8. Bye Bye Baby, OK Go (2:14, played eight times through...but it's a really short song. -.-)

"Then, I'll be seeing you," Draco says with an offhand look back to Harry as he walks out the door. Harry sits, the same position as he's sit as Hermione and Ron left him, too, off to lucrative careers in Creature Rights and the WWW, and leaving him behind. And now even Draco! Off to model who knows what, who knows where, and leaving Harry behind.

"Bye bye baby," Harry whispers, after the door has shut and Harry is alone once again.

[BREAK!]

"Hollywood has never looked better," a gossiper says, with an obvious look at Harry. He walked down the American Boulevard, ignoring everyone and everything, including the snow falling. "Definitely not."

Harry had spent the last five years, since the week after Draco had left him, building up a career in acting. He was very good at it, and he moved to Hollywood. He was lead in three major blockbuster hits, and he was in yet another, with two more planned. He drowned himself in his work, and the parties, and the bodies crowded around him. He was something of a phenomenon on the silver screen, actually.

He walks down the street, as he usually does, just to walk and see what there is to see. He was rich, the American dollars that he's amassed more than he'd ever seen. And he had lots of friends, all disloyal and not what his old friends were at all. But he didn't see them anymore. In fact, he hadn't seen Europe or the Daily Prophet for at least three years, maybe four.

But he needed this. He was alive in the movies and the way people had to act, and move, and they way it all came out like taking a breath.

"Harry!" a voice calls. "It's winter! What are you doing outside like that?" He turns towards the voice, and sighs and goes in.

"Just thinking," he says.

"Think inside, where's it's warm!" she says, scolding her charge. Marietta White, his faithful agent and friend, a bustling red-haired woman who was only five years older than Harry. She had an energy no one could surpass, probably due to the tremendous amount of caffeine she drank on a daily basis.

"I can't," Harry says. "I get all cooped up and then I can only think about leaving." Mari clucks at him, and gets him a coffee, the only thing he couldn't give up, even though it reminded him of...him.

"Well, I have a job for you. They want you to model!" Harry looks up sharply. "That's the same reaction I had, dear. But I said you'd do it all the same. It's nothing too racy or off-colour and it's just print-work, at any rate. So you'll be on a plane to Paris before the week is out!"

Harry sighs, and takes another drag of his coffee. "Really, Mari? I still have that movie..."

"Which is taking a month-long recess, and it's not a breach of contract to take another job during the recess as long as it's over before the break is over. And this will be over, with another week to spare! Hey, you could jump over to England and see family, or friends," Mari says. Harry shoots her a look. "Or not."

"If you insist. I've never had reason to doubt you before," Harry says. He chucks his coffee. "I'm going home." Mari waves him off, and he goes back to his apartment to think.

[BREAK!]

Paris had a light dusting of snow. It was very pretty, and it reminded him of home. He goes to the hotel, and switches on his mobile, leaving a message for Mari that he made it. It was still morning in Paris, and he had a meeting with the designer at noon. He wasn't tired. He was still more used to this time than Hollywood time, and was perfectly refreshed, despite hours on a plane.

He changed clothes and walked downstairs, noting that it was just around ten. He gets breakfast, and a coffee and waits.

[BREAK!]

Harry was in shock. He was partnered up with another man, but it was who the other man was that left him...in shock. Draco strutted on stage, and didn't even blink an eye when he saw Harry. After getting ready, he draped himself over Harry like it was nothing. And Harry could still remember when Draco did this just because he wanted to.

"Harry," Draco says. "We'll talk tonight. But right now, you aren't doing your job. Which would be quite nice to do right now." With that, Harry reluctantly puts all his questions to the back of his mind, and turns towards the camera.

By the end of the day, they had exhausted nine rolls of film on four different outfits, and the designer, almost keening with delight, had said they could skip tomorrow's work as they were doing so well.

Harry grabbed Draco's hand as soon as they were finished, and drags him out into the snow. "Where are we going?"

"My apartment here," Draco says with a shrug. "Big Hollywood star you are, you probably get attention wherever you'd want to eat. I have food though. Let's go." Harry lets him lead, and they walk in silence, until they reach Draco's small apartment studio. Draco stiffens, then turns around to see Harry's bewildered gaze.

His movies...all of his movies, not just the ones where he'd starred in the lead...were on the coffee table, and there were magazines and newspapers scattered about where he'd been interviewed or talked about.

"Draco...?" Harry asks, terribly confused and not bothering to hide it. "What is...?"

"It wasn't just a fling," Draco bursts out. Harry flinches, remembering the similar words Draco had said in their worst, and final fight. "I..."

"It wasn't that I was selfish or scared, or that I was unprepared for after the war," Harry says. "I just needed you. But you left..."

"I..." Draco repeats, still at a loss for words. They had a small hurricane of an affair, hardly even a relationship after the end of the war, and they had both thrived. But then Draco left, without hardly an explanation. "I just...I was seventeen!" Draco finally shouts. "I was seventeen, involved in the losing side of the war, I was scared, and selfish, and so unprepared, and...I didn't think it would ever end, much less that I'd be with you, and that...I didn't know what to do." He pauses, a ragged sigh.

"I didn't think...couldn't hope for...a happy ending with you. You were so sudden...I couldn't grow out of my childish thoughts that I'd have to go, I had to move on because that's what I was trained to do, move on because I'd have to do my fucking duty and get married or some shit...but I couldn't move on. There's never been anyone else. Harry..."

"Draco," Harry says roughly. "You're a lunatic." He ignores Draco's look, and pulls him in for a rough kiss.

"Is that sick Hollywood slang for, "I love you, stay with me forever?" Draco says rather breathlessly after their kiss.

"It is now," Harry says huskily, biting Draco's neck.

[BREAK!]

"What the hell did you do to your neck?" The photographer screams when he sees Draco's neck, littered with countless bruises. Harry grins.