Disclaimer: None of the characters in this story are mine, none of the important ones anyway. Paris is not mine, but the places I have described to be in Paris are totally created by my head

Warning: This is SLASH. Male/Male relationships...If you don't swing that way, swing on by to that button up there which says, BACK.

A/N: Yes! I have done a cool one-shot! Yes!Ccomments will be loved and appreciated…

Moving On

by: Solstice

Paris. The lights on the Eiffel Tower reflecting on a small river. A bridge was built there so romance-induced couples could stroll through the park from one end to the other without getting wet. The government thought of removing the river altogether because a bridge was cliché, but then where would Chez Snobbe get their escargot? Speaking of Chez Snobbe, a man rose from his seat. He exited the same way he entered, alone. He didn't even pull the neck of his coat closer to shield himself from the cold, like the rest of civilization would when they come from a warm restaurant to the frigid cold of Paris at the height of winter. This man was not like the rest of civilization, then, was he? Even a complete idiot would be able to feel something different with this man, something magical. But no one was brave enough to stop and stare long enough to figure out anything about this man. He walked on and stopped at the middle of the controversial bridge. He got something from his left pocket. It shone like the other lights of Eiffel. It was a ring of white gold, shaped like a snake with emerald eyes that stared up at him. He stared back at the lovely piece of jewelry and memories flashed back.

"I want you to have this."

"What for?"

"To remember me by."

"Very funny, what is it? A portkey to some unknown land? Maybe to an ogre's den."

"It's a ring."

"I can see that. I'm confused, not blind."

"I want you to have it."

"No."

"No?"

"Did I stutter?"

"This is a 24-karat white gold ring with rare, perfectly shaped emeralds only found in the deepest mines of... You know what? Forget it. I was going to give it to you for Christmas but no, forget it."

"Whew, I thought you were proposing. Thank God it's just a cheap ploy to buy my affections."

"CHEAP! I am not cheap. And I am not trying to buy your affections. As of last week, I already owned it."

"Says the man with who is giving me jewelry, as if I'm a whore."

"You bloody idiot! There is no use talking to you. Here," The ring is thrown at the other person's feet, "Happy Christmas."

The man threw the ring into the river. Its luster making it shine right before it hits the water. "Happy Christmas, Draco." He then proceeded to walk toward the Fleur-de-lis hotel, fully determined to sleep after getting mildly drunk on champagne, it was Paris after all. He entered the grand lobby and strode to the front desk.

"Allo Mizter Potter, welcome back," the receptionist beamed.

"Can I have my room card please?"

"Ofv course," she replied while fumbling around for Harry's room key, "Ave a pleasant Chrizmas."

"Thanks, you too," Harry smiled, receiving his card.

It was actually really uncomplicated at first, with both of them only being in it because they were terribly lonely. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy somehow ended up shagging each other senseless during the Christmas break of their 7th year. Harry had nowhere to go so he stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas, and the same went for Draco. The summer before, Lucius was finally sentenced to the Kiss and his mother went a more than a little insane. Draco went to the execution and calmly watched his father's soul leave his body. No one else was there and no one offered comfort. The Ministry took hold of the Mansion and Draco severed all his ties with anything related to Voldemort. He had asked Dumbledore for protection, and he was given it. That year, the Slytherins were avoiding Draco like a plague. Crabbe and Goyle were already recruited as Death Eaters, and Draco blamed himself. He ran away from the Dark Mark but he didn't know how to spare the two boys from it. Pansy and Blaise were still on Draco's side until Pansy had to be swept off to Switzerland to be safe from all the war going on. Blaise was a silent companion but Christmas break beckoned him home, and Draco was alone.

Harry on the other hand, chose his solitude. Everyone knew that the war was starting and that at the end of the year, Harry would have to fight it. Harry was the one doing all the avoiding, making the reason that they had a look of hope in their eyes that Harry didn't like. They didn't know how many deaths there were going to be, there already was. Ronald Weasley was taken from the Burrow one night during the summer before their seventh year while Harry was being guarded in #12 Grimauld Place. They found his body the next day, on Harry's doorstep. Harry was devastated and angry and terrified all at the same time. He floo'd to the Weasleys to tell them the news and bring them Ron's body. It was the most horrible visit he had to make. Molly was bawling and Arthur had that unsteady look in his eye. But what broke Harry's heart was when Arthur asked him to leave because that was a family thing and since Harry wasn't really family…Harry got out of there as fast as he could, feeling the tears fall down his cheeks. He summoned the Knight bus and found his way to Hermione's. She had somehow found out and refused to see Harry, telling him that she needed time to grieve alone. Ron and Hermione were going out that time. Harry was at a loss. He went back to Grimauld and stared blankly at his fireplace. The tears stopped coming and he was empty of emotion. The only people he had ever cared about turned him away. He reached the conclusion that they blamed him for what happened to Ron. He blamed himself for what happened. Harry trashed his living room without even raising his arm The next day an owl came from the Weasley's, apologizing for what Arthur had said and that yes, he was part of the family, Arthur was just in a bit of a shock, but it was too late. Harry was far too gone to see that they were sincere. Hermione floo'd over to apologize too, saying that she was just so devastated. She tried to reach out to Harry but he pushed her away. He started to say that what happened to Ron could happen to her too, but all he barked out was a command for her to leave. To say that the summer was hard for Harry was an understatement. He forced himself back to Hogwarts, determined to finish and then blow the bastard Voldemort to bits. And that was how Harry was left alone.

All their frustrations and anger just came out and they decided to take it out on each other.

"Just so we under - stand each other," Draco said in between gasps of pleasure, "I'm only using – you…"

"Do you hear me complaining?" Harry said, unusually coherent while pounding into Draco.

"As long as we're cle - Ahh!"

Harry bolted upright and wide awake. He was breathing heavily and a thin sheet of sweat graced his brow. Squinting at a wall clock, he tried to make out the time but he was practically blind without his glasses. His heart was racing fast and his fingertips were tingling where he could still feel Draco beneath him. Harry stood up and went to the bathroom. He took a shower and retreated back to bed. There was a rustling in the sheets and Blaise Zabini's head emerged from the blankets.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He asked, blinking away his sleepiness.

"Nothing, go back to bed," Harry lied while he ducked under the covers.

"Is it Draco again?" Blaise asked steadily, as if he knew the answer already.

Harry didn't reply and instead kissed Blaise full in the mouth. Blaise tried to move away so that they could talk but Harry grabbed the back of Blaise's head and parted their lips. The Slytherin conceded and melted into Harry. He was saying sorry with every movement of his tongue inside Blaise's mouth. Because Harry felt like he was betraying both Blaise and Draco and all he could do was say sorry.

"What is it exactly that you want from me Potter? Happily ever after? I can't give you that."

"I know; it's nothing like that…"

"Then what is it? I thought we had an understanding. We can fuck each other, no strings attached, and go right back to ignoring each other. It is a very simple concept even your thick Gryffindor head should be able to grasp it."

"I don't think I can stop myself from feeling something for you."

"What? You can't keep a reign on your emotions…"

"Yeah. With you screaming out my name and coming in my mouth, yeah it's bloody difficult not to fall for you."

"Well, you better try harder."

"You think I want this? Do you think I need to be falling in love with Draco Fucking Malfoy! No. But I want you and there is nothing I can do about it."

"Potter, you can possibly expect me to return these feelings, or whatever, that you have for me."

"You don't have to. Just let touch you and let me kiss you, then maybe everything will turn out okay."

"Nothing will ever be okay. I thought you of all people would know that."

But Draco still went willingly into Harry's arms and let the night melt his reservations.

Draco Malfoy was killed in Diagon Alley 8 months after he graduated from Hogwarts. A group of Death Eaters attacked Diagon Alley and Draco was caught in the crossfire. It was three days before Harry defeated the Dark Lord. Harry came back from Iceland, where Voldemort had retreated, battle-weary and excited to see Draco whom he had promised to return to. Blaise Zabini was waiting for him in the flat that Harry shared with Draco. When Harry learned of his lover's death, we went wild. He started throwing furniture around and magically setting his flat on fire. Rumors said that he even made the whole building collapse, but that wasn't true. Blaise put out the flames and Stupefied a seething Potter. He sent Harry to St. Mungo's for help. Harry was making it very difficult for the staff. He kept shattering windows, setting things on fire and throwing people out the room. And that was when Harry was asleep. St. Mungo's tried their best to clam him down, but nothing helped. They gave him his own padded cell in his own wing. Blaise would visit Harry and try to talk to him. He would bring food and try to feed Harry, but Blaise often left his room a bit bruised and occasionally bleeding. Until one day, when Blaise found Harry a little sedated and quietly muttering to himself in a corner.

"Harry? Can you hear me?" Blaise asked approaching Harry warily, "It's me, Blaise."

Harry stopped talking to himself and faced Blaise. He cocked his head to one side. Harry lifted an arm and stroked black hair away from Blaise's blue eyes. He slowly traced Blaise's cheek and carefully rested his had under the taller boy's chin. Blaise didn't dare move, afraid to provoke violence from the fragile boy. Then, Harry kissed him.

"I'm sorry. I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you," Blaise whispered into Harry's neck

"You're not taking advantage of me," Harry said, trying to distract the pale boy by unbuttoning Blaise's shirt.

"It's just, after we visited Draco's grave…I don't think you're over him yet."

Harry growled and pushed Blaise's shoulders to force them to face each other.

"Let's not talk about it. Alright?"

"But we need to talk about it. He was my best friend…"

Harry let go of his shoulders and looked away. It was Blaise's turn to force eye contact. He caught Harry by his cheek and waited for him to look up.

"I know he was your first…"

"Blaise-"

"And I'm not trying to replace him. But I don't want to guilt you into this either. I don't mind playing second fiddle…"

"You're not-"

"It's better than not playing in the band." Blaise sighed, "I think I love you, Harry Potter. And I need to know how you feel."

Blaise held his breath and waited for a response.

Harry cradled his champagne in his arms while he listened to Broken Hallelujah on the muggle radio. He was alone, on Christmas Eve, almost drunk and stifling the urge to sing along.

Blaise's hand was soft in his as Harry walked unsteadily toward the cemetery. A few months after he was discharged from St. Mungo's and a few weeks after he and Blaise started going out, Harry wanted to see Draco's grave. Blaise reluctantly agreed on the condition that he came along too. Harry said that he wouldn't dream of going alone and then there they were. They stopped in front of a simple gravestone, made entirely out of silver. Harry dropped down on his knees and traced the word DRACO with his fingers. Blaise remained standing and put some flowers on top of the gravestone. He looked down and saw Harry's shoulders shaking. Blaise bent down and put his arms around Harry. The smaller boy turned and buried his head on his boyfriend's chest. Blaise kissed the top of Harry's head. He let him cry and mourn for Draco.

Harry was still rocking back and forth when he heard a familiar snort behind him.

"Pathetic. I always knew you'd end up like this," Draco's spectral voice said.

"Go away," Harry mumbled. Every year he would be haunted by Draco's sneer. Every year he ached for him to be real, and not just a figment of his imagination.

"I missed you. It's really boring in Heaven."

Harry snorted and drank from his bottle.

"Where's Blaise? Don't tell me he sacked you. He was always too good for you."

"We broke up," Harry hiccoughed, "maybe a month ago."

"You fool. You stupid, ungrateful fool. He gave you his heart and you turned it down."

"Like how I gave my heart to you and you turned it down," Harry said in a low voice.

"I don't remember turning anything down. I distinctly remember dying, though."

"Did you ever love me?" Harry asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Always." Ghost Draco sighed, "But of course I'm not really real so, who knows? You on the other hand are. You aren't dead so you have no excuse to leave Blaise."

"Shut up!" Harry shouted. He could see Draco-the-ghost's reflection on a window.

"Why did you let him walk away? Didn't you love him?"

"Of course I loved him!" Harry roared and twisted to face Draco. The ghost wasn't there, the figment of Harry's imagination wasn't there, "I just couldn't love him enough."

"Nonesense."

Harry turned around and saw Blaise standing with his arms folded on his chest and his hair waving in the breeze coming from an open window.