Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling. This story is merely my way of saluting her. I do not own any of these characters; I just manipulate their thoughts.

Summary: Harlequin, meet Harry. Set in the late 1870's, this is a story about a lighthouse keeper who is content with the solitary life he leads until a shipwreck washes ashore a remarkable young man. As the keeper cares for the young man, his will to start living again rejuvenates, sprouting from admiration to adoration to love.

Alternate Universe. Non-Magic. Slash. Harry/Draco.

A/N: Holy hell! Sorry! So for all those of you who have become thoroughly depressed after that last chapter, I suggest you read Snap's secret by zomgtwilightttt. It will totally be worth your tears.

I know, the last chapter and this one are short. They used to be one chapter, but I broke them up to have them flow better. Don't worry, I'll have one more chapter for you guys in the coming week.


"He will come back," Blaise said.

Draco flinched at the words. "I don't want to talk about it," he muttered.

"You're acting like you think he won't come back. I just want you to know that he's coming back."

"It doesn't matter."

"Obviously it does."

"Just – leave it."

"He came back last time, didn't he?"

Draco's expression turned to pain. "He didn't… I found him," he said, his voice breaking.

"You will find him again."

"He doesn't want to come back, Blaise, why don't you understand?"

"Why doesn't he want to come back?"

Draco wrapped his arms around himself, as though he was trying to hold himself in place. "Because that's who he is. He thinks he's hurt me and so he won't come back."

"No, Draco. He loves you, so he will come back."


His mother pulled Draco out of his confusing dream. He awoke slowly, willing his mind to clear and sharpen. "Hmm?" he asked, feeling the air in front of him.

"It's me."

"Oh," Draco said, pulling his hand back.

Narcissa gently pried the book out of Draco's hands and sat on the sofa with him. "You're still reading the same book?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Charles Dickens."

"Yes."

Narcissa was pained by Draco's curt replies. She was also thankful that her son couldn't see how hurt she was. "I – Draco, I –"

"It's alright, Mother."

"No, it isn't," Narcissa said.

"What is done is done, right?"

"I hope not…" Narcissa mumbled, running her fingers down the raised dots on the pages of the book.

"Did you need something, Mother?"

Narcissa shut her eyes to keep her tears from falling. "Yes," she breathed.

"What?"

"Tell me about him."

Draco's head snapped to his mother. "Wh – what?" he stammered.

"Tell me about him. Tell me why you are in love with him."

"You can't be serious," Draco said incredulously.

"I am. I want to know."

Draco gaped at Narcissa. "What makes you think you have the right?" he asked softly.

Narcissa pressed her fingers to her lips as she stifled a moan. The tears insisted on falling. "I – I didn't – I have no right," she said, her words choking her. "I'm sorry, Draco," she whispered hoarsely, getting up quickly. The book fell with a resounding thud. Draco's heart ached at his mother's sadness. He heard her unsteady steps moving away from him.

"The book…" he said. The footsteps stopped. "It is his favorite."

Narcissa hoped against hope. She ventured closer.

"He said the book is real to him. It's his favorite."

Narcissa was silent, unwilling to break the moment.

"I don't know if you had ever felt this with Father. Harry makes me feel so – important. He makes me feel loved, Mother. Sometimes it felt like he loved me more than you did. Do you know what that feels like? I didn't until I met him. I don't think Astoria ever loved me… Not like that."

Narcissa sat down next to Draco. Draco reached out to hold her trembling hand.

"He didn't know me. He didn't even know he loved me. It just happened. When he found out who I was, he – he panicked. He was afraid. He didn't want me to be like Father. But that was four years ago. When I met him again… I just knew. And he knew. He wasn't trying to hurt me. He was trying to keep me from getting hurt. That's why he left. Do you understand?"

Draco felt Narcissa's tears fall on his hand and he sighed. "Don't cry, Mother," he said, gently feeling her wet cheeks and wiping the tears away. "If there's anything I've learnt from Harry, it's to forgive," he said, wrapping Narcissa in a warm hug. "I love you."

"Tell me more," Narcissa said, her eyes emptying into Draco's shoulder.


Scorpius grumbled as he poked his father's arm. "Daddy, you're being sad again," he said grumpily.

Draco shook himself out of his musings, a smile tugging at his lips. "Am I?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I'll stop then."

"Why are you sad?" Scorpius asked, scooting closer to Draco and leaning against him.

Draco shrugged, wondering at his son's perceptivity. "I – I lost something," he said vaguely.

"Go find it."

"I don't know where to look."

"Where did you last see it?"

Draco smiled wryly. "You know what? I have never actually seen it before," he said thoughtfully, pulling his son onto his lap.

Scorpius made a sound of frustration. "How do we find it then?" he asked.

"Maybe we won't."

"But you'll keep being sad."

Draco pondered his son's words in his head. He didn't want to keep being sad. Especially not if Scorpius was privy to his sadness. "Then I'll just have to try really hard at being happy, won't I?"

Scorpius nodded solemnly. "Yes, you do. I'll help. We can start by playing blocks, okay?"

Draco tried to stifle his laughter at his son's obvious manipulation. "Alright, we'll see if your blocks help," he said with a grin.


"Ah, mon ami, pourquoi es-tu si triste?"

Harry looked up at the silhouette in front of his coffee table. His eyes adjusted to the bright sun as he squinted. The short and petite blond had on a cheerful smile. Her clothes were eclectic at best – flowing black skirt and a pale blue corset with dots of white flowers. "Je ne comprends pas le français," Harry murmured, dropping his gaze.

"Anglais?"

"Oui."

"Hmm…"

Harry's eyebrows shot up when the woman took the seat opposite to him uninvited. He frowned at her in confusion. "Quel est ton nom?" she asked, motioning to the server with a raised hand.

"Harry. Et vous?"

"Luna."

They sat in silence for a while, Harry trying not to get bothered with Luna's dreamy gaze. When the waiter came over, Luna ordered a drink and looked at Harry questioningly. Harry shook his head, indicating to his lukewarm coffee in front of him. Luna tilted her head thoughtfully before rattling off in French to the waiter, who nodded and took off back inside the café. "Vous êtes seul…" Luna said, almost to herself.

"Um…"

"Seul. Er – solitaire? Je ne sais pas… Solitary? Alone?"

Harry shrugged. "Oui."

"Ville de l'amour! Paris! Pourquoi es-tu si triste?"

Harry looked at Luna blankly. She bit her lip as she twirled her blond hair with her fingers.

"Triste… er – déprimé? Ne sois pas triste, 'Arry."

"Je ne comprends pas," Harry said helplessly, wondering what this woman wanted from him.

Luna sighed in frustration. "Tu," she pointed at Harry. "Triste," she pulled the corners of her lips down into a melancholy face. "Pas content," she said, shaking her head at him. She exaggerated her doe eyes and downturned lips, blinking at Harry.

"Sad?"

"Oui!" Luna said, a bright grin on her face. "Sad! You is sad! Pourquoi, pourquoi?" she asked eagerly.

This woman wanted to know why he was sad? Harry gaped at Luna in wonderment. "I don't know," he shrugged. "Je ne sais pas…"

"Avez-vous battre avec votre amant?" Luna asked, a mischievous glint in her pale eyes. "Furieux? Um… angry? Avec amant? Amant, amant, amant… Compange? Femme?" Luna seemed to be wracking her brain. "Je ne sais que. Amour – lo – lover! Angry of lover! Oui?"

Harry snorted at Luna's triumphant grin. "Angry with my lover…" he repeated. "I – non. Non," he said softly.

"Oh," Luna slumped back. "Lover angry?"

Harry smiled wryly. "J'espère que non," he said. He hoped Blaise had given Draco his message. "I hope not…"

"Mélancolie…" she murmured as the server brought out two cups of espresso. She pushed one towards Harry, nodding at him to drink it. Harry took a tentative sip, feeling his taste buds jolting at the strong flavor. "Good?" Luna asked.

"Oui," Harry replied, letting the coffee wake him up.

"You – you désir… you desire lover ici? À Paris?"

Harry shrugged again, unsure. Draco was better off without him. So what did it matter if he was here with Harry or not.

"Eperdument amoureux," Luna said, shaking her head at Harry knowingly. "If you are – s – sad in Paris," she said slowly, trying to voice her thoughts in the foreign language. "She is – mo – more sad? No?"

Harry froze with the cup halfway up. Luna noticed Harry's inaction and realized she was getting through to him. So she continued. "Paris! Ville de l'amour! Um… Cité de love! You are sad in Paris. Non on est triste à Paris! Er – you are one man sad in Paris. Non… Only man? You are only man sad in Paris. She is more sad, no?"

"N – no. He – he'll get over it," Harry mumbled, his heart faltering. Would Draco be hurt because of Harry leaving?

Luna shook her head apologetically. "Je ne comprends pas. She is more sad. Vous devez rentrer à la maison You – hmm… she is more sad. You go maison. She is – que… happy? Oui. You maison, she is happy. You are happy," Luna said, a reassuring smile on her lips.

"Maison?"

"Oui, maison. Home. With lover. Go home. Be happy."


A sharp knock on the door echoed through the almost empty house. Draco sighed, pursing his lips and glancing at Scorpius. "Don't you dare," he said. Scorpius was the picture of innocence as he blinked at Draco with the large doe eyes. Draco narrowed his eyes and tried to stop his smile from leeching out. He grabbed the bowl of batter from Scorpius' hands. Scorpius pouted and folded his arms in retort. "I'm taking it with me," Draco said, wiping the flour off of his hands and walking out of the kitchen.

"Not fair," he heard Scorpius grumble lowly. Draco allowed himself a slight smile. Another knock sounded. Draco hurried to the door and pulled it open. "Hello," he said cordially.

"I – um… Hello."

Draco blinked at the hesitant words. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"N – no, I – er…"

Scorpius peeked around Draco's legs. "Hey! I know you!" he said, a small grin growing on his face. "It's Harry!"

The bowl slipped out of Draco's fingers and clattered to the floor. "What?" he breathed.

Harry was frozen on the spot with fright. He knew the possibility of the door slamming shut in his face was enormous, but he also knew that if he didn't see Draco… That if he didn't see Draco, he would die of sorrow. So he found himself at Draco's doorstep mere months later. He felt Draco's gaze boring into him. "You can see…"

"Scorpius, go to your room," Draco said, his eyes still on Harry. Scorpius seemed to think about arguing, but his father looked like he was in no mood for it. So the boy stomped out of the foyer. Draco took in all of Harry – the strong stature, untidy mop of black hair, tanned skin, unsure emerald eyes, soft cheekbones and uneven lips. "Harry… You left…" Draco said faintly, his eyes running up and down.

"I – I'm… I'm sorry."

"You weren't supposed to leave."

"I – you – and your mother. I didn't –"

"Did you leave because you wanted to or because she wanted you to?"

Harry winced at the words and at the tone. He shouldn't have come. "I'm sorry," he murmured, diverting his eyes. "I shouldn't have come…" he said, turning to go.

"You're leaving again?"

Harry's jaw clenched at Draco's question. "I just wanted to see if you were doing well," Harry said, his back turned to Draco.

"For your peace of mind?"

Harry stiffened with awareness. "Yes," he said curtly as he mentally berated himself for losing control over his emotions.

"Why are you leaving?"

Harry cocked his head to the side. "Y – you want me to," he stammered.

"Do you want to?"

Harry turned around to look at Draco again. "Do I want to?" he echoed after Draco.

"Do you want to leave or are you doing it for me?"

"I – Draco, I said I was sorry," Harry said helplessly.

"Do you want to leave?"

Harry frowned. "No, of course not!" he said in exasperation. "But y –"

"So don't…"

"Wh – what?"

"Don't go."

"But you hate me!" Harry exclaimed, trying to reason with Draco.

"Only as much as you hate me…"

Harry sighed in frustration. "I don't hate – oh…" he trailed off. "Oh."

"Don't go…" Draco's heart broke when he realized how hopelessly lost Harry was. When Draco was blind Harry had been his lighthouse, helping him get through the initial shock and guiding him back home. But now Harry seemed as lost as Draco had been all those years ago. "Please, Harry. If you don't want to leave, don't," Draco said softly.

"I don't want you to get hurt," Harry said, almost inaudibly.

"Not being with you hurts…"

Harry struggled to keep his emotions at bay. "Your mother hates me," he said.

"I don't care."

Harry blanched at Draco's frank comment. "She will hate you. I don't – I don't want to do that," Harry stammered.

"Does it matter what she thinks?"

Harry brushed back his hair in irritation. "She's your family, Draco. Of course it matters. She loves you."

"And you love me."

"I can't do anything about that. Don't you understand? We can't – we can't be together. It's not that simple!"

"Make it simple."

"Look," Harry said fiercely. "This is not some bloody fairytale or a dream. You need to wake and face the reality of the situation. You are a man, I am a man, and nothing can happen between us."

"No, you don't understand," Draco said with anger that easily rivaled Harry's. "You're still trapped in your nightmare and you're afraid to wake up from it and find out that it wasn't a nightmare after all."

"What do you want from me?"

"I want you."

"You can't –"

"I can," Draco growled, sweeping Harry in his arms and kissing him with longing and passion. For a terrible moment, Draco thought Harry was going to push him away. But the moment passed in a flash. Harry pushed against Draco, his arms wrapping around Draco's neck as he moaned into Draco's demanding mouth. "Don't leave."

Harry's mind reeled back to the first day he had met Draco. The day Draco was terrified of being alone in his personal darkness. The day Draco had reached out to Harry. The day Harry had let Draco know that he wasn't leaving. "I'm not leaving."

Draco's lips softened as he heard Harry's firm words. Their passionate kisses slowed to chaste pecks. Both men pulled away at the same time, gazing at each other. "You lied," Draco murmured.

"About what?"

"You said my smile was better… But yours is – breathtaking…"

Harry felt a furious blush growing on his cheeks and he hid his face against Draco's chest.

"Mother doesn't hate you, Harry." Harry would have pulled away had Draco not been holding onto him with a death grip. "She doesn't hate you. She was just – she understands now. She does. You don't hate her, do you?"

"I – n – no…"

"Why?" Draco asked mutedly.

"Huh?"

"Why don't you hate her?"

"She – she's your mother. If you love her, how could I hate her?"

Draco groaned at Harry's explanation, pulling him up for another hungry kiss. Harry was dazed beyond belief when Draco finally broke, their lips swollen and their breaths warm. "You're so perfect, Harry… And god, you're so handsome."

"Draco, stop," Harry murmured, burning up at Draco's compliments.

"No. I'll make sure you know for the rest of our lives."

"Rest of our lives…"

"Because now you're home and I'm never letting you go."

"Home?"

"With you," Draco said.

"You are happy?"

"Happier than I have ever been."

"I love you so much, Draco."

"I love you too, Harry."


A/N: So... Yeah. I'm terribly sorry for the French. :p Here's a translation!

"Ah, my friend, why are you so sad?"

Harry looked up at the silhouette in front of his coffee table. His eyes adjusted to the bright sun as he squinted. The short and petite blond had on a cheerful smile. Her clothes were eclectic at best – flowing black skirt and a pale blue corset with dots of white flowers. "I don't understand French," Harry murmured, dropping his gaze.

"English?"

"Yes."

"Hmm…"

Harry's eyebrows shot up when the woman took the seat opposite to him uninvited. He frowned at her in confusion. "What is your name?" she asked, motioning to the server with a raised hand.

"Harry. And yours?"

"Luna."

They sat in silence for a while, Harry trying not to get bothered with Luna's dreamy gaze. When the waiter came over, Luna ordered a drink and looked at Harry questioningly. Harry shook his head, indicating to his lukewarm coffee in front of him. Luna tilted her head thoughtfully before rattling off in French to the waiter, who nodded and took off back inside the café. "You are so lonely," Luna said, almost to herself.

"Um…"

"Alone. Er – solitary? I don't know… Solitary? Alone?"

Harry shrugged. "Yes."

"City of love! Paris! Why are you so sad?"

Harry looked at Luna blankly. She bit her lip as she twirled her blond hair with her fingers.

"Sad… er – depressed? Don't be sad, 'Arry."

"I don't understand," Harry said helplessly, wondering what this woman wanted from him.

Luna sighed in frustration. "You," she pointed at Harry. "Sad," she pulled the corners of her lips down into a melancholy face. "Not happy," she said, shaking her head at him. She exaggerated her doe eyes and downturned lips, blinking at Harry.

"Sad?"

"Yes!" Luna said, a bright grin on her face. "Sad! You is sad! Why, why?" she asked eagerly.

This woman wanted to know why he was sad? Harry gaped at Luna in wonderment. "I don't know," he shrugged. "I don't know…"

"Did you fight with your lover?" Luna asked, a mischievous glint in her pale eyes. "Furious? Um… angry? With lover? Lover, lover, loverCompanion? Wife?" Luna seemed to be wracking her brain. "I don't know what. Love – lo – lover! Angry of lover! Yes?"

Harry snorted at Luna's triumphant grin. "Angry with my lover…" he repeated. "I – No. No," he said softly.

"Oh," Luna slumped back. "Lover angry?"

Harry smiled wryly. "I hope not," he said. He hoped Blaise had given Draco his message. "I hope not…"

"Melancholy…" she murmured as the server brought out two cups of espresso. She pushed one towards Harry, nodding at him to drink it. Harry took a tentative sip, feeling his taste buds jolting at the strong flavor. "Good?" Luna asked.

"Yes," Harry replied, letting the coffee wake him up.

"You – you desire… you desire lover here? In Paris?"

Harry shrugged again, unsure. Draco was better off without him. So what did it matter if he was here with Harry or not.

"Hopelessly in love," Luna said, shaking her head at Harry knowingly. "If you are – s – sad in Paris," she said slowly, trying to voice her thoughts in the foreign language. "She is – mo – more sad? No?"

Harry froze with the cup halfway up. Luna noticed Harry's inaction and realized she was getting through to him. So she continued. "Paris! City of love! Um… City of love! You are sad in Paris. No one is sad in Paris! Er – you are one man sad in Paris. No… Only man? You are only man sad in Paris. She is more sad, no?"

"N – no. He – he'll get over it," Harry mumbled, his heart faltering. Would Draco be hurt because of Harry leaving?

Luna shook her head apologetically. "I don't understand. She is more sad. You must go home. You – hmm… she is more sad. You go home. She is – what… happy? Yes. You home, she is happy. You are happy," Luna said, a reassuring smile on her lips.

"Home?"

"Yes, home. Home. With lover. Go home. Be happy."