Hello Again


By darkmosmordreheart

Summary: D/H. A choice, a tear, and an undying love. After Hogwarts. Sequel of Hello Harry & Goodbye Draco.

Warning: Slash, language, and weepy author (me).

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling and I don't own her characters. (sobs)


Author's Note: BEFORE READING THIS FIC, PLEASE READ AND REVIEW THE OTHER TWO FICS! (Hello Harry and Goodbye Draco). Thanks!

And sorry for not addressing this I the last fic, but I had posted it around 4 in the morning and I was sleep deprived. Anyways, enough excuses. I have some brief explaining to do. Hello Harry was written because I was bored, sleepy, and sad all at once. Goodbye Draco was written in response to a review of Hello Harry, so it was quick and it didn't explain much. So let me explain now. In the final battle, Harry won against Voldemort, but his mind was severely damaged in the process. I guess I just made it so no one knew exactly what happened in the battle between the two wizards just so I wouldn't have to explain it (I know, lazy DMH). So basically, Harry is trapped in his own mind and only seems to gain lucidity when Draco is around, but in the last fic, he went all bipolar and cussed out Draco because he fell back into the mindset he had before he and Draco were lovers, which I'm guessing is around 7th year. Oh, and HBP & DH never happened! Whew, that was a lot. Did you get it? Message me if you didn't. Thanks!

-DMH

P.S. forbiddenlover, I don't think I want to make this is a full fledge story, so it'll probably end here, but if you want to request something different for me to write, I'd do it for you. I love challenges.

Enough rambling. On with the story.


It was Sunday again.

Draco was distracted and torn. The Ministry was sending him owls stating how the Department of Muggle Regulations didn't need him today, but hinting heavily how nice it would be if he did show up. Of course, Draco didn't want to go to work on a Sunday, but thinking back to last week . . .

It was almost five o'clock.

Fifteen minutes was all he had to make his choice. Would he stay or would he go?

Last time he was late, Harry woke up.

Oh God, Harry. He was the same. Exactly the same. His broad smile added a crinkle around his almond shaped eyes. Eyes that glittered and shone with love for Draco. Eyes that shone because of Draco.

Until Draco refused him. His breath hitched as he thought how stupid the whole thing was. He should have just accepted Harry's intimate embrace, despite the red-headed family that stood in the same room, watching intently. He should not have hesitated to take his lover in is arms. He should not have cared what the Weasleys would have thought of him. What they would have thought of Harry.

He shouldn't have, but he did.

And Harry---his hero; so strong and so brave, so absolutely perfect---had broken down before his eyes. There had been no experience more painful for Draco.

He felt the tears coming, taunting him behind silver eyes, but he pushed them back with a deep cleansing breath. No more tears. He lifted his head from the position it held in his hands for the last hour. He looked across the room to the old Muggle grandfather clock, almost hypnotized by the large gold pendulum.

There were only two minutes to five o'clock.

He clenched his fists tight to stop the slight tremble---his nails digging into his own pale flesh---he made his choice and he Apprarated.


"Hello Mister Malfoy."

"Hello, Madam Fokus," he replied curtly to the short, grey-haired witched that stood between him and the door of his lover's room. "Is something the matter?"

"Well, Mister Potter has awoken again and he is currently being visited by his family."

Draco cringed as the simple words left the witch's mouth. His family. That obviously meant the Weasleys, who wanted no part in him or the relationship he and Harry shared. "Has . . . Did he just wake?"

"No, he woke the day before yesterday," she informed him, observing as her words had a crushing effect on the tired looking young man.

"The day . . ." Draco trailed off, knowing good and well that the Weasleys would stand between him and Harry and that was why they hadn't informed him. Especially since the fiasco last week . . .

He wondered if Harry had asked for him again. He wondered if his redheaded enemies had refused Harry's request, or worse, told the green-eyed man that Draco had not wanted to see him. He refused to even acknowledge the possibility that Harry had never asked for him, but he could not prevent the sinking feeling in his chest.

Maybe it was all for the best.

"Would you like me to inform the patient of your visit, Mister Malfoy?" the older witch asked. The young man gave a slight shake of his head and turned away. She watched him stride away from her, his silvery-blond head hung low, his shoulders sloped, and an unbearable air of hopelessness surrounding him. He hesitated when he reached the end of the corridor as if he had no idea how he had gotten there and turned back to the witch. Or more so, to the closed door that stood behind her.

After one more wistful glance and the young man disappeared with a faint pop.


Draco read the papers, he heard the gossip, and he saw proof of it.

Harry Potter---the greatest wizard, the one that defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named---was back.

It had been two months since his last attempt to visit Harry at St. Mungo's. Two months exactly, and Harry had been released with a full bill of health.

Boy-who-lived Once Again On Top of His Game, the Prophet announced. Harry Overcomes, Yet Again! The Chosen One Lives! Our Savior Returns!

Draco smiled bitterly at the articles that revered Harry's name. New articles written by the same journalists that bashed their supposed savior when they thought he would never return. Every article came with a picture of Harry before the Great War. Harry smiling for a picture at the TriWizard Cup. Harry on the day he became an auror. Harry on the day he was announced Head Auror. All smiling, waving images of the young wizard of the past. It seemed that no one was able to get a recent picture or maybe they had, but refused to project anything but a young, strong hero. Surely the wizarding world wouldn't want to see a sickly pale, skin and bones man as one of their best and brightest.

Draco threw down the Prophet next to his untouched cup of tea and walked to the fireplace, grabbing a handful of floo powder and disappearing into a sea of green flames.

"Uh, Mister Malfoy?"

The Head of the Department of Muggle Relations looked up from his paperwork to the frightened face of his usually calm secretary, Mona.

"What?"

"Er . . . The Minister would like you to meet him in the lobby."

"Why?"

"He's making that request of the other Heads of Departments as well."

"Why?"

"Well . . . because Harry Potter is coming, sir." Mona had heard rumors of her bosses distaste for the wizarding hero, but the look on his face, one of pure revulsion, proved all the statements she had ever heard.

"Very well, Mona. Inform the Minister that I will be there . . . When is this happening?"

"Er . . . now."

"So why am I just now hearing of this development?" Draco asked, a casual lilt to his voice, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"I thought you would be angry."

"You are very much correct. Leave now." He stood and strode out the door before Mona could even move. His robes billowed around him as rushed to the lobby. When he reached the large open room, feeling sickly nervous and, sure enough, there was a crowd of journalists, photographers, fans and the many Heads of the many Departments around a lone figure.

Draco saw him through the crowd before he could see Draco.

He was shaking hands, his expression tight and fake, a diplomatic smile pasted on his face under the glare of the familiar frames of his glasses. Draco's chest tightened as he looked upon his former lover. Harry was so beautiful. He must have spent some time in the sun, his skin glowed slightly golden. Someone must have been encouraging to eat; the body under the new dark green robes was lean and trim instead of lanky and awkward. The only problem was the hair. It fell just below Harry's ear, a fact that Draco knew annoyed the green-eyed hero. He must have been too busy to get a haircut.

Draco looked to the figure beside Harry, the short stature of the Minister of Magic puffing itself up for the pictures. Just as Draco realized that he could sneak away from all of this unnoticed by the Minister, emerald eyes locked with silver.

The fake smile seemed to have melted off Harry's face, only to be replaced with one of pure pleasure. Te smile was so stunning that a few people, Draco himself, gasped. Harry pulled himself out of the Minister's grip and made his way through the crowd to Draco, the smile on his face only widening as he got closer. Draco couldn't move, as if he was glued to where he stood with Harry getting closer and closer.

People moved and made way for their savior, instantly seeing that his path collided with where Draco stood. Flashes of magical cameras flashed frantically around them as Harry stopped merely a foot away from Draco.

The pale blonde closed his eyes, but still felt the glare of green eyes on his face. His cheeks. His chin. His brow. His lips.

"Draco."

He finally opened his eyes and gasped in shock as he watched a single tear fall from one emerald eye.

"Draco."

Suddenly he was in Harry's arms, his lips on Harry's, his tongue against Harry's. Harry was cupping his face. Harry was telling him that he loved him. Harry was crying . . . No, that wasn't right, he was crying, but Harry was crying with him. And hugging with him. And kissing with him. And loving with him in front of the whole wizarding world. He moaned in pleasure at how good it felt.

And suddenly it was over.

And Harry collapsed in his arms.


Draco read the Prophet, one of the many papers that featured the story of Draco and Harry's kiss, one of the few papers that didn't claim the kiss to be an aftereffect of Harry's condition and the only paper that didn't feature a picture of the infamous kiss. Instead, the paper had chosen to immortalize Harry's first tear, claiming it was the tear a man cried when he finally saw his true love after such a long time apart. Draco flipped back to the beginning of the multiple paged article to see who the author was. He laughed out loud when he read the name: Hermione Weasley.

He continued to smile until he heard a soft voice behind him.

"Draco?"

He turned slowly and stood to face the back man who had been staring blankly out into the sea for the last three days.

"Hello Harry." He walked towards the high backed chair Harry frequented and stood next to it, his hand resting on the back, just above Harry's shoulder.

"Hello Draco." Harry said softly, still as motionless as ever. "How long was I gone this time?"

"Three days."

"Shit," he swore under his breath. He turned his head up, towards Draco and smiled. "I'm sorry. I have occasional episodes."

"I know. Madam Fokus informed me, but she also said that they usually only lasted for a couple hours."

Harry frowned at the frightened tone of the blonde's voice and tried to make eye contact, but Draco only continued to stare out the window, into the sea. "You're scared that I'll be gone again, aren't you?"

"I'm always scared that you'll leave me."

"Draco," Harry sighed, putting his hands flat against the armrests to push himself up. Harry stood, so wobbly that Draco had to brace him against his own body, his leg muscles so weak after three days of nonuse. "Draco?"

Silver eyes met emerald.

"I love you, Draco." Draco's eyes filled and he could only nod. His dark counterpart stared up into the face of the man that held him, his expression one of awe. "You're so beautiful, Draco. Do you love me, too?"

"I do."

"Then I will be with you forever," Harry assured him. "Forever, do you understand?"

"Yes."

Harry wrapped his arms around the neck of the slightly taller man and breathed in his scent. "Draco, never say goodbye to me again."

Draco nodded, his tears overflowing as he felt wetness on his neck from Harry eyes. He lifted his love's chin with the tip of his finger so that their lips were level and pressed close for a light, gentle kiss. The taste of Harry was like the first breath of air after one had been drowning for so long.

He pulled back and looked deep into emerald eyes. "I love you, Harry. I'll never say goodbye again."

"Well then," Harry smiled. "Hello Draco."

"Hello again."

-End-


Author's Note: Thank you for reading this and for hopefully reading the last two fics. Please review this and tell me if you liked it. As I was writing it, I felt as if something was wrong, so if someone has a funny feeling about it, tell me and I'll probably rewrite this. But if you think it's good, tell me so I don't worry about it. Thanks.

-DMH