Three Years Later

International portkey never failed to make Draco ill, which was convenient, in an ironic way, as the toilet was where he needed to go in order to enter the United States without a passport. Unlike wizarding Europe, America was quite strict on who they'd allow into their country. But as Draco didn't want to leave a trail, he couldn't register his presence.

Unwrapping a piece of chocolate, Draco bit into the restorative treat to settle his stomach. He dropped his portkey, a broken hand mirror, into the used portkeys bin and strode to the toilet.

"You want the last stall on the left," Mundungus Fletcher told Draco. They, along with Mad-eye Moody, stood in a warded bedroom at Moody's house, where Draco had been hiding for the past two weeks. Dung handed Draco a capped potion vial and a wrapped sweet. "Drink the potion, then climb through the air vent. Eat the sweet once you're outside. It will make you big again."

"Do I need to worry about apparating from the International Wizard Port?" Draco asked, pocketing the items.

"Depends on where you're going."

Draco glanced at Moody, his contact and the only person that knew his destination. No one else would have known he was leaving Britain if Dung's smuggling knowledge wasn't needed. Moody indicated with a nod to answer.

Draco pulled the scrap of shirtsleeve from his pocket, a preservation spell cast on the material. "Fifteen-ten Driscoll Avenue, Metropolis, Kansas."

Dung tapped his lower lip. "Kansas is one of them middle states. There won't be many wizards there. There aren't wards outside the Port. You should be able to apparate right to the building in Metropolis."

Draco folded the scrap carefully and returned it to his robe pocket. "It's in the muggle world, so I'll have to take more precaution in arriving."

Dung half-smiled knowingly. "It wouldn't do to become news when you're attempting to make a quiet escape, eh?"

Making a quiet escape was most important for Draco's health and well-being. Moody's house was safe, but Draco couldn't fathom spending who knew how long in one room until the war ended. Laying low in another country, an ocean away from the war and the death mark hanging over his head, was the best plan of action.

It also gave him the chance to see Lex Luthor again.

Draco hadn't been able to scrub Lex from his thoughts since the day they'd met and, on more than one occasion, he'd found himself dreaming he was with Lex while shagging someone else. There was a pull to find Lex after such encounters, to discover if the intense attraction he'd had for Blue Eyes would mutate into the best shag ever.

Draco's traveling robes swished around his ankles as he stepped into the last stall on the left in the empty toilet. The air vent was ankle high on the wall, beside the toilet. Gray slats angled over five-centimetre spaces, allowing air to pass through from outside. Draco removed his robes, revealing muggle clothing of black trousers and a wine-colored shirt. He shrank and pocketed the robes, tucked his wand up his cuffed sleeve, and took the potion vial from his other pocket.

Checking to make certain the sweet was accessible, Draco uncapped and drank the vile-tasting potion. It worked immediately. He began shrinking at a rapid rate, feeling like he was freefalling on his broom with the world whooshing past in a blur. He stopped at the height of twenty centimeters. His clothes had shrunk with him thanks to an ever-fitting charm on the material.

Draco recapped the vial and stuck it in his trouser pocket. The lowest edge of the air vent was within reach and he hoisted himself through the open slat. "Disgusting," he muttered, making a face at the dead bugs, mold, and dirt in the vent. Being careful where he stepped, he walked the short distance to the slats set into the outer wall of the Port building.

The drop to the ground was further than the height to climb into the vent and Draco splash-landed in a puddle on his arse. Cursing Dung, Draco stomped out of the puddle and waved his wand at himself with a drying spell. He smoothed his clothing and his hair. He then apparated with a crack.

Fifteen-ten Driscoll Avenue, Metropolis, Kansas, turned out to be a tremendously tall building, rather than the flat Draco was expecting. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the walls of glass, glinting off the highly polished marble floor. Tall potted plants stood sentry, equally spaced along the windows. He could see a reception desk near the lift, with two muggles in identical clothing behind it.

Draco, still shrunk, hurried behind a dense, leafy potted plant near the door. A canopy covered the doorway outside, and a uniformed doorman stood at attention on the opposite side of the glass. A few muggles walked past in the relatively warm October afternoon. Vehicles traveled back and forth down the street.

Draco unwrapped the sweet, popped it in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. In an instant, he was growing, shooting up to his natural height of 178-centimeters. He bent forward as he grew to hide the fact that he was changing size. Any muggles who saw him would merely think he'd dropped something.

Draco straightened, tucked his hand in his pocket, and strode casually around the plant for the door. The doorman opened it for him without a word. Pleased, he sauntered over to the desk and the two muggles behind it.

"May we help you?" one of the muggles asked politely. By his tone, Draco could tell the building was in a posh neighborhood, a place he fit in well.

"I'm here to see Lex Luthor," Draco drawled, not leaning on the counter. Only plebeians leaned.

"I'm sorry, sir, but he does not live here any longer."

Inwardly, Draco frowned, though his features stayed placid. "Is that so? I suppose he might have relocated in the three years since I last saw him. Tell me, do you have his new address?"

"I am not at liberty to give that information, sir," the muggle said.

Draco thought quickly. "I have a telephone number, but I gather that might have changed, as well?"

The muggle indicated yes with a nod of his head. Hell, Draco swore silently. He rubbed his aching arm where the dark mark was tattooed into his skin. He had backup plans if Lex had married or was otherwise indisposed, but Draco had looked forward to seeing the magnetically attractive man who'd had shared a starring role in his fantasy life for the past three years.

The muggle came to his rescue. "I could call him for you, if you'd like."

"Yes, please do," Draco said.

"Your name?"

"Draco Malfoy."

The muggle picked up the telephone receiver and made the call. "Mr. Luthor, this is security from the Driscoll Avenue building. I have a gentleman named Draco Malfoy here who wishes to speak with you."

Draco waited. The muggle listened to whatever was said, and then passed the phone over the counter to Draco. Draco took it and tentatively put it to his ear. He'd learned about telephones from Moody, but had never the chance to use the muggle contraption. "Hello? Are you there?"

"This is Lex Luthor. Can I help you?"

The smooth baritone slid through the receiver, into Draco's ear, and right down his spine. He repressed a shiver. Unbelievable. "This is Draco Malfoy," he said, remembering to speak normally. "We met at a rather fiery pub in London three years back."

A sharply drawn-in breath came over the phone line. "I remember."

"I'm on holiday in America and I thought I would look you up, only I arrived to find you no longer live at the address you'd given me."

"I've been exiled to Smallville as of two weeks ago," Lex said. "Stay there. I'll have a car sent to drive you."

"That's all right. I have transportation. If you'll give me the address…" Draco held out his hand and the muggle behind the desk gave him paper and a pen without prompting. Good muggle.

"Thirteen-thirteen Bedsford Lane," Lex said. Draco jotted it down. "I'll see you in a couple hours, then?"

"It will be much sooner than that," Draco said, tearing off the paper. It was tacky on one side and stuck to his finger. He shook his hand and it fluttered onto the counter. "I hope you're prepared for visitors."

"Yes." Lex sounded somewhat breathless. It made Draco's trousers become tight across the crotch.

"Good. Watch for me on your doorstep."

"I will."

-tbc