Disclaimer: Harry Potter and etc, belong to the lovely J.K. Rowling. If I could only see into her mind for a day – the wonders I would see! (Jin is mine. I suppose Darren is too.)

Warnings: Non-magic, AU, Language, OOC, MALE ON MALE RELATIONSHIP(S)!!! I warned you, don't bitch to me.

A Lover's Passion – Epilogue

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Notes: I'm leaving a link to the painting that I like to think their cottage exists in, in my profile. An area like that, but theirs is more to the left.

All edited and fixed now, yay!

Thank you once again, to everyone, for all you have done! I love you bunches!

-x-Mayhem

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Epilogue: A Lover's Passion

It was eventually decided by Draco – well, mostly decided for him – that the 'Green Eyes' collection would be permanently displayed at the British National Art Gallery for all to enjoy. Later hailed as the best collection Draco would produce in his entire long career, the 'Green Eyes' collection garnered much public and media attention, newspapers and newscasters reporting on this fabulous new addition in the furthest reaches of North America and Europe. Of course, thanks to Jin, his now famous artist cousin received even further praise from the Japanese nation – who loved his art, and him (That platinum blond hair of his was a mystery to them, and many wished to emulate it).

The "official" opening of the collection was the fanciest party both Draco and Harry had ever been too. And with Draco's past experiences with his Mother's parties, this was saying something. Narcissa enjoyed it immensely. Press from all around the world were there to see the oft spoke about collection that was finally about to be seen by a more general public. Of course, what everyone really wanted to do; was speak with the artist. Naturally, Draco spoke to those who came, and answered their questions, retelling the story of how it had come to be – even though everyone knew it already. They wanted to hear it was true straight from the mouth of the artist. He merely smiled happily and told it over again. The media was not quite as lucky, only earning a soft smile, silver grey eyes sparkling with happiness. "Ask them." He told the cameras, gesturing to the public.

As each person views art in a different way, each would see a different reason behind it. Oh, they may know the story, and have heard the reasons and methods from the artist himself, but the human race is made up of dreamers, bound to come up with some other way. Maybe (though the proof was before them), the love affair between artist and student did not end happily. Maybe it was rife with anger and regret and a sad guilt. For others, it may be an inspiration, that love should not be given up on if it is not completely dead yet. That there is always hope for the good things in life.

And so, that's the story the reporters got. They asked the public their questions, and received a multitude of varied answers for each. They were happy though, because they were rewarded with capturing artist and muse happily together, Harry behind, arms wrapped around the blond, and Draco turned slightly to gaze at him lovingly as Harry shared some little secret with him, both ignoring all but the other, smiles radiant.

It was the picture of the year, splashed on magazine covers everywhere, the pair of lovers everyone loved.

Oh, and it can't be forgotten, but Harry's Love Un-forbidden was kept with Draco's collection, a different side to the story of sorts. As can be expected though, Draco and Harry didn't much enjoy the media side of their fame, preferring to leave it at those who viewed the exhibit. They visited it often in the beginning months, to see who was there, and of course, to talk to the public they had wanted to reach for so long with their art. They could be seen often in the afternoons, standing hand in hand somewhere in the room, talking to a high class member of society (a few of the royals even came to see what the fuss was all about), or someone just like themselves. Young and in love, an aspiring artist, someone who had regained hope for the love they felt. It was quite the thing to watch. Several people ask Draco to teach his class again, and he would just smile and say he'd think about it.

Eventually, their visits became fewer and fewer, until they no longer went to see anyone, not because they were tired of it, though it was tiring, but because they had made a set of plans for themselves. Draco would teach and create a little longer, with Harry's help, and Harry would create art as well, and although he would never be as good as his love, he was satisfied with it. They spent a lot of time down by the river, just talking and watching the people, or sketching like many of the other artists that joined them in the bustle of the river area. People would spot the now famous couple, but left them alone, as they looked so happy and carefree together, no one dared interrupt. A few though, would come up and wish them well, and the boys would smile – indeed, happily – and say thank you, what had they thought of the exhibit? So they continued to be in touch with the people that had inspired them, that had been there in the beginning.

Draco's classes filled quickly, and often left him tired after a day of it, but Harry was always there afterwards. Luckily though, he had to kick fewer and fewer people out now, because the ones with talent came to him to further it. The few he did get that just sat there and mooned and day dreamed over Harry and himself were quickly replaced, as Draco wasn't having any of that.

Deciding where to live was something else altogether though. Draco's studio and home were all-in-one, but it was an odd layout, and uncomfortable for Harry who felt quite boxed in by it. Draco didn't like Harry's apartment because there was no space to paint in. Finally agreeing on something – several loud arguments later (they weren't always perfectly happy. This isn't that kind of romance) – they settled on living in Harry's apartment, and creating in Draco's. Of course, at times Harry would just rather shut himself in his spare room to paint or whichever, and so they could be doing the same thing in different places. Besides, it wasn't healthy to be together every minute of the day.

The next five years continued in the same thread, revolving through teaching and not teaching, friends and family bonds growing closer, and the beloved and cherished sparks of inspiration. After a bit more time spent in London, they decided they needed a change of pace. Something a little slower, but with just as much artistic imagery that they would need for inspiration. They didn't really want to leave, since everyone they loved was there or at least nearby. But being continually in the public eye - even five years after the collection had opened, now the rest of Draco's work got attention – was getting to be quite enough for the two men.

It came one afternoon; that Draco would take action against this, and decided what it was they should do.

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The blond artist – now famed world-wide due to his beautiful renditions of his lover – walked into the living room of the apartment he'd moved into a short while after his opening, looking for said lover. Finding him to be exactly where he should have been, curled up on the couch with the book he simply could not put down, he dropped two long, thin pieces of paper between the pages of the book, putting them in the reader's way so he could catch that attention for a moment.

Harry jumped, and pulled away from his book as Draco dropped something in front of his pages. "Do you mind, I'm trying to read. What is this anyways?" Harry asked, looking at just what had been dropped onto him. "…Plane tickets?"

"Yes, plane tickets. For a small city in the south of France, which we will then leave for a tiny town, and that for a quaint cottage on the edge of a centuries old forest." Draco told him.

"Erm, that sounds lovely, but why?"

Draco rolled his silver-grey eyes and sighed. Five years and he was just as dense. "Because we've been wanting to leave London, haven't we? I talked to Mum about it, and she said that we still had the cottage down in France. So, I had it arranged, and we'll go there for awhile. Maybe forever."

"Your cottage… in France… forever?"

"Yes, haven't you been paying attention?" Draco asked with a slight glare.

Harry looked down at the book forgotten in his lap, words blurred as he took this in. He bit his lip. Did he really want to do this?

Seeing his lover's hesitation, he moved over to sit on the couch next to him, placing both tickets and book on the coffee table in front of them. He took Harry's hand in his, turning him towards him. "Harry, love, it's not as bad as you think. Do you remember that Impressionist show we went to see, back before we got together? You really admired that painting, practically the whole thing was green, of the little cottage on the edge of the woods, and how absolutely tranquil and perfect it looked? That's exactly how it's like in France. You'll love it, I know you will."

Harry's bright green eyes stared into silver, reading them carefully and seeing that this was only being done because Draco thought he would like it, that it would be the best idea for them to take, to get away for a while. Before he could say anything, Draco cut in again:

"And it doesn't really have to be forever. Just for a while. A year maybe. And we can always come back and visit everyone. Mum wouldn't let me use the cottage if I wasn't going to come back and see her."

"I remember the painting, or I'd really be dense. The print you bought me of it is in our room. So, okay. Not forever right now, but we'll see how we like it, and maybe it will be. I think a year there would be fine, with lots of visits." Harry said, really quite liking the idea now that he'd thought about it and heard Draco's reasoning. "I'd really miss Ron and Hermione and especially their little one now. How would they escape without me to take over every so often? And visits to your Mum's are good too; I think I'd miss her too."

Draco laughed. "Well, she'll be glad one of us wants to see her still."

Harry smirked, "Yes, I bet she'll love it when I tell her that her son's been thinking up ways to avoid spending time with her. You'd be back at the manor in an instant."

Draco laughed again at the thought of being dragged back home, imagining the stately woman doing just that. His laughter was cut off, swallowed in Harry's kiss, which Draco enthusiastically returned.

xxXxx ONE MONTH LATER xxXxx

Harry and Draco stepped off the plane onto the tiny strip of tarmac, luggage already in hand, having had to take what basically amounted to a small bush plane to get to this lesser traversed area of France. They were ushered into a tiny building near three large hangers that turned out to be a bit of office space. A woman was bustling about, humming happily to herself, moving papers here and there, filing things haphazardly.

'A bit like Ron's mum.' Harry thought, remembering the woman fondly from school breaks so long ago.

"Draco, remind me to write Ron's mum when we get settled."

"Why on earth would I ever want to remind you to write to Weasley's mum? Draco responded before the woman noticed them.

"Oh, there you are! Sit down a moment, well, if you can find the space." She said in heavily accented English. Harry almost wished he knew French, for she would sound so much better speaking to them in her native tongue, though her English was perfect and voice homey and welcoming. Stashing another folder away in a drawer, she took a seat in a squeaky chair behind the desk as the two men shrugged and found folding chairs to perch on.

"Now, how was the flight?"

"Er, just fine, m'am. Better than those commercial flights, less hassle, really." Harry replied.

"Good, good. I know we're small, but quality counts. You're coming in from London?" She asked next.

"Yes, going to my family's cottage a little ways from here." Draco answered this time.

"Ah, lovely city! Such old charm! Like our Paris." She said, making the last come out as "Par-ee" as all the French did. "Occupations?"

"Artists." Draco replied again.

A brow raised. "Both of you?"

"Yes, both of us, though that may change in the future. It shouldn't though, we're here for inspiration." Harry got in this time. What was all this? Small city Immigration? They'd gone through the real immigration process when they first landed in the major airport, before finding their little ride out here, but he supposed protocol was protocol.

"Oh really? That's lovely. I'm sure you dears will find plenty in the countryside."

"Pardon me for interrupting, m'am, but will this take much longer? There's a long drive ahead of us to the cottage." Draco politely interceded, amused expression lighting his features.

"Oh, oh yes. Sorry dears. Just routine, since we don't get too many out here that aren't regulars. But we're done, thank you so much."

"No problem, m'am. We'll probably be 'regulars' fairly soon ourselves." Harry said with his winning smile.

The woman started for a moment, being graced with that beautiful smile. "Are… you two…?" She left the question unfinished.

At the door now, they turned back to her as one. "Yes, of course." They responded, flashing blinding smiles again.

And then they were gone, leaving the room dull once again, the hearty woman sitting there still, in a bit of a shell shock.

"Oh my." She murmured, fanning herself with a stack of papers. "What a pair."

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The car ride was passed mostly in silence, Draco listening to something classical on the stereo and Harry falling asleep as the sun set. They finally arrived just a twilight was settling over the valley that held their cottage and a couple others as well. Standing at the tiny picket fence, Harry took it all in. Draco was right; it did look just like that painting he loved. And it was perfect for them.

Draco came up and wrapped an arm around his waist. "Well? What do you think?"

"I think forever's looking pretty good." Harry said with a large smile, which was quickly eclipsed by his lover's lips descending on his own.

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