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I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Second Chance – Part 2

Draco had woken up at St. Mungo's a few times over the years and he had never found the experience to be particularly pleasant. Actually, it'd always been rather depressing. Besides the fact that each time he had been admitted to St Mungo's he'd been physically ill in some way, the truly depressing part was always how few people cared. Mostly his trips here had been work related and thus he had a few visits from colleagues, but nobody else. He had no friends, no family, and it was never more obvious than when he was ill.

He groaned. His muscles were aching.

"Draco?" There it was again, that meek, scared little voice; it was hard to believe it belonged to Potter, but it did.

Draco groaned again, still unable to wrap his tongue around any coherent words.

"It's okay, don't move," Potter instructed him, calming his movements with a gentle hand. "They sedated you to assess the damage to your vital organs. Apparently you were without oxygen for a little while, but it all seems to be okay. I promised the nurse I would tell her when you woke so just relax; I'll be back in a moment." Potter was gone before Draco had a chance to ask him what he was doing there in the first place.

Potter's presence had always unnerved him and he was beginning to think it was because he'd always suspected Potter's attentions extended beyond his position as Department Head, or a supportive colleague. Now that he knew for sure that was the case, Potter made him even more nervous.

Potter returned with a Healer and twitched nervously in the corner as he watched her check Draco's eyes, throat, reflexes, and breathing. As she worked she spoke to him, but so far she'd only asked him questions which could be answered easily with a movement of his head. After ensuring he was generally quite healthy, she wanted him to test his voice box. "Tell me your name," she requested. Draco took a deep breath and tried to speak, but it came out as a mumble and a sigh. "That's okay, just try again for me."

He cleared his throat painfully. "Draco," he rasped.

"Good," she smiled at him and then walked over to talk to Potter. "Sit and chat to him for a while if you have time, the more he uses his voice the easier it will be for him. We'll keep him overnight, but he should be feeling right as rain tomorrow." Potter nodded and the woman left.

"You're looking much better," Potter commented as he approached the bed.

"What are-" Draco coughed; his throat ached, but he persevered. "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to make sure you didn't need anything," he said, scuffing his foot on the ground uncomfortably.

"They have medi-witches for that," Draco answered haughtily, but his broken voice didn't carry quite the same smug tone as it used to. "What do you want?"

"I was there when you – when it happened, and I wanted to make sure you were okay," he replied. "I didn't want you to wake up by yourself."

That last comment almost hurt to hear, but he wasn't about to admit to it, or accept Potter's pity visit. Draco was about to brush him off again and tell him that was quite unnecessary when he remembered what the strange man from the afterlife had told him. Potter was his true love, his destiny, and if necessary he was to force himself to accept it. "Thanks," he said instead, but didn't elaborate. Potter seemed encouraged by this one monotone word and pushed the visitors chair towards the bed so he might sit closer to him. Draco was a little freaked out by it.

"How are you feeling?" Potter asked.

"Fine, actually," Draco wheezed, not sounding particularly convincing. "I don't know why they want me to stay here; I'd be more comfortable at home."

"Perhaps I can talk to them about it," he offered and Draco wasn't sure if he wanted to accept. It'd be nice if he could get out of this stinking hospital, but he didn't want to encourage Potter to become too involved in his life – not yet anyway. "Maybe I could stay with you for a few days so you wouldn't be alone and bring you back in if they want to do a check up?" That settled it.

"No, it's only one night," Draco reasoned. "Besides, I don't really feel up to moving about much."

"Oh," Potter frowned with concern. "Is there anything I can do? Anything you need?"

"Yeah a bit of quiet would be nice, maybe you should go home for a while," Draco said, trying not to sound too ungrateful, although he didn't quite succeed. Potter looked crushed, his whole body sank lower into the chair and he nodded.

As he watched Potter leave the room he started to feel even worse than he had before, he knew he was supposed to be trying to accept him and he shouldn't be pushing him away like this, but he couldn't help it. It was too much, too soon.

He relaxed back into the hardness of the mattress underneath him and sighed. It was possible that everything he thought he'd experienced while he was dead had been a dream. That world, that man, his so-called destiny, all of it could have simply been a work of his own mind. Whether that man was real or not, Potter was still interested and either way Draco was going to have to decide what to do about it.

He thought about being with Potter, imagined their life together and what it might feel like. He imagined Potter as his boyfriend, his life partner, and it wasn't awful. Potter was hot, even a straight man would be able to see that, he was intelligent – most of the time – and resourceful. He could certainly match Draco in a fight, but could they carry on a proper conversation? Draco realized he'd never really tried. Now that he thought about it, he realized that Potter had been trying to talk to him for months, even years, and he'd never properly responded; the man's persistence was astonishing really.

Perhaps he should give Potter a chance and go on a date with him….

Draco sighed. He knew he couldn't, he should, but he couldn't. The truth was he was scared. Having meaningless flings with men who didn't know him was one thing, but dating Potter would be entirely different. Whether it was because of the dream he'd had, or because of their history, Draco didn't know, but he did know that Potter could never be a fling. Potter would want more than a brief relationship, that's just how he was, and Draco wasn't sure he could give him that. He wanted to love someone and to have them for the rest of his life, however long that was, but he had never been confident that he knew how to do that.

If his otherworldly experience had been real then he was in an impossible situation. He couldn't date Potter because he wasn't sure he would be able to give him everything he wanted, but he couldn't not date him or he might die again, and he didn't expect to get another chance at life. Draco scoffed at his own thoughts. When he worded it like that, even in his mind, it sounded ridiculous. Date Potter or die? It was too unbelievable, there was no way it was true.

"Contemplating the meaning of life now you've had a near death experience?" Draco looked up to see Quinton stroll into his room still smiling as he always did, but even Draco could see his smile was strained with worry.

"Yeah, well, apparently it wasn't my time," Draco replied, smiling weakly at his own personal joke.

"Must still have something important to do here," Quinton mused, making his way up to the armchair Potter had occupied by the bed. Draco didn't reply, he didn't know what to say. There was every chance he did have something more to achieve in his life, like fulfilling his destiny with Potter. He knew it sounded stupid that Potter was his true love, but he was also not stupid enough to completely rule it out when the consequences may be fatal for him. He had seen more than enough 'impossible' to know better than to do that. "Well, in any case, I'm glad you decided to stick around," Quinton said, and then with a genuine smile he added, "and so is Harry."

Draco tried to control his expression at this comment, but he couldn't; his eyes widened, his body tensed, and he blinked stupidly at his friend. Quinton had teased him before about Potter's apparent attraction to him, but this time his friend's tone held something different – something serious. "Yeah, right," he laughed awkwardly after regaining some of his composure.

"Dude, you can't keep ignoring him forever. He's completely infatuated with you," Quinton challenged him. "Everybody knows and they all think you're crazy for rejecting him every time."

"He's not infatuated with me, he doesn't even know me," Draco argued, confessing out loud an insecurity he didn't even know had. "He's probably conjured up some idea in his head about what I'm like and he thinks I'm better than I am, or maybe he thinks I'm damaged and he wants to save me like he tries to save everyone else. I mean, he's Harry Potter for fuck's sake, don't you know how stupid it is to think that he would have feelings for me? Me! We haven't even had a real conversation!"

"You talk to each other at work all the time," Quinton argued reasonably. "Just because you haven't really talked outside of that doesn't mean the guy doesn't know what he likes. You're a brilliant Auror and I can see how much he admires that in you. Maybe you should give him a chance and let him get to know you outside of work."

Draco sighed, knowing his friend was right, but wishing he wasn't. He couldn't ignore Potter forever, especially not now that it seemed like they had some kind of predestined future together. "I know I should, but…I don't even know him, and if it doesn't work out it will be awkward at work," he retorted. "Haven't you ever heard the saying 'don't shit where you eat'? Potter is my boss."

"I'm not asking you to shit anywhere," Quinton replied, trying not to laugh as he did. "All I'm saying is that maybe you should get to know each other a bit outside of the office as friends, and if friends is all it ever gets to, well, then there will be no weirdness. But I think you'd be great together, I really do."

"Are you sure you're straight? Look at you match-making two guys together," Draco teased, attempting to take the focus off him for a while. Perceptive as he always was, Quinton seemed to understand and he started to drone on about the latest girl he had his eye on.

Draco just closed his eyes and relaxed back into his bed.

"Do you have everything you need?" Potter asked Draco for the hundredth time. "I distributed some of your cases while you were away so they can sit with the others for a while if you need some time to get back into it."

"I don't need any time, Potter," Draco growled with frustration. Potter had been hovering over him all morning and it was starting to get to him; he could never be in a relationship with this man if he didn't learn to give him some space. "I'm perfectly healthy, just tell me who has which of my cases so I can get an update on where they are at now."

Potter sighed as he sank into the chair opposite Draco's desk. He gave Draco the information he wanted, but looked reluctant to leave once he did. "Let me know if you need anything, won't you?" he said again, and Draco rolled his eyes.

"Get out of my office before I report you to the Head of Department," he teased and with a soft laugh Potter left him alone with his thoughts.

He'd thought about his predicament with Potter extensively over the last week since he'd died and then come back to life, and, to be perfectly honest, he hadn't reached any kind of conclusion. He had been on forced – and completely unnecessary – bed rest at home for the last couple of days, as per Potter's orders, and he'd had lots of time for his thoughts to chase each other around in circles until he felt dizzy. He came close to deciding to ask Potter out on a date, only to talk himself out of the idea, and then back into it, and then out of it again, until he wasn't sure about anything anymore.

Eventually he'd simply promised himself that he would decide what to do later, and for now he would focus on catching up on his cases. He was busy all day, but somehow didn't manage to catch up on a damn thing. He was interrupted so many times by his colleagues, by Floo calls, and by Potter's persistent fussing that by the afternoon he had calmly accepted that he would have to stay late because he knew he would achieve nothing until there was no one else around to bother him.

For what felt like the thousandth time that day, Draco heard a sharp knock on his doorframe and he looked up to see Quinton standing there. "How's your first day back?" he asked. "Wishing you'd choked on that olive properly, are you?"

"Yes, ha, ha," Draco replied dryly. "Despite all the mundane aspects of my life, and Potter in here fretting over me every half hour, I'm still just happy to be here. It's been rather harshly put into perspective that I only get one life, I shouldn't waste it."

"You say that, but you haven't actually acted on it," Quinton said, sounding almost as if he were lecturing Draco. "You can't sit there and tell me you're going to make the most out of life when you're wasting the most important opportunity life has given you because you're scared."

"What are you talking about?" Draco scoffed, although he had a feeling he knew what Quinton was about to say.

"Harry, you prat," he snapped. "He's been waiting for you to ask him out for months and now you're too busy worrying about what might happen if you do. Maybe you'll actually be happy for once in your fucking life! You are allowed to be happy, Draco, you can't punish yourself forever for mistakes you made when you were a child under the instruction of your deluded father."

"Shut the fuck up, Quinton!" Draco hissed in warning, and Quinton frowned. "You don't know anything about my father! Why do you even care so much if I go out with Potter or not!? It's none of your business!"

Quinton didn't even get a chance to respond when they were joined in Draco's small office – much to Draco's horror – by their boss. Potter stepped in the room and quickly closed the door. "Boys," he greeted them evenly. "Is there a problem here?"

Panic took over Draco's body and closed up his throat so he couldn't speak. Did Potter hear him screaming about dating him? Did he hear Quinton's uncomfortably-close-to-the-truth assessment of his subconscious reluctance to allow himself to be happy?

Quinton stared at Potter for a long moment before he glanced meaningfully at Draco and said, "Draco's had a pretty terrible day, Boss. I think he needs to go for a drink or two at the pub tonight." Quinton looked at Draco as he spoke and then he turned to head for the door, but not before giving his friend another smile. "I'd stay away from the Martinis though, Draco, they don't seem to agree with you."

Quinton clicked the door shut as he left and Draco exhaled the air he was holding in his lungs. He had only known Quinton for a few short years, but the man understood him like he'd known him his whole life; it was a gift Quinton possessed with most people and it came in very useful when he was trying to connect and empathize with a person of interest on a case.

"Had a bad day, huh?" Potter asked, drawing Draco's attention to him.

Draco froze again, unsure of what he wanted to do. He'd had so long to think about it, and had made up and changed his mind so often he didn't even find himself favouring one choice over another. "Yeah, I haven't managed to do much of anything today, despite my best efforts," he replied.

"Yes, we all have days like that," Potter acknowledged with a nod, and then turned slightly as if to leave. "I'll just leave you to it then, if you're okay?"

Draco panicked; Potter couldn't leave yet, he hadn't made up his mind about whether he should ask him for that drink or not. Quinton had given him the perfect opening and he knew if he didn't take it then, he never would. "Um," he hummed, and Potter stopped to listen to Draco's next words. "It has been a pretty terrible day and, er, I could use a drink," he said, and Potter just blinked at him in surprise. "Drinking has been rather dangerous for me of late," he continued, trying to make light of what he was about to say. "It might be safer if I didn't do it alone, and, um, well, you were pretty helpful last time."

"Yes! Yes," Potter cleared his throat awkwardly as he repeated his acceptance in slightly less of a shout than the first time. "Yes, of course, I can, um…." He had started backing up towards the door as if he wanted to run. "That sounds – oh, there's a bookshelf right there!" he exclaimed as he backed up into the piece of furniture; the corner looked like it had rather sharply jabbed him in his ribs. "That'd be great, yeah, so, um, six?" Potter had continued walking backwards to the door, despite learning the hard way why that wasn't a good idea.

"Yeah, six is great," Draco replied, biting his lip as he tried not to laugh at how completely thrown Potter was at the simple offer of an after work drink.

"Great, yeah, sex – I mean six!" Potter stammered, and Draco nearly choked on his own breath. Potter's slip of the tongue seemed to only increase his desire to retreat and he spun around to rush out the door, except he forgot Draco's door was closed and he ran right into it. Draco heard Potter swear under his breath as he fumbled with the door handle and literally ran from Draco's office.

It was all Draco could do not to laugh.

The pub was quiet which wasn't surprising since it was a Monday, but Draco was glad for the limited number of patrons at the bar because it would afford he and Potter a relatively private first date – or pre-first date, as Draco had decided to use this time with Potter to decide if he wanted to date him properly.

"I'll get us both a drink if you want to choose a table?" Potter suggested, although it was more of a question. Draco just nodded. "What would you like? I'm guessing you've changed your usual drink," he teased slightly.

"Er, yeah, I haven't decided what it'll be yet," Draco frowned, trying to think of what else he liked to drink. "Just get me one of whatever you're drinking – oh, and maybe some hot chips too."

Potter made his way up to the bar to order and Draco scanned the room for a table – it wasn't their usual bar, Draco had decided to avoid the scene of his brush with death and opt for somewhere new. Besides, he wasn't sure yet what he thought about being on a pre-first date with Potter and it would be better for them both not to be seen together by anyone they knew.

There was a private place in the corner which might be nice if he knew Potter better, but not for a pre-first date; he didn't want Potter to think he wanted any kind of canoodling and that booth just screamed 'canoodling'. Instead Draco chose a table a little more open, but private enough that the Daily Prophet wouldn't be down here taking photos to splash across the paper declaring their relationship before it had even begun.

"Here you go," Potter announced as he handed Draco a drink and a bowl of chips. Draco took a sip of his drink, curious as to what Potter had bought him.

"Gin and Tonic?" Draco questioned, almost positive at his guess.

"Yeah, well, you always ordered a Gin Martini so I thought I'd stick with what I knew you liked," Potter replied with a slight blush of embarrassment. It was sort of attractive.

"It's good," Draco complimented him and took another sip before reaching for the bowl of chips; his stomach had been growling since late afternoon and he didn't want to embarrass himself as it became more demanding.

"Thanks for inviting me out, I know that Quinton pushed you into doing it," Potter said, starting off their conversation.

"Please," Draco huffed, "like Quinton could make me ask you out if I didn't want to."

Potter's grin dominated his face and Draco realized what he'd just said; he supposed their pre-first date had just been upgraded to first date with those words. "Oh," Potter sighed, blushing even more than before. As he watched the brunet's eyelashes flutter beautifully, he supposed he didn't mind too much at the upgrade; the man was gorgeous, he wondered why he'd never thought about it before. "So, um, you had a bad day, did you?" Potter said, obviously trying to encourage him to talk.

"Yeah, it wasn't great, but I don't want to talk about work," Draco replied. "Let's talk about something else."

"Alright, what would you like to talk about?" Potter reached over and took one of Draco's chips.

"I dunno," Draco shrugged. "Tell me what you do when you're not a work."

"Okay, well, I live by myself so there's not much incentive for me to be home early which means I usually get home at about half seven, have something to eat and then go over some stuff for work before bed," Potter explained matter-of-factly and Draco rolled his eyes.

"Great, so basically you work, eat, work, and then sleep?" he teased and Potter laughed softly.

"Yeah, well when you put it like that it makes me sound like I have no life," he chuckled.

"Doesn't sound like you do," Draco quipped. "What about on the weekends then?"

"On the weekends I play Quidditch with some of the Weasleys," Potter answered with a small smile. "It's me, Ron, George, Bill, Charlie, Ginny, Neville and a few others; we have our own amateur team and we play on Sundays. Afterwards we all go back to the Burrow and Molly makes us dinner, it's really excellent to be able to see everyone so regularly."

"Sounds positively delightful, what do you do on Saturdays?" Draco was enjoying this small insight into Potter's life; he was starting to see him outside of that office and he wanted to know more. He could imagine him on his broom surrounded by redheads and all their little red haired children watching below them as they flew around the pitch.

"Oh, well, I do different things on Saturdays," he replied, biting his lip as he thought about his answer. "Cleaning, shopping, sometimes I work – I know, don't look at me like that – sometimes I go out to a club, and sometimes I stay in and watch Rose and Hugo while Hermione and Ron have an evening to themselves."

"Interesting," Draco mused. "So, clubbing, huh? Where do you like to go?"

The two men talked for a solid two hours before they both decided to give in and simply order dinner at the pub as well so they could stay longer. Draco questioned Harry for as long as the brunet would stand it before he turned the tables and questioned Draco in return. Often they found topics they could both talk about like Quidditch, travelling, some books, and inevitably work, although mostly they talked about their colleagues rather than their cases. Draco found Potter to be refreshingly hilarious and not at all intimidated by his dry sense of humour as some people were. In fact, Potter almost always knew when he was joking and he delighted in it throwing deadpan comments right back at Draco until they were both in stitches.

"Uh, I'm sorry guys, but we're closing up, you're going to have to pack it up," the bartender informed them, interrupting a rather funny anecdote Draco was sharing about a trip he took to Germany when he'd gotten confused with the language and found himself lost in Muggle Berlin. As they walked out of the establishment, practically wrapped around each other in their hilarity, Draco told Potter how he had ended up staying in a Muggle hotel in Berlin where he discovered electricity for the first time.

"I couldn't figure out how those Muggles could fit inside that black rectangle! It seemed almost like magic except I knew Muggles couldn't do magic!" Draco explained, and Potter laughed uproariously beside him, almost tripping over a pot plant as he did.

"Did you ever figure it out?" he asked, righting himself and gripping on to Draco's arms for support. They were standing awfully close.

"No," Draco whispered, suddenly aware of how warm Potter's breath was on his face. "I started to research it and then I realized I really didn't care; they were only Muggles after all."

"Right," Harry sighed, blowing his sweet scent across Draco's nose as he leaned in to capture his first, long-awaited kiss from the blond.

Potter took him slowly and carefully as though he might break and Draco thought he might have been taking his time, wanting to remember everything in case they never got to kiss again. It was so intoxicating Draco was paralyzed into submission, letting Potter claim his lips and used them as he would. When Potter slipped his tongue inside Draco's mouth the blond was able to taste him properly and it was surprisingly nice. He hadn't given much thought as to what his boss would taste like if he ever got the opportunity, but if he had thought about it, he never would have guessed Potter would have been delicious – or gentle. Potter was always so tough and steady when he fought, he was quick and rough with people as he arrested them – particularly the ones they'd spent some time hunting – Draco never thought those hands, which were lightly encouraging him closer, could have been so deftly persuasive.

Potter pulled away from him so they could both catch their breath. "Mmm, Draco," he sighed, and Draco stiffened.

"Oh, um, I have to – I should-" Draco struggled his way out of Potter's arms and began to back away. "I have, um… it's late and I'll, er, yeah…." He turned and began walking down the street.

"Wait!" Potter called out after him as he tried to follow. "Draco!"

Draco turned to see Potter jogging after him. He quickly ducked into a deserted alleyway and Apparated the hell out of there; he saw Potter watching him go from the mouth of the alley, and he felt a pang of guilt. It couldn't be helped though; he had to get out of there. He'd been kissing Potter before he'd even thought about it and he still didn't really know what he wanted. It still sounded ridiculous to him; Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy?

Yes, completely ridiculous.

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