Disclaimer: The characters belong to JK Rowling.

A/N: The movie The Reader inspired this, well the beginning at least. There will be similarities for the first couple of chapters, but not as much after that. This is most definitely AU and non-magic. There is an age difference between Harry and Draco which will be specified later, but it's ten years and Harry is seventeen, making Draco twenty seven. And I think that's it. Any more questions, feel free to ask.


He gripped the leather holding on the tram car, his knuckles turning white while he brushed back his sweat laden black fringe with his other hand. Sweat continued to trickle down his face and his hands were shaking slightly. He glanced passed the passengers on the packed filled car to see that it was still raining profusely with no sign of letting up.

Closing his eyes he took a shuddering breath and lurched forward, pushing past other standing passengers as he made his way to the front of the tram car waiting to be let off. As soon as the tram door opened he stumbled out, rain immediately pelting him and soaking him to the bone.

He stumbled to a landing that led upstairs to apartments. Dropping his books to the wet ground he doubled over and began to heave, throwing up once. Walking further inside the boy leaned against the wall, sliding down to the ground where his breaths were short and hitched. He could hear footsteps coming down the stairs, but he paid no notice as he threw up once more. As the footsteps seemed to be only feet away he wiped his mouth and glanced up at the passing person. The man with striking platinum hair walked to the edge of the landing and glanced outside at the gray street before him before turning back around and walking back. When the man returned he held a bucket and went to the edge once more before splashing water at where the boy had thrown up the first time. He returned to stand in front of the boy, splashing water across the stone pavement before setting down the bucket and crouching in front of the boy. His gray eyes were slightly narrowed as he examined the boy in front of him before he reached inside of his jacket and pulled out a handkerchief and began to wipe the boy's mouth. Once finished he tucked the handkerchief back inside before standing up again.

"I can give you a ride home if you like."

The boy glanced up at the blonde haired man and slowly gave a nod. The man held out a slim, pale hand and the boy grasped it before he was helped up.

The drive was silent except for the boy giving the occasional direction to 'turn right' or 'take a left here'. When the man parked his car on the street he and the boy began to walk up a side street before the boy turned and stop.

"I've got it from here. It's just up this way a bit."

The man gave a sharp nod. "All right then." And with the turn of his back he began to walk down the street.

The boy started to slowly walk up the street giving the stranger a side long glance before turning and heading towards home.

He shut the door quietly, knowing it was already well past dinner. He set down his books and managed to get his jacket untangled from his wet clothes. When he came to the dining room he found his godfather already sitting at the table, his food untouched. After hearing the wet footsteps the man with dark hair looked up.
"You're home late."

The statement wasn't reprimanding and it wasn't harsh. It was almost a tone of surprise, but not quite.

The boy slid into his seat and began to eat his soup with shaky hands.

"You look ill. I think we should call the doctor."

"I'm fine, really." The man scowled at the boy as he finally began to eat.

"Harry you look like you're breaking out into rashes and you're shaking. I'm sure you're running a fever too."

Harry shrugged yet didn't say anything.

The doctor pressed the wooden stick against Harry's tongue as he shone a light in his open throat, peering into it.

"Scarlet Fever. He'll need to be on bed rest for at least three months."

The doctor, who had a hooked nose and greasy black hair, removed the tongue compressor from Harry's mouth and clicked off his light, tucking it back into his bag.

"Three months?" asked Harry's godfather.

"Yes Mr. Black. Scarlet Fever is contagious so please keep him isolated. I've provided some medicine, but he needs rest. I'll check back soon." Harry's godfather, Sirius, gave a nod and he escorted the doctor out of the room.

Harry sighed and settled back into his pillows as he waited for his godfather to come back into his room. When he did he returned with a bottle of medicine.

"You need to take these once a day. It's an antibiotic. I'll need to call your school and explain that you won't be there for a while, but I'm sure your friend, Ron isn't it? Well he can drop homework off."

Harry gave a nod, not really paying much attention to what exactly Sirius was saying.

"A man helped me home today," he said abruptly as Sirius began to leave the room. Sirius turned around, his hand on the wooden doorframe still as he looked at Harry. "He saw that I was sick and he drove me home." There was a pause of silence and Harry turned his head to look at Sirius.

"Well, I suppose when you're better you'll have to properly thank him. Do you remember where he lives?"

But instead of a reply Harry turned his head away from Sirius and closed his eyes.

Harry stood outside the landing, gripping flowers before entering it and going towards the stairs. He glanced at the small panel that had flat numbers and the names of the tenants written next to it. He wasn't even sure of the man's name, but nevertheless he began to climb the stairs.

At the first landing he stopped at a door and glanced into the side where there was enough glass to see in. Sure enough there was a blonde haired man shrugging out of a long wool black coat. Harry ran his fingers through his hair before knocking and looking down at the ground. Hearing the footsteps approaching he looked up at the door and saw the man, his gray eyes widened slightly in surprise before it was quickly erased and composed to calm and collected.

The door opened and Harry shifted from foot to foot.

"Um, hello."

The man looked Harry up and down before turning around and walking back into the flat.

"Come in."

Harry stepped into the flat and closed the door. The flat was one large room with a small kitchen and table. Directly next to the kitchen was a large bathtub that had a sheer looking curtain and could be pulled around it and beyond that sat a bed with a small couch in the area across from it by a window. There were very few trinkets lying about the place except for the occasional book.

The man was shuffling through a briefcase like bag near his bed while Harry stood nervously in the kitchen area.

"I never thanked you properly so I brought you some flowers. I had scarlet fever and was restricted to bed rest for three months."

The man never glanced up from the papers he was now shuffling through as Harry spoke.

"You can set them in the sink."

Harry paused briefly before moving towards the sink and setting the flowers in them. He stood awkwardly for a few minutes afterwards as he glanced around the flat. When he became so nervous to the point where he was becoming stiflingly uncomfortable that he was going to leave the man looked up at him, his gray eyes gazing into Harry's green ones. The man broke the gaze by finally putting his papers back into his briefcase and setting it on the floor next to where his wool coat hung on a hook. He made his way into the kitchen and stood by the sink, picking up the flowers.

"Tulips," he noted, looking at the yellow, red, pink, and orange hues of the flowers. "They're beautiful flowers, aren't they?"

Harry blushed slightly and reached behind his head to scratch the nape of his neck.

"Yes, they're my favorite." The man glanced at Harry once more until he looked away and put the flowers back in the sink. He opened up a cupboard and pulled out a vase before filling it partly with water and putting the tulips in them.

"They're uncommon for it only being April," he said once he set them on his small kitchen table.

"I thought so too, but then I saw these one and I was surprised." The man leaned against the back of his counter and folded his arms, still looking at Harry with an expression he couldn't quite read. He was looking at Harry quite curiously and Harry bit his lip, a nervous habit of his along with scratching the nape of his neck.

"I have to go to work soon. I need to get dressed, but I can walk you out if you want. You can wait outside the door." Harry gave a nod before he walked outside and the door was shut quietly. He glanced around the outside of the flat, noticing nothing special about the place before he glanced back through the small glass pane that looked into the flat.

What he saw stirred up feelings that he had never felt before. The man had just put on a dress shirt and was beginning to button up his shirt. Nimble fingers worked on the bottom button to cover up his slim, toned, white body. His pants hung loosely around his hips where they were still unzipped. As much as Harry wanted to look away he couldn't, but he did once, to glance up at the man's face. He had quite a handsome face, with high cheekbones, a slightly pointed chin and nose, but skin that looked milky and smooth to the touch. It was as Harry was examining his face that the man looked up and Harry's breath caught as their eyes locked. For a few moments Harry was locked in place and the man didn't make a move, but when Harry looked away he quickly fled the building, not bothering to wait for the man.

It wasn't until a week later when Harry had the urge to go back to the man's flat. He wasn't sure if he should apologize for what had happened, but before he could ponder the thought anymore he was standing outside the man's flat knocking on the door.

When the man answered he was still in his work clothes, a crisp white button up shirt and silver tie along with fitted black pants.

When the man opened the door he didn't say anything, he merely let Harry in.

Harry entered the flat, shutting the door behind him while stealing glances at the man who had already discarded his tie and was now rolling up his cuffs.

"There's a garden in the back of the flat building. I grow some herbs there and some other plants. I could use your help in bringing some up."

Harry gave a nod, thinking that it was the least he could do. But as he descended the stairs and began to follow the man towards the back he wondered why he was at the flat.

The man trekked through the muddy grass and walked over to a small stone patio where he had four tins of herbs sitting out.

"If you can grab two that would be helpful," he said, already having two in his hand and moving past Harry to go back up to his flat. Harry didn't reply and he moved to get the herbs. When he turned around he saw that the man had already disappeared back upstairs. Walking too fast through the grass that was still damp and muddy from the rain three days before, he slipped and fell, dropping the herbs as he tried to break his fall with his hands.

"Shit," he muttered, seeing that his clothes were now muddy and his hands were muddy also. He glanced down at the tins of herbs to find that they were luckily still intact, with only some dirt spilling out. He quickly tried to put as much of the dirt back in before finally leaving the small garden and going back up to the flat.

When the man heard Harry shut the door he looked at the boy and laughed. To Harry his laughter was rich and it made him want to smile, which he did slightly.

"What on earth happened to you?"

"Er, I fell. The grass was rather slippery." The man moved forward, taking the tins out of Harry's hands and he went around to the window by the armchair and set them there.

As he did this he called out, "Undress."

At this order Harry could only stand there until the man reappeared and began to clarify.

"I can't send you home caked in mud now can I?" He moved past Harry and began to run water. Slowly Harry took off his jacket and slipped his shirt over his head. He stood there once more until the man rolled his eyes.

"I won't look." He pulled the curtain around the tub, although it wasn't much use because it was practically sheer.

Harry removed his belt and removed his pants, followed by his socks. The man reappeared and took Harry's clothes from him before disappearing once more. Harry slowly slipped his boxers off before slipping into the water. He grabbed the soap and began to scrub himself. He wasn't quite sure what to make of this situation, but there was just something about the man that made Harry come back to the flat today.

He submerged himself in the water and when he came back up he saw the man above him, holding out a towel. Harry shyly took it and the man left once more. Harry stepped out of the tub and pulled the plug to let out the water.

He began to dry himself off when he felt hands on his shoulders. The hands gripped the towel that Harry had been using and it began to drop lower and lower. Harry shivered, not from the cold, but the fact that he was standing in front of this man naked.

And then he felt it. It was so light and soft, but there it was again. It was a kiss, at first on the middle of his back until it was lower near the dip in his spine where it just met his hips. Harry's eyes fluttered closed until his waist was lightly touched and he was turned around. If it was possible, the gray eyes of the man had seemed to grow somewhat darker. Harry, who was only a couple of inches shorter than the man, just noticed that the man was also naked. The man leaned forward, his head tilted slightly. Harry could feel the puffs of breath on his mouth and he too leaned forward until they were almost touching. The man's hands on his waist pulled his hips forward towards his so that now their cocks were touching. Harry, who was already hard, felt himself grow even harder.

"So this is why you came back," the man whispered.

Harry leaned forward until their lips were touching. At first they were soft and light until Harry began to kiss him fervently, his hands gripping the other man's waist.

The man tilted his head back and Harry looked at him with a slightly puzzled expression while breathing heavily.

"Slowly," the man instructed with a soothing voice. Harry gave a slight nod and pressed his lips against the man's. Without even realizing it he was being pulled towards the man's bed. When the man's legs hit the bed he sat down, bringing Harry with him so that Harry's legs straddled him.

They kissed some more until the man murmured for Harry to move lower so that the man could bend his knees. Before Harry knew it the man had put his fingers to Harry's lips, urging him to suck him. Harry did so, occasionally swirling his tongue around them. The man's eyes fluttered closed and he groaned. Inside Harry was thrilled at the noise that the man way and when the man pulled his fingers out of Harry's mouth he was slightly disappointed until he realized what the man was going to do with his fingers. Harry saw them move towards the man's opening where he slowly pushed in one finger. Harry watched, mesmerized, and then the man put in another, slowly making a scissoring motion until he added a third digit. When the man removed his fingers he looked at Harry, instructing him to kneel before him and to move closer. The man had moved his legs so that they were now on Harry's shoulders. He stroked the legs as the man positioned Harry's cock at his entrance. Harry shuddered with pleasure as the man stroked it and then he felt heat encase the head of his cock. His hands moved to the blonde's waist and he was urged to push in, slowly. Harry did so until he was fully in the man. And then he was told to go faster and when he did he was sure there was no better feeling in the world. He moaned his pleasure out loud and blonde groaned in response, gripping his sheets. Harry continued to pump in and out of the blonde, their gasps and moans continuing to grow faster until finally they both came. Harry collapsed on the blonde and slowly slipped out of him before proceeding to roll over next to the blonde. The man turned on his side and smiled at Harry before beginning to kiss his stomach, causing Harry's stomach to flutter. Harry threaded his hands through blonde locks and smiled back.