Dragonfly_lily (dragonfly_lily) wrote in scarsandsilver,

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Title: The Grave of Dreams
Author: Chisox727
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: pre-slash, language, angst
Pairing: HP/DM
Word count: 1281, long one this time
Disclaimer: Owned by J.K. Rowling, except for the title of the coffee which is owned by Starbucks and is a personal favorite of mine.
Summary: Because no one could ever refer to Draco as sunny.
A/N: Written for jamie2109 and nocturnali's AWDT prompt of “Where were you last night?” with bonus points if the phrase “I want coffee”, is thrown in as well.

Also…this is Part 5 of the Not Quite Perfect arc.

Part 1 here: http://chisox727.livejournal.com/23814.html#cutid1
Part 2 here: http://chisox727.livejournal.com/24447.html#cutid2
Part 3 here: http://chisox727.livejournal.com/26394.html#cutid3
Part 4 here: http://chisox727.livejournal.com/27329.html#cutid4

It had been nearly a week since the disaster at Potter’s house. Five blissfully quiet days where Draco hadn’t spent any amount of time thinking about that git. He would never waste his time worrying about what Potter had meant when he said he ‘was going to have his way with me one day.’ As if that would be okay with him? Certainly not!

As it was Draco was enjoying a Venti Caramel Macchiato at the local coffee house and reading the Saturday morning paper. He didn’t normally go out this early in the day, but he had awoken to the thought, ‘I want coffee!’ It was a peaceful and welcome change to the madness that had been his life the last week. Work at the bank had been insane. The Muggles were oblivious to the Wizarding side and the Wizards were embarrassingly fascinated with the Muggle money and banking practices. Draco worked in the back, underwriting loans, and had changed his last name to protect himself from prejudice that seemed to plague him in his early years. While he still looked the same, his new name provided him enough of a cover that he didn’t cringe every time he was called out by some co-worker. He had moved to the Chelsea neighborhood because of its assiduous anonymity. People were just too damn busy in New York to notice you, and that fit Draco just fine.

Originally, he had left England for a brief holiday. The battle had ended and he had finished his last year of schooling under an extreme amount of stress. Actually, if he was to be honest, the year before that had been quite awful, too. He had become an adult literally overnight. One day he was enjoying his reign as the king of Slytherin and the next, his father had been imprisoned in Azkaban and he was the new head-of-house at Malfoy Manor. As a child, he had truly believed in his father’s, and later Voldemort’s, rhetoric, but that began to change as he aged and matured. The final straw was placed on the fire of doubt once his father was captured and no support was provided. All the Malfoy heir had received were summons to do missions for The Dark Lord and punishment for his father’s failure.

Finding the missing Horcruxes after the end of sixth year had been a stroke of luck, really. His mother had been arrested two days after his ‘escape’ from Hogwarts. The Aurors had invaded the Manor looking for the ‘Horrifying Hogwarts Fugitives’, as the Daily Prophet had repulsively named them, and she had been caught trying to protect his father’s secret collections after dueling with an Auror.

They had taken all of the “dark” items, but Draco knew that his father’s true gems were well hidden in his private safe. And that safe would never have been kept in someplace as common as Gringotts. Snape had insisted they stop at the Manor after the Aurors were gone so they could retrieve the items. At the time Draco didn’t realize the magnitude of what they had found and was distraught when Snape wanted to contact Professor McGonagall. He played off that he was conflicted when Snape badgered him to ‘switch sides’ but Draco was shrewd enough to know that it was the best choice, given what had been found. So, as it turned out, it was the best thing that could have happened for all involved that Draco and Snape brought in the missing Horcruxes.

Seventh year started late, the first of November, after the final battle, the succession of war trials and the celebration ceremonies. As such, Graduation was held near the end of August and the younger years only had days off before the next term. Draco had been glad to pass his N.E.W.T.s and leave the castle, as he had never felt safe once he deflected. The Slytherins were relentless with their pranks and abuse. The rest of the school avoided him. Draco hadn’t really expected anything else. No one wanted to associate with someone whose parents were in Azkaban. Severus had gifted Draco with a thousand Galleons for his successes (and where Snape found that kind of money was beyond him) and had encouraged him to ‘go see the world’ instead of returning to an empty family home.

That was how he found his way to Manhattan, the working world and into his relatively peaceful existence. That was until Potter arrived. Potter. Even the name spat out as if it were a curse. Potter. Potter. If Draco tried hard enough he could hear the venom striking as he aimed at the name. Potter.

“Where were you last night?” Harry said, shaking Draco out of his thoughts. Instantly he was convinced that he must still be in bed and having a nightmare because there was no possible way that Potter could appear like that. It was if his thoughts had called out to him. Damn him with his sneaking up at the most unexpected moments! It was a good thing Draco wasn’t a spy during the war because he would have been killed straight away!

“What are you blathering on about now, Potter?” Draco asked in as bored of a tone as he could muster.

“Harry. The name is Harry. You can call me that, you know?” Potter said, trying for that disarming smile again.

Draco just stared at the intruder.

Clearing his throat Harry tried again, “Um…I asked where you were last night?”

“No. I believe you asked, ‘Where were you last night?’ as if you would have any idea where I would normally spend my Friday nights.” He could tell by the blush creeping up Harry’s neck that he did know where Draco spent Friday nights.

“Potter! Are you stalking me?” Draco spat, fighting between his anger at being followed and delight at getting to spit poison all over the name.

Harry’s face turned the most violent shade of crimson. “No! No, of course not! I just…I just happened to notice…”

“Happened to notice what, Potter?” Draco asked.

“I just happened to notice that you are usually at that dance club on Chelsea St.,” Harry mumbled. When he noticed Draco’s outrageous look he added, “When I walk the dogs, I mean! When I walk the dogs I sometimes see you there.”

“When you walk the dogs?” Draco slowly asked. “When you walk your three, very small dogs down the non-residential, mainly nightclubs street. That was when you noticed me? Inside a dark, very crowded, dance club? The one I usually don’t go to until well after 10 pm? That’s the place you ‘happen to notice me’, Potter?”

“Um…well…I…well, you see…” Harry stuttered.

“I get it, Potter. I ‘see’ more than you do,” Draco said as he stood and grabbed his paper and coffee. “I ‘see’ that you’re following me. I ‘see’ that you keep trying to have these chance encounters. I ‘see’ that your behavior hasn’t changed much from 6th and 7th years when you were obsessed with my every move; obsessed with my every action. I ‘see’ better than I have in years.”

Harry looked absolutely wounded by the words and Draco thought that this should have made him feel better, finally ‘getting’ to Potter.

“Draco, wait. I…want to explain,” Harry tried, his voice not carrying the usual confidence.

With the coldest look he could generate already painted onto his face, Draco said, “No explanation needed, Potter. Just stay the fuck away from me.”

As he stormed out, Draco could feel Harry staring at him and he could only imagine the defeated look that followed him.


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