Title: The Well 14/?
Author: eidheann
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~700 (~10,000 total)
Summary: Where there is a wish...
Warnings: angst.
A/N: Many thanks for the comments and support.

Draco stared for a moment, taking in all the changes to Harry's appearance over the past year. He looked good, tanned and strong. Happy. Romania clearly agreed with him, more than England and Draco had, clearly. "I nearly didn't." His voice, he was pleased to note, was as cold and controlled as the rest of him. He could do this.

Harry's face fell slightly, and the familiar awkward shuffle in the doorway was another twist in his chest. "Oh... uh."

"Are you going to invite me in, Potter? Or is whatever you have to say something you want to cover on your front stoop? And if that's the case, I'd prefer to leave now and you can simply owl me."

Harry's jaw tightened, that familiar stubborn expression he wore constantly at Hogwarts, but he gave a brief nod before opening the door enough for Draco to enter. "Please come in." And there, the frustrated rasp behind his words. Draco clung to it as a lifeline; if he could continue to keep Potter off-guard, he could hide how unbalanced he felt being here again.

Glancing around, he noted that the entry had the look of a home well lived in, the clutter that followed Potter everywhere was very much present. He told himself it was messy, not homey, and raised an eyebrow at the pile of trainers by the bench. "I see your house elf still can't keep up." He turned to gauge the reaction to his carefully chosen tone.

He was surprised by the unreadable look he was receiving. Potter looked exasperated, yes, but also something else he couldn't place. The silence stretched a moment, and Draco was determined to not break it. He was not the one who had requested this meeting.

"I'm sorry, Draco." Potter's face was earnest, and Draco pulled himself more tightly together, his face moving from the careful bland disdain he had been maintaining to anger as his control unraveled.

"Sorry? You're sorry? What could the Savior of the Wizarding World have to be sorry about? For fucking vanishing a year ago? Dicking off to Romania and shacking up with a Weasley? Only telling me because I happened to come over and see you packing?"

"Draco-" Harry's expression was slowly transforming from contrite earnestness to frustrated anger.

"No, no Potter. You have nothing to be sorry about. What is a former Death Eater in the balance? Nothing of import, clearly. Nothing worth the simple human decency of telling if you were planning on leaving." Draco stalked forward, shoving Harry backwards. "So if that's the important thing you wanted to tell me in person, then save it." He hissed the final words directly into Potter's face.

"Are you finished?" Draco could hear Harry clinging to patience and control and longed to push harder, to hurt like he had been hurt.

"Yes, Potter, I am quite finished. Good evening." He turned but a hand on his arm stopped him before he moved away. "What?"

"Draco..." Potter's voice was calmer, though his grip was perhaps stronger than it needed to be. He gave a tug. "Draco, look at me." He allowed himself to be turned, but stared at the wall over Potter's shoulder. "Draco, I am sorry, and I would like to talk to you more about this. What I did was inexcusable, but that's not the important thing I needed to discuss."

"What do you want? Just tell me and let me go." He felt like he was surrounded by Harry, and his anger bled away. The smell, the touch, the heat left only pain in it's wake. Harry's grip lightened, his thumb gently rubbing in the way that always calmed him. "Please, Harry. Don't. Not again. I can't do this again."

Harry gave his arm another gentle squeeze, but nodded. "Please come into the study."

Draco nodded and made the familiar trip to the door across the hall. Harry opened the door and stepped aside for him to enter first. He was not looking up, and the voice that greeted him when he entered made him stumble. "Draco..." He stared in shock at his father, sitting in a wingback chair before the burning fire. He didn't hear the door close behind him, as Harry left the two alone in the study.