The knock on his apartment is something that Harry has been expecting. In fact he's been sitting still for the better part of two hours, fingers curling and uncurling on one of the couch pillows, eyes fixed on the door.

He moves like its a dream, his fingers carefully following the standard procedure for opening doors. But he doesn't look out the pinhole.

He might lose his nerve if he did that.

Sure enough, Draco stands on the other side, a brown bag on one hand and a bunch of DVDs in the other.

"Hey." The blonde has a smile that is nervous and uncertain. Harry just stares at him and reluctantly smiles back. He steps aside and Malfoy drifts in, his eyes automatically shifting around the room. Harry wonders what he's looking for. Is he searching for traces of himself?

If so he was going to be disappointed. Harry had purged the apartment of everything that reminded him ( even remotely) of the other boy. Except for Roger, his black and white collie, who is currently greeting Draco with all the enthusiasm of a long lost friend.

But Draco doesn't comment and merely settles on the old sofa and suddenly Harry feels a whoosh in his head as his mind flashes back.

"Dude, this has got to be the ugliest couch in the history of ugly couches." Draco wrinkles his nose as he plops down on the couch.

"Well , that's what you're here for, pretty boy. To make everything look better "

Harry gives him a wolfish smile and pounces on top, knees resting on either side of Draco's lean waist, pushing into the blonde with easy familiarity.

Draco grins, fingers curling into his waist, thumbs tracing circles on the smooth skin above the waistband of his jeans.

"Am I ?" He hums, pulling him down and brushing his lips against his earlobe. And honestly that's all it takes .

One small syllable and he's hardening, his erection pressing into Draco, his blood flowing south and his mind melting into something that defies understanding. No one else, he realizes as his lips find Draco's.

No one else would ever make him feel this way.

"Harry! Harry, are you alright?" Someone's shaking him and Harry snaps to the present, his vision clearing slowly. He blinks, focusing on the worried look on Draco's face. He tries to keep looking but he can't, his eyes moving away from the handsome face quite quickly.

He looks over the boy's shoulder , eyes resting on the brown paper bag.

"Is that Chinese?"

The take-out is delicious. Harry eats more than he's eaten in a long while. Draco has rented out a few of Harry's favorites and they watch a couple of them, laughing in the familiar parts , ignoring when their hands brush as they try to reach for popcorn at the same time.

Afterwards, Draco takes all the dishes to the kitchen, asking Harry to rest for a while. It already past ten in the night. Harry watches, fascinated, as Draco puts on a faded blue apron, slips on yellow plastic gloves and uses the curve of his elbow to brush away his blonde bangs.

The sudden silence is all it takes for him to come back to his senses.

He feels something inside him snap.

"What the fuck , Draco?" He says quietly , standing up and moving to the center of the hall.

Draco looks up, confused . He sees the look on Harry's face and lowers his head. The apron and the gloves come off and he turns to him.

"Harry."

"What the fuck is this? What the fuck are you doing here?" He snaps. His mind is racing, his pulse pounding in his ears. He's feeling oddly ecstatic. He needs this. He needs to know what was going on with his life. He's sick of flowing through the days like a dried leaf caught in a September wind.

He needs answers.

"I wanted to see you." Draco says quietly.

It's not what he wants to hear. But he doesn't know what he wants to hear. Only that this wasn't it. He feels a headache coming as his mind tries to sort out the emotions raging through his body. He hasn't confronted his feelings in a long while, having pushed everything to the back of his mind and now he felt like a deck of cards on the verge of disintegrating.

He turns around, his breath coming out in pants and suddenly there are arms around him. He's dressed in a simple white wife beater and he can feel the heat radiating from Draco's chest as the boy hugs him, his taller frame cocooning Harry in warmth and familiarity.

The same warmth that has carried him through nightmares and storms and cold September winds.

"I'm sorry."

The words are shaky and he feels something wet against his shoulders.

He resists the urge to turn around in his arms. He can't. Not when he's still vulnerable to those icy grey eyes. Instead he places one hand on the fingers splayed on his stomach.

"I won't ask you to forgive me. Just this, one day at a time. I swear I won't ask anything else." The words are still shaky and the wetness on his shoulders is spreading. Its mirrored on his own cheeks and he furiously swipes away the tears, surprised he still has any left.

They stand that way for a long time, the seconds dragging into minutes as they let the tears flow. The rain stops and Draco pulls away. He doesn't turn Harry around, moving in front of him instead. He reaches out and cups his face in his doesn't trust himself to look up.

A fleeting kiss to his forehead and Draco's gone.

Harry sinks into the couch, his knees curling up to his chin as he stares into the darkness , hands absent mindedly stroking Roger's warm fur.

Draco doesn't see Harry at work the next day. He doesn't find him in his apartment either and he is torn between worry and guilt. Had he triggered something he shouldn't have?

Twenty eight hours later, Draco is frantic. But no one seems even remotely interested in helping him. Weasley merely stares blankly, wondering , no doubt, why Draco was panicking. It was common for Harry to disappear. He would be back.

The response isn't enough for Draco and he feels close to hysteria, unsure where to go or who to ask. He is scared and worried and he wants to know if he's done something, said something that he ought not to have.

This is how Harry must've felt, all those years ago.

He feels tears threaten.

Three days later, at two in the morning, there's a knock in his apartment. Draco is still groggy, his limbs aching from trying to squeeze into the couch. He has never been able to sleep alone in his gigantic bed.

He stumbles and drags himself upright and pulls on a shirt, moving to the door and peering out of the pinhole.

His mind awakens instantly and he's frantically pulling at the locks and levers.

Harry collapses into his arms, the stench of booze and dirt strong in his body. Draco tries to steady him, but the raven haired boy merely grunts, his limbs boneless .

Draco manages to prop him against the wall, fumbling for the light switch and when he looks down, Harry has sunk to the ground, his legs sticking out.

Draco is struck with a sense of deja vu. All those years ago, he's been in the same position, forced to take care of a drunk Harry, who could never handle alcohol. He sinks to his knees next to the prone figure and gently takes of his shoes. Harry watches him closely.

"Draco." He slurs.

"Where the fuck have you been?" Draco asks , pulling off the socks with more force than necessary.

Without warning, Harry launches himself at him, knocking out his breath as he crashes to the hard floor. His breath stinks of alcohol and he's gasping and Draco has a hard time trying to get his bearing.

"What about you Draco? Where the fuck have you been?" Harry grunts, fingers clutching the collar of his shirt as he forces his face as close to Draco's as possible.

"I-"

Draco doesn't get a chance to reply, because Harry's kissing him, hard and frantic , like he can't get enough.

Draco tries to push him away, he really does.

But its impossible.

Harry almost rips his shirt off his fingers clawing across Draco's torso.

"Seven fucking years... Why? Why Draco? Why would you do that to me?".

The words stab him, over and over again and Draco's crying because he has no answer. He's not sure if he can ever justify the reason he left. All those things that seemed so important seven years feel like flimsy excuses now and he can't bring himself to say them out loud. He's scared to voice his uncertainties and his insecurities, because saying them out loud would make them true.

Would give them life.

Instead he settles back, letting Harry kiss him, trying to still the gasps of pain as nails dig into his shoulders. Harry shrugs his own shirt off and the sight of his lightly tanned skin sends shivers down Draco's spine. The guilt and regret is being over taken by lust and desire and he knows he has to stop.

"Harry, we shouldn't..." He tries to push himself up but Harry knees find purchase between his thighs, his clothed arousal pressing against his thigh. He grinds down into him, his lower body anchoring Draco to the ground. He fumbles with his own belt buckle, pushing his jeans and his boxers down to his ankles.

"Shouldn't... ? Who are you to say what I should or shouldn't do... You shouldn't have left me , Draco. You shouldn't have fucking disappeared!"

His fingers slip into Draco's boxers and Draco almost shoots out of the ceiling.

"Harry.." He keens , trying to dislodge him but the fingers are closing around him , tugging moving , ghosting over his arousal, sending his brain into overdrive. He can't think, can't speak.

"Was I so awful to be with?" Harry asks, his voice cracking and before Draco can refute or confirm his statement he crashes their lips together. Its hard and thirsty and needy , all teeth and tongue and biting and licking and Draco feels like he's caught in a fucking shipwreck , one had curling around the boy on top of him and the other on the lush carpet.

Harry ruts against his thigh and the fingers around him speed up. Its messy and slouchy and they both come without any warning. Draco tries to take great gulps of air, his body screaming for oxygen. Harry slumps against his shoulders , his face buried into Draco's bare chest .

Draco stares up at the ceiling, his body completely exhausted. He tries to reach out to the shoe stand , which has a box of tissues on it. He rolls Harry on to his back, leaning the shorter boy against his chest and cleaning up the mess that they've made . He tosses the tissues in a corner and tries to get up but Harry is deadweight against his chest.

He finally collapses against the floor, fingers absent mindedly threading through the raven locks as he watches the window grow lighter. The sound of rain assaults his ears and he draws Harry closer, while a cool September wind rustles the branches against his window.

Harry wakes up with a throbbing head and aching limbs. It takes him a few seconds to realize where he is. the sight of the familiar blonde head sends his mind into panic mode and he scrambles away from Draco, panting.

The previous night is blurry but he can remember enough details to know that it wasn't good. He gathers his clothes and slips them on quickly willing his mind to forget the alcohol driven disaster of the previous day.

When reaching for his shirt , he kneels next to the sleeping boy next to him.

A patch of sunlight hits Draco's sleeping form and Harry stares at the sleeping boy, the angelic features relaxed and the slightly parted lips, hot little puffs of air escaping him at even intervals. His hair is still perfect and Harry remembers that its one of the things he's always envied about Draco. The perfect hair that was never out of place.

His eyes slips down to his waist and he realizes that Draco's boxers are around his knees.

Oh fuck.

He scrambles away so fast that his elbows hit the coffee table sending sparks down his arm. He clambers up to his feet and almost flies out of the apartment, muttering a quick locking spell on the door.

Draco wakes up at twelve in the afternoon. He tries to piece together his memory and wonders how he managed to sleep that long. He showers quickly , dresses himself in a pale blue shirt and black slacks. He gels his hair and splashes on some aftershave. After making sure he's presentable, he apparates to his destination.

He works through the day, makes no effort to contact Harry.

As the sun sets, he walks out into the night, his shoes making soft noises against the pavement. The rain has gone into hold, at least for the moment , and the night air is chilly against his face. Its dark and cool and Draco enjoys the walk through the starlit streets. He occasionally looks up into the sky, enjoying the bright pin points of light scattered across the velvety black expanse.

His feet take him on the familiar path, although he hasn't walked it in over seven years. The trees rustle somewhere to his right, and some of the residual raindrops land on his neck.

There's something magical about September, he thinks with a smile.

It always has been and always will be, Draco's favorite month. He loves everything,the rain , the winds, the trees changing color and above all the transition from hot sweaty summer days to cold and relaxed winter nights.

The first day of September .

The day his entire world changed. The day he could stop being a frightened teenager hiding from a tyrannical father to an independent happy boy, enjoy his magical existence.

As the path comes into view, he speeds up unconsciously and he finds it amazing that his mind is so certain that Harry would be there. But he knows that its not a baseless assumption. The park has a small bird watch tower, in one of its secluded corners. From on top of the tower, they could see the sun set across the Thames and they could see the specks of yellow orange foliage sprinkled across the city, heralding the autumn season.

Sunsets in September.

Sure enough, Harry's there.

"I guessed you'd be here." He smiles , looking around the small park. It was their personal place. The place they came to when the hectic schedule of work caught up with them, when sleep was rare and cases piled on their heads. It is without a doubt the most beautiful place Draco has ever been to.

He settles down on the park bench, right next to Harry. They're right in front of the pond and the scene is just like the one from just a few days ago. Just like it, but so very different.

The silence stretches into minutes and Draco plays with the tips of his fingers. Harry doesn't move and continues to stare into the inky black waters.

"I was there."

Draco finally utters out loud, staring at the raven haired boy next to him. Harry turns around, confused and uncertain.

"That night, Ron and Hermione's Wedding."

Harry stares at him in shock, his eyes widening.

"Draco , I-" He begins , his voice rising in volume , but Draco quickly reaches out, fingers curling around Harry's wrist.

"Let me finish. "

Draco looks around the enormous banquet, unable to believe that he's actually here. Only for Harry, he thinks with a roll of his eyes. But its a surprise. Harry doesn't know he's here. Draco wants to surprise him. He knows how much it would mean to him if Draco would turn up for Ron's wedding. And so he's here, a small gold wrapped gift in his hands.

No one here has forgiven Draco and that makes it hard. But he's willing to stomach the poorly disguised insults and the angry looks.

Only for Harry. Only because he loves Harry and Harry loves him back.

A voice in his mind whispers, But Harry hasn't told you he loves you.

That was true. But Draco is willing to wait. Someday Harry would say the words, he knows it. Because he knows he means them.

He watches the family as they flit about calling out instructions and trying to keep things perfect. Everywhere he sees there are red haired men and women. he tries to find the familiar raven haired boy but fails miserably. Finally, he moves out of the wedding tent, fingers curled around a champagne flute.

He walks around one of the tents and then stops.

"-Draco, Harry? Of all the guys in the world?" Its Ginny Weasley. Draco frowns, more in confusion than irritation.

"He's a great guy , Ginny." Harry , by contrast sounds genuinely annoyed.

"He's a death eater Harry! No one ever stops being evil! They just don't!"

Draco feels the drink in his hand shaking. Its something he's always scared of. That there was some inherent evilness within him. Something he couldn't just will away. Something that would always taint everything he says or does.

"He's...not ." Harry sounds uncertain and the doubt in his voice crushes Draco. It makes his heart drop to his knees. Harry's trust and faith is the epicenter of his stability. He can feel his entire sanity tipping over at the thought of Harry being cautious around him.

"What happened to us, Harry?"

Draco feels his breath catch in his lungs and the saliva pools at the back of his throat. Something sharp and painful hits his heart. He's scared, irrationally so.

Actually scratch that, he's terrified.

"Ginevra-"

The sentence is cut off with a sound that is unmistakeable. Its the sound that Draco hears every day, more than a dozen times. The sound of Harry being kissed. The sound of Harry kissing back.

He takes a frightened step back, the tears burning the back of his eyes. He's not angry. Far from it.

He's sad... and he's... feeling foolish.

Of course this was going to happen.

He was Draco Malfoy. A coward, a fool and a bad man. What had possessed him to think that he could ever hold on to Harry?

He doesn't deserve him.

And so he turns tail and walks out.

Out of the wedding.

And out of Harry's life.

"Draco..."

Draco doesn't realize he's crying.

"I'm sorry... I just... I was scared. I was so dependent on you Harry. The mere thought of you leaving me... the thought of you having doubts about me... it... it shattered me. I needed time. Time to pull myself together. I wanted to be certain. certain of myself before I came back."

Harry doesn't say anything. Instead he moves closer, his palms resting against Draco's face.

"If you'd stayed around for a few more minutes, you wouldn't have had to." He says quietly.

Draco looks at him in confusion.

"Come on."

They reach Harry's apartment and Harry drags him inside a closet. There's a stone basin that he recognizes as a pensieve. He watches as Harry pulls of electric blue strands of his memory and swirls them into the vessel.

"Let's go." Harry drags him into the swirling mist.

They're inside the tent and Ginny is kissing Harry. Draco feels the hurt in his chest, although its seven years ago. But the next second he's pushing her away.

"What the hell is that?" Harry demands.

"I just thought..."

"Well , you thought wrong. I ... I... I love him." the look on his face makes Draco's breath catch in his throat.

"Harry... " Ginny looks stunned. But Harry is shaking his head.

"I love him. And you know what? I'm ;leaving right now and I'm finding him . And I'm telling him, I love him. " Harry storms out of the tent.

Draco blinks back as he returns to the present, his mind clogged and his heart threatening to beat out of his rib cage. Harry's fingers are still curled around his.

"Harry..."

"If you'd hung around, I would have found you. I would have held you and I would've... I would've told you the truth Draco." Harry mumbles, eyes fixed on Draco's shoes.

"Harry..."

"I love you. Always have. Always will. I don't care who or what you were. I love you." Harry looks up, fierce determination on his face.

Draco closes the distance between them , his lips finding Harry's. Its not gentle and its not soft. Its hard and desperate and Draco feels like he's drowning . He stumbles out of the closet and they almost crawl over to the bedroom, tripping over things and knocking down stuff.

Just like old times.

They sit on top of the Bird watch tower, a blanket spread out beneath them. Draco leans against the rickety wooden post and Harry is curled in his lap, his fingers playing with the buttons of Draco's shirt. He has a look of childlike satisfaction on his face. The dark circles are no longer marring his clear skin.

Draco traces circles on the smaller boy's back , his lips occasionally kissing the top of his head and the curve of his cheeks. Harry leans into him, allowing himself to be pampered.

Draco stretches out his limbs. They're no longer tired because he no longer sleeps alone. The rain is steady but soft, and the sun has managed to break through the clouds.

"What made you come back?" Harry prompts, looking up at him from under the black fringes.

Draco smiles.

"I realized that it wasn't just you."

Harry gives him a questioning look.

"That day. It wasn't just about you losing trust in me. I should've trusted you too. enough to talk to you about it." He says quietly, brushing his lips on the top of Harry's head.

Harry hums in agreement and then pushes his fingers up, his hands curling around Draco's neck.

"I'm tempted to just squeeze..." He applies light pressure to Draco's throat and then moves his fingers up to curl into his blonde locks. Draco responds, bending low and placing light kisses on the others lips.

" But I'm happy." Harry continues," I'm glad you came back. I'm happy here, Draco. " He smiles then, a wide guileless smile and its as if the seven years never happened. Draco smiles and together they turn around, looking into the open space before them.

September is coming to an end.

The sky is red and gold and the entire world seems to be painted in hues of orange and pink.

Its beautiful. but not as beautiful as the boy in his arms.

"I love you , Harry." Draco smiles .

Harry doesn't reply, his eyes trained on the sunset. He entwines his fingers with Draco's, lifting their hands to his lips.

There's something magical about sunsets.

ring out the bells again
like we did when spring began
wake me up when September ends

here comes the rain again
falling from the stars
drenched in my pain again
becoming who we are

as my memory rests
but never forgets what I lost
wake me up when September ends

- Wake me up when September ends, By Green Day.

A/N :- as you can guess I was listening to Greenday when I wrote this... Its not my best fic but its something I feel oddly connected to. Forgive me for any grammatical mistakes. Thank you for reading this. Drop a review and let me know what you think... :) :)