stood also.

"What's this case about?" he asked. Harry pulled on his cloak, shoving the envelope in one of his cloak pockets.

"Nothing important," he lied. "I'm not at liberty to say. I doubt you'd be able to help, anyway." Malfoy blinked once.

"You're right," he said. "And I've got to be getting back to counting my Galleons." He held out his hand to shake Harry's. Harry was vaguely reminded of the first time Draco ever held his hand out to Harry, after warning him not to make friends with the wrong sort. Harry slowly reached out his own hand, taking Draco's and shaking it firmly.

"I'll see you around," said Harry. Draco nodded.

"Take care of yourself, Potter," he said. Harry turned his back on Draco and headed out of the bar. He was beginning to think this would be a very strange day.


Please R/R!