Coincidences

Draco stared at the roses. They were slowly driving him insane. Who? The question had circled round in his head all night and now into the morning. There weren't any real potential suspects. Since he'd been scarred, he hadn't had one single encounter. Not that he blamed them, but men seemed to be turned off by his face.

He thought of all of the beautiful men. Perfect faces and forms. They all stared at him with a certain disgust in their eyes, and a fake acceptance on their faces. He always got the feeling that if he wasn't the man they were trying to impress, he would have been beneath their notice or worse the subject to their ridicule. If one of them sent the flowers, he was bound to want something from Draco. Anger coursed through him. In that second, he hated them all—the whole fucking industry. It had always struck him as ironic that he had chosen a business that based itself on vanity, and in the end, he knew he could not blame them. It bothered him most because he wanted more than anything to let them know that—once, he would have been their equal, if not better. He had been just as beautiful as they were.

Picking up the phone, he dialed Chantay's number. "Hello?" a groggy voice answered on the other end.

"Good morning, sunshine," he said with forced cheeriness. The last thing he needed was Chantay spending the day trying to get him to open up.

"Draco, it's 6:30 in the morning, can't it wait until we're in the office?" He heard a groan and pictured Chantay sprawled out in bed in boxers and a t-shirt.

"I'm not coming in today."

"WHAT? Are you okay? I'm coming just give me ten minutes!" she told him frantically. He could hear the sound of the bedclothes hitting the floor.

"I'm fine, Chantay. Honestly, I just would like to take a day and relax," he lied.

"Relax? You?"

As he rubbed his temples, it became harder and harder to keep his annoyance from leaking through. "Everyone needs a day here and there, Chantay."

"Fine! If you're not going to tell me, I'm going back to bed."

"Goodnight," he said just as he heard a click.

Draco laid on the couch for a moment trying to quell the damning voices in his head. There was no use. He knew that he needed the noise of New York to drown out the demons. Throwing on a black overcoat and heading out the door, he didn't take the time to pull back his hair or change into nicer clothes. Chantay would be horrified, and that's one of the reasons he didn't want her around today. He didn't have the energy to keep up any facades. On his way out the door, he gave a congenial nod to the door man and turned down the offered cab. He wanted to wander the city on his own. The things he saw and heard always gave him something to think about. It seemed that there was always some kind of distraction.

After only half an hour of roaming the sidewalks, Draco ducked inside a familiar little coffee shop. He'd been coming here for sometime now, and everyone was used to his pensive moods. The young man behind the counter smiled at him. Alex was eighteen or nineteen with perfectly groomed, honey curls and large brown eyes. On his better visits, Draco and Alex would talk about Alex's boyfriend or his homophobic parents, but today Draco just wasn't in the right frame of mind. "How's it going?" Alex asked setting aside a copy of The Hitchhikers Guide To the Galaxy.

"Not bad. I'm in the mood for something different today," he said shifting the topic. Coffee was impersonal.

"Hot or cold?"

"Hot. Something sweet." Draco ignored what Alex told him and simply paid for the drink, before rushing to HIS table in the back corner. He sipped the disgustingly chocolaty drink and watched the influx of New Yorkers at the counter.

People watching had become one of Draco's first hobbies after leaving the hospital. He had sat at the window of the flat he shared with Hermione for hours on end watching as people filed by. They were always interesting to him. So much shown through in their clothes, and faces. The way they moved spoke volumes. Customers came and went in a matter of minutes. Some of them were far too busy or too disconnected to notice anything about their surroundings. Others studied the place with a kind of nervous glance. Draco pitied on young girl who so pathetically flaunted herself for Alex. The boy sent a helpless gaze at Draco so needy that he found he couldn't ignore it.

"A friend of yours, Alex?" she asked as Draco strode up beside her.

"Um…yeah, Tamora I'd like you to meet Draco Michaels, he's one of our best customers. Draco, this is Tamora Grabe, I used to work in her dad's floral shop."

The girl studied his scars for only the briefest second before extending her hand with a warm smile. "Oh, I know who you are!"

Draco almost laughed as he glanced down at the girl's attire. He highly doubted she followed fashion. "You've heard of our company? I'm flattered."

"Your company? No, I can't say I have, but I know you got flowers yesterday."

Draco gasped. "The flowers came from your fathers business?"

"Yep, yellow roses if I remember right. Your boyfriend must really have done something to be sorry for. But you two seem kind of a mismatch to me. I mean you're Rico Suave and he's all blue collar. Opposites attract, so they say. Sooo, did you forgive him?"

All he could do was stare at the excitable girl for a moment. By the time, Draco digested all of that and managed to shut his gaping mouth, she was impatiently waiting for details. "Actually, I wasn't sure who sent them. Would you happen to know who he is? I wouldn't want to thank the wrong person," the lie rolled off his lips easily—he could probably thank his lineage for that.

"I don't remember his name, but I do remember what he looked like," she said helpfully, but then a smile that Salazar Slytherine himself would have delighted in crossed her face. "Hmm, you know my dad wouldn't appreciate me giving out customer information."

Pasting on a fake smile. "Oh, why don't you and I chat for a while and you can decide if I'm worthy of that trust? Alex," he said handing the boy his half finished mug. "Pour that out for me and make me a soy latte with hazelnut. I'll buy whatever Tamora would like, too."

Alex's face was a cross between confusion and utter disbelief that Draco would play into such an obvious ploy. "Uh, sure thing, man."

Once settled back into Draco's table and away from prying ears, Draco assessed his opponent. She was younger than Alex—sixteen or so—and slightly plump with long reddish hair and unremarkable blue eyes. Not pretty in the least, but not what you would call ugly. Her outfit was a disaster, and plastic rimmed cat-glasses sat on her face. "So, you've known Alex for a long time?" he asked testing the waters.

She took a sip of her chai and nodded. "He was two years ahead of me in school. I'm kind of skipping today."

"You know, if you want me to help you out with Alex, it isn't possible, because he's…."

"Gay?" She laughed. "I know. I just like to torture him because he's so funny when he squirms. He should have told me a long time ago—I mean what if I'd really had feelings for him?"

She was intelligent, he'd give her that. He sighed. "So what exactly do you want?"

"I want what every woman wants…details. I tell you what Mr. Romance looks like and if you know him, you tell me why he's so sorry." She looked honest enough about her interest. "Look, I see a lot of people in and out of the shop all the time. Everybody's got a reason for sending the flowers that they do, but his seemed deeper. When he came in, he asked me what type of flower to send when your really sorry for something. I don't know why, but he looked like he really means it."

His mouth was dry. "Fine, I'll give you what details I can."

Tamora nodded. "He had the shaggy black hair, and glasses over really green eyes. Too thin for as a tall as he was, almost kind of sickly looking. And there was a scar on his forehead that looked kind of funny kind of like a…."

"Lightining bolt," he finished. His head swam. My God, Harry. Was it possible? How could he be alive? Why hadn't he come to him?

"Are you okay?"

"Tamora, please. You have to find me a name," he begged. His throat was so tight he could barely get the words to pass through. "I need to know."

She seemed taken aback by his plea. "We'd have to go the shop, but I'm pretty sure he is in our database."

Instantly, Draco had his coat on and was waiting at the door for her. Giving him a sad glance, she said quietly. "Something tells me this isn't going to be a happy story."

Time had never moved as fast as it did that day. So many thoughts and theories buzzed through his mind at an uncontrollable pace. Harry was alive. Harry had sent him roses. Didn't he care about him anymore? But he had sent him roses to say that he was sorry, didn't that prove that he at least felt something? Why was Harry so sorry? For leaving?

As the door bell rang at Grabe's Floral Shop, an older man looked up at them. "Tammy, damn it! This is the fifth time this month. You'll be lucky if you graduate at all, let alone go to college. Why can't you get your ass in school?"

"Dad! Not now, please. I've got something I really need to take care of. I need the computer," she told him as she swept by him.

Draco was a half step behind, and didn't escape the man's notice. "What the hell have you gotten my daughter into?"

"Please, sir, I need to know who sent me flowers. You have no idea how important this is."

The man nodded. "But let me tell you somethin'—you find out that he doesn't want to be found, don't you dare tell him you got his information from us."

"I swear I won't say a word."

In the office, Tamora pounded away at the keys. Pulling out a pen and paper, she read off of the screen. "Hmmmm…here we go. James Black."

His heart was doing sommersaults as she held up the paper. "I want a full rundown of everything by Friday."

"Thank you." He pulled her into a hug and kissed her cheek. Before sprinting to the door. He was going to find Harry and he was going to get answers