Falling

2 years later

It wasn’t exactly where Draco would normally be seen. It was a tiny bar, in some no name town. The place was run down, paint chipping off exposing bare wood. Outside he could hear muggle music. Wrinkling his nose in distaste, Draco walked through the door.

The man he was to see was sitting at a table near the bar. Draco plastered a smile on his face. The Malfoy manor had been extremely hard to get rid of. Draco didn’t quite want the large property, since he was mostly staying in London since graduation at Hogwarts. But no one had seemed to want the beautiful stone property, since one of the most renown death eaters had lived there. Most people, with their stupid superstitions, said it was cursed.

The man was balding at the top. Large and round. Hardly any neck at all. He was short, which made his width all the more evident. He had dark beady eyes, and seemed to never stop sweating. He grinned, standing, and shaking Draco’s hand.

With a sneer that would have made his father proud, Draco pulled his hand away. He sat down, his back ridged. “This is a very…interesting place, Mr. Goldentertem.”

“Call me Mark. It’s a place my father used to come to. Grew up around here, we did. Wonderful little town. We have the best damn bartender this side of London.”

“I highly doubt that.” Draco looked over at the bartender. His back was turned to him. He had dark black hair, unruly. Wide shoulders, tapering down into a slim waist, and a round firm arse. A lump rose in Draco’s throat, remembering Harry Potter for probably the millionth time since he graduated.

Since that one fateful afternoon in the hall with Potter, Draco hadn’t forgotten him. Never forgot those words. Never forgot the look in those emerald eyes. “What’s his name?”

“Calls himself Brad. Nice guy, he is. Now about your property.” Tearing his eyes away from the figure obviously flirting with a girl at the bar, Draco forced his attention back to the fat man. “I think your price is just a little steep.”

“It won’t be lowered. If that’s all you were going to say, I bid you good day.” Draco made to leave, knowing this would cause the man to panic. Draco knew he wanted the house. He could see it in his eyes.

“Now wait just one minute. Sit, please. me me get you a drink.” He waved at the bartender, who Draco was now ignoring. No more thoughts of Potter. No more thoughts of Potter. No more thoughts of Potter.

“The price is not negotiable.” Draco stated firmly. A glass was set down by a rather tanned hand, and Draco recognized it almost immediately. He had dreamt about those hands for quite some time. Looking up, he met equally surprised emerald eyes. “Ha-”

“These are on the house boys.” He interrupted. With that he turned, heading back over to the bar.

“Nice guy, Brad is.”

“When did he come here?”

“Couple years back. Started working as a dish boy, but Frank, the owner of the bar, loved’em so much, let’em start working in the front. Frank died last summer, and with no relatives known, he left the place to Brad. Good guy he is.”

“Right.” Draco couldn’t take his eyes away from Harry. Brad now, was it? Everyone had wondered where the not so Golden Boy had disappeared to. Rumors flew for a while, but eventually died down.

Sipping at his beer, Draco turned back to the fat man, who was talking non-stop. What was he saying? Was Harry staring at him? Did he even remember Draco? Maybe he didn’t. No, he had to have. How could Harry forget…forget his utter disgust.

Who was he kidding? Harry didn’t want Draco. Hadn’t ever really wanted him. He had made that perfectly clear. “You listening Drake?”

“Draco. My name is Draco. And yes, I’m listening to your incoherent babble.”

Stiffening, the man frowned. “I don’t think-”

“Either you want the place or not. You’re wasting my time.” Draco said coldly.

“Alright then. Yes, I’ll take it.”

“Good, I’ll be expecting the payment in full within this week. Sign here.” Draco grabbed his papers, and nearly threw them down onto the table. The man signed, grumbling to himself. Why was he taking so long? He had to hurry, he had to get the hell out of this bar and get as far away from Harry as he c.
.

Snatching back the papers, Draco nodded to the man curtly. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

Quickly, Draco shoved the papers in the briefcase he had brought and nearly ran out of the bar. The fresh air was just what Draco needed. He took a deep breath, calming his nerves.

“Draco Malfoy. Never expected to see you again.” The voice was soft, but amused all the same.

Turning, Draco placed a smirk on his lips though he didn’t quite feel like doing it. What the hell was the matter with him? He was a Malfoy. He was better than this half breed in front of him. “Harry Potter, I’m glad to see you climbed your way up the fame ladder.”

“Try not to say that too loud. I don’t want any of the witches or wizards in this town to know. As far as they know, I’m Brad Smith, and that’s how it’s going to stay.” Not caring whether or not Draco noticed, Harry looked the blond up and down. “You look nice. Is that real silk?”

“Of course. I only wear the best.” He said, holding his chin high.

“I can imagine.” Harry leaned against the wall. When had he become so casually graceful?

“Is there anything you want Harry? Or do you enjoy taking up my time?” Draco replied coldly.

“Just wanting to say hello to my old rival.” The amusement flickered slightly, and he coughed. “I also wanted to…I wanted…oh fuck it. Good day Draco, good seeing you again.”

Torn between stopping Harry anding ing what he was going to say, and running as far away from him as possible, Draco stood his ground and watched Harry disappear back into the bar.


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