Shades of Blue

[alaana_fair]

Title: Shades of Blue
Author: alaana_fair
Beta: sesheta_66
Britpick: easleyweasley
Word Count: ~7,000
Rating: R - mostly for language and innuendo
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: An unexpected discovery opens Harry's eyes to a world of possibilities. DH compliant with the exception of the epilogue.
Genre: Romance with a tiny bit of adventure and AU
Warnings: DH spoilers
Challenge: For the dracoharry100 Monthly Challenge prompt: Oscar Wilde - "A man can be happy with any woman as long as he does not love her."
Disclaimer: I am not JKR. I receive no monetary gain from this story. I make no claim to any of the characters and mean no offence by any actions they take. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of consent.
Feedback: Rocks my world!

Thanks to queenbarwench and inamac for helping with brit-pickery questions.
Super duper thanks to winter_june for the cool banner!


Shades of Blue

Draco had learned over the years not to expect things, because inevitably, what he expected never occurred, and the unexpected usually turned out to be far better anyway. So when he walked into the Leaky Cauldron on his way to Diagon Alley and saw a very drunk Harry Potter, he walked over and sat down, completely unfazed.

"Not a red letter day for the Ministry's star Auror?"

"It's never a good day, Malfoy. You should know that by now."

"Ooh, back to Malfoy, are we? Something must have really slithered up your trouser leg. Care to share? I always get such enjoyment over listening to you moan." Draco smirked and waggled his eyebrows. "Although this isn't the kind of moaning I'd prefer."

"Fuck off, Draco. I'm really not in the mood for you today."

Harry was trying to scowl, but Draco could tell with just a little more ribbing, he'd crack like a crystal goblet in a hurricane. "You're never in the mood for me, Harry. I think that's part of your problem."

Harry's laugh always made Draco's stomach do odd things and today's drunken chuckle was no exception.

"You never tire of the banter, do you? What do you do with your time when I'm not around to tease?"

Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "You aren't the only straight wizard around you know. There are plenty of guys that I can make squirm, but you're by far my favourite."

"Thanks, I feel so honoured."

As soon as Harry had said it, the smile slipped away and he resumed staring at his Firewhisky. He was never what Draco would call cheerful, but this was as down as Draco had seen him since right after Voldemort's death. It had been a hellish few months for all of them, but especially for Harry. After the initial jubilation had died down, he'd sunken into a deep depression, feeling that he hadn't done enough to prevent all the deaths. Like dying and coming back to life to slay an evil wizard and save the world from chaos was somehow not enough.

"So what gives? Who killed your Kneasel?"

"Nothing, really, just ... just shit, you know?"

"No, idiot, I don't know. If I'd known I wouldn't have asked."

Harry looked up as if Draco had startled him. "Why am I not happy? I have everything I ever wanted, I'm free of Voldemort, I'm one of the best Aurors at the Ministry, everyone adores me, and yet, here I am, hiding from the world trying to drown myself with whisky that tastes like piss."

Draco chuckled and took a drink from Harry's mug. "You're right, it does. I never noticed before."

"Draco, fuck, be serious for once in your miserable life. What am I doing wrong? You went through shit almost as bad as I did. You lost people you loved. How is it that you've managed to be happy yet I can't?"

Draco arched a brow and gave Harry a look of complete incredulity. "Who says I'm happy?"

"No one. You just ... act happy. Aren't you?"

"There are different definitions of happy, Harry. There's true happiness - the kind that bubbles up in your stomach and makes you smile just for the sake of smiling. Then there's being satisfied with what you have, that you've actually lived long enough to have anything at all. That's what my time with dear old Snake-face taught me."

There was a pregnant pause before Harry mumbled, "I always thought Ginny would make me happy."

"Ah," Draco said knowingly. "What does that Muggle author that you're always nattering on about say? Something about being happy as long as-"

"A man can be happy with any woman as long as he does not love her."

Draco chuckled. "Yeah, that's the one. So, do you love her?"

"Yes. No. Hell, I don't know. I'm supposed to love her. I like her, she's great, but-"

"She doesn't make your heart flutter and your bollocks tighten?"

Harry snorted. "Well, no, but I hadn't thought of it quite like that before."

Draco eyed Harry up and down. He wasn't sure when he'd fallen for the man, but he'd fallen and fallen hard. It was just like him to fall in love with the one man he knew he could never have. They'd formed a friendship after the war though, and it was something Draco cherished above just about anything else. And if he could do something ... anything that would make Harry see all of the possibilities in this world, what kind of friend would he be if he didn't do it?

"Come with me. There's something I want to show you." Draco stood and took Harry's hand, pulling him up.

Harry wobbled a bit but managed to stay standing long enough to give Draco a perplexed look. "What do you want to show me?"

"I want you to see what you look like happy."

"What I ... what? Where are we going?"

Harry was cute even at the worst of times, but this slightly drunk and befuddled Harry was something to savour. Draco continued to drag Harry through the door, completely ignoring the question until they were on the street.

"Tell me, Harry, do you think that this" - Draco waved his arms around indicating what he meant by 'this' - "is all there is?"

"What do you mean, ‘is this all there is’?"

"Do you believe this is it? This world as we know it. That this is all there is?"

"You mean, do I believe in an afterlife?"

"No. Not exactly, just ... I can't tell you, but I can show you."

Harry wasn't so drunk that he didn't realise they were sneaking into the Ministry when they shouldn't be, but he was just drunk enough to think it was kind of fun.

"Why are we here, Malfoy?"

Draco smiled. "We're almost there. You'll see."

When the lift opened and the cool voice said, "Department of Mysteries," Harry began to sober up quickly. "Draco...?"

"It's okay, Harry. I'm an Unspeakable, remember? I have clearance, just come on."

It looked a lot different than it had years ago when Harry was last here. The plain black door that had haunted his dreams was gone and in its place sat a quaint desk with a gold label saying "Department of Mysteries - Security". Draco led him past the desk, down a corridor and into the circular room he remembered, but it was brightly lit and looked much less threatening than it had that horrible night of his youth. From there, without any hesitation, Draco turned to the door on his right which opened into what looked like an endless hallway. On either side, for as far as the eye could see, there were hundreds of doors that glistened and shimmered in varying shades of blue.

"What is this place?" Harry asked softly, the quietness of the hallway somehow demanding his respect.

"That's a hard question to answer. It depends on which door you go through." They walked past a dozen doors and Draco stopped. "Here, this is the one I thought you should see. It might ... you might be a bit surprised, so be prepared."

Draco opened the door, took Harry's hand and led him into ... the exact same hallway they had just left.

"What...?"

Draco smiled at Harry's look of confusion. "Trust me; it will be an eye opening experience."

"The last time you asked me to trust you, male strippers showed up at Ron's birthday party."

A hearty laugh escaped before Draco could stop it. "And the look on his face was worth every last Galleon."

They retraced their steps back through the circular room, past the security desk, up the lift and out of the Ministry. Back to the Leaky Cauldron they had just left. But it was ... not the Leaky Cauldron. It was the Golden Cauldron and it was ... beautiful.

"What ... where are we?" Harry asked as he stared in astonishment.

"The hallway we went through is called the Hall of Possibilities. No one's really sure what it is exactly, but from what I've been able to ascertain, it's more like a Hall of Realities. Different realities."

"Are we really here? I mean, can they see us?"

"Yes we're real, but no, they can't see us. It's like going into a Pensieve, but not exactly. We're sort of like what the Muggles call spirits. Sometimes they can sense us, but they can't see us."

Harry still didn't quite understand. "But-" he stopped abruptly when Draco, another Draco, walked through the door, followed by ... another Harry. They were talking. No, they were laughing and ... holding hands? Harry looked at Draco with his mouth hanging wide open.

"As I said, this is us, our world, but not. It's a different reality. Think about it, Harry. Every decision we make affects the world as we know it. In this world I..." Draco looked away from Harry's stare before finishing quietly. "In this world we're friends."

Harry hadn't heard Draco speak with that cringe of regret in a long time and it made his chest constrict. "Draco, we are friends, remember?" When Draco smiled again, for the first time ever, Harry recognised it for what it was. A cover. A mask that he showed the world to hide his insecurities. Harry wasn't sure what to do with that bit of information, but he filed it away and let himself be distracted.

"Look at them, though. Don't they look happy?"

Harry watched with rapt attention as the Harry and Draco of this world sat and ordered two Firewhiskeys. Draco was right, this Harry did looked happy; it showed in the way his eyes sparkled and how a smile was never far from his lips. The two men talked and joked with each other, occasionally leaning over the table to steal a kiss. It was ... intoxicating. He'd never seen anything so utterly beautiful in all of his life.

"Are we...?"

"Married," Draco answered quietly.

"But, how?"

"From what I can tell, the timeline is the same until our sixth year. Something different happened in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. You didn't hex me when I tried to Crucio you and it turned out I couldn't actually do it. I kind of lost it and you, well, instead of making fun of me you ... we talked."

"We ... talked?"

Draco shrugged. "All I know is what I've heard in snippets of conversation and what I've read in their history books. I still tried to kill Dumbledore at the end of that year, but in this world I accepted his help. Professor Snape still killed him and I left with the Death Eaters, but Snape had heard Dumbledore's promise. He gave me a choice; he would hide me away until it was safe or I could stay and become a spy. I stayed."

"But if you were a spy, how … what about the Elder wand?"

"I'm not sure how it happened, but you still ended up with my wand and therefore the Elder wand, but in this world my mother saved your life for an entirely different reason. She did it because I loved you."

Harry was overwhelmed. He pulled out a chair and sat down. "And all of the other doors?"

Draco sat in the chair next to him. "They all go to different realities. I've been to at least a hundred and that's not even the tip of the iceberg. Come on, it's getting late and there's another one you should see." Draco stood and held out his hand. Harry took it but looked back at their look-alikes. They seemed so happy that he somehow didn't want to leave.

Draco tugged at his hand. "Come on. You'll like the next one too."

They walked in silence back to the Ministry, back to the long hallway, back through the shimmering door, down the long hall to another door. Draco opened it and motioned for Harry to go first. When they got to the Atrium, Harry noticed the Fountain of Magical Brethren that had been destroyed in his fifth year still stood, like an omen of things that might have been.

"Where to?" he asked, covering the chill that frosted down his spine.

"Outside," Draco said with a nod.

As soon as they'd stepped out of the telephone box, which for some odd reason was green instead of red, Draco took Harry's arm and Apparated them away.

They reappeared in the middle of a town square that Harry recognized, but couldn't quite place. Draco started walking, and it wasn't until Harry saw the war memorial that he realised where they were.

"Draco, we're in Godric's Hollow."

"Yes, we are."

When they walked past the tall obelisk, Harry paused, waiting for it to change into the statue of his parents, but nothing happened.

"It won't change, Harry. There's no statue of your family here. Follow me, I'll show you."

Draco led him down the same street Hermione had led him down years before, leading him to the home where his parents had died. He hadn't been back since that night. He'd thought about it, but didn't really see the need to stand over his parents’ graves where only dust remained. He knew his parents weren't there, they were somewhere far better.

As they approached the spot where the half-destroyed, overgrown cottage should have been, Harry stopped abruptly and stared. Draco continued on, stopping to wait only after opening the gate that led to a cheerful looking home where candles twinkled through the windows. Harry looked at Draco with a question that burned in his soul.

"Yes, they're alive."

Harry took a deep breath before continuing up the path, stopping only when he was close enough to peek into the window. His parents' faces were lined with age, but there was no mistaking who they were. His mother was making tea, so graceful that every movement seemed almost like a dance, and his father was watching her with such adoration it made Harry's heart ache. This is what he wanted, someone to look at like that, someone to love that much, to share his life with. He'd always thought it would be Ginny, but he knew somewhere deep down inside, that it wasn't. He felt Draco's shoulder rub against his and was infinitely grateful for his comforting presence.

"How did they survive?"

"In this world Voldemort tried to kill Neville Longbottom. Here, he was the Boy Who Lived."

Harry watched as the Floo in the living room activated and out stepped a young woman with raven black hair and piercing green eyes. She hugged his parents and Harry could just make out the words 'Mum' and 'Dad'. He looked to Draco in wide-eyed amazement. "Is that my sister?"

"That's this Harry's sister, yes. He also has two ginger-haired younger brothers."

Harry thought of how wonderful it must be to have this family, how many good times they must have had together.

"Come on, we should be getting back."

"Yeah," Harry said hesitantly, not taking his eyes off of his sister. "What am I like here?"

"Actually, you're a prat." Draco scowled as he said it. "Apparently you followed in your Godfather’s footsteps."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Never mind," Draco said coolly as he turned to walk away.

Harry grabbed his arm and asked again. "No, Draco, what do you mean by that?"

"Let's just say you're quite the heartbreaker and leave it at that."

"Whose heart did I break?" he asked quietly, but from the look on Draco's face he could tell who at least one of them had been. "Yours," he answered for himself.

"No, not mine," Draco snapped. "But the Draco of this reality has yet to get over it." He pulled his arm away and turned back down the path. "We really should be going."

Harry turned to follow him but heard a commotion coming from the house and turned back to see that someone else had Flooed in. He couldn't see who, and wished desperately for some Extendable Ears as he strained to hear the conversation. The words were muffled, but the tone was clear. Whoever it was, he was rude and callous. He saw his mother rush from the room in tears and heard his father yelling. When the man turned around and Harry saw a reflection of himself, he almost fainted. He was ... he had the same stance Dudley always had when he didn't get his way.

A warm hand rested on his shoulder. "We should go."

"Is that ... am I?"

"I already said you were a prat. I just wanted you to see your parents; I didn't think he'd be here. He rarely visits."

"You mean I..." Harry couldn't believe what he was seeing. This Harry had everything he had ever dreamed of. He had parents and apparently siblings, and yet he was a spoiled, obnoxious man like Dudley had been as a child.

"Not I, Harry. He's not you."

"But he's what I could have been. What I might have been had Voldemort not killed my parents."

Draco nodded, knowing it was difficult to process. He took Harry's arm without a word and Apparated them back to the Ministry. They walked quietly back to the Department of Mysteries, and Draco led him through the door that would take them home.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just ... I can't believe a place like that really exists, that there could be worlds out there so different from our own and yet somehow the same. How did you end up doing this?"

Draco shrugged and they began to make their way back to the Leaky Cauldron. The night was cool and there were few people on the streets. It seemed a bit surreal that he had actually shared this with Harry. He'd never told anyone about what he did before. It felt good to have someone to talk to about it. "They needed someone who could handle what they see in there. Someone who could separate a daydream from reality. The last three people who had this job couldn't."

"I suppose they were obliviated after they left. I can't imagine the Ministry would allow people to walk around with this kind of knowledge."

"No, they didn't have to. All three are vacationing at St. Mungo's with your old friend Gilderoy Lockhart. They let me do this because they figure if I end up there it wouldn't be much of a loss." Draco grinned at the appalled look on Harry's face. "It really pisses them off that I seem to be the only one able to handle it."

"Why would ... I mean I know it's a bit overwhelming, but why would it make them...?"

"I've only shown you two realities, Harry. There are thousands of them. Some are like those, where things are just slightly different, but some are ... bad. Really bad. I don't think most people would be able to deal with some of the things I've seen."

"Like what?"

The shiver that engulfed Draco's body had nothing to do with the cool wind that whipped around them. "You don't want to know."

Harry stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and grabbed Draco's arm. "Tell me. I want to know."

The curiosity that burned like fire in those green eyes demanded an answer, but as much as Draco wanted to give in, he couldn't. If Harry knew what atrocities could have befallen this world, if he knew what the results would have been if he'd failed, well, Harry was one of those people that probably couldn't handle it. Draco squared his shoulders and returned Harry's stare with the iron cold look he'd perfected so well as a child. "No."

For a moment it looked as though Harry would argue, but he finally released Draco's arm and they walked in an awkward silence back to where they'd started. Draco felt a need to say something to break the tension of old that had suddenly appeared between them, but he couldn't think of anything appropriate to say. "It's late. I should be getting home."

"Yeah, me too. I'll ... I'll see you around."

The next night Draco found Harry, once again, at the Leaky Cauldron. He was sober this time and was watching the door as though he was expecting someone. When he saw Draco he smiled and waved him over.

Draco ignored the smouldering heat in his stomach at the sight of Harry looking so pleased to see him. "Hi, stranger. Fancy seeing you here again. Are you waiting for someone?"

"Yeah." Harry grinned. "You."

Draco had to shove his hands in his pockets to keep himself from reaching out to touch the man. Harry had no idea what that smile did to him. "I take it you're in the mood for a little more adventure?" He smirked at Harry's eager expression. "Merlin, I've been waiting years to be able to say that to you."

And so it went for the next week. They never made plans to meet, but each night when Draco showed up at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry would be waiting with a sheepish grin on his face. Draco showed him worlds where he'd not become an Auror, but had become a Quidditch player, or a Healer, or even, in one world, the Minister of Magic. Harry found it all very amusing. Especially the one where he'd married Luna Lovegood and had five starry-eyed children. But Draco new the minute he'd walked through the doors of the pub that tonight would be different.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"N'thins wrong, why d'ya ask?" Harry slurred, looking up at Draco with unfocused eyes. The smell of hard liquor was so strong Draco had to fight the urge to step back. Instead, he pulled out a chair and sat next to him.

"What happened?"

"Ginny and I broke up."

"And you're upset by that?"

When Harry laughed, Draco had to grab his arm to keep him from falling from his chair. "Only you would be that blunt, Draco. But no, I'm actually not very bothered by that; it's just ... some of the things she said."

"And what was it that she said?"

"Oh, just that I'm virtually useless. That the hero she fell in love with never really existed, that the only reason I managed to killed Voldemort was that fate had dictated that I would. That I'm nothing more than a pathetic little boy still hiding in a cupboard. I'm sure there was more, but I left before I got to hear it all."

Draco was seething. He was torn between the desire to find Ginny Weasley and hex her to hell, and the need to stay to make sure Harry didn't do anything stupid. Where were all of Harry's friends when he needed them? Draco wasn't equipped to deal with emotional, overwrought men that he wanted to shag so badly he couldn't see straight. Sighing heavily he sobered Harry up with the wave of his wand.

"Do you honestly believe any of that?"

"Yeah, that's just the problem, I do. Don't you?"

He had to admit that at one point in his life he had, but if there was one thing his job had taught him, it was that our choices are what change our world. Fate has nothing to do with it. "Things could have been different, Harry," Draco said softly. "If you'd made different choices, if you'd done things differently, things might have been-"

"Bad?" Harry asked with a look that said he didn't believe Draco for a second. "Show me, Draco. Please."

Draco swallowed hard and made a decision he was terrified he would live to regret. He took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay, but when I say it's time to go, we go. No argument."

Harry was on his feet before Draco could finish. They walked in silence to the Ministry. By now the path was so familiar they didn't even have to think about where they were going and before Draco realised it, they were standing in the Hall of Possibilities, Harry waiting patiently to be told which door to go through.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes, Draco. I need to know. I need to know that everything I did was for a reason. That it really did mean something."

"Okay," Draco said quietly as he walked almost to the end of the corridor. He stopped in front of a door, but paused before opening it. "Harry, before we go in ... think of the worst possible scenario you can imagine and it might prepare you for what you're about to walk into."

When Harry walked through the door the first thing he noticed was the smell. Damp, stale and sickening. The building was decrepit. Every few steps there was a collapsed wall, many of them with a boney hand or foot protruding from the rubble. He felt a tremble begin in his gut and fought the instinct to turn back around and go home.

"Harry...?" Draco laid a hand on the other man's shoulder. "We can go back."

"No, I ... I need to do this."

Outside of the Ministry, the streets were deserted. The colourful shops and restaurants that they usually passed on the way to the Leaky Caldron where nothing but piles of rubbish and burned out shells. Harry looked around, but there wasn't a soul in sight. "Where are all the Muggles?"

"There are no Muggles, Harry. That was Voldemort’s first order of business once he took control. Mass genocide. The lucky ones were rounded up and killed, and the rest were used in experiments or as slaves until Voldemort and his followers got bored of them. It only took ten years before the last Muggle was 'sacrificed'. She was fifteen. They took turns raping her before they set her on fire and watched her burn in the city centre. It was apparently a day of great celebration; there are photos in the history museum if you'd like to see it for yourself."

Harry fought the urge to puke. Draco's voice was cold and unemotional, but Harry could hear the tension under the facade. How did he know all of this? He would have had to come here, read the history, visit the museum. How many times had he walked through the trail of decaying bodies to find out all of this? Now he knew why Draco's predecessors had ended up in St. Mungo's.

"How many times have you been here?"

"Too many, Harry, far too many. Have you seen enough?"

"How did it happen? I mean, how did Voldemort win?"

"He came back in our first year at Hogwarts. This Harry had been afraid of getting into trouble, of getting expelled and sent back to the Dursleys. He ignored the Philosopher’s Stone and he ignored Fluffy."

"So this is all my fault," Harry whispered, more to himself than to Draco.

"No, Harry," Draco said angrily. "Don't you fucking get it? This is what you avoided. This is what could have been had you not made the decisions that you made. This wasn't fate, or prophecy. This was the result of a single decision made by a frightened eleven-year-old. You weren't that frightened eleven-year-old. You made a different decision, chose a different path. Do you understand that?"

"What happened to ... to the other Harry?"

Draco took deep calming breaths, trying to get his emotions under control. He needed to get Harry out of here before ... but the man was here and really, if anyone deserved answers, he did.

"I doubt the history books are very accurate on that point. Voldemort killed him before his twelfth birthday, along with Dumbledore and every other member of the Order of the Phoenix. Within a year of coming back, he'd overthrown the Ministry."

"What happened to ... to the Draco of this world." Harry noticed how the colour drained from Draco's face at the question.

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does," Harry said softly. "It matters to you, I can tell. What happened to him?"

Harry recognised the look in Draco's eyes immediately. It was the same look of self-loathing that he'd mistaken for hate in Snape's eyes the night that Dumbledore had died.

"What do you want me to say, Harry? That I followed in my father's footsteps? That I became the perfect Death Eater. That I raped, tortured and maimed helpless Muggles? That I was there when that little girl burned to death and that I enjoyed it?"

"No, Draco. God, that wasn't you! You would never do this." Harry suddenly wanted to do something, say something that would make Draco realise how very far he was from being the horrible man that this Draco had become. To tell him how much his friendship has meant over the last few years, to make him understand that he was worthy of so much more than he let himself have. But he had no idea how to do that.

"How can you do this, come here and see all of this?"

"Because I'm good at it. I'm a heartless bastard, remember?"

"No you're not. This Draco may be, but you're not. You made different decisions. They weren't always the right ones, but I know that you would never do this."

"It's time to go." Draco turned without another word and left Harry standing in a world of ruins. A world that could have been his.

Draco didn't show up at the Leaky Cauldron for the next three nights so Harry took matters into his own hands. He ignored the stares as he stepped out of the Floo into the Atrium and entered the lift. When the doors clanked open he squared his shoulders and approached the small desk just inside of the Department of Mysteries.

"I'm here to see Draco Malfoy."

The guard outside the Department looked at him nervously. "He's er ... busy at the moment, can I take a message?"

"No," Harry said firmly with his 'I killed Voldemort, I can make short order of you' look. "Go find him. I'll wait."

The little man scurried off and within ten minutes returned with an irritated looking Draco in tow.

"Harry, what are you doing here?"

"I thought we could have lunch."

"You just scared the piss out of the guard and had him drag me out of ... my research to say you'd like to have lunch?"

Harry shrugged, looking a bit chastised. "Yeah, unless you have other plans."

Draco rolled his eyes and couldn't help but laugh. "Handsome wizards aren't exactly standing in line for a lunch date with me, you know."

Harry beamed. "Is that a yes, then?"

"Yes, you idiot. Where do you want to go?"

Harry shuffled his feet nervously, a habit that Draco had always found rather endearing. "I thought maybe we could go to the Golden Cauldron."

"You know we can't eat there. We're mere apparitions, spirits, remember?" Draco lowered his voice and continued in a whisper. "Besides, I can't take you in when other people are around."

Harry simply grinned and held up two items. His invisibility cloak and a small, shrunken picnic basket packed to the rim with food.

Draco arched a brow and grinned. "You want to have a picnic lunch at the Golden Cauldron?"

Harry shrugged and gave Draco a look so irresistible he wouldn't have been able to say no even if he'd wanted to. He shook his head in amusement. "Fine. Go ... get ready, and meet me in the Hall of Possibilities in five minutes."

"Great," Harry said loudly, so that the guard couldn't help but overhear. "I'll see you after work then. Sorry to interrupt."

By the time they walked through the door into the world where there existed a Golden Cauldron instead of a Leaky Cauldron and where there was a married Harry and Draco instead of them, Harry was decisively nervous. He had planned to get Draco's attention, but he hadn't planned much beyond that.

"I ... why haven't you come the last three nights?"

"I hadn't realised we had an arrangement."

"We didn't, you prick, but-"

"Look, Harry, after what you saw ... I didn't think you'd want to go again. I figured you wouldn't even want to talk to me again after-"

"I did. Want to talk to you that is. And go again, but mostly to talk to you."

That flutter was in Draco's stomach again. The one that always appeared whenever Harry said something, or did something that hinted at anything special between them. It happened more often than one would expect, considering Harry was incurably straight.

"Did you really want to go to the Golden Cauldron, or did you just want to see them?"

Harry shuffled his feet again and blushed.

"Okay, then, this way. It's Tuesday. They'll be at that ridiculous Muggle place that this Harry loves so much."

As Harry walked down the street he marvelled at how similar it was to their world. Similar, yet strangely different. The streets were all the same and if Harry didn't look at the signs, he'd think he was home, but then he'd look and the name would be different or sometimes just the spelling. He realised that Draco had rushed on ahead of him while he was gazing around, lost in his own thoughts.

"Draco, wait," he called, sprinting to catch up. "Thanks for taking me the other night. I know it wasn't easy for you, for either of us, but it did help. I don't think I'll doubt the importance of my decisions ever again."

"Good. I'm glad." Draco could tell there was more to this than what Harry was saying, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what. "Harry, why did you want to come back here?"

They entered a small pub and Harry spotted the 'others' right away. You couldn't miss them. They were like a beacon in an otherwise dark and gloomy room. Draco took the picnic basket from Harry and began to unpack it.

"Because now the problem is, I worry about the other choices I've made, the choices I continue to make. What if I make the wrong ones?"

"Most choices aren't a matter of life or death, Harry. If you make a bad one you try to correct it or make a better one next time. No one dies. The world doesn't end."

As Harry sat and watched the others he wondered what it would feel like to be that in love. And when the other Harry leaned over to kiss Draco, he wondered for the first time ever what it would feel like to kiss another man, namely the blond sitting across from him, talking animatedly and teasing him as was his habit.

Draco had been flirting for years and Harry had always assumed it was just a way to get under his skin, a joke that he'd never bored of. But after watching these two, he wasn't so sure. When this Draco would flirt and tease Harry, he had the same mannerisms, the same wicked twinkle in his eyes. Harry realised that when he listened to Draco without thinking of him as the boy he'd known since he was eleven, he seemed to hear more than he ever had and he wondered how much of the teasing had been the truth in disguise.

"What do you think they saw in each other? What do you think brought them together?"

"You're kidding, right? Probably those sexy green eyes and your shaggable arse."

There it was, that breathtaking twinkle. Harry wasn't sure why he did it, it wasn't a conscience decision, but he reached out to where Draco's hand lay on the table and twined their fingers together.

"Harry, what are you doing?"

Draco looked nervous, almost frightened, and for a moment Harry had doubts about what his instincts were telling him. He wasn't gay, at least he didn't think he was, but there had always been something about Draco, something that drew him to the man, even when they had hated each other.

"I'm not entirely sure, but I think I'm making better choices."

"But you're not-"

"I don't know what I am, but maybe it's time to find out."

Draco stared at their hands and said softly, almost a whisper, "I'm not an experiment. This isn't a game to me."

The raw emotion in Draco's voice said far more than his words, and it hit Harry like a bolt of lightning. This man was in love with him, had been for who knows how long, and Harry had never let himself see it. How he'd been able to miss it he would never understand, because right now it was painfully obvious. If he screwed this up, if he hurt Draco, he'd never forgive himself.

"Can we take a walk?"

Draco nodded slightly and pulled his hand away, packing up the remainder of the food and shrinking it back down to fit into his pocket. Once outside the pub, Harry took Draco's hand again to stop him from rushing away. When Draco looked at him, his eyes were a gateway to the man's soul. He was scared and uncertain, and Harry just wanted to see those eyes twinkle again.

"It's not a game to me either. I promise."

"We aren't them," Draco said quietly, regret dripping from every word.

Harry cupped Draco's cheek in his hand, letting the wisps of soft blond hair tickle his fingertips as he leaned forward and kissed him softly. It felt ... amazing. Just the gentle touch of Draco's lips woke something inside of him, something that he'd never known existed, and he realised he wanted so much more than one chaste kiss.

"We may not be so different though." The words were whispered against lips because the warmth of Draco's body was encasing him and he couldn't bring himself to move away. Draco finally did pull away though, and when he did he searched Harry's eyes, for what Harry had no idea, but whatever it was, he found it and smiled. If it had been midnight, Harry was sure that smile would have been able to light up the entire street.

"Do you have any idea how long I've waited for that kiss?"

"Was it what you'd hoped it would be?"

"No. Far too innocent." Draco smirked and gave Harry a look that set Harry's nerves on fire. It was sultry with a bit of a challenge and it was ... sexy as hell. Harry wondered for a minute if he'd bit off more than he could chew, but his Gryffindor courage hadn't abandoned him completely.

"Yeah? Maybe I can do better next time."

"Don't make me wait, Potter. I've waited-"

Harry rather liked this new way of shutting Draco up, and apparently the blond didn't mind because as soon as their lips touched again, long fingers were knitted into his hair, sending every last one of Harry's nerve endings into high alert. He wasn't sure when he’d wrapped his arms around Draco's slender waist, or when he'd parted his lips to allow a warm, demanding tongue entrance, or when, exactly, his cock had decided that boys were just as fun as girls, but none of it really mattered, because standing in the middle of a street in a world not his own, Harry found what had been eluding him his entire life.

When the kiss finally ended, they were both breathless and flushed, and Harry knew this was a decision he would never regret.

"Was that better?"

Draco smiled, wrapping his arms around Harry, sprinkling kisses along his jaw line, tugging teasingly on his ear, giving in to urges that had been years in the making. "Yeah, that was better," he whispered. "But you could still use a bit of practice."

"How about tonight? You could teach me everything you know."

When their eyes met again there was a decadent sparkle mixed with the brilliant grey. "Everything?"

Harry felt something in his stomach lurch and he simply couldn't stop himself from grinning like an idiot. He realised this was the kind of happiness Draco had talked about, the kind he so desperately wanted.

He kissed Draco softly, chasing the shivers that ran up and down his slender neck. "Everything," he said in a silky tone that left no room for doubt. Draco's tiny whimper was like the harps of angels and Harry knew there was no turning back, that this choice would change his future. Maybe he wouldn't grow old surrounded by grandchildren like he'd always thought he would, but he'd have the kind of happiness that bubbles up in your stomach and makes you smile for the sake of smiling. And really, what more could anyone ever want?

Harry had just finished making dinner when his husband came up behind him, wrapping strong arms around his waist and kissing him softly on the neck.

"You're home late."

"I know. I should have sent a note. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Is there something wrong?"

"I went back tonight."

Harry turned in Draco's arms and looked at him curiously. "Went back? Draco, you said you'd stop going, that it was too upsetting."

"I know, but I ... I just had a feeling. I can't explain it. I just had to go one more time."

"And?"

Draco grinned and kissed his husband softly. "And they look just as beautiful together as we do."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "You mean they ... really? I didn't think that Harry would ever get a clue."

"Yeah, me neither, but he finally did, and apparently he's just like you. He jumped in with both feet, without even checking the temperature of the water."

Harry batted him teasingly over the head with an oven mitt and laughed as Draco feigned injury. "So, my illustrious matchmaker, when did all this happen?"

"I don't know, but from what I saw, they've been together for a while."

Laughing, Harry hugged his husband tightly. "Well, I guess you win the bet, then. Too bad I didn't set a time limit."

"Mm-hmm," Draco said as he lavished kisses up and down Harry's neck and tugged his shirt from his trousers. "Too bad for you maybe, but not for me."

"Yeah, yeah," Harry teased, squirming under Draco's ministrations. "So what do you want? Those furry little handcuffs? Satin Ribbons? Gryffindor ties?"

"You said anything, right?"

"Yes, love, anything you want. Not that you don't get that already."

"Oh, I've never had this before, trust me."

Draco paused long enough to pull Harry's shirt over his head before continuing the kisses down his chest, adding little bites here and there, nibbling on the rosy nipples that called out to him.

"Mm," Harry whispered, threading his fingers through Draco's soft, blond hair. "So what do you want, love?"

"You. In velvet knickers and lace stockings."

"Really?" Harry held Draco's head still and angled his face up. "After all this time, I had no idea you had a kink for lingerie."

Draco smirked and that familiar glint in his eye made Harry shiver in anticipation. "Yeah, well, neither did I until tonight. You look fucking hot in velvet knickers."

"What! I ... he...?" Harry chuckled. "Kinky bastard."

They both laughed, as Draco took Harry's hand to drag him off to their bedroom, abandoning dinner to satisfy an entirely different kind of appetite.

~fin~