Author's Note: I have been trying to really write a long Harry and Draco fanfic, but it has yet to come out right. So maybe this will serve as a prologue to it, I can only hope. Please review it would make me ever so happy.

It's bittersweet really, the way I watch you. You look so haggard and your hand doesn't seem to fit in hers. The only time I ever see you smile is when you are with you children and your wife is away. I could make you smile all the time. When we wake up in the morning we would smile and at breakfast we could share a secret grin. When you came home from work your face would break out into the loveliest smile because I am here waiting for you and that would make up both so happy.

I cannot help but sigh when I see you with her and then when she touches you or, god forbid kisses you, I am grimacing with you. One day, maybe you may come to realize that you do not love her, that you never did. It is not wishful thinking, it is a mere fact. Wishful thinking is that you will fall in love with me afterwards, now that is silly. Even though we would be absolutely perfect. We just make sense. Light and dark, opposite but the same. Scorned for something out of our hands and duties enough to give us gray hair at the age of twenty-two, not that I have gray hair.

There you are, alone and looking tired and glancing around for a secluded spot in this café to sit and enjoy a cuppa. The only secluded spot is where I am, the table right in front of me, and you realize this. A sneer almost appears on your face as our eyes meet. I am offering you a small challenged, come sit by me, Potter, come on I will not bother you unless you want me to.

You shrug and then sit down in the table right in front of me, but your back is turned to me so all I can stare at it your hair and back, but that is alright. I have always wanted to run my fingers through your wild hair; I bet it's not coarse at all, but soft. Once or twice I have caught you starring at my hair, do you want to know what it is like to run your hands through it? I will let you, you need only to ask.

The tea has come and I can hear a relieved sigh issue from your lips and my insides squirm. Why have you escaped to this café, Potter? Are you seeking solitude from work, from her, or maybe just from the world. It is such a nice café, with simple Victorian décor and some the of the best tea in wizarding England.

You take your time with your tea; you always do when you are enjoying something. I know that you would take your time with me. Kissing me and touching me and making love to me.

A sad smile appears on my face as my mind fills with long ago daydreams, and as if you know you look around. My faced has morphed in seconds; I am starring back at you with a small smirk and challenging eyes. Your eyes are wide and confused. Do my eyes haunt you Potter; do you lay awake wondering what my challenge is? You are more than welcome to find out. You give me one last quizzical look before turning back around, finishing your tea, and then leaving. Perhaps there is hope for us yet, if you really are thinking about me, no matter how it is, if I am haunting your thoughts then it may not be wishful thinking to say you may one day be mine.

Before you go you give me a nod, "Malfoy," you said. It was not a sweet tone, but it was not a condemning one. I smirk back.

"Have a nice day Potter," I offer and you make a cute jerky move and then leave, paying for your tea.

Not soon afterwards I too, take my leave. After all I have more important things to do than sit in cafes all day, thinking of a man who may or may not ever be mine.