Well, I'm still here. . . they haven't started taking down the stories :)

BloodyRose90- I knew you'd appreciate the angst. There be more to come . . . look at the title

LalalaSpacingInPandaLand- aw, I made you cry. tears of joy by the end, I hope ;)

rileygar25- the more angst, the better the sex, right?

jememj- yeah, last chapter was one of my favorites too. It was fun to write all the emotional confrontations

clary girl two, TearsOfTheHeart7, cassy1994 & Her Pillow James- patience is a virtue lol

FantasyFiend09, Blueberry709, WitchRavenFox & hwangpah- I'm so glad the consensus seems to be that Draco is justified in his turning Harry away. I imagine that it took so much for him to let himself fall in love, the he completely shut down when Harry broke things off. (and Yay! Coldplay)

QuirkyKitty93 & Kisa167- both good ideas, but Harry's going to-oh, you'll find out this chapter.

ClaireBouldwin- wow, I left you speechless :D

princessmelodina- Aw, love to the reviewers too! :)

Thanks also to Brooding Darkness, flounder123, Evi15, Guest, 19missybaker63, Moyima, YaDiz96 and luvsallthingsslash for reading and reviewing!

I love my readers! You are the best. You encourage me so much that sometimes I actually think I ought to do something with some of the original stuff I've written . . . Lol -sorry, just got carried away. Back to reality, er, I mean fantasy . . .

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day ninety, Friday

"Oi Harry," Ron poked his head in Harry's office. "How 'bout coming over for supper tonight? Mione's making Shepherd's Pie." He laughed. "She can't cook much, but she's pretty good at that."

Harry looked up from his desk and attempted a smile.

"Gee thanks, Ron, but I've got a lot of work to do," he answered. "Being away so long really put me behind."

Ron's shoulders slumped. "It's Friday," he pointed out. "And besides, you're not going to get all of it done in one night."

"I know, but I just hate to have it linger."

"Are you avoiding me and Mione?"

"What? No, of course not," Harry lied. It was really only a half lie. He wasn't avoiding Hermione. She already knew his deepest secrets. But Ron wasn't privy to all that Harry had been through during his unexpected hiatus. Not for lacking of trying on Ron's part. He had asked so many questions that Harry had to make up details, some of which he had forgotten. It was simply too difficult to keep his stories straight.

"Maybe you ought to go to St. Mungo's for a check up," Ron suggested. "You don't seem yourself since you came back to work. You might have that post-traumatic stress thing."

Insulted by the insinuation, Harry sighed heavily. "Just because I don't want to go to your house for supper, doesn't mean there's anything wrong with me. I don't feel like going out."

"It's more than that, Harry. You seem depressed. I've noticed you staring out the window looking sort of sad."

"You sound like Hermione."

Ron blushed slightly. Harry knew the pair well enough to know that Hermione would have put that idea into Ron's head.

"Mione did mention it, but I have seen you looking out the window with your mind on something. Is it that muggle who found you? Do you miss her? Did you like her?"

"Did Hermione say that too?"

Ron grinned. "Nope. Came up with that all by myself," he said proudly. "And since you didn't deny it, I'll assume I'm right. Sometimes I envy the time away you had, living in the woods, a simple muggle life not chasing Death Eaters."

"It was nice," Harry replied. Not truly paying attention to Ron's words, but recalling lazy evenings in Draco's flat.

"So you do like her," Ron grinned. "Why don't you go visit her? She let you stay with her for nine weeks. I'm sure she'd be happy to see you again. Maybe she likes you too."

"It's not that simple," Harry said.

"Because she's a muggle? Nobody cares about that anymore. There are lots of mixed couples nowadays."

"It isn't that." Harry raised his voice a bit. "Please, Ron, leave it alone. It's tiring having to deflect your thousands of questions." He immediately regretted saying that.

"Deflecting my questions? Is that a polite way of saying you've been lying to me?"

"Ron-"

"I can take a hint, mate. Whatever it is, I'll bet Hermione knows all about it, though." Ron turned to leave. "The invitation for supper still stands," he said without looking back.

"Ron, wait," Harry called. "I'm sorry. I have been lying. To everyone, including myself." Harry rested his chin on the heels of his hands.

Ron took a seat. "So, no one found you? What were you doing all that time? Did you really lose your memory?" Ron stopped himself. "I'm asking a thousand questions again, aren't I?"

Harry smiled. "It's okay. I didn't lie that much. I really did lose my memory, or rather, it was taken from me. I wouldn't have spent three days being poked and prodded by that Spell Master if I didn't."

"Sorry mate. Then, what really happened? Was it that bad?"

"Well, after the amnesia, I found myself wandering around Diagon Alley. Except I didn't know what it was or who any of the people greeting me were. I only remembered being a regular boy named Harry Potter living in my Aunt and Uncle's home. I had no recollection of being a wizard, or you, or Mione. I turned a corner and ended up in Knockturn Alley. The people were creepy so I ducked into a shop. The person there knew my name. So . . . I had no choice but to trust him," Harry explained.

"It was a bloke that found you? I don't understand. Why not just say so in the first place?"

"Because," Harry said it as if it were obvious. He sighed heavily at having to spell it out for Ron. "I didn't lie about everything. Just that it was a woman."

"Oh," Ron said quietly as he understood Harry's meaning. He paused for what seemed like an eternity to Harry. "You like this guy?" He finally asked uncomfortably.

Harry nodded.

"Only him, or blokes in general?" The question left Ron's mouth before he could censor himself.

"In general. But him especially," Harry answered. Telling Ron wasn't nearly as painful as he expected it to be.

Ron shook his head. "Well, jeez Harry, I wish you would have told me sooner. I wouldn't have wasted so much time trying to get you and Ginny back together."

Harry laughed. "Then that wasn't my imagination?"

"No. Sorry about that," Ron offered sheepishly. "Mum really wanted the two of you to get married. Does Gin know?"

"No, but the break up was mutual. She seems happy with that Quidditch player she brought to Christmas."

"I guess," Ron shrugged. "And I guess this guy you met didn't, um, feel the same way? Is that why it's not so simple? And obviously he's not a muggle if he was in Knockturn Alley."

Harry cocked his head to the side. "You're being awfully understanding. Are you really okay with it? With me?"

"As long as you don't say you're in love with me or anything," Ron laughed. Then he stiffened up. "You're not, right?"

"No, Ron. I'll leave that to Mione." He got that far off look in his eye again. "But it's just as insane- the man I did fall for. What's even crazier is that he fell for me as well."

"Then what's the problem?"

"It was a fantasy world. When I got my memory back, I broke it off. I wasn't very nice about it."

"So go and apologize," Ron suggested. "Seems like I'm always apologizing for something or another. It always works, though." He winked.

"I tried, but it was too late. He's moving to Paris." Harry didn't say any more, fearing he'd given away too much already. He didn't know if Ron knew about Draco's new shop.

"Bummer," Ron said. "Let's go drown your sorrows in some fire whiskey, then. It's quitting time. Unless you actually have paper work to catch up on," Ron smirked.

"No. Not really," Harry said sheepishly.

"Then come on. I'll take you to the Leaky Cauldron, or wherever you'd like. My treat."

"What about supper at your place?" Harry asked.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot," Ron snickered. "I'll owl Hermione to join us. We can have supper out. Her cooking hasn't really improved much anyway." Ron made a face.

"All right. It's your funeral, though. She won't be happy if she's prepared a muggle dish."

"I'll blame you, mate," Ron grinned. "I really need to cheer up my heartbroken best friend." He put his arm around Harry's shoulder. "She'll do anything for you. Me? That's another story."

The pair laughed and headed down three flights of stairs. Ron stopped briefly to owl Hermione then they left the building. They decided to walk to the tavern, mainly so Ron could try to get some more information out of Harry before they met up with Hermione. If she showed up.

"You're not going to tell me who it is, are you?"

"There's no point," Harry sighed. "Apparently, it's over. And besides, now you know the most important thing. So you can stop sending that pretty young secretary into my office on trivial errands."

Ron laughed. "Deal." He opened the door to the tavern for Harry.

Before he could take a step in, Draco walked through, coming from the other direction. He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at Harry.

"Drake," Harry said, almost inaudibly.

"Harry." Draco cleared his throat. "Potter."

"I thought you moved-" Harry cut off when he saw Mirabelle walk through the door and join Draco.

"Harry!" she said excitedly. She glanced at Ron, Draco and Harry, feeling awkward and somewhat unsure what she had walked into.

"Hello, Mirabelle," Harry smiled and kissed her cheek.

Ron was still holding the door open, his mouth to match. He noticed that Malfoy hadn't taken his eyes off Harry. He also noticed that his expression was not one of a former Death Eater glaring at the Auror who hounded him at his place of business.

Mirabelle held out her hand to Ron. "I'm Mirabelle Goodwin. I work for Mr. Malfoy," she said. "No need to tell me who you are."

Ron took her hand and mumbled, "Nice to meet you."

"May I have a word?" she requested of him. She didn't wait for him to respond. Linking her arm in his, she pulled him away from Harry and Draco, who were still silently staring at one another.

As Mirabelle directed him across the alley, Ron continued to turn around and watch the two men.

"No fucking way," he finally said when they came to a stop. "Malfoy had taken Harry and kept him all that time?"

"Mr. Malfoy didn't take him. He wandered into the shop. Mr. Malfoy-Draco, cared for him and did his best to recover his memories," she told him.

"Fucking Hell," Ron muttered. "Harry can't be in love with Malfoy of all people."

"Did he say that? He's in love with Mr.- Draco? Then why hasn't he come back 'round?"

"Ask your boss. Apparently, he shot Harry down. Typical Malfoy. He was probably just pretending the whole time so he could get back at Harry."

"No, no," she protested. "He's been miserable."

"Good."

Mirabelle shot Ron a look. "Draco didn't share details with me, of course. But he gave me the impression that Harry was the one who broke things off. Once he remembered their past, he said it wouldn't work. I did think Harry went to see him again, but then . . . nothing."

"Well, of course not!" Ron said. "They hate each other."

"There's a fine line between love and hate," Mirabelle smirked.

Thinking about his sometime tumultuous relationship with Hermione, Ron couldn't disagree. But Harry and Malfoy? That wasn't just teasing insults. They seemed truly ready to kill one another at times.

"Maybe," Ron conceded. "But it doesn't matter, Harry said he went back to say he was sorry. He said it was too late. Isn't Malfoy moving to Paris?" he asked hopefully. "I guess that's it then. Right?"

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Meanwhile Harry and Draco stood at the entrance to the tavern, neither knowing exactly what to say. A customer walked out, nearly hitting Harry with the door.

"I suppose we'd better move out of the way," Harry suggested. He took Draco's arm and pulled him to a small space next to the old brick building. He looked down at his hand touching Draco in such a familiar manner. "Oh, sorry," he mumbled and removed his hand.

The conversation began with small talk. "So, are you in town to check up on the shop?"

Quirking an eyebrow, Draco asked, "What do you mean?"

"Haven't you moved to Paris?"

"No, I . . . the only reason for moving to Paris was - " Draco stammered. "Well, it isn't necessary now."

They remained quiet for a moment, each reflecting on the events that changed their plans.

Breaking the silence, Draco asked generically, "How have you been? Back on the job, I suppose. Catching bad guys?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "I'm not back in the field yet." He paused. "I'm miserable."

"Then why don't you get back out into the field?"

"You know that's not what I meant. Why are you being like this?"

"Like what?"

"Acting like I'm a mere acquaintance. But I know you still have feelings for me. I can see it in your eyes."

Draco's stance softened. "Harry, why are you doing this to yourself? We can't be more than acquaintances. Just look at Weasley over there, glaring at us. At me, I should say." He gestured toward the crowds of people in the alley. "Do you think any of them will react differently?

"Don't look at them. Look at me." Harry commanded. "I'm the one who knows you. My regard for you is the only one you should be concerned with. I don't care a whit what any of them think, including Ron."

"You should. The Harry I know wouldn't throw over his best friend for sex."

"But I might for love," Harry replied gently.

"You're as loyal as a labrador," Draco chuckled. "As either Harry." His smile faded. "The problem is, each Harry is loyal to a different . . . kind of love. You shouldn't have to give up one for the other."

"Why do I have to? I'm willing to try. You don't have to let me move back in or anything. But I've just been going through the motions. I miss you. I miss us. Please tell me you haven't moved on."

Draco blushed as Harry's speech began to attract attention of passersby. He stood dumbstruck while several people stopped and stared at the odd couple. They appeared keenly interested in Draco's response.

"All right, on your way then," Ron waved the gawkers away. "Maybe you'd better find a more private place to talk."

"No. Not until he answers me."

Ron had no idea what Harry had asked. But now that he was seeing them up close and personal, it was plain as day that there was passion between Harry and Draco. He had to admit that he'd never seen Harry in such a desperate state over anybody before.

"No. I haven't moved on," Draco said quietly, and Harry faltered slightly with relief. He grabbed the blond's hand and disapparated them away.

Mirabelle sauntered up beside Ron, who'd been left by the pair.

"I guess that's not it after all," she grinned. "And no, he isn't moving. He was planning to, with Harry. But that was before Harry got his memory back, when he was Mr. Redmond, wearing a glamour."

Ron's eyes widened. "You mean that was Harry I saw with Malfoy? He acted more like a pet than a boyfriend,"

Mirabelle giggled. "Yes, well, Harry was a bit like a lost puppy when he first came to us."

"So Malfoy took advantage," Ron stated.

"Oh, I don't know about that," she smiled. "Harry was rather aggressive in his pursuit."

"Pursuit of what?"

"The most eligible gay wizard I've ever seen."

Ron's mouth dropped open. "Harry went after him?"

Mirabelle laughed at Ron's reaction. "He was very romantic, I might add. I don't think Mr. Malfoy could have resisted any harder than he did. But Harry was so smitten." She giggled again.

"Ugh." Ron stuck his tongue out. "I didn't need to hear about that." He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Then you're telling me that Malfoy actually tried to act . . . honorably?"

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes," Ron laughed, then considered the facts. "But, I suppose, maybe he has changed a bit since school," he added begrudgingly.

"Where's Harry?" a familiar voice asked from behind. "And who's this?"

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

"Where are we?" Draco asked.

"Where no one can disturb us. My home," Harry answered. It was an impulse to take Draco there when they disapparated from the Leaky Cauldron. He hoped it wasn't terribly messy.

Draco looked around. The place was as warm and inviting as Harry himself. Though not quite as orderly as Draco's flat, it was clean and neat, with only a few things askew. It appeared lived-in, yet not untidy. And though he didn't actually count them, Draco guessed there to be about twenty photographs of friends and family. Far more than he himself displayed.

As he looked around, his own name on the wall caught his eye. Then he took a step back and realized what he was looking at.

"Is this my mother's family tree? Why is it on your wall?"

"This was Sirius' family home. He willed it to me before he died."

"And why did you keep this?" Draco was curious.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. It has historical significance, I guess. I wasn't sure what to do with it."

Draco ran his hand over the tapestry, touching his mother's name. He touched some of the burn marks as well. He realized that his mother's sister, Andromeda, was missing.

"Drake." Harry's voice immediately drew his attention. "Forget the tapestry. It's just you and me. I meant everything I said back there. I love you. But if you tell me you don't feel the same way," Harry swallowed. "I won't bother you again."

"It won't be easy," Harry continued. "I know that people will stare and talk about us, like they did in the alley. But here, or in your place, we can be ourselves."

Draco finally spoke. "I'm not sure who we are anymore. Are we Harry and Draco, or Drake and Redmond? One feels like strangers and the other, a fantasy."

Harry smiled. "I know what you mean. Sometimes I think back on how I was before . . . before I forgot who I was. I don't like who I see, especially in recent years. Particularly in regards to you, but in other ways too. My life had become monotonous, work driven. No highs, no lows, just existing."

Listening quietly, Draco sat down on a nearby chair. Harry followed suit sitting on the small sofa.

"I'm ashamed to admit this, but going into your shop and riling you up gave me more pleasure than any of the trysts and so-called relationships I tried to have."

"I always knew you were a sadist," Draco remarked with a smirk. It was the first hint of a smile since they ran into each other in Diagon Alley. Even during an awkward and difficult conversation, it was hard for Draco not to fall into the easy rapport he had developed with Harry.

"To be honest," Harry began. "I abused my position as an Auror to harass you. I know that. You must have hated me for it. What I couldn't be honest about is why. I'm not sure if I even understood why."

Draco stood silent, waiting for the explanation.

"At first, I really did think I needed to keep an eye on your business dealings. But, then, you changed. Or maybe you didn't. Maybe I just didn't see you for you before. Either way, you moved on. You grew up and became successful doing something you loved to do. And I was still chasing the bad guys, making the wizarding world safe. I hadn't changed, hadn't grown, and wasn't doing anything I loved. My relationship with Ginny was a joke. Every chance I got, I was sneaking off with some bloke I barely knew. She finally broke up with me." Harry hung his head at the admission. "I was jealous of you. I was miserable. And I wanted to bring you down with me."

"Misery loves company?"

"Exactly," Harry nodded. "Only, I couldn't admit that I wanted your company."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "My company? You mean, bullying me was your way of flirting?"

"I don't think it was quite that conscious. But I did admire the way you rose above all the shit that surrounded you."

Thinking back on the times Harry entered his shop to check his receipts and inventory, Draco couldn't recall any actual flirting. He did recall, however, Mirabelle making several comments implying that Harry was using his job as an excuse to check out Draco's arse. Of course he dismissed them as jests at the time.

"Can you not forgive me?" Harry asked. "I'll beg, if I have to."

"Potter, if I didn't forgive you for that, I never would have taken you in."

"You said 'for that'. Is there something for which you can't forgive me?"

"It's not about forgiveness," Draco tried to explain. "It's just that-" He looked away. "I don't know if I could take it if you left me again."

"I'm so sorry," Harry offered desperately. "When Hermione told me about Teddy, I felt I really couldn't not go with her. He's just a child, and he needs me."

"I needed you too. I've only just gotten used to not having you around anymore. Mostly."

"And you've shut yourself off again." Harry remembered how difficult it was for Draco to open himself up to Harry. He gave Harry his tender heart and the first chance he got, Harry stepped on it.

Draco began picking at his perfectly manicured nails.

"I probably don't deserve another chance," Harry said. "But now I've got both eyes wide open. I promise to-"

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Draco warned.

"Okay. I promise to try my best to make this work." He smiled shyly. "How about that?"

"That's good." Draco smiled back. "Are you sure you want to subject yourself to the criticism you'll receive by choosing . . . someone like me?"

"Not someone like you. You."

"Harry, I don't know," Draco said softly.

Harry closed his eyes. "Please," he whispered. It reminded him of Draco's own plea when Harry first broke things off. His eyes popped open. "I'll have myself Obliviated. I'll give up being an Auror. I'll wear the glamour. We can still move to France." He was getting desperate.

"Harry, I don't want you to do that."

"Then what do I have to do? I'll do it."

"Just be you. The whole you. If you still think you can . . . love me . . ."

The lightbulb finally went on.

"Is that what you think? Only the Redmond part of me loves you?" Harry stood. "Drake, I remember everything you told him, er, me. There were so many things I didn't understand about you before. I do now. I've seen the way you've turned yourself around. And now that all of my memories have been integrated, and I've come to term with my emotions, I can honestly say that I'm in love with you. Harry Potter is in love with Draco Malfoy."

Draco remained seated. He wanted to believe Harry more than anything. The man was just as persistent as he had been as Redmond.

"But are you in love with me?" Harry asked. "Or are you in love with him?"

"You are him," Draco reminded Harry.

"That's not really an answer."

Draco lowered his gaze. "You know I am," he said quietly.

There was no joyful revelation, no running into one another's arms as Harry had hoped.

"But you don't trust me. I've broken your heart to protect my own pride. I wish more than anything I had waited to speak with you after regaining my memory. I was advised not to make any life altering decisions until all my memories were integrated. I was advised to continue with therapy, which I arrogantly refused. It's the single biggest regret I have in recent years, if it's cost me you."

Draco stood, and Harry followed suit. He believed Harry was sincere and he did miss the pair of them together.

"I need to think about it," Draco finally said, encouraging Harry. "Things would be different. Compromises would have to be made. The real world is a harsh place compared to my flat and my shop."

"I know. I'm willing to do whatever it takes," Harry dared to hope.

Draco tried to disapparate. "Why can't I leave?" So much for his dramatic exit.

"Sorry. Charms for protection. I'll show you the door." Harry secretly hoped Draco would stay so they could talk things out.

As he walked out Harry's front door, Draco turned. "Just give me some time."

"As long as you need." Harry wasn't sure what he had just agreed to. He had given complete control over their relationship, or lack thereof, to Draco. He put himself in limbo, for who knew how long. All he could do was wait for Draco to decide if and when he would take Harry back.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

"Ahem," Hermione cleared her throat, waiting for an answer to her question.

While Ron stood like a deer in the headlamps, Mirabelle held out her hand and smiled.

"Mirabelle Goodwin, Mrs. Weasley. It's quite a pleasure to meet you."

Hermione took the offered hand. "Harry's told me about you. He speaks of you quite fondly."

"I'm fond of Harry as well," she smiled.

Looking around, slightly confused, Hermione asked again, "Where is Harry?"

"Uh," Ron stammered. "He's, um, not here."

"I can see that," Hermione rolled her eyes. "I thought we were having supper with him. Was this a ruse to get out of eating my Shepherd's pie?" She hit him with the back of her hand across his shoulder.

"No, I swear," Ron put his hands up in defense. "We were planning to meet you here, but . . ."

"He and Draco went somewhere together," Mirabelle interrupted.

Hermione's eyebrows rose.

"I have something to tell you, Mione. You probably better sit down for this," Ron said solemnly.

"I already know, Ron." She bit her lip.

"What? I knew it," Ron grumbled.

Hermione turned to Mirabelle. "What happened? Harry said Draco was in Paris."

"No. The new shop is there, but he still has this shop to run. Actually, I'll be in charge of the Apothecary in France. I'm learning French," she squealed. "It's so exciting."

Hermione couldn't help smiling along with her. Harry had told her all about his time at the Dragon's Lair. She could see why Harry enjoyed Mirabelle's company.

Mirabelle hooked her arm around Hermione's much the way she had done with Ron. "Come inside. I'll fill you in. With any luck, Harry and Drake- that's what Harry used to call him, will be back together in no time."

Hermione giggled as the girls walked into the Leaky Cauldron, forgetting all about Ron. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. Women and their romantic ideas.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

At least Harry got to explain himself