London Calling

Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I do not own Harry Potter and/or any other characters used in this fic. They are all property of J.K. Rowling.

A/N: Like I said, this is the sequel to Welcome to Paradise. It didn't turn out quite like I wanted, but I like it! Hope you do to!


~*~


“Harry!”

A voice reached Harry’s ears where he lay on his bed in the dorm, staring up at the white, cemented ceiling. He looked over at the plain, wooden door as he heard someone knocking on it.

“Yeah?” he asked. The door was pushed open slowly, and Hermione stuck her head in. She looked around and frowned as she saw him on the bed. He had lifted his head to see who it was but let it fall back on the pillow as she entered.

“You got a letter,” she said, tossing a white envelope on his stomach. He looked at it vaguely, deciding not to open it. Hermione moved over to his side, the bed coming up to her waist as she stood by it.

She looked at Harry closely, noting his faraway gaze as if he wasn’t all there. He’d been like this for quite a while. Ever since they had returned from spring break.

“Harry,” she asked. “Are you still thinking about that guy?”

“How could I not?” Harry asked, his mouth twitching into a smile.

“But you don’t even know his name!” Hermione cried in frustration.

“I know!” Harry agreed. He sighed deeply and sat up on the bed, the letter falling off his stomach and onto the covers.

“Harry,” Hermione said softly. “You’ll probably never see him again.”

“I know,” Harry sighed.

He’d been thinking about the mysterious blonde boy from Hawaii for months now. He couldn’t get him out of his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, piercing silver eyes swam before his vision. He kicked himself everyday for not finding out the boy’s name. He often wondered what it might be. Then again, Hermione was right. It was very possible that he might never see this boy again.

Harry sighed and set his hand down on the bed to push himself off it. It landed on the letter Hermione had handed him. She still stood in the room, giving him a pitying look.

He had bored his friends for the past few months with lamenting stories and sighs of the mysterious boy. They were completely sick of hearing about him and would be very glad once Harry got out of this “phase”.

Harry looked down at the letter and slit it open, removing a piece of paper. As he shook it open, something fell out of it. He didn’t bother to pick it up just yet, reading the letter.

His eyes widened as he read further until he yelled in joy. Hermione, who had picked up what had fallen to the floor and was looking at it curiously, nearly jumped out of her skin as Harry shouted.

“What, what is it?!” she asked in alarm.

Harry jumped off the bed, grabbing Hermione into a hug and twirling her in circles. She clutched the piece of paper she had picked up off the floor as Harry swung her around. When he finally set her down, she took a moment to steady herself and wait for the room to stop spinning.

“What is it, Harry?” she asked again, wondering what could have brought about this change.

“You remember that contest I entered like in December?”

“You mean the one in the mall?” Hermione asked, not sure what he was talking about.

“Yeah! And I won! Hermione, I won!” he exclaimed, practically bouncing up and down with glee.

“And what does that mean?” she asked, still trying to understand. Harry stopped jumping long enough to tell her, though his grin was threatening to break his face.

“I’m going to London! I don’t have to go home to the Dursleys! And I get to take someone with me!” he said with an unbelievable level of enthusiasm.

Hermione looked down at the paper in her hands and now saw that it was two plane tickets to London, England. She looked up at Harry, seeing that he was still grinning like a maniac.

Harry was beyond ecstatic. He always hated going home for the summer. He lived with his relatives as his parents had died when he was young. They had always disliked him for some reason or another. Harry was just lucky he had been friends with Hermione and Ron. He doubted he would have made it if it hadn't been for them.

This also meant an extremely good possibility that he just might see that blonde boy again. Granted, he had no idea where he lived in Britain, or even if he did live in Britain. Maybe he had moved to the United States and just still had the accent… Either way, Harry was determined to find him once more.

Harry looked up at Hermione who had her eyebrows furrowed. He moved closer and nudged her with his elbow. She looked up at him, distracted.

“So, Hermione… how would you feel about going to England?” he asked, grinning.

“What?” she asked, completely surprised. “Me? But what about Ron?”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

***

“You’re taking Hermione to England instead of me?!”

“Ron, you have to admit she’s much better at this kind of thing,” Harry said, trying to placate him.

Ron huffed and scowled at Harry. “And what am I supposed to do this summer then?!”

“Hold down the fort,” Harry said in an upbeat tone and Ron scowled again.

“What fort? I’m going home, remember?”

“Yeah, you know that old fort we used to have behind the house…” Harry trailed off as Ron glared at him. “Okay, but would you really want to go with me and find some guy just so I can fuck him and find out his name?”

Harry watched as Ron’s face wrinkled in disgust at his description of it. Harry knew Ron was supportive, but he disliked hearing anything about it, saying it damaged his ears. This was the only way he could get Ron to agree that Hermione was best for the job.

“Fine,” Ron said finally. “But you know all Hermione’s gonna want to do is go to museums?”

“Yeah, I know,” Harry said, laughing.

“Alright,” Ron said reluctantly. “Well, I guess have fun.”

“Thanks, Ron,” Harry said, standing up and hugging his friend. Ron mumbled something about physical contact and Harry let go, laughing at him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll bring Hermione back in one piece,” Harry said as he was walking out the door, leaving Ron to puzzle on his words as he and Hermione jetted off to London.

***

Draco rolled over restlessly in his bed, further entwining the sheets around his body as he tossed and turned in his sleep. He flipped over violently, waking suddenly.

He was panting as his eyes shot open. It was still dark outside and nothing could be heard except the sound of a few birds who got up before the sun.

Draco groaned and rolled over only to find he had a very obvious problem. He silently cursed himself as he slid a hand down to soothe his aching cock. This was the millionth time he had awoken from a dream filled with the dark-haired boy with vividly green eyes.

For the past few months he had been having repetitive dreams of the boy he had met in Hawaii. Most of the time they simply replayed their shag in the showers but other times, like last night’s dream, they showed the pair in very interesting and compromising positions.

Draco bit his lip to stop his moan as he rubbed his hard member, pleasuring himself. This was not the first time he’d woken up rock hard. As he stroked his penis harder, he thought back to the boy once more.

He had never got the boy’s name. He vaguely recalled it being yelled by one of his friends but it hadn’t stuck in his memory. All he remembered was the boy’s strong hands, toned muscles, beautiful green eyes…

Draco gasped as he came. He bit his lip harder trying to keep quiet as he erupted over his own hand. He reached over and grabbed a towel from the bedside cabinet and quietly cleaned up his mess.

He glanced over at the clock and saw that it was barely 5:30 AM. He groaned to himself, knowing that he would never be able to get back to sleep and even if he did, he would once again be plagued by dreams of the gorgeous raven-haired boy.

Instead, Draco dragged himself out of bed and went to take a long shower. He gathered what he would need and went into the large bathroom that adjoined his room.

The marble tub stood gleaming off to the side and a shower stood in the corner. Draco stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower, turning on the hot water. He let the water cascade over him as he tried to think clearly.

He didn’t know where the boy was. Occasionally his thoughts turned to wondering where he was and what he was doing. He didn't know anything about the boy though. Draco wanted to know more about the boy who wouldn't leave his dreams. He woke up nearly every morning with the same problem, trying to relieve himself while not waking his father.

His father was not all that supportive of Draco's preferences but he tolerated them. Draco smirked as he thought of what his father would say if he told him he was dating an American. He knew that his father wouldn’t approve of him dating an American.

“Supid, bloody pigs, the lot of them,” Lucius always said.

Draco thought that his father was still just bitter over England’s defeat in the Revolutionary war despite the fact that it had been fought over 200 years ago. Of course it may also have just been because American chain stores were gaining in popularity and taking business away from him.

Apparently a store called “Target” was extremely popular in the states and there had been talks of building one in London. Of course, Lucius had been outraged at the possibility, causing him to give Draco a long lecture on how Americans think they own everything.

Draco hardly paid his father any mind. He had no problems with Americans. But the fact that he wanted to date one would thoroughly enrage his father, something he would be quite content to do.

He had never gotten along with his father very well. They didn’t see eye to eye on many things. Draco was just finishing up his second year at the University and his father wanted to send him to Paris to work in the store and get a feel for what it was like. Draco had refused, stating that he would rather stay at home and hang out with his friends.

The row that had followed had not been pretty, but Draco had stood his ground and, in the end, Lucius had given in to his demands, stating that he would have to do it sooner or later. Sooner, if he could manage it.

Draco finished his shower, stepping out and drying himself with a white, fluffy towel. He went back into his room and changed into a pair of black slacks and a baby blue tee shirt that accented his silver-blue eyes well.

By then it was nearly 6:30. Draco padded down to the dining room to find his father already awake. He shook the papers as Draco walked in but didn’t speak to him. Draco sat down at the table and thanked the maid as she set down a plate of food in front of him.

He ate slowly, his mind still on the dream from that morning. He just couldn’t get that boy out of his head. He shook his head and sighed, stabbing his fork into his omelet.

Lucius shook the paper once more and looked over the top at Draco who was picking absently at his food.

“Don’t play with your food, Draco,” he said sternly. “Surely your mother and I have taught you better than that?”

Draco rolled his eyes and set down his fork, staring at the plate. Lucius looked at him closely, able to tell that something wasn’t right.

“What’s wrong, son?” he asked.

Draco looked up at him and tried not to scoff at the obvious attempt to act like a father. He pushed his plate away and rose from the table, ignoring his father’s look of displeasure.

“I’m fine, father,” he lied, leaving the room and the house altogether.

He walked around the house to the garage where all the cars were kept. He fished in his pocket and withdrew a set of keys. He walked over to a small car, a black Mercedes. He unlocked the door with a push of a button and slid inside.

He started the car and took off down the long winding drive that led out to the gate at the end of their property. The gate slid open as he approached and he shot past it. He peeled out onto the road and zoomed off towards the city.

***

Harry and Hermione stepped into the airport after 12 hours of sitting on a huge, overcrowded, stuffy plane. Harry yawned loudly as they walked through the terminal, half asleep. They collected their bags and were met by a man who was there to drive them to the hotel.

Once they were there and checked in, Harry set down his bags and collapsed onto the bed, thoroughly exhausted. Hermione came bustling in, her nose stuck in a guide book of the area. She saw Harry lying on the bed with his eyes closed and nearly shrieked.

“What? What?!” Harry exclaimed, bolting upright at her yell.

“Harry, you can’t go to sleep! The only way to stop jet-lag is to stay awake for the entire time the first day!”

Harry groaned and lay back down on the bed. Hermione walked over and plopped down beside him, elbowing him to keep him awake. She flipped through her guide book, her eyes widening as she read more and more about the city.

“Harry, look! We can go see Buckingham Palace! And the guards, you know, the ones who aren’t supposed to move! Doesn’t that sound incredible, Harry?”

She looked at him expectantly. He yawned again and she scowled.

“Sure, Hermione,” he replied tiredly.

“Harry, come on! We’re in London!”

“I know where we are, Hermione. They told us enough on the plane,” he said, struggling to keep his eyes open.

She scoffed and jerked his arm, pulling him upright. He groaned as she did so but remained sitting. She then began naming all the possible things they could do and all the places she wanted to go, things she wanted to see, where she wanted to shop.

Harry felt sleep overtaking him once more as she rambled on about historic places around the town that she’d like to see and things to do.

“Tell you what, Hermione,” he said, interrupting her recitation of the Shakespeare plays that were playing that week. “If we don’t do something right now, I’m going to fall asleep.”

“Okay,” she said cheerfully, standing up and closing her book, stowing it in her bag. “Let’s go walk around and see what there is.”

They got up from the bed and changed clothes. After being on a plane so long they felt a little disgusting. Harry threw on a pair of jeans and a black shirt. As he looked out the window, he saw a few patches of blue between the mass of grey clouds that covered the sky of the city. He grabbed the umbrella he had brought with him and made Hermione put it in her bag.

Together they took the elevator down and walked out to the front of the hotel. Harry looked around him, taking in the green trees and cobble-stoned streets. Hermione immediately pulled him to the right and down the sidewalk, talking constantly as she did so.

Harry mainly tuned her out as he took in his surroundings. Small cars zoomed past on the road beside him, honking with their tiny horns. Every few feet was a tree planted in a little box.

Hermione pulled him along, finally coming to the end of the street where there was a large park. Large trees surrounded the area that was covered in very green grass. In the middle of the park was a large marble fountain with a statue in the middle.

Hermione dragged him down one of the paths that lead to the fountain, spouting facts about whoever the statue was. Harry once again wasn’t listening, though he did at least nod along occasionally to make her think that he was.

His eyes strayed from the fountain to a very large house that stood at the other end of the park. It was a very large, white house, appearing to be built out of marble though Harry was sure it wasn’t that. He nudged Hermione, interrupting her running commentary.

“Whose house is that?” he asked, indicating the gigantic house. Hermione turned and studied it. She reached into her bag and pulled out her book, flipping through the pages until she found what she was looking for.

“‘A historic house, once used as a meeting place for rebels during the Reformation, The Host House is now inhabited by one of the prominent members of parliament, Mr. Brant Zabini along with his wife, Zora Zabini, and son, Blaise Zabini.’” Hermione lowered the book as she stopped reading, looking up at the house which seemed so much more elegant than Harry had ever seen.

A black Mercedes was parked just off to the side of the house and Harry wondered why it was parked in front of the house like that. He was about to say something of it to Hermione when the door to the house opened and two men of about Harry’s age came out.

Harry gasped as he caught a glimpse of a silver-blonde head and his heart nearly stopped. Somewhere beside him he heard the sound of Hermione’s book dropping to the ground.

***

Draco pulled to a sudden stop in front of a huge white house. He looked up at the many windows then got out of the car, locking it securely before walking up to the front of the house. He rang the bell and stepped back to wait.

A few moments later, the door was opened by one of the maids in the house. He informed her that he was here to see Blaise and she promptly left to wake him.

Draco stood in the marble entrance hall. He looked at a large vase that stood off to the side, wondering if Pansy would still fit in it. The last time they had tried that, all three of them had been about 8 years old and had been severely reprimanded, but Pansy had fit!

He turned sharply as he heard a noise on the stairs behind him. He looked up to see Blaise stumbling down them, gripping the railing tightly to keep from falling. He looked barely awake as he tripped down a few stairs, grabbing the banister to keep himself up.

Once he reached the bottom, he yawned, stretching his arms up to reveal a few inches of tanned skin underneath his tee shirt. He was still in his pajama pants, not having bothered to get dressed for Draco.

“What do you want?” Blaise asked tiredly. He was struggling to keep his eyes open as he stood in front of Draco, yawning again. “Don’t you know what time it is?”

“Yes,” Draco said simply, sighing. Blaise groaned but followed Draco as he led them out of the entrance hall and into a smaller room to the side that had a small table and a cabinet standing against one wall filled with china.

Blaise called for one of the servants and had them bring him a cup of coffee. He instructed them to pour liberal amounts of sugar in it then turned his attention to Draco.

“So, why are you here?” Blaise asked, leaning on his hands as he rested his elbows on the table.

“I dreamt about him again last night,” Draco told him.

“Again?” Blaise asked slowly, sinking further into his hands on the table.

“I can’t stop thinking about him, Blaise! Will I be forever cursed with dreams of him?”

He looked over at Blaise, whose head had slipped completely onto the table.

“Wake up!” Draco ordered crossly. Blaise sat up quickly.

“I’m awake, I’m awake,” he said through another yawn. Draco merely scowled at him. “I’m sorry, okay? I had a late night.”

“Yeah, a late night,” Draco muttered. “More like you and Seamus did.”

“Well,” Blaise said with a grin. Draco just shook his head at his friend.

“Anyway,” Draco said, trying to get them back on topic. “What am I going to do about this? I can’t stop dreaming about him and I don’t even know his name for fuck’s sake!”

“I don’t know,” Blaise said with a shrug. “You’re just gonna have to forget about him.”

“Oh, right, ‘cause it’s so easy,” Draco drawled sarcastically. “It’s been three months, Blaise! If I was going to forget about him, it would have been done by now!”

Blaise sighed, knowing nothing he could say would change anything. Draco had made up his mind that he wasn’t going to forget this boy for some reason or another.

They sat in silence for a long time afterwards. Blaise finally got his coffee and he sipped it, trying to wake up. The silence was only broken by Blaise’s yawns and Draco’s occasional huffs.

Outside, the sun had risen over the park that stood just off the edge of Blaise’s property. The birds were singing shrilly outside the window, apparently trying to be as annoying as possible that morning.

By 8:00, Draco was still sitting at the table, his head resting on it as he tried to figure out a solution to his problem. Blaise had his legs curled up to his chest on the chair, still trying to wake up properly. They heard a noise from the entrance hall and both turned to the source of the noise.

Draco lifted his head off the table reluctantly and Blaise swiveled his head around to look. Moments later, a sandy-haired boy came in the room, looking like the only one who was truly awake.

Blaise gave him a tired smile and Draco merely nodded, placing his head back on the table. Seamus gave him an odd look before walking over to his boyfriend and kissing him softly.

“I woke up and you were gone. I thought you’d left me,” Seamus said jokingly. Blaise let down his knees and pulled Seamus into his lap.

“No, Draco here just needed some advice.”

Draco looked up once more and stared at Blaise.

“And what advice did you give me?” he asked. “To forget? Some great advice you’ve got there, Blaise.”

“What do you need advice with?” Seamus asked.

“No, no, nothing,” Draco muttered, rising from the table. “I should probably be going anyway before my father has a fit.”

Seamus and Blaise walked with Draco to the front door. Blaise and Draco went out the door, Blaise stopping in the doorway and watching as Draco walked to his car, pulling out his keys.

*

Harry stared in absolute shock as he saw the mystery boy emerge from the house and start walking towards the Mercedes parked in front of it. He was so shocked that he couldn’t do anything. He just stood rooted to the spot as he watched the boy near his car.

It was Hermione who first snapped out of the shock. She gave Harry a push, nearly knocking him over in his stupor.

“Do something!” she hissed.

“What?!” Harry asked, unable to think of anything to do. His brain wasn’t functioning properly at the moment.

“Anything! Quick!”

“B-but I don’t even know his name!” Harry cried irrationally, losing his head completely.

The boy was almost to the car now, removing his keys from his pocket. Beside him, Hermione was making worried noises.

“Do something, Harry, NOW!” she exclaimed, giving him another hard push. He stumbled forward, nearly panicking.

Here was his one chance to get the boy’s attention and possibly the last time he might ever see him.

“I—wha—you, hey!” he finally called, stumbling around his words.

Draco stopped as he heard someone yelling. He looked up for the source of the noise and saw two people standing on one of the paths in the park looking at him.

He squinted as he looked at them, thinking they looked oddly familiar. It wasn’t until he caught sight of the boy’s messy hair that he realized. He nearly dropped his key in shock as he stared at the boy.

Harry inwardly cringed, almost secretly hoping the boy hadn’t heard him. He felt so stupid all of a sudden. But he saw the boy freeze and knew he had.

“Oh no, oh no,” Harry muttered to himself, panicked, as the boy started to walk towards him. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god… why did I do that?!”

Hermione watched as he started to fall to pieces as the boy neared them. She grabbed him suddenly and slapped him across the face. He stared at her for a second then let out a breath.

“Thanks, I needed that.”

“I could tell,” she said, smiling at him. She let go of him and he smoothed down his shirt, watching as the blonde boy neared them.

The boy approached them carefully, surveying Harry closely, almost suspiciously. When he got near enough, he stopped, still looking at Harry closely.

“You,” he breathed, sounding surprised and shocked. Harry gave him a nervous smile.

“And you,” he said with a smile. Hermione stood in the background, grinning at the two of them.

“I—um…” Draco said, not knowing what to say but Harry talked instead.

“I didn’t mean to surprise you, actually I didn’t even think I would actually find you. And then you just kind of appeared and I had to do something ‘cause I’ve been thinking about you for months and I don’t even know your name and I had no idea where or how to find you. I mean, you might not have even lived in Britain! There are plenty of people who move to the U.S. and still have their accents! How was I supposed to know if you weren’t one of those? And then I won this drawing and I thought maybe I’ll go to London, get lucky maybe, I don’t know. And of course, it’s not like I know anything about London and—“

“Whoa, stop,” Draco interrupted Harry as he continued to ramble nervously. Harry stopped suddenly.

When he got nervous his nerves always took over, letting him rattle on about something or other without actually realizing what he was saying. He usually wasn’t this nervous, he was usually far more confident, but something about this boy made him a nervous wreck after not seeing him for so long.

“Sorry,” he apologized. Draco paused, looking at him closely again.

Neither had noticed that Hermione had long slipped off to leave them alone and to do some sight-seeing on her own.

“You said you’ve been thinking about me for months?” he asked.

“Did I?” Harry asked, cursing himself for letting his nerves get the best of him. “Uh… I guess there’s no point in lying, so yes.”

Draco paused again, thinking hard. He glanced up at Harry, noting that the boy was just as handsome now as he had been three months before. His eyes slid over his pouty lips, his tousled hair, strong arms.

“You still don’t know my name,” Draco said finally, giving Harry a smirk, his silver eyes dancing mischievously.

“Alright,” Harry said. “I’m Harry Potter.” He held out hand to Draco and waited.

“Draco, Draco Malfoy,” Draco said, taking the extended hand. He was taken by surprise as Harry jerked the hand towards him, pulling Draco into a long-awaited kiss.

The kiss was long and slow, full of burning passion just waiting to be released. Draco whimpered, melting into the kiss, as his mouth was plundered by Harry’s strong tongue, taking what he’d wanted for many months.

When he pulled away, he grinned at Draco.

“Well, Draco,” he said, making sure to use his name. “This looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

“Oh, and so much more,” Draco said, pulling him back to his lips.

***

Ron stood anxiously in the airport, standing on his tippy toes to see over the crowd, looking for either Harry or Hermione.

He was still craning his neck to see when something hit him with the force of a small car. He staggered backwards a few feet and realized it was Hermione hugging him. She let go of him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

He immediately blushed as he stared at her. She stepped back, grinning shyly. She looked over to the crowd where Harry was emerging with a blonde boy following him closely. Ron momentarily forgot about Hermione’s kiss as he stared at Harry who grabbed the boy’s hand and led him over to where Hermione and Ron were.

“Ron,” Harry said cheerfully, letting go of Draco’s hand and pulling him into a hug. “I’d like you to meet Draco.”

Ron gave Draco a nod as he was unable to do much more than that. He was shocked by the outcome to say the least.

“We managed to convince Draco’s father that it would be a good idea to open up a store in the U.S. So he sent Draco out here to scope it out,” Harry told Ron, nuzzling into Draco’s neck.

Draco smirked as the red-head continued to look bewildered. They all ignored Ron’s silence and together walked out to Ron’s car before loading up and driving away.

In the car, Draco snuggled up to Harry, sighing happily. He thought back to when he had brought Harry home to his father and had convinced Lucius that a store in America would be a good idea. Draco looked up at Harry and smiled.

“You are an excellent negotiator,” he told him, kissing him softly.

“Just you wait,” Harry murmured back, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss.

Hermione glanced up at the rear-view mirror and smiled. She glanced over at Ron who had his eyes firmly on the road. She smiled again and reached over, resting a hand on his arm lightly. He looked down then at her and gave her a small smile as well. She turned back to the road, watching as the yellow lines flicked past as they drove home.


~*~

A/N: Please excuse the descriptions if they seem off. I've never been to London :( or Hawaii for that matter ;)

Please review!