Harry held the coffee cup loose in his hands , his fingers barely gripping it. The coffee was scalding hot and the thought of dropping it on the table or worse, in his lap, was decidedly unappealing. So he carefully placed it back on the table.
It was odd, but his grip on things had loosened considerably. He wondered if it was just an indication that he was losing the reins of his life. His grip on reality. The thought didn't bother him as much as it ought to have.
Or maybe he was just too far gone in his delusions to care.
"Are you alright Harry?" Ginny's familiar voice drifted over to him and he turned to look at his wife of five years. She was staring at him in ...sympathy? apathy? fear? pity?
It was hard to make out. Ginny was still one of the most beautiful women of his acquaintance and the years had added nothing but a few well placed curves and a motherly softness, everything he'd once wanted.
Or thought he'd wanted.
" I'm fine Gin." He smiled easily, his features relaxing and his lips curving . Ginny seemed to give a small sigh of relief as she returned back to the planner she was scribbling in.
They were sitting outside one of the small coffee shops in Diagon Alley, waiting for Ron and Hermione. It was a warm and a little sultry , surprising, for a late September day. Oxygen was almost non-existent and he fought the urge to loosen the top few buttons of his shirt. Ginny hated that.
He looked left and right, smiling courteously at some of the people he recognized. Everyone moved about cheerfully and it was almost as if he were living the dream.
With the wrong person.
But it wasn't Ginevra's fault. She hadn't known. No one knew.
Harry sighed. Some days were better than others. On some days, he could pretend. He could pretend that it was all for the best. That he was better off this way.
You're Harry Potter. The Harry Potter. Can you imagine the scandal this would cause? Especially after the extravagant wedding you had a few years ago.
Yes. It would be a scandal . And he was too tired, too exhausted to handle the press, the questions and the judging.
He shuddered.
He would be judged, by every single eye that rested on him. He didn't need that.
So he stayed silent, sipping his coffee , making small talk with his beautiful wife.
He was living the dream, yes.
Someone else's dream.
"You're such a twat!" Draco mutters, the words from his mouth in complete contrast to the twinkling in his eyes . His wide-spaced, mercurial blue eyes. Blaise could never get over how absolutely perfect his eyes were. Shifting color, turning blue one second, icy grey the next. Draco's eyes were the windows to his soul and he had the purest soul in the world.
And right now, his soul shows utter ridicule for Blaise's idea to go down to the common room and neck around on the couch.
"No. You're just chicken." Blaise sticks out his tongue. He doesn't meant it of course. Draco was one of the bravest people he knew.
"But its the middle of the night!You can't be that horny." Draco teases, hands trailing playfully to the waistband of Blaise's sweatpants . Blaise rolls his eyes and moves his hips, closer to the questing fingers. He is aroused, not in a painful way but aroused nonetheless. Draco feels the evidence under his fingertips and his eyes darken. Icy grey.
"As you can see, I am. " He moves closer, lips stopping a hairsbreadth away from Draco's. He knows what will happen next. Draco would move closer , his soft pouty lips moving over his in a familiar dance.
He isn't disappointed.
"Sir. Sir, are you alright?" Blaise pulled himself out of his trance, eyes blinking blearily as he tried to gauge his surroundings. Where was he?
It took him a few seconds to realize he'd fallen asleep over his breakfast. He stares at the half eaten pancakes and muddy brown coffee that was probably too cold for consumption. He sighed, rubbing the heels of his palm into his eyes.
"The bill, please. "
As he waited for the bill,he tried not to think of the dream he'd had. It wasn't new. Just rare. There were plenty of familiar dreams, ones that came often, sometime more than once in the same night. But some, like this, were tucked far away in the back of his mind and came to him in unaccepted places.
It was like, with nothing better to do, his mind was dredging up every single memory of Draco and forcing him to relive them. Memories that he hadn't even known existed. And he knew why.
Now that Draco wasn't around to make new ones, he was trying to sustain his soul by living in the past. He clung to those memories like oxygen, essential for his very existence.
He knew it was unhealthy. He just didn't know how to stop.
When the bill came, he paid quickly. When he walked out into the streets he felt something sting his eyes and blinked back tears.
Damn you, Draco. If you had to go, why didn't you take me with you?
Harry was sure he was imagining things. He blinked twice, just to be sure.
And then he stood up.
"Ginny, I'll be back." He said absently. Ginny looked surprised and followed his line of sight. If Harry noticed the look of resignation on his wife's face, he didn't comment.
Instead he moved out of the shop, picking up his coat on the way out. He tried to move faster,but his legs were a lot shorter than his quarry and by the time he reached him and tapped his shoulders, Harry was panting.
The taller man looked shocked and then a smile lit up his handsome face.
"Harry." He said cheerfully. Harry found himself grinning back, a thousand emotions flitting through him.
"I..Blaise. How are you?" He was awkwardly aware that they were standing in the middle of the street. People were having a hard time walking around them. Blaise seemed to read his mind and the next second, his warm fingers wrapped around his forearm, pulling him swiftly but gently to the pavement.
They moved to a small alcove next to the apothecary's and Harry took a moment to just stare at the other man, taking in the sharp handsome planes and the clear soft skin.
"I'm fine Harry. How are you ?Where's Ginevra?" Blaise asked, looking left and right.
"She's.. She's fine. So... " Suddenly he was tongue tied, not sure what to sure where to begin.
I missed you. Why didn't you try to meet me?
"Thats good to hear. I hope you're getting along well." Blaise still had his hand on Harry's forearm and he seemed to realize it all of a sudden. He pulled back and cleared his throat . Harry tried not to notice and smiled instead.
" Oh, as well as can be expected. What about you?" Harry knew that they sounded more like distant acquaintances, as opposed to good friends.
Best friends.
"Well, I'm getting by." Blaise smiled, a sad broken smile which was very different from the vibrant grin that Harry remembered. Harry felt his heart ache with inadequacy. He wanted to help. He wanted to do something, anything to help him, to make him smile again. He would've sold his heart and soul , just to see that old Blaise back.
So he just smiled and reached out, touching his shoulders. It was awkward and uncomfortable but he was grateful. Grateful for that small connection.
Blaise cleared his throat again.
"I.. I should get going." He squinted into the clouds were gathering and the humidity in the air had vanished, replaced by a wind that was picking up, even as they spoke.
"Yes." It was hardly an answer but it was all Harry could manage as he tried to ignore the sudden tightening in his chest.
Blaise began moving away and Harry reached out, fingers tightening on the others sleeve.
He gripped it hard, aware of the sudden strength in his fingers.
"Can.. Can.. we meet up..? This weekend?" His voice was shaking, making up for the confidence in his grip.
Blaise opened his mouth to respond and then sighed.
"I think its best if we don't."
And he understood. Blaise wasn't yet.
So he just smiled and nodded, like it was alright and watched him leave. He watched him turn the corner and then he sighed. As he started back to the coffee shop,he felt a few drops of rain and by the time he reached their table, Ron and Hermione were waiting for him. He smiled, a genuine happy smile as he greeted his best friends.
But as he watched, Ron kissed Hermione lightly and Hermione blushed. His mind automatically shifted to the man he'd met a few minutes earlier.
He'd sell his heart and soul to make him happy.
But his heart and soul weren't his to sell.