A/N: Sorry, I don't have time to comment on people's reviews, I'm in kinda hurry with updating this fic coz my dad's gonna kick me off the comp any second. Anyways, thanks Sarya again for beta-reading and for all lovely reviews I've gotten! I was in a weird mood while writing this LOOOONG chapter so I dunno about the result… The song's The Venus In Furs' 'Tumbling Down'.

EDIT: I had to send this chapter here again, since my beta had read the wrong version of it... So there might be few grammar mistakes, don't kill me.

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Chapter four: Tumbling Down

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My breath catches in my throat, my eyes are now completely focused as I stare at the pair of smiling eyes turned towards me.

I had thought that the lack of feeling iwould be bliss, but this goes far beyond even that…

I am in a fairy tale, I have to be, and a bloody damsel in distress, for my saviour has come again, his wet locks framing his beautiful face in the faint lighting of the café. The dark greens of the room are mere insignificant shadows of the background compared to the vivid fire that flickers in the emerald mirrors of his soul. I ask for your forgiveness as I say the soppiest of the soppiest sentences ever to exist:

I could drown in those eyes.

Few days ago I would have snorted at such an expression for its corniness, but now that I, myself, actually mean it and understand the feelings behind it, the phrase has a whole new significance to me. I could happily lose myself in the velvety, green shades of his eyes, spin around again and again, feeling the tickling sensation of the velvet, dance along the wild violin concerto that only I can hear and after few centuries of dancing I would wrap myself in the softness that is him, and snuggle against the green velvet, refusing to leave and I would stay there until the end of the world.

I am speechless. Situations like this can only be read from mushy love novels, but now I feel like I'm suddenly living one.

Ordering one black coffee for himself he digs a few coins from his pocket, hands them to the lady and turns to place the cups of coffee onto the table next to which I slumped in the moment of dizziness. I can feel my gaze glazing over as I wander around the world behind my eyes.

"Draco?" Someone says somewhere far away.

I have this weird tickling sensation somewhere in my back, as if the velvet was kissing me there for real.

"Draco!"

I snap out of it and understand that I must have looked quite lost for a moment.

"Are you alright?" He frowns and let's his eyes roam over my body and I feel myself blush like a silly schoolgirl. I'm getting embarrassed by my own embarrassment!

"May I sit?"

I get my voice back and with uncharacteristic shyness turn my eyes away. "Of course, please do." I gesture towards the seat opposite me.

"Hey," I remember something, "You know my name!"

His face is smiling at me, and that curve of his lips is absolutely adorable. It's fascinating. I watch as he opens those sinfully full, pink lips to speak. "Yeah, they told me at the police station what your name is. Draco…" I shudder, "The star?"

I chew my bottom lip unconsciously. "My parents apparently thought it was cool to name their child after a star."

"I think it's a nice name, not too ordinary like Harry", he states calmly.

"Your name is Harry?"

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to be impolite. Harry Potter." And he extends his arm and I shook it. His name is now burnt into every single brain cell that is still left in me. I remember the time as a kid when I saw this one rockstar I fancied and asked for an autograph after the concert. I was so nervous and somehow the situation I'm in right now reminds me of the excitement I felt back then.

"Draco Malfoy, it's definitely nice to meet you." I ogle at him in a most likely rude manner, never felt this enchanted before.

I just can't get enough of that smile of his. A sudden urge to touch his lips strikes me, and it takes much willpower for me not to reach out and press my finger tips to Harry's lips. I bet he's one of those people whose boyish smile could melt every single mother-in-law's heart immediately.

"As I sat inside the police station I noticed you kicking litter bin on the pavement." 'Scheisse, he saw me fall flat on my arse.' "I was just about to leave and I, um, followed you as I saw you staggering into this coffee shop."

I lift my other well-shaped eyebrow. 'He followed me?'

"So, what were you doing at the station at this hour? It's about half past ten already."

I groan internally. How am I get out of this without looking too stupid? 'Oh, yes. I was so obsessed with you that I just had to go back there to find out your name so that I could stalk you'. No, definitely not. I just say: "I forgot something."

"Oh."

He seems to sink deep in thought. No, don't start thinking! By thinking you might remember what kind of an idiot I am for acting like a coward that I am. "And you?"

"Sorry?"

"What were you there for?"

"I was just… I still had some business with the officer, nothing to do with you." His voice deepens towards the end and turning his eyes away he takes a sip of his coffee. Interesting. He hastily continues. "I just wanted to check if you were okay after that fall. Concussions are rather tricky, I got one myself once, and the unsteady way you walked looked rather worrying. Some concussions can be really severe and in your case, after what happened today, I thought that it would be wise to check on you."

"Thank you. For the coffee and… for the incident on the roof…" My voice fades away.

"You're welcome." Quick smile and he adds some sugar to his coffee.

Oh gods I am so ashamed…

"Listen", I turn my head towards him, still embarrassed and now fearing that he might leave. "Do you need to go to hospital for a check? Or maybe a lift? I'd like to make sure that you get home without fainting. I have a car over there and I'm in no hurry."

My heart skips one beat. It doesn't even matter that I feel rather crappy in my wet clothes, not now that I have Harry here with me. "If it honestly isn't a bother…"

"It's not." His wet hair is not even plastered to his skin like mine. His hair is rebellious and I love the wild image it gives him.

Suddenly I become very self-conscious and remember that it rained and that my outer appearance wouldn't be too fetching with smeared make-up. Even though he has already seen me like this, like a scruffy cat rescued from a gutter, it wouldn't do any harm to make myself a bit more presentable.

"I have to go to toilet, I'll be right back." He smiles and nods, taking another sip of his coffee.

I make my way hurriedly to the men's loo, digging out my eyeliner from my back pocket and leaning close to the mirror. As I lift the often sharpened and only one and half inches long black pen, I can't help but wonder what the hell I am doing.

I'm putting make-up on. I am soaked, dirty and I'm putting make-up on only to realise afterwards that it's smeared and looks even worse than it did in the first place, at the time when I attempted to make it look better.

A blonde man is looking back at me in the mirror, holding my pen, looking at me in confusion and clearly pondering what that other man is thinking. He looks cautious, he's not sure if it's appropriate to do anything now that someone is looking at him.

"Does he think I look like a cheap whore? Is he judging and watching my deeds and just waiting for me to start with my eye-liner, then smirk at me and gloat to himself, thinking 'I knew he wouldn't be able to be himself'?" That's what that man in the mirror is thinking.

He is breathing, his heart is beating, and even though he looks like shit he's still alive and trying to turn into something that doesn't exist in nature. He's wearing make-up and blue nail-polish is flaking off of his fingernails. The man in the mirror is reaching for one moment's glow that'll fade away in a second, and without his cover-up that is slightly cracked now, he is nothing but the same tattered thing that he's trying to turn his back on at the moment.

Nonetheless, he is too arrogant to let anyone get to him, and since his mission requires him to have direct eye-contact with that stranger, he faces his only evaluator and draws that line that makes him change into whatever it is that he wants to be.

But in the universe where he tries to be invisible and eye candy both at the same time, there are other people similar to him and people that are nothing like him.

I am not in the mirror, I am here and doing exactly what that man in the mirror is doing. That man in the mirror is fake, but am I any more factual?

Through the mirror I, that very same blonde man that I hate to recognize as myself, see a red-haired, tall man come out of the toilet and come wash his hands. I draw another fine dark line on my eyelid with my expert skill, smearing it just slightly with my index to make it reminiscent of eye-shadow.

I can see the man wrinkling his freckled nose in disgust. "Revolting faggot," he hisses behind my back. If those blazing brown eyes possessed the power to kill with the loathing they hold within, I'd be ready to be placed six feet under.

I pucker my lips and make a kissing sound at him, adding some fake fluttering of my eyelashes.

"Sick!" Serving one more hateful look, the man storms out of the now silent room.

I can't help but smirk. I would not have done that anywhere outside the café, they would have beat me up. I snigger to myself. That face was priceless. I just hope that I will never meet him again.

I continue my task and in few seconds I'm done. Wiping off the smeared make-up under my eyes I smile at myself and run my fingers through my hair once again, never learning that it's not helping at all. I am not looking as good as I'd want to, but this will do. Some people might like this kind of shabby street boy look.

Feeling only slightly more confident I step out of the loo, meeting the smell of coffee again.

Letting my eyes find Harry again, I see him giving a brief hug to the very same red-haired guy that called me a faggot just a minute ago.

Contemplating the situation in my head, I end up finding myself on my way to Harry… and that other guy.

I hold my head up, wiping all wrinkles of doubt off my face. As I come closer to them, both of them turn their heads towards me.

Harry's ever so beaming self makes me feel warm once again.

The red-head's face twists into that familiar grimace. "What the fuck are you looking at?"

I glance at Harry, whose slightly alarmed look makes the other man shut up. "Ron, this is Draco Malfoy. Draco, this is my friend, Ron Weasley."

Confusion shines from the red-head's eyes. He looks at me, then at Harry, me, Harry and me again. It's like he's trying to make it clear to himself what the hell is going on.

And surprise, he voices his thoughts. "What is going on?? Harry, who is this bloke?"

He sighs and rolls his eyes. Heh heh, someone is being slow, I'm not the only one who sees it. "As I said, this is Draco, whom I met this afternoon. I just happened to bump into him here."

'Lies, Harry. Don't you know that lies are bad?'

He changes the topic. "So, Ron, what are you doing here?"

"But Harry, look at him!" He does and gives me a faint smile. I smile back. Ron seems a bit disturbed by this. "He's a fucking queer, a fairy queen!"

"Ron…" He tries, speaking in a warning tone.

"That sort of people just aren't normal in the head! He might jump you any moment when you're alone, Harry."

"Ron, stop it."

"I know what I'm talking about! Once when I was having a normal walk this one guy just comes up to me and grabs my arse! I had never seen him in my life, but I could clearly see that he was one of those people who don't care about anyone but themselves and take advantage of common people whenever they want without any conscience."

"Ron!"

"They should just stay somewhere in their hides among their own kind of lot, or please us by disappearing altogether! I can't see how their lives would be worth a singing shit -"

'Ouch.'

"Shut up!"

"- 'cos nature didn't plan such things to exist in the first place when men and women were cr–"

"RON! Would you ONCE in your life just SHUT THE FUCK UP and stop being such a self-interested little SHITHEAD that you are and take your freckled, spotty face out of your homophobic arse??"

That had come out in such volume that those who miraculously hadn't noticed this exchange of ahem, views, before, turned to look at us, even the deaf woman with a Labrador in the corner.

Harry, even though the shorter one of the two, looks at his stunned friend with such a fierce look that it might make me piss in my pants had it been directed towards me. Or maybe not, but you get the idea. Those green eyes hold the brown ones' gaze, and I wonder if they're telepathic. It's like ice. Hard and cold but still able to be melted. Somehow even though it is scary to look at Harry like this, it feels safe and my chest swells with warmth. His fists are clenched and his eyes are shining, not from tears but the purity of his emotions.

Ron's expression can't really be described too well… It's a mixture of rage and fear, as if he doesn't know what to say but still wanting to say so much that the words are blocking his vocal cords. I doubt even he knows what he's thinking, it's pretty hard when you have an angered black-haired lion growling at you. Even though the caf's customers weren't too talkative in the first place, now they're totally quiet. The woman behind the counter in sending us stern glares. I try to smile at her apologetically and sighing she turn away.

Somehow Harry manages to calm himself down, and rubs his eyes tiredly. "Ron…"

The red-head swallows hard. "Harry, I honestly didn't mean to make you upset."

"I know. Just…" He lifts his face towards the roof, his fingertips now resting on his cheeks and chin. "Just go away. I don't think it's a good idea to try to discuss this with you at the moment."

He nods solemnly and with heavy steps saunters away, his steps making drab thuds against the wooden floor. I feel uncomfortable and I don't know what to do.

Did I cause this?

Harry sits back down and takes hold of his cup of coffee, but obviously not going to drink it. I'm still standing as he leans on his elbows against the table, covering his forehead with his hands. I realise that there are at least two people in this room who have no idea how to continue from this.

Finally he lifts his face and gives me a weak smile. I try to smile back at him, but it's harder than one would think.

I see him in a whole different light.

He's not my saviour in shining armour, he's not the one who's standing when everyone else has fallen and he's definitely not inhuman.

He is Harry and able to feel depression just as well as anyone else. I feel incredibly selfish all of a sudden, not having understood that other people might have problems and still they don't try to hide or escape them.

He was there when I didn't even know I craved for someone, and now I'm here, even though I don't know if that's what he needs or even wants.

I don't know him, he doesn't know me and this is one of the weirdest situations I can remember myself ever been in. We're total strangers to each other but somehow I still feel that I knew him the second I laid my eyes on him. I don't know if I believe in past lives and resurrection and karma, but situations like this make me wonder if I've met him, perhaps even loved him in my past life. In a moment like this when nothing seems to make sense that's the only thing that might seem even slightly logical.

I take few hesitant steps and soon I'm right next to him, searching for the eyes that slowly turn towards me. I wrap my arms around him, feeling the electricity around his body as I press my chest against his. For a second he tenses and does not know how to react.

Then he wraps his arms around me and returns the embrace, sighing against the side of my neck.

.

..

... TBC ...

A/N: Reviews aren't poisonous.