By Saturday morning Draco had printed up the signs to be used for the upcoming school fundraiserhe was in charge of, made lists of all the merchants he needed to contact for donations, taughtschool, spring cleaned his house (even though spring seemed eons away given the snow that hadbeen falling since the evening he spent out with Dee), done his laundry, written up his lesson plansfrom now until the end of the school year for his muggle students and gotten supplies andassignments ready for his magical one. He had also made time to fit in a manicure and pedicure.

What he hadn't done was sleep. Not Thursday night or Friday night. How could he when every time he closed his eyes, every time he felt himself falling asleep, he couldn't keep his guard up against thoughts of Harry? 

Now it was Saturday morning. Snow was mounded up against his front door and drifts were piled in his driveway. The few cars that had been parked on the street were unrecognizable because of the snow covering the tops of them and there was not one single thing Draco could do inside his house to keep himself busy. Not unless he started hand stripping wallpaper from his kitchen walls. Draco recognized that giving Potter that much power over him was really beyond pathetic, and he knew it was time to get away from the house when removing wallpaper the muggle way was looking good. 

He bundled up in coat and scarf, went out the back door so he could use his wand secretly tomagic away the snow drift, and slowly made his way down the street. 

It was still early. Only a few people were starting to emerge from their warm cocoons with snow shovels or snowblowers in hand. The sky was an unearthly white-blue, perfectly devoid of clouds. The air, so cold it burned if he inhaled too deeply. 

Even though it wasn't a far walk to his favourite café, just a half mile down to the end of his street and around the corner a ways, he was huffing by the time he made it there.

It was a relief to see a car parked outside on the street. He hadn't entirely been certain the place
would be open, given the snow. Inside, Evan Taggart's little sister, Tabby, was putting coffee in the filter and her smile was rueful as she greeted Draco. 

"It may be just you and me here this morning," the teen girl joked. 

"My mom's never late, but she is this morning." Justine Taggart was Tabby's and Evan's mother and the owner of the cafe.

"Half the town is probably blocked in by snow." Draco unwound the scarf around his head and hung it over the back of one of the stools at the counter. 

He dragged off his coat and shook out his hair, then slipped onto the stool. 

"How's school going?"

Tabby was a senior in high school. She was smart and bright and as shiny as a new galleon. She
made Draco, short of sleep and feeling generally stressed out, feel older than Dumbledore.
Tabby was smiling and nodding. 

"Good. Glad we have a break coming up next week, though."

Draco yawned and smiled apologetically. 

"Been looking at colleges yet?"

"I want to study abroad. My parents, well, my mom mostly, is having a fit about it."

"It's just because they'll miss you," Draco told the girl, remembering back to when his mother had convinced his father not to send him to Durmstrang as she wanted him closer to home.

"They'll get used to the idea, but it doesn't hurt to have some alternatives, as well. You might be the one to change your mind." 

Goodness knows he certainly had. He still couldn't fathom why he'd ever thought he'd be happy working in a stuffy, goblin filled bank when he was so satisfied now working with children.

"Oh, I know. I've already taken my entrance exams. I have applications in at several universities."
The teenager flipped over a mug in front of Draco. 

"Coffee will be a few minutes, yet. You want me to toss something on the grill for you?"

The idea of eating wasn't overly appealing to the blond. 

"Just some toast."

"Sure thing, here," 

Tabby said as she handed over the small remote control for the minuscule television that sat behind the counter.

"If you want some noise, I'll be in the back for a few minutes." 

The girl popped some bread into the toaster and went through the swinging double doors that led to the kitchen.

Draco wasn't opposed to sitting in the quiet café listening to the sounds of Tabby getting the place ready for the day, but he hit the power button anyways. The television came on, a local morning news and weather program calling for above average snowfall all across their area.

The blond propped his chin on his hand and closed his eyes, letting the soft drone of the weather report flow over him. When he heard the toaster pop, he went around the counter and plopped the toast on a plate, found a few pats of butter in the cooler and returned to his stool.

Once he'd buttered the toast, however, it held little interest. He took a few bites anyway. Going
without any real sleep was one thing. Going without food for another meal was going to lead to him passing out.

The sound of the door opening behind him preceded a rush of cold air that invaded the comforting warmth of the diner. Draco looked over his shoulder and smiled when he saw Tommy Sawyer.

Deputy Tommy, as everyone called him, was the large thirtyish police officer that had a major crush on Dee and was someone the blond called a friend.

"Tommy, you're out and about awfully early."

The red-head yanked off his lined gloves as he made his way between the empty tables to the
counter. He punched Draco in the shoulder in a brotherly fashion. 

"Could say the same about you, mate." He took the stool beside the blond and began working out of his heavy coat. 

"It's barely daylight yet."

"Toast was calling me," Draco joked as he lifted one of the half eaten slices and took another bite. 

Tommy jerked his chin toward the swinging doors. "Justine back there?" he asked.

Draco shook his head. "Tabby."

The red head grunted a little. "Snowplows are out, she'll be in soon enough, I expect. That coffee been on long?"

Draco hid a smile and went around the counter again. He poured his friend a mug of coffee, but
handed him a saucer as well. Sure enough, the red head balanced the nearly flat saucer with the
fingers of one hand and poured the steaming hot brew into it. Draco was still blowing on the coffee in his mug when the police officer had drunk down half of his, thanks to the way it cooled rapidly in the saucer. This was just one of the man's many quirks that made Draco like the guy and one of the quirks that made Dee think he was just plain odd.

"How's the new boy in your class doing? Eli isn't it?"

If it weren't for Draco's history with Eli's father, he wouldn't have thought twice about Tommy's
interest. The man pretty much knew everything that went on in town, hence why Dee thought him such a gossip. As a result, the blond forced himself to respond naturally.

"Settling in," Draco replied, which was a huge example of misinformation. 

Eli wasn't settling in well at all. Nor had he been in school the previous day. When he'd questioned the office about the boy's absence, he'd learned only that his father had called in his excuse. Draco knew that Tommy would think it unnatural for him not to ask about the newest member of his department. 

"What about Harry Potter? Is he settling in?"

Tommy merely nodded, which made Draco wonder if his response was as truthful as his own had been about Eli.

"You gonna eat that toast, or look at it?" the large man asked. Draco happily slid the plate toward him.

Tabby reappeared at the same time as her mother, Justine walked in with another rush of cold air.

"Draco, Tommy," the woman greeted as she headed around the counter to pour herself some coffee.

"Breakfast's on me this morning, if you're taking."

"I am," Tommy answered happily.

"How long before you've got some cinnamon rolls?" Justine grinned. 

"Give me twenty minutes."

"Ten," Tabby corrected. "I've already got them in the oven."

"Your new officer is on his way in too," Justine told the other policeman. 

"He was pulling into the parking lot right behind me."

Draco stiffened. He wasn't up to another encounter with Harry just yet, particularly when he hadn't yet recovered from the last one. He dropped a few dollars on the counter for his toast and coffee, then reached for his scarf and flipped it around his neck.

"Leaving already?" Tommy asked, shooting the blond a curious look.

"You know how it is, no rest for the wicked," Draco joked giving the man a quick wave as he headed to the door, pulling on his coat as he went.

Harry entered, just as Draco reached the door and the blond gave him a brusque nod. "Mr. Potter. I hope Eli is all right." What he really wanted to ask was if the Gryffindor had kept his son out of class because he really thought that Draco was such a rotten teacher.

"Might be coming down with a cold," Harry answered.

Draco fumbled with his coat buttons, very aware of their small audience. "If he's out more than a few days, I can send home some schoolwork so he doesn't fall behind." 

He finally fit the button in place. He reached for the door, but Harry beat him to it, his hand brushing Draco's on the crash bar.

"Draco," Harry's voice was low. "Don't keep walking away from me."

The blond pushed on by. The only reason his eyes were suddenly stinging, he assured himself, was because of the bitter cold.

A few cars were slowly driving down the street as he emerged from the café and he returned a wave or two as he hustled to the other side once they'd passed. When he arrived at his little house across the street from the snowy park a short while later, he wasn't sure if he was surprised or not that

Harry hadn't followed him. Not that he'd wanted him to. 

Merlin, no.

He went in through the back again, because he was afraid to use magic to clear the snow blocking the front in case he was seen. He bypassed the impeccably neat kitchen, and went into his excruciatingly clean living room. And then he stood there, not knowing what to do.

Everywhere he turned theses days, the Gryffindor was there. He raked his fingers through his hair and thought about screaming, but that would just prove that he really was losing his mind where Harry Potter was concerned.

Draco changed into heavier boots and went out to his garage, found a snow shovel, and carried it around to the front. At least attacking the snowdrifts would keep his hands busy. Once he finished that, he'd drive out and check on Brody and Megan. Deliver some more materials for the girl. 

He cleared the drift that blocked his front door, scraped the snow off the few porch steps, and was halfway down the front walk when he heard that voice.

"I can't believe you're not using magic to do that?"

Harry had followed after all.

Seven years ago, Draco would have given everything for Harry to come after him. To turn around and tell him that he'd changed his mind. That he'd been wrong. That he didn't have to end things between them, but that had been seven years ago. Now, he just wanted the Auror to leave him alone. 

Draco dug the shovel's sharp edge into the snow and hefted another load to the side where, in the spring and summer, plants would bloom alongside the walkway in glorious profusion.

"I can do things the muggle way if I want to."

Harry smirked in amusement at the petulant tone in the blond's voice, his black boots crunched on the snow and came into Draco's view. The Slytherin dumped the snow on his feet. 

"Sorry," Draco said without feeling an ounce apologetic.

"You're in my way." Harry shook off the clumps of sticking snow. 

"You didn't return my phone call yesterday."

"Was it about Eli?" 

Draco knew it wasn't because the message said only 'Let me explain about Ginny.'

"You know it wasn't," Harry answered.

Draco gave him a brief, pointed look, and wielded the shovel once more. "Unless you're here to talk about Eli, we have nothing to say." 

A few more scrapes and he'd be able to move on to the driveway. If his arms and shoulders held out that long, right now they were already protesting the abuse.

"Fine, I talked to him about the tests."

Draco exhaled. Beneath his layers of flannel, knit and wool, he was beginning to sweat.

"Let me guess. He told you he didn't cheat."

"Right."

"Shocking." Draco's tone was acrid. He pushed the shovel along the cement walkway and it scraped loudly as the blond cleared away the last several inches of snow.

"He's never lied to me before."

Draco stomped across the yard toward the driveway. It would take him considerably longer to clear it than the walkway, and the appeal of using his wand was growing. Not that he'd pull it out now, after he'd made a point of denying the need to use magic. The Slytherin knew that was pretty much cutting off his nose to spite his face, but he didn't care.

"You're my son's teacher, Draco. You have to talk to me"

The blond tossed the shovel onto the ground where the thick layer of snow cushioned it, and turned to face the brunet, his hands on his hips.

"To listen to you, I'm your son's problem! You don't want to hear what I have to say when it comes to Eli. You've already made up your mind, as usual. The same way you've already made up your mind about me and what happened between us." 

Draco's lips parted as he panted heavy breaths. He was positive he was breathless from shovelling, not from the Gryffindors presence.

Harry strode across the snow, leaving fresh footprints alongside Draco's in the pristine smoothness.

"God damn it, Draco. I was not with Ginny when I was with you."

The blond stared at him, wanting to deny the emotion suddenly bubbling over inside him and being completely unable to do so. 

"Really." Draco stomped past him, crossing the yard yet again and going into the kitchen. Harry followed. 

"I know how long it takes to put on an event such as what you had. My mother was always doing stuff like that and I saw the wedding, myself. Things like that don't get pulled together in less than two weeks. I would imagine that you'd have had to reserve the spot you were married in about a year in advance! So don't tell me that you weren't involved with Weasley when we were together. Am I right? Well?" 

Draco could read the expression in Harry's green eyes, but he figured he knew the answer, anyway.

"Of course I'm right." His voice sounded hoarse.

"That wedding probably took six months to plan, at least."

"About nine," Harry admitted finally.

Draco didn't think it would hurt. Not when he was already prepared for the answer; not when he'd reasoned it out for himself all those years ago. Yet it felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach by a hippogriff. He reached his hand back for the counter behind him, needed to hold on to something concrete to steady himself. Harry yanked off his gloves and shoved them in the pockets of his close fitted brown coat. 

"There are things you don't know about, Draco. Things I couldn't say, couldn't tell you."

The blond just shook his head.

"Please, just go. I can't...I can't keep running into you and going through this. It's over and done."

"But it's not done," Harry murmured, stepping closer. 

"I wish to Merlin it was."

Draco took a step back and bumped into the counter. "Potter, don't."

The Auror drew his dark eyebrows together in a frown. "Don't what, Draco? Don't remember? Don't lay awake at night, still to this day, and want you? Or don't worry that your judgement when it comes to my son might be skewed because you hate me?"

"I don't hate you." 

Draco pushed the words out. How much easier it would be if he did, if he could go back to those hateful feelings he had carried throughout most of their school years, before they had gotten together. 

Harry took another step towards the blond. 

"But you don't trust me."

Draco couldn't take a breath without inhaling the Gryffindor, the crispy coolness that clung to his coat, the warmth of his breath. 

"It doesn't matter whether or not I trust you," he managed. "You're just one of my student's parents."

"Liar." Harry's thick enviable lashes dropped and Draco's lips tingled as if the brunet's gaze had
actually brushed against them. 

"I'm your first lover, Draco."

The blond tossed back his head, pride stiffening his resolve. "So I should be all aquiver now? Do you really think that you've been such a...a monument in my life, just because everyone thinks you're the great Harry Potter? I could have had dozens of lovers since you. Ones that I tossed aside as easily as you did me."

"There was no tossing and it sure as hell wasn't easy." Harry's brooding gaze met Draco's.

"And I don't think there have been dozens."

Draco made a scoffing sound. 

"It's hardly any of your business now, is it." It wasn't a question.

"How many?" Harry asked, his head tilted to one side. His voice was soft, impossibly gentle.

"Go to hell."

"Been there. How many, Draco?"

"How many lovers have you had, Potter? How often were you unfaithful to the Weaslette?"

"That wasn't what our marriage was about."

Draco lifted his brows, feeling shocked. "Well, how very modern and sophisticated of you both," he drawled in his typical sarcastic manner.

Harry's lips tightened a little. "We married because of Eli."

"Oh, well, that makes it all okay then." Draco's voice cracked.

"Did you tell your wife that you had sex with another person, a man no less, practically up until the week you were saying your vows to each other?"

"She knew about you." 

For some reason, that made the edge of pain cutting inside Draco even sharper. "She must be the forgiving type, unlike me."

"That's not what I meant," Harry retorted.

"Then what did you mean, Potter? You told her about me after you'd put your ring on her finger?After your honeymoon? After your first anniversary, or your fifth?" Draco's eyes burned.

"You didn't just go through a wedding, Potter. You had a marriage, and until she...she died, you were still together. I wasn't the one who mattered. She was. I was just a...a blip." 

Harry looked pained and his fingers, when they touched that pale cheek, weren't steady. Or maybe that was just because the blond was shaking from head to toe. 

"You were the one I loved, Draco."

His fingers smoothed down the Slytherins cheek, traced his jaw. "That was never a lie."

Draco had to steel himself not to sink against him, not to let himself fall into that seductive chasmof believing every word that came out of those perfectly sculpted lips. 

"Did you regret marrying her?" the blond asked breathlessly.

Harry let out a harsh breath. "I had Elijah to consider. Ginny was his mother. No. I didn't regret
marrying her."

"Did you love her?"

This time Harry let out a sigh. "Eventually, yeah."

Draco closed his eyes. Painful or not, at least Harry had been honest about that. "What do you want from me, Harry?"

"I wish to Merlin I knew," the brunet murmured. 

His finger brushed over Draco's lower lip, just the slightest of grazing. Draco very nearly stopped breathing. He angled his head away, looking up at his former lover again.

"I don't get involved with fathers of my students."

"Seven years ago, you told me you didn't get involved with Gryffindor's," Harry smiled softly.

"I should have stuck to my convictions."

"Probably." Harry's hand slid back along Draco's jaw, cradling the blond's face.

"I'm not going to get involved with you again," Draco vowed.

Harry lowered his head. His words brushed across the blond's lips like a physical caress. 

"We're already involved. We have been since the afternoon you talked me into sharing a picnic with you on the beach."

"That picnic was your idea."

"Yeah, so maybe it was," Harry agreed breathlessly just before he closed the last few inches between them, covering Draco's mouth with his.