Author's Note: Same as Ch. 1

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We broke up
yeah, it's tough
most guys would've been crushed
Wastin' their time
Wonderin' where they went wrong
No way, not me
Hey, I'm doing just fine
I'm not afraid of movin' on

It's easy going out on a Friday night
Easy every time I see her out
I can smile, live it up
The way a single guy does
But what she, what she don't know
Is how hard it is to make it look so
Easy

~from "Easy" by Rascal Flatts ft. Natasha Bedingfield

Chapter 2: Harry

Harry smiled as he looked around at his group of friends. It had been a long time since he had gone out with the gang, actually it had been a long time since he had gone out at all, but right now, there was no place he rather be than with his friends, even if Draco was here too.

Taking a sip of his drink, Harry watched with interest as Neville approached the group, having gone to get another drink, only he didn't return alone. Neville was making easy conversation with a man Harry didn't know, but wouldn't be opposed to meeting based on his outward appearance. Just shorter than Neville, the man was clearly not from England—if Harry had to guess, he would guess Spanish. Turns out he wasn't too far off.

"Hey everybody" Neville raised his voice to get the attention of his friends in the general area, "this is Miguel. He was one of my guides when I was studying in Brazil. He's also a herbologist and he is here doing some research work."

There was a general round of "hey", "welcome" and "nice to meet you" from those gathered around. Hermione, of course, walked up and immediate began questioning the man about his work—her love of knowledge not having waned a bit since Hogwarts. Harry watched the whole thing with mild interest, and he couldn't help but notice that Miguel kept glancing his way, as if hoping to catch Harry's eye.

Draining the rest of his drink, Harry walked around the table he was leaning on and made his way towards the man, deciding it was time to rescue him from Hermione before she talked the man's ear off.

"Hey Hermione, you planning on asking him questions all night?" Grinning at Hermione as she glared up at him, Harry turned and extended his hand to Miguel, "Sorry about her, she likes to talk. I'm Har…"

"I know exactly who you are Mr. Potter" Miguel smiled, and grasped Harry's hand with both of his. "It's an honour to meet you; Neville told me so much about you."

"Call me Harry, please." Harry smiled in return, "so tell me, what would a herbologist from Brazil being doing in England in the middle of winter?"

Miguel chucked, "I actually split my time between Brazil and Portugal for work purposes. My mother lives here in London, so whenever I come to Europe, she insists I come and visit. I could never do research here—far too cold or rainy for my taste."

Smiling, Harry invited him back to a table, the two carrying on easy conversation the entire time. And when Miguel got up to get them more drinks, Harry took the opportunity the flag down Neville and ask about for some more details about his foreign friend.

"Actually Harry, I was going to come and talk to you about him. It's obvious that you are getting along well, but just be careful where Miguel is concerned."

"What do you mean 'be careful'?" Harry's tone of voice implying that he was an Auror, he could take care of himself.

Knowing what his friend was most likely thinking, Neville quickly added, "I know you are very capable Harry, but Miguel, while being brilliant, likes to live a fast past life—in all areas of his life." Still sensing confusion from Harry, Neville continued, "Look, I haven't heard from Miguel in a number of years but the last time I met up with him, the combination of alcohol and other substances he consumed should have been lethal."

The two friends lapsed into silence, as Harry studied the man making his way back to their table with fresh drinks in hand. Turning his head, he looking at Neville, his eyes almost pleading for direction, but Neville didn't want to intervene.

"I'm not going to tell you what to do Harry, you got to figure this one out on your own mate, but just so you're aware, and I don't know if this is still the case, the last I heard from Miguel, he had a fiancé." With that, Neville turned and walked away leaving Harry to decide what to do.

What Harry decided to do, however, isn't what ended up happening. Looking back on the incident, Harry would argue it was the man's smile and his accent—both were just to irresistible to say no to. So after a second round of drinks, Harry made the rather impulse decision to ask the man to dance, and let Miguel lead him out onto the floor.

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Out on the dance floor, Harry knew the minute Draco's eyes settled on him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and he shivered. Draco's eyes had always had that effect on him. His dance partner apparently misinterpreted his shiver, as he purred "you like that do you?" in Harry's ear as he continued to grind up against Harry in time to the music.

Not really Harry thought to himself, but it sure felt nice to be desired by someone so Harry didn't say anything. Despite Neville's earlier warnings, and Harry's decision to keep things cordial between them, he couldn't bring himself to tell Miguel to stop, so he simply closed his eyes and tried to lose himself in the music and forget the fact that Draco, the man he wanted back so badly, was less than a hundred feet away and was watching him grind a total stranger. But instead of forgetting about Draco, dancing with Miguel just made Harry want Draco more—Draco knew him, his body, what he liked and didn't like, and while what Miguel was doing felt pretty damn good, it would be heck of a lot better with Draco.

Harry so effectively lost himself in thoughts about Draco that when his dance partner turned around and started placing kisses up Harry's throat, Harry jumped a little in surprise.

Miguel, once again misinterpreting Harry's reaction, purred in Harry's ear "Ticklish, eh Harry?" and promptly went back to sucking Harry's neck. Harry, on his part, just made a non-committal grunt, not really sure what else to do or say. He hadn't been so close to another man since his breakup with Draco, and it was seriously throwing him for a loop—it felt so wrong, like he was betraying Draco, but it felt so good at the same time. Just as Harry was getting ready to push the man away for some space, Miguel found his weakness—the soft spot behind his ear—and began sucking on the place with such fervor that all thoughts were pushed from Harry's brain, and his mind and body focused solely on the present.

Pulling his partner up for a sizzling kiss, Harry melted under the heat of the lips against his, and when he felt a tongue probing rather impatiently at his lips, he gladly granted it access, adding to the pleasure he was already feeling. Wrapped in Miguel's arms, Harry lost all sense of time as their bodies naturally moved together in an elaborate cycle of snogging and grinding.

When Miguel grabbed Harry's hand and led him towards a back booth, Harry let him. And arriving at set booth, Harry just barely noticed Draco looking at him from the bar where he sat with Hermione. An auror to the bone, Harry made note to ask Hermione about it later, but any further speculations and observations were wiped clean and Miguel pulled Harry down into his lap, and went back to exploring the depths of Harry's mouth.

It didn't take long for Miguel to suggest they move elsewhere, and once again Harry's willpower was overridden by the red-hot bloody pumping through his veins and fueling his passion. Since the other man didn't know his way around the club, it was Harry who took charge this time, heading towards the back down and the alleyway which was a popular disapparition spot. However, when they arrived in the alley, he found himself being pushed up against the brick exterior of the club, Miguel even more aggressive now that they were outside.

Neville's warning flooding to mind, Harry tried to push the shorter man away but Miguel wasn't going to be easily moved. Moving his hands under Harry's t-shirt, Miguel ran his hands over Harry's abs as he went back to Harry's weak spot, murmuring in Harry's ear all the things he wanted to do to Harry and it was a very creative list. Apparently intending to start his on his list immediately, Miguel reached for Harry belt, but Harry grabbed his wrists before he could get anywhere.

Peering up at Harry, the other man pouted. "Ah, come on babe, I know you want it." And as if to prove his point, he moved one hand to cup Harry's erection.

Throwing his head back at the added pressure, Harry let out a muffled groan, before looking back at the other man and shaking his head firmly—it wasn't going to happen.

Ignoring Harry's protests, the shorter man pressed forward and dropped to his knees, nuzzling his face into Harry's hip. "Please Harry? I can feel how ready you are for me. No one will ever know. I'm heading back to Portugal tomorrow to join my family, you will never see me again. Promise."

Looking down at the other man, Harry noticed for the first time a chain he wore around his neck. Reaching down, Harry caught hold of the chain and pulled up on it, revealing a gold ring dangling from the end of it.

"You bastard", Harry all but snarled at the other man, and bring his knee up, he drove it into the man's shoulder, knocking him backwards on the asphalt. Stepping gingerly over the man, Harry made his way back towards the club, completely ignoring the other man's protests.

"Please babe, come back. I didn't mean anything by it—it was just harmless fun. Please come back."

Harry saw red—cheating, in his book, could never be considered harmless fun. Turning around, he strode purposefully back to where the man was still kneeling on the ground, looking pathetic. "First, and let's get this straight—cheating in no way is harmless or fun. I have half a mind to contact this spouse of yours and tell him what an absolute asshole you are to take something like this so lightly. Second, I am no, will never be, and never was your baby, and if you call me babe on more time, I swear to god I will make you pay dearly for it. And third—stay the hell away from me, Neville, and all of my friends."

Seeing that the other man knew he wasn't joking, Harry returned to the club and made his way back to where a few of his friends were still gathered. Pointedly ignoring their questions, Harry just stood there, his arms crossed in front of him defensively, mentally cursing himself for being such a bloody moron.

Harry was pulled from his thoughts as an uncharacteristic silence fell of over his group of friends. Looking up, it didn't take Harry long to see what they were all staring at. In the middle of the dance floor, Draco and an incredibly good looking man had totally given up on dancing and were giving a very elaborate display of public affection. Watching the couple, and knowing Draco's physical tells, Harry wasn't surprised when the couple disapparated on the spot. Great, Harry though, so I'm not getting laid, and the man I still love just left with a gorgeous man. Deciding to call it a night before it got any worse, Harry headed back towards the ally, desperately hoping it was empty.

But alas, Harry's luck just wasn't that good. Pushing past Miguel and his new friend, Harry whispered a jinx in Miguel's direction before he disaparated. At least the bastard wouldn't be getting laid tonight either, Harry thought darkly as he knocked on the door in front of him.

(XXXXX)

Taking one look at her friend, Hermione knew Harry wasn't having a good night. Motioning for Harry to come in, Hermione called for Ron to put the kettle on, knowing that his was going to be a late night. Harry, knowing this house as well as he knew his own, made his way into the lounge and took a seat on one of the couches, and while he waited for Ron and Hermione to join him.

Sitting in the silence, Harry thought over the emotion roller coaster the night had turned out to be. Contentment from being with his friends turned into lust and desire for a complete stranger, which was replaced by anger and self-deprecation, which finally subsided to leave a deep rooted despaired. Despair over his inability to choose his own life, make his own decisions, to be with who he loved.

Accepting a cup of tea from Ron and he and Hermione sat down, Harry didn't say anything but waited for one of them to ask the first question. It was Ron who spoke first, his voice gentle—a tone he generally reserved for victim interviews or hospital visits.

"What happened to Miguel Harry?"

Harry's eyes flashed with anger as he said in a furious voice, "He was a fucking asshole, and if he comes anywhere near me, or either of you, in the future, he will regret that decision until the day he dies." Harry's tone left Ron and Hermione with no desire to press further and so silence again filled the room.

It was Hermione who broke her silence next. "I spoke with Draco tonight."

"I know, I saw you." Harry swallowed hard, "and let me guess—he is doing brilliantly." Probably all set to announce his impending engagement Harry added mentally.

"No he's not." The icy tone in Hermione's voice caught Harry off guard. "He's hurting Harry."

Harry laughed, he couldn't help himself, but it was a cold laugh born more out of pain than humor. "Hermione, the only parts of him that are going to be hurting are those parts of his anatomy he needs to have sex." Taking in the confused expressions of his friends, Harry got the distinct impression he was missing something. "Oh come on, you talked to Draco and he didn't brag about his new beau to you? I find that hard to believe."

"He doesn't have a new boyfriend mate." Ron was looking at Harry with a growing look of pity.

"Yes he does. I saw them—they disapparated directly off the dance floor where, let me tell you, they weren't doing much dancing." Now it was Harry's turn to look at his friends in confusion.

"No he doesn't." Ron countered, "I ran in Parkinson in the club. She told me Draco was in a right bad place and that she was going to fix him up with one of her friends later tonight. That must be who you saw with Draco."

"But, I thought…but, he was…" Harry did know what he was trying to say—there were so many thoughts swirling around his head he couldn't keep them straight. Finally he blurted out "But Draco doesn't have one night stands, ever."

"He might." Hermione moved to sit next to Harry. "He misses you Harry—it was pretty obvious while I was talking to him. He might have gone home with that man tonight hoping to escape for bit." Reaching out to take Harry's hand, she added "You should talk to him."

"I can't Hermione," Harry pulled his hand away from hers, the despair inside causing him to last out angrily. Harry continued, cutting off both Ron and Hermione's attempts to speak. "You know why I can't talk to him, why I can't get back together with him."

Getting up and pacing around the room, Harry continued, "you read some of those letters the Auror Department intercepted, letters promising to cause him pain for corrupting me. And I'm sure you both remember the crazy people now locked away who tried to kill him because he wasn't good enough for the 'Chosen One'. God, how could I be in a relationship with him knowing that our relationship was putting him in danger?"

Even Hermione with all of her knowledge didn't have an answer for Harry, and as he continued to pace around the room, the anger he was feeling mere moments ago gave way to despair once more as Harry contemplated the unfairness of life. Despair was slowly overcome by pain as hot tears built up behind Harry's glasses, obsecuring Harry's vision and threatening to fall with the blink of an eye.

Stopping in front of the mantel, Harry looked up and saw a picture from his birthday last year. Draco, with an arm around his waist, was giving him a kiss on the cheek as he held out his wrist, proudly displaying the bracelet that was Draco's present to him. Reaching into his pocket, Harry pulled the bracelet out, and brought it to his lips, his shoulders shaking as tears fell down his face.

"Oh Harry," Hermione breathed as she got up and rushed to her friend's side. Wrapping an arm around his waist, Hermione took his weight, and slowly lowered them to the floor, where she pulled Harry close as he continued hold the bracelet tightly to his lips. Ron came up behind the pair, and putting an arm across each of their shoulders acted as the anchor that held the three together for the time being.

Harry cried until he had no more tears left, and when he couldn't cry any longer, he just sat there, knowing that for the time being he was safe. That being here with his friends to support him was the easy part and that in the morning when he had to get up and face the realities of another day without the man he loved, and that sure as hell wasn't going to be easy.

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There, that's it! Let me know what you all think.