Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Like The Unlikely	By : Zarafla_Kirtan-Pherrin Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 2581 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling characters and anything related to Harry Potter do not belong to me; I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
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Author's Note: I do not own anything Harry Potter, except for Tony Dubhin and the personalities varying from the JK Rowling characters. I'm only borrowing them for my story! Nothing more! Don't sue!

Chapter 4: Nighttime Wishes

As Draco sat back in the seat of the chilly bus that would take him to his studio, he let his mind wander…

What would it be like if he had the chance to meet up with Harry Potter once again?

He sighed and continued to look out the bus window as it began to pull away from the curb. The blond rubbed his arms roughly, in a hopeless attempt to warm himself; he left his wand back home, as usual. Just when he needed it most, it was stowed away in the drawer of his bedside table in the warm apartment. He could've used it to put a warming charm on himself by now, instead of waiting for the hardly cozy bus to pull up! He pouted as he then looked across at the man in the overcoat-suddenly getting very envious-who dozed with his head on the glass. It was hard to live as a muggle… How can muggles stand to live this way? It was pathetic!

It was then, in the dim of the almost-vacant bus, that Draco noticed that a wand poked out of the man's pocket as the vehicle turned sharply to the left.

His eyes widened. A wizard! What was a wizard doing out here in muggle London? Well-then again-he should've asked himself a long time ago why he himself was doing out here… But it was odd. He hardly saw any witches and wizards, if none, this far away from Diagon Alley. Most were actually either out in the far country, or they lived near or in the wizarding communities. He slumped his shoulders and sighed again. Well, it wasn't unusual nowadays to find a witch or wizard out on their luck with money and seeing them have to make a living out in muggle society just to scrape by. Like himself…

When his father was founded as a Voldemort supporter and put in Azkaban (then later killed), his mother was eventually found in hiding (to Draco's disgust of her cowardice), and was taken prisoner as well. But not Draco. He refused to let himself be linked with a couple of cowardly idiots such as his parents and turned himself in to the Ministry just about a year ago.

During that time of being imprisoned at the Ministry, he encouraged them to use Veritaserum and all other sorts of potions and methods to truth-telling and getting his full account of whether he was a Dark Lord apprentice or not. After many months of grueling speculation and repeating his story to the Minister, they founded him not guilty of any activities that involved him with Death Eaters and the like. So he was free to go, no charges pressed.

But even though he was founded not guilty within the courts, it didn't mean everyone was willing to believe him, no matter what he went through to prove his own innocence. He was still hated for his family ties and for his treatment of a lot of people when he went to Hogwart's. It didn't matter to them. In their eyes, he was no better than his father.

During the time he spent when he had been taken custody within the courts, however, his money, possessions, heirlooms, and home were taken from him to be auctioned off to whatever rich families were left. So when he got out, he had nothing except the money he had on him when he first went to turn himself in. He went homeless for a month.

It was after that time that Draco decided that he had no choice but to become one with the muggles in the lowly back streets of London. He had converted his wizard money into pounds at Gringott's before he left so he could start off someplace and pay for his food and shelter. And only according to his fellow witches and wizards, he vanished, never to return. Some say he even died of starvation in the streets of Knockturn Alley, begging for food.

Well, that was their account of what happened to the last Malfoy heir. He didn't care. His only concerns now were the daily struggles of survival and that distant, glimmering hope that he'd see Potter again and tell him that he was sorry and that he had fallen almost desperately in love with him.

Draco woke with a start, having noticed that he had fallen asleep, when he realized that the bus stopped and the monotone voice of the driver called out "Shirewood Parkway". The wizard in front of him stretched, got up, yawned, and started making his way off the bus. But that's not what made Malfoy stop and stare at him in disbelief. It was that the supposed stranger had unruly dark hair, round glasses, and a faint scar on his forehead.

He had unknowingly been sitting across from the one person he had been anxious to meet for almost what had seemed forever. Harry Potter had just gotten off the bus.

Draco almost thought he'd died from the shock and because he had held in his breath for so long… He gulped in air, desperate to breathe so he'd be able to keep that name locked in his memory. "Shirewood Parkway". He now knew were he lived. At least… he hoped that's were he lived…

Just as the bus shut it's doors, Draco stood and pulled open a window, the night lashing his face cold and red with it's stinging bullets of rain. He saw a gray shadow walk along the misty sidewalk in the opposite direction of where the bus was heading. Desperate, he inhaled as much air as he could and wildly called after the wizard of his dreams.

"HARRY!" But by the time the bus rounded the corner, the blond slunk back through the window, defeat eminent in his eyes. He knew it was too late. Burning tears carved tracks down his ivory, porcelain face, like he was a concrete angel that wept in dismay for eternity, forever captured by the sculpture's chisel.

He didn't know when he'd ever have a chance like that in a million lifetimes. If only he would've figured it out as soon as he saw the wand sticking out of Harry's trench coat pocket. He wished he would've woken the sleeping wizard across from him to see who it was then. He shook his head at the thought. Idiot…

Even if Malfoy knew who it was that sat in front of him, he wouldn't have woken him up and announced himself to his former archnemesis. He knew that there would've only been hatred in those startling green eyes. Potter would've put a hex on him, or worse, killed him. There was a bounty on his head already, posted up nearly everywhere in Knockturn Alley and in the shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. No doubt the surviving Weasley twin wanted him dead as much as anyone else in the wizarding world.

As soon as he got in the door of his flat, Harry walked wraith-like to his bedroom and threw himself on his bed, slightly bouncing as he came into contact with all the overstuffed pillows that covered his mattress. A few of the smaller pillows spilled out from underneath the quilt that sheltered his bed, hitting the hardwood floor with several soft plops.

He moaned in exhaustion, wanting sleep to take him into it's welcoming embrace. But it was never meant to be. He just simply could not sleep this night, like every night for the past several months.

Growling in frustration, seeing as sleep would not allow him through it's blissful doors, he scrambled across the hills of cushions and reached his bedside table. Not bothering with the lamp, Harry scrambled through the drawer in the semi-darkness and closed his fist over a small bottle. Ambian. This should knock him out for a few hours.

Sleeping pills: the wonderful creation that the muggles had come up with as his lifesaver. He allowed himself a small smile.

He unscrewed the cap and tilted the opening onto his hand, only letting two of the pills escape the confines of the bottle. The man with the unruly hair put the cap back on, swallowed the pills whole without water, and dropped the rest of the pills in the drawer. Forgetting to close it, he rolled over onto his back and closed his sleep-deprived, bruised eyes, waiting for the drug-induced sleep to kick in.

But his mind had to wander for a moment on the very confusing situation that had occurred when he had gotten off the bus only moments before…

He had been walking back to his apartment, sluggishly making progress in the rainstorm, when he heard his name being shouted faintly through the cutting wind. Harry had looked back over his shoulder to see the red bus taking off… as well as someone's head going back in from an open window. It was dark, so he was unsure, but he thought he had seen that the person had bleach blond, spiky hair.

Just as he was about to wonder further about the mysterious encounter, his eyelids began to droop. Without further ado, Harry was all too happy to oblige the pills' control on his consciousness. He forgot about the encounter as he finally began to fall in a dreamless sleep.

Author's Note: R&R as always!!
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