Disclaimer: I own nothing. JKR is queen of all.

…

"I can't stay here, you know."

Harry was glad that Draco had broached the subject first. He hadn't known how. He turned his head to pick out Malfoy's form in the gloom. "I know," he sighed.

Draco was a refined silhouette against soft light seeping through the curtains. Harry could see the bulky bandages beneath his clothes and itched to know what had happened. Draco spoke before he could say anything. "I'll check into a hotel tonight."

"Does it have to be like this?" Somehow, the darkness made talking easier for Harry. He didn't have to acknowledge to himself that he was talking to the hated Draco Malfoy.

"Perhaps not, Potter," Draco said, standing perfectly still. "But for now, this is the way it shall stay."

Harry felt very tired. He wanted to reach customarily for the gin bottle, but stopped himself. He didn't want to appear weak to Malfoy. Standing up abruptly, he resettled his glasses on his nose before quickly crossing the distance between them.

Draco remained motionless, his face impassive. His hair had fallen forward, casting his eyes into shadow. Harry gazed at him from behind his glasses. At last, he spoke.

"I don't want to waste this chance, Draco."

Draco's head jerked up. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Harry said hurriedly, "is that I haven't seen anyone from… before… for six years. Now you're here. I don't want you to…" He trailed off, avoiding Draco's eyes.

"Go?" Draco asked simply. "You don't want me to go?"

Harry hesitated, something within his chest trembling for a reason he didn't know. Then he nodded, a hot blush creeping into his cheeks. How did people bear this intensity? How did people bear this closeness to others? It felt like something raw and frightening. Even with Draco's cock in his hand he had never felt this close.

He lifted a shaking hand to brush a bandage on Draco's arm. "What happened?"

The other man stepped back away from Harry and his touch. "None of your business, Potter," he muttered sullenly, sounding for all the world like the Malfoy Harry knew and hated. Anger flared up suddenly in Harry.

"Oh, stop being so childish!" He snapped and spun away, stalking off to the other side of the room. He fumed in silence a few moments before something pale in the corner of his vision caught his eyes. He turned his head slightly.

It was the parchment envelope, lying on the table beside the bookcase. Something twisted inside Harry. He reached for the envelope, but hesistated, just like he had not a few minutes before.

"Just read it, Harry."

Harry turned his head to frown at Malfoy. "Don't order me around."

Draco was still standing by the window. A breeze blew the curtains gently; they flapped and blue evening light shone on his face. Even as he turned it away, Harry could see that he looked terrible. There were bags under his eyes. His whole face was a picture of weariness. "You need to read it, Potter," Draco insisted. "You can't keep denying the existence of the wizarding world."

"I'm doing no such thing," Harry grumbled. "I don't know who it's from. It could have a spell on it – it could be dangerous."

"At least it isn't a Howler," Draco smirked. "Though from the way your two best friends were feeling when I last saw them, I wouldn't be surprised if it was."

"You saw R- my friends?" Harry asked, astonished.

"A lot has happened since you went away."

"Apparently," he said drily. "You'd hardly believe it, but someone I'd thought was dead just turned up on my doorstep the other day! Talk about eventful."

Draco stepped back, as if Harry had punched him. His shadowed eyes widened perceptibly. "Just… read your letter, Harry." He managed. "Stop sniping at me. I'm booking into a hotel. Leave me be."

"You tell me to stop sniping!" Harry threw up his hands incredulously.

"Never mind, Potter. Just read the letter, please. It could be important."

Harry turned away from Draco, back to the envelope where it lay on the table; a rectangle of creamy parchment. He didn't even want to touch it.

He picked it up and flipped it over, moving to the window. Draco backed away, keeping a safe distance between them, but Harry ignored him. He was looking at the wax seal.

It was a simple seal – a gothic R stamped into dark red wax. Harry could think of a hundred meanings of an R. He set his jaw and slid his thumb under the flap, breaking the seal and R before he had time to overthink it. He would find out what was inside before collapsing with paranoia.

Nudging the curtains open a few more inches, Harry let the darkening day's light shine weakly onto him as he slipped the letter out of the envelope. Whereas the envelope had been tough, thick parchment, the letter was different. The letter was written on snow-white vellum, fine and delicate. The breath caught in Harry's throat as he unfolded it with his fingertips.

His stomach twisted as he took in the untidy, almost illegible scrawl. He couldn't recognise the handwriting, but that was hardly surprising. What was surprising was what the letter said.

Harry –

A mutual friend brings danger. Do not incur his wrath.

R.

Harry looked up, his mind racing. The city was spread out in front of him, a jagged huddle of buildings beginning to light up for the night, but he didn't see it. His mind was too full of what he had just read.

It was astonishing how so few words could cause so much confusion. Who was this 'R'? And how on earth had they managed to find him? He turned the envelope in his hands. It said simply 'Mr H. J. Potter'. No address, no directions, no c/o.

And as for the mutual friend…

Harry turned back to the dark room, the letter held lightly in his hands. Draco was watching him, shrouded in shadow.

"Do you know anything about this letter, Draco?" His tone was blunt and accusing.

Draco's twisted into a contemptuous frown. "I know nothing about any letter, Potter."

Harry slipped the letter back into the envelope. "You know, Malfoy," he began, sounding more light-hearted than he felt. Mutual friend? "When you talk like that, you sound just like…" He stopped, memories shouldering into his mind. Turning away from Draco, he muttered, "never mind."

"Just like who, Potter?" Within a few strides, Draco was looming over him. "Why won't you say their names?" Harry shuddered, feeling cold suddenly. The atmosphere had turned ugly within a few seconds. He tried to move away, but Draco caught him by the wrist.

The touch felt like an electric shock. Harry remembered the time, long ago, when his cousin had made him stick a fork into a plug socket. He had had to go to hospital. He had stopped breathing.

Harry's breath now caught in his throat, and he pressed himself back against the wall, wrenching his wrist out of Draco's grip. The other man's eyes were a flat grey, like a shark's. They seemed to know his very soul.

"Say their names," Draco said, his voice low and threatening. Harry shook his head.

"No," he choked out.

"Say them!" Draco pressed forward. Harry flattened himself against the wall as the letter fell from his senseless fingers. "Say them, or I will!"

Harry shook his head.

"Curse you, Harry Potter!" Draco whirled away, striding away a few paces before he came to a halt. Harry saw his shoulders slump, his head drooping. "Were you," Draco asked, without looking back, "going to say that I sounded like Snape?"

Harry gasped involuntarily, clenching his fists at his sides. Snape… He took a step forward, his head swimming. Snape! His legs felt weak. The room was spinning!

"Severus Snape…"

Was it him who had said that, or one of the voices from his past? As his legs buckled, in his rapidly fading vision he saw Draco turn and gape. It was coming on so fast!

He fell forwards as a wave of darkness hit him and took him under.

…

Author's Note:

Hello there, fellow HPDM lovers. :) I'm in a bit of a good mood today, despite being a little fuzzy from getting hit over the head with a hammer via the internet. ;)

Anyway, just a bit of clarification. I do know that some of the actions and motivations in the story may seem a little fuzzy – why the hell Draco is actually there, for instance. Believe me, I've been trying to get Draco to reveal a little bit more over the past few chapters, but he's a stubborn git. There is a reason, and it will be revealed in all its glorious drama, but for the moment it should probably remain mysterious to further the suspense.

As for confusion as to Harry's job, I can clear that up right away. Harry is working, as I soon hope to be doing after Tuesday's interview, as a cashier at a supermarket. It's a boring job – he swipes items through the checkout day in, day out. I might have him quit soon. It's even boring to write. If the Americans reading this (I assume there are some) are confused, sorry. It's been eight years since I was last in America, and I can't quite recall if supermarkets were called just that or something else. I was too busy concentrating on the Froot Loops.

Gods, I miss Froot Loops.

Jen

xox