"Maybe I'll just take a bottle or two to go, Chessy," the flaxen haired beauty told the barmaid."

Harry turned to face him again, "Don't leave on account of me, Malfoy."

"I'm not leaving on account of you, Potter," the stormy eyed male replied. "I have better things to do." Why did his drawl still have that bloody affect on Harry? Harry was over him; at least that was what he claimed.

Harry turned back to his drink, "good." He took one glance at Chessy before downing the rest of the drink. "Can I get another one of these, Chessy?" The woman nodded and quickly set to making another.

"Trying to get smashed Potter?" Draco sneered, "What's so bad now? Get a paper cut? Girl kiss you?" Draco sat down two seats away from Harry.

"I thought you were bloody leaving?" the Gryffindor growled.

"Manners Potter. I asked you a question first. I only changed my mind. Now you."

"To your first question. What else would I be doing in a bar other than getting trashed, Malfoy? I mean, seriously, the last time you were this dense was the summer before..." Harry trailed off and gulped at his second drink. "Anyways, I don't know why you care about what's driven me here."

Draco's eyes had darkened when Harry reminded him of that summer, the summer before Harry and him had called a 'truce'. It had gone farther a few months after that. Neither knew what had exactly driven them apart. It just happened, they lost contact and both assumed the other had, wordlessly, dumped the other. "How would you know what I care about, Potter?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Malfoy."

"What Potter? Don't want to talk about why you broke up with me?"

Harry twirled in his seat to face the slate-eyed man, nearly spilling his drink, "Why I broke up with you? What the hell are you talking about? You dumped me!"

"No, my father said you came to the manor to break it off. He said you told him to tell me 'it's over'." Draco replied keeping a semblance of cool. Harry knew how tormented he was though. There were little signs, the pad of his fingers running over his thumbnail, a slight tick in this left eye that was barely noticeable to those unacquainted with the blond.

"No Malfoy. That day I came to the manor to ask you something. He said that you didn't want to see me and that you asked him to break it off."

"That's not-"

Harry looked down into his drink, "You know it is Malfoy. Your father never did care for you being gay. Not to mention he didn't like that your boyfriend was a half blood."

"I never cared what he said, Potter. Even if he did, why would you believe a thing my father said? We were going to move in together. Why would I break up with you then?"

"I was a ball of nerves that day. I don't know why I believed Lucius. I was too nervous to think straight."

"Nervous?" Draco still hadn't sipped at his drink, "what was there to be nervous about?"

Harry hesitated, "I said I came to ask you a question. I was afraid of being rejected."

Draco unknowingly snickered, "What stupid question could have been that bad?" Harry knew, after as much time as he had spent in the attractive blonde's presence, that the snicker only meant he was uncomfortable. Yet he ignored it and pressed on.

He looked Draco straight in the eyes. "It's no matter now… Draco."

The other man ignored the use of his given name, "fine, well, do you think... do you think there would have been any chance that we could have been together now if my... father had not interfered… Harry?" Draco suddenly found the crystal of his glass fascinating while Harry found his equally so.

"I don't really know. Anything could have happened. You could have left me after all of the bloody publicity that I'm getting, or dumped me right before I went off to slay old Voldy." He sighed, visibly disturbed.

Draco looked at him with a brow arching elegantly in question, "all of your conclusions seem to have me breaking up with you Harry. May I ask why?"

"I... well... you see... it's because... because I can't see me having broken up with you. My feelings were too deep. Actually they s- erm."

"But you're over me right?"

"Sure… of course, it's been long enough. And you're over me?" Harry tried hard not to look disappointed at the answer he knew would fall between them.

"Well, yea," Draco replied, not looking at all commited to his answer. Harry was busily inspecting the countertop so he did not see. "What happened exactly... that we never contacted each other? That we... drifted apart, as we did?"

"I don't know exactly… It was a strange way, though …when we got together." For the first time that day, a smile showed on the graduated Gryffindor's face and he giggled. "I still can't believe you did that. It was highly unusual of you."

"Yes, Harry. Let's not dwell on the fact that for once that year I actually showed a minute bit of care for you."

Harry was weeping in a corner of a corridor at his school, it was their sixth year. He had broken down after seeing something that had reminded him of Sirius, his godfather, who had died near the end of his fifth year. No matter what people said, he still blamed himself for his death.

"Mr. Potter, I do believe you should be in your bed at this hour of night. I pray tell you give me a reason. I hope you can make it good. I suppose you think you're better than everyone else. Stand up, let's go to my office, I need to assign you a detention."

Snape had caught him. The only thing was that Harry was so deep in his mourning earlier that he had lost track of time as people wandered past his dark corner of the world. All that had existed was his grief, that is, until Snape had broken his concentration... bastard.

"Surely you can move quicker than this Potter? Hurry now; I have a student meeting me at my office. I want to get this over with quickly."

"Yes sir," Harry didn't blame his professor any more, for Sirius' death, like he had been so willing to do last year. He found that he really respected the man for all he had been through and recognized his attempts to protect him over the years. The man had been through much more than Harry would ever know over the years and frankly he was amazed that he was able to spy and keep his secrets as well as he was able to. He was like an idol for Harry, he could only hope to have that much courage when he faced Voldemort.

Snape glided into his office, "Ahh... you're here already. Good, good. Just let me assign Potter, here, a detention quickly."

"What did you do now, Potter? Why are you out so bloody late?" Draco didn't pretend not to notice the tear stains around the Gryffindor's puffy red eyes. "Why were you crying?" For some reason, he just wanted to reach over and wipe away his tears- where the hell had that come from? Wipe away Potter's tears? That was a ridiculous idea if he had ever heard one, and he had heard many.