Draco? Julian?

Explanation, Draco

Harry PoV (Some swearing from Draco and Harry)~

"Draco."

"Yes, Harry?" Draco asked, continuing to walk in front of me.

"Draco."

"What do you want, Potter?" he snapped, stopping and turning to look at me.

"An answer."

"To what?"

"This," I said, vaguely waving my hand through the air. "All of it."

"Where do you want me to start? I already told you more or less the entire story."

"Start with why you left Britain."

"The Philosopher's stone, Potter. I already told you. The Brahmastra. Emma told me it could bring her back."

"Who is Emma?"

"A muggle friend of mine. We were really close, until she died."

"How?"

"Some muggle illness. When we were, maybe, six."

"You had friends. Who were muggles." I couldn't help letting out a laugh.

"Yes. What's so funny about that?"

"Nothing!" I denied.

"Dear Lord, Potter, why are you laughing?"

"It's just..." I took a deep breath. "It's hard to believe someone like you, son of the right hand of Voldemort, who was fully intent on killing every muggle and muggleborn on Earth, would have muggle friends!"

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. "I was six."

"Still."

"Harry, please, let me get back to the story."

"There's more to it than you told me when Barry was in the office? Honestly, Draco, who makes friends with people named Barry? After being the arch-nemesis of someone named Harry?"

"It's not my choice whether my office partner is Barry, Cisco, Caitlyn, Joe, or hell, even Wells, if everyone except Cisco and Joe worked at CCPD. I don't decide that crap. If I did, I would definitely have gone with Cisco. He's so much of a you nerd that I might learn something about you from the muggle perspective." He was walking backwards now, still facing me, but covering ground much quicker than usual.

"That's not telling me anything about the story, Draco."

"Are you accusing me of avoiding the question, Harry?"

"Isn't that what you always do?" I asked.

"Ooh. A spat between lovers," a cold voice said from the shadows of a dumpster. "How touching."

I pulled out my wand, soon followed by Draco. "Who and where are you?"

"I'm right here," the voice drawled. "In the shadows."

Draco swore softly, taking out a muggle phone and dialing a number. Suddenly, the phone was out of his hand and on the ground. "Are you-"

The voice laughed. "No, Desmond, I'm not a 'meta,' as you at Labs call us."

"I was going to ask if you were fucking kidding me," he grumbled.

"Draco?" I whispered, uncertain.

"Right here," he hissed. "Stay. Behind. Me."

"What's going on?"

"The messed up shit's that's been happening ever since I went to live with muggles. What do you think? That my life in self-inflicted exile was perfect?"

"Explain what's going on."

Draco shook his head subtly, his slightly grown out, dirty blonde hair flinging itself into my mouth. I immediately spit it out. "Not. Now. Stay behind me," he murmured, drawing a gun.

It joined the phone on the pavement.

"Show yourself," Draco snapped under his breath.

"You work with a speedster, Desmond, I would think you know how to recognize them."

"Dear sweet merciful Jesus," Draco sighed. "Not another speedster. Flash is more than enough."

"I'm not a speedster."

"But you said-"

"And Flash hasn't toyed with you?"

"I have no idea who you are, but I'm sorry for this," I muttered, stepping out from behind Draco. "Stupefy!"

There was what appeared to be a flash of lightning, and the spell crashed into the dumpster. The man just laughed. "Too fast for you?"

I turned around, going back to back with Draco in the classic dueling position. "Where are you?"

"Right here." The man smiled, walking out from behind Draco. "Where I always was." He had silver eyes, platinum blonde hair, and looked remarkably like a mix between Gellert Grindelwald and Draco.

"Who are you?" I asked, accidentally gripping Draco's hand. He gripped back, to both his surprise and mine.

"I'm not a meta."

"I gathered that, I want to know who you are."

"I'm like you," the man said, smiling lightly. "Not like them. I followed you, Draco. I know who you are."

Draco's hand migrated to grip my arm, right below my elbow. "How?"

"Well, I guess eighteen years does change a person." He frowned, before smiling again. "Come, Draco. Give your father a hug."

Draco stiffened. "You lost the right to call yourself my father when I was sixteen. Do you remember what happened then?"

"Draco, don't be a fool-"

"I'm not being a fool. I am a grown man and it's about time I acted like it instead of being a snivelling coward hiding behind his father and threatening people with my family name. I didn't come here to escape the glares, the gossipers. I didn't come here to be free of the War. I came here to get away from you, Lucius. I'm not about to join you now."

"Imperio."

Draco shrugged it off as if it were a fly. "Is that all you can do?"

Lucius's wand changed targets from Draco to me. "No," Lucius said, voice cold as ever. "It's not."

"Harry, run-" Draco started to shout, before Lucius interrupted.

"Crucio!"