Ch. 12- "Nothing is Ever Easy"
RATING: Well, I was going to just post an R chapter here and then put an NC-17 chapter up on my site, but I don't think an NC-17 scene would fit this story. Sorry to all those who were hoping for a little action (I luv Harry and Draco gettin' it on as much as the next fan ^_~). I hope this satisfies you to some degree, at least. ^_~ Enjoy.
"Nothing is Ever Easy"
"So much for not caring what everyone thinks." Draco's voice had a cold undertone to it as he glared over his shoulder at the brightly lit Hall they were rapidly leaving behind.
Harry, dragging him by the wrist and closer to tears than he had been in a long time, said nothing.
He had never been so humiliated in his life.
Not even five minutes of bliss had passed when the whispers and startled glances had turned to open stares and rude remarks. Some of the louder, more degrading ones had made his face heat up like an oven. Draco had gone stiff, but ignored the jibes. Harry, however, couldn't take it. As the comments flew thick and fast and he saw the mingled disgust and shock on the faces of those he had known for years, Harry had finally lost his resolve and bolted, hauling Draco after him.
Angry calls and threats from the Slytherins rang after them, and vaguely he could hear the teachers trying to calm the mob, Hagrid's booming voice easy to distinguish.
"You knew this was going to happen," Draco sneered. "What's wrong? Can't take it?"
"Shut up," Harry snapped, and his voice wavered. He shut his mouth quickly and continued down the corridors with long strides. Draco must have noticed the desperate tone to his voice, for he quieted and simply followed.
Harry wasn't sure where he was going, or how long he planned to keep running, but after several minutes, Draco had evidently had enough. He came to an abrupt halt and yanked Harry into the nearest dark classroom.
Harry stumbled as Draco released him, grabbing a desk to keep himself from tripping. The door banged shut and a torch on the wall sputtered before coming magically to life, casting eerie shadows on Draco's cold face.
"I didn't think it'd be that bad," Harry whispered at last, his voice hoarse. He gripped the edge of the desk like a lifeline, staring down at its worn surface and fighting to keep back the stinging tears of rejection, humiliation, and shame.
"That's the way people are, Potter." Draco's voice was hard. "Wake the fuck up. You expect people- especially other teenagers -to accept things so readily? You thought they were going to say 'Oh, look, it's Potter and Malfoy- dancing. Isn't that weird?' 'Oh, well, leave them alone. It's all right.'"
"Shut up," Harry whispered, nails digging into the wood.
Draco walked around the desk so that he was staring across it at Harry's bent head and shuddering shoulders. His face was a pitiless mask. "If you really wanted to go through with this, you wouldn't be so ashamed of it."
Harry jerked his head up, glaring furiously at the other boy, his eyes smarting. "How can you NOT be embarrassed?" he shouted. "Everyone hates us! They think we're FREAKS!"
"We were already freaks," Draco said drolly.
"You know what I mean!" Harry shivered, looking away. "I saw.. the look on Ron's face. I don't think he'll ever forgive me for this. He must think I'm disgusting."
"Oh, don't be stupid," Draco snapped. "He's just jealous."
"What are you talking about?" Harry demanded impatiently, wiping hastily at his eyes before the tears could creep out.
"His secret, Potter." Draco sneered. "Or hadn't you figured it out?"
Harry stared at him blankly.
"Did it occur to you that Weasley didn't mention being bothered by the fact that you were attracted to a male after you took care of Kyle? He only asked what you saw in ME."
Harry blinked. THAT was what had been bothering him about what Ron had said- he'd known that something about Ron's reaction had been a little off. "So what?"
"So..." Draco stared at him, waiting for comprehension to dawn, "why do you think that is?"
Harry shook his head dumbly.
"Christ.." Draco rolled his eyes impatiently. "Has he ever acted weird around you? Like, recently? Got flustered if you got too close or mentioned liking anyone?"
Harry opened his mouth and then shut it again. He was thinking about Ron's hot argument to Hermione's dance lessons. "I... guess. Why?"
"You can't be that dense, Potter," Draco said scathingly.
Harry's eyes widened slowly. "You can't be serious," he mumbled.
"Of course I'm serious," Draco said with a shrug. "Ron's developed a stupid little crush on you this year."
Harry took a step back. "But-" he sputtered, "he's my friend! And anyway, he likes Hermione!"
"Actually," Draco said calmly, "he likes both of you."
"Knock it off!" Harry said loudly. "This isn't funny!"
"I'm not trying to be 'funny', Potter," Draco said in a hard voice. "Face up to the truth. Or are you going to keep lying to yourself- about everything? If anyone's being 'funny', it's YOU, Potter." Draco's eyes were flinty, but his voice was angry enough to hint at a feeling of betrayal. "You can dish it but you can't take it, is that it? You're a naive little boy if you thought no harm would come from your curiosity concerning me."
Harry stared at him, agape. Draco glared back, and the silence between them was tense.
When Harry spoke, his voice was tinged with hurt. "Curiosity? You think.. I was just *curious* about you?"
Draco's steely glare held no argument to the question.
Harry's own feelings of rejection and humiliation faded momentarily behind a sudden spark of indignation and hurt. "I can't believe you said that," he said in a low voice, looking directly at the Slytherin.
Draco's mouth tightened and he looked angrily away.
"I'm not 'curious' about you," Harry said quietly, the torchlight flickering and making Draco's expression unreadable. "If I thought it was just simple 'curiosity', I would have never have let you.. kiss me. I wouldn't have had the guts to try this out."
"So what are you saying?" Draco demanded.
"Do you think I'm the kind of person who would play with someone?" Harry asked. "Isn't that YOUR department? How do I know *you're* not just playing with *me*?"
Draco turned his head to glare at him.
"When I said I didn't care what people thought," Harry said, his voice strained and his fingers clenched on the desk edge once more, "I meant it. I'm not going to ignore what I feel just because of what other people say. But you can't blame me for freaking out when everyone I know puts me in the spotlight and points at me like a freak in a zoo." His voice rose. "I've had to put up with that my whole life, Draco! I'm the Boy Who Lived, remember? Do you know how much of a pain in the ass that is to live with?" He slammed his palms down on the desk. "I just want to be ME! I want to be plain old Harry Potter, just another Hogwarts student! At least then I could like who I wanted and not have the entire Wizarding world jumping down my throat and putting me on the front page of the paper with some stupid headline like 'Boy Who Lives Reveals Shocking Sexual Preferences' or some *bullshit* like that!"
Draco was watching him warily, not saying a word. But Harry wasn't finished.
"I'm not ashamed of whatever the hell is going on here," Harry said hotly. "If I was, I would have left you there to deal with everyone by yourself. And I wouldn't even be *talking* to you. After all, you're the one who initiated the dance. I could have told everyone I didn't want to dance with you. Don't you accuse me of not caring, Draco Malfoy. YOU'RE the one with the reputation for having no heart!"
"That's enough," Draco said quietly.
"I don't know whether you give a rat's ass about me or not," Harry continued angrily, ignoring the soft-spoken command. "But I know what *I* feel, and I'm NOT playing with you!"
Draco was around the desk in two long strides, and for a wild instant Harry was sure Draco was going to hit him.
Draco seized him roughly by the shoulders and twisted him around to face him. Then he crushed his mouth to Harry's.
Harry went limp at the bruising kiss, squeezing his eyes shut helplessly as a ruthless tongue pushed past his lips and began a thorough exploration of his mouth. A whimper escaped him, and he grabbed the front of Draco's tailored robes desperately. It was the most mind-searing, extraordinary thing that had ever happened to him, and he felt like he was drowning. Draco's mouth was devouring him, almost desperately, and he responded instinctively with his own lips.
Draco's teasing words from earlier that night drifted back to him. 'Go ahead, Potter. Stick out your tongue again.'
Tentatively he slid his tongue past Draco's, his head swimming at the dark, exotic taste of him, and was only dimmly aware of slender fingers capturing his jaw and then sliding into his hair, gripping his skull in a possessive hold.
Harry gasped for air when Draco abruptly pulled away, his face flushed and his heart pounding. His entire body felt as if it was on fire as he stared dazedly up at the taller boy. "Wha..."
Draco lowered his face and burrowed it against Harry's neck, his tongue flickering out to taste the flesh there. Harry gave a quiet moan, his head falling back helplessly.
"I'm not playing, either," Draco breathed, and Harry shuddered. Then Draco was latching onto his throat with a sucking mouth, and he was no longer capable of coherant thought.
Draco shifted, one hand still tangled in Harry's hair, and let his other hand skim down the shivering boy's chest and abdomen. Then he dipped lower, and pressed.
Harry gave a strangled gasp, jerking his head away even as his body instinctively arched at the intimate touch, seeking more contact. "D-D-Draco!" he sputtered, face flaming. Draco offered a sultry grin, eyes hooded, and did not move his hand. He chuckled.
"Don't worry," he murmured in Harry's ear, lips moving over the sensitive shell. He carressed Harry almost casually with his hand, grinning widely at Harry's sharp cry and at the way his body once more pressed closer. "I won't do anything you don't want me to do..."
"N-no fair," Harry gasped, struggling to bring his body under control. His teenage hormones were going crazy.
He wanted Draco to stop moving his hand- He didn't want him to stop- He wanted to break away- He wanted Draco to go faster- He couldn't let this happen-
But oh GODS it felt good.
He threw his head back and groaned as Draco's touch grew heavier, his fingers digging into the Slytherin's shoulders. "D-don't.." he panted.
"Don't what?" Draco asked innocently. "Don't continue? Don't stop?" His breath tickled Harry's cheek. "Whatever you want," he whispered.
The door swung open.
"Shit-" Draco snarled, leaping clear of Harry and whirling to face the figure in the doorway. Harry collapsed bonelessly against the desk, his body trembling violently with shock and frustrated incompletion.
"Ah- sorry," the calm voice from the doorway said. "Am I interrupting something?" The tall figure stepped into the room, illuminated by the torchlight.
"P-Professor Dumbledore," Harry squeaked, forever grateful that the darkness of the room hid his rudely-interrupted eagerness. He glanced quickly towards Draco and had the sudden pleasure of seeing the normally stoic boy's face slowly flush as he stared dumbly at the headmaster.
"We've been wondering where you two were," Dumbledore continued as if nothing was wrong- though Harry suspected the old man had a pretty good idea of what had been going on. "As hard as it may be, I don't think it's a very good idea for the two of you to run away from the animosity in the Hall." His wise old eyes went from one boy to the other. "Sooner or later you're going to have to face them, and it's better to go along with it now than have them all come at you at once tomorrow, don't you think?"
Harry straightened, finally managing to get his body more under control. "But Professor Dumbledore," he protested, "they hate us."
"Don't be silly," Dumbledore sniffed. "They're just ignorant. Nothing is ever easy, dear boy. Matters of the heart," here he glanced at Draco, "most especially not."
Draco looked away.
"Come." The old man stepped aside to allow them to exit, extending an arm in invitation. "Your friends are worried about you."
Harry took a deep breath and nodded.
"What friends?" Draco muttered rebelliously. "I don't have any friends."
"You do now," Harry said firmly, and, grabbing the startled Slytherin by the arm, marched him back to face the waiting students.
Dumbledore watched them go, a kind smile creasing his face.
"Oh, dear." The cat at his feet morphed, revealing herself as Professor McGonnagal. Her face was embarrassed and more than a little red. She glanced reprovingly at the old man beside her. "Did you really have to wait that long before opening the door? They almost went a little too far, by the sounds of it."
"They needed to talk it out," Dumbledore said calmly.
"I'm not talking about the argument," McGonnagal said primly.
"Yes, well..." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I think they needed to get *that* out in the open between them as well."
McGonnagal stared at him, then suddenly gave in to helpless laughter. "Albus," she said fondly, "you're just as twisted as you were when we were students here."
"Of course, my dear," Albus said with another smile as he led the way to the Great Hall to support his two students. "By the way, you owe me ten pounds."
"It was a stupid bet anyway," McGonnagal muttered sourly, and handed over the money.
"This is a mistake," Draco growled, hands stuffed in his pockets as he glowered up at the imposing mansion.
"We might as well get it over with," Harry said, shrugging. "I'm sure your father's heard rumors by now, anyway."
"He probably doesn't believe them," Draco pointed out.
"Then we'll just have to make a believer out of him, won't we?" Harry said airily, entertwining his arm with Draco's. "Come on."
"I still don't see why you had to come," Draco protested meekly as Harry herded his lover towards the black double doors. "He's going to go into a fit of rage when he sees the infamous Harry Potter in his living room."
"He'll live," Harry said stubbornly, and knocked on the door. Draco hastily freed his arm.
The house elf who answered the door squinted up at them for an instant before he recognized his master. His face grew bleak as he took in the both of them. "This way, sir," he squeaked. "Your father's in the living room."
"Is he expecting me?" Draco demanded as he and Harry stepped into the front hall and deposited their bags by the door.
"No, sir," the elf said mournfully. "Not yet." He beckoned to them and waddled down the hall, muttering anxiously to himself, no doubt thinking of the beating he would recieve for letting Harry Potter himself into the Malfoy residence.
Draco took a deep breath and steeled himself. "Let's go," he muttered, and led Harry after the fat little elf.
Harry glanced around a little apprehensively as he walked, taking in the old fashioned and scant furniture in the hall and on of the rooms they passed. Everything looked old fashioned and strict- strange for a family who had bought their son the newest and best things to appear each year.
"My mother's sense of design," Draco said without looking back at him, as if reading his thoughts. "Some of the rooms upstairs are nothing like this- like mine."
"Oh." Harry hurried to catch up. Something about the house gave him the creeps. It was as if a million eyes were watching him with animosity.
The fat house elf cleared his throat nervously as they reached the living room. "Yida has brought the Master's son," he squeaked, waddling into the big room. "And.."
"A guest," Draco interrupted quickly.
Harry was too busy staring around the impressive room to pay much attention.
All the furniture was in tones of gray and black, and all of it matched. It was stiff and uncomfortable looking, and just as old-fashioned as the rest of the house. It looked like something from the 19th century- probably something that had been passed down in the family. There were framed pictures of scowling wizards and imposing castles on the wall, and the only cheerful source of light came from the enormous fireplace Lucius Malfoy was seated before.
The man turned slightly, not yet facing them, the arched back of his chair hiding them from his view. Harry could see the corner of a book being lowered. "Welcome back," Lucius said mildly. "Who is this guest you brought?"
"Someone important to me," Draco said carefully. Harry gulped and steeled himself.
Lucius stood and turned in one quick movement, a grin on his face. "Finally," he said triumphantly. "Let's see the future Malfoy, shall w-"
His voice came to an abrupt halt as his eyes fell on Harry. Then the color drained slowly from his face.
Harry stared up at him, frozen to the spot. "Hi," he managed to say meekly.
They stood facing each other down for several long, tense moments of silence across the room. Then Mrs. Malfoy strode in, looking regal and beautiful and cruel. "Draco," she purred, "why didn't you tell us we had comp-" Then she, too, recognized their guest, and gave something akin to a shriek of mingled fear and rage, her face twisting.
Harry stepped instinctively closer to Draco, feeling his face heat up at the dramatic reactions to his appearance. "Maybe you were right," he muttered. "Maybe I shouldn't have come."
"Glad you see it my way," Draco said with heavy sarcasm before turning flinty eyes on his father and drawing himself stiffly to his full height- which was actually only about a head shorter than his father. The house elf was trying unsuccessfully to hide behind his leg, looking terrified.
"H-Harry Potter and Master Draco to see you, s-sir," the elf squeaked, shaking like a leaf.
Lucius Malfoy's face was growing red with fury, his eyes narrowed into mean slits. Then suddenly he glanced towards his son and his face cleared into a thoughtful expression. The fleeting if unpleasant smile he flashed told Harry all he needed to know. Lucius was willing to believe Draco had tricked Harry into coming so that they could offer him on a platter to Voldemort.
If the same situation had presented itself six months ago, Harry would have begun to worry about Draco's true intentions. But by now he trusted the other boy- perhaps more than was healthy for him. He edged closer to Draco and refused to tear his eyes away from the imposing man before them.
Draco wasn't stupid; he, too, had realized what was going through his father's head, and his eyes grew very hard.
"Ah, Harry Potter," Lucius purred, turning a greedy, malicious look on the dark-haired boy. "What a surprise. So the rumors are true: you and my son have finally made amends. It's nice to see you two as friends at last." He flicked a quick look over Draco's head at his wife.
Mrs. Malfoy recovered quickly, walking around the boys to stand beside her husband, smiling silkily at them. "Welcome home, Draco," she said throatily. "Though I must admit you..surprised me for a moment. Who would have ever thought THE Harry Potter would ever stand in our humble living room?"
"Who indeed?" Lucius murmured, still smiling.
Harry's ears grew hot. "I'm not a celebrity," he wanted to shout, but bit back his words with difficulty. Draco, standing stiffly beside him, remained silent. Harry knew he was gauging his parents' reactions and waited uncomfortably for the confrontation he knew was coming.
"So, Harry," Lucius said brightly, watching him as a cat would a mouse, "finally grew tired of your silly little Gryffindor friends? It's nice to see you come to your senses. You've come to exactly the right place, my boy."
Draco flicked his lover a quick look, warning him to be careful with his words.
Harry cleared his throat. "Well," he said uncomfortably, "now that Draco and I are..friends, I thought I might as well meet his family properly."
"I see." Mr. Malfoy was nodding agreeably. "A pity we can't return the favor, of course," he said in tones dripping with mock sympathy.
It took all Harry had not to whip out his wand and send both Malfoys crashing through their own wall. Draco quickly intervened, seeing the dangerous light to the shorter boy's eye. "We were just wondering if you would like to bring him to Voldemort today or maybe next week." His tone was flat and hard as he stared at his father. "After all, that's the only use he is to anyone in this family, right?"
Mrs. Malfoy's eyes narrowed suspiciously at her son's tone, but her husband didn't pick up on the warning quickly enough. He smiled brightly at Harry, his eyes calculating. "Ah... So he wants to meet Him, does he? Good boy," he murmured. "Good boy." He extended his arm, face greedy. "Come along, then, Potter. I'm sure he's just *dying* to meet you."
"I don't think so, Father," Draco snapped, stepping in front of Harry. Harry retreated a foot or so, watching warily, his hand hovering near his wand. This could well be, he realized, the first time in a while that Draco had openly defied his father. Things were not going to be pretty.
Lucius stared at his son, arm still extended, though his mouth had tightened. "Move aside, Draco," he said in a voice like a whip. "You stay here with your mother."
"I didn't bring Harry here for you to cart him off to that moldy murderer like a gift basket," Draco snarled, fists tightening at his sides- perhaps to hide their trembling.
"Draco!" his mother gasped in shock.
"What waS that?" Lucius's voice was low and dangerous. The fingers on his outstretched hand curled like claws.
Draco swallowed and stood his ground, tilting his head defiantly. "You heard me. You're not taking Harry anywhere. I just came to confirm the rumors you've probably heard-" he flicked a look at his mother, "but probably dismissed."
"No," Mrs. Malfoy sputtered with a look of disgust. "You can't be serious!"
"I AM serious, Mother," he said hotly. "I'm sure you've heard from other students' parents... that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are the school fags.. that they sneak into the halls after class to find each other and at night--"
"ENOUGH!!" Lucius roared. "I won't hear this trash in my house!"
The fat house elf wailed in terror and dove underneath a chair. Harry quickly stepped up behind Draco, reaching out to clasp his shoulder encouragingly as his lover faltered. Draco straightened at the firm touch and glared at his father.
"I'll say what I like," he shot back. "It's my house too, old man." He jabbed a finger threateningly at Lucius as the man took a furious step towards him. "Don't you touch me, you ass," he growled, eyes narrowed with something akin to hatred. "Every professor at Hogwarts knows what you do to me and where I get my bruises- including Dumbledore himself. So if you want to die today, you just keep on walking this way."
Lucius froze at Dumbledore's name, his face twisted in fury. "You wouldn't dare," he spat.
"Wouldn't I?" Draco asked almost curiously, arching a brow in challenge. "Try me, Father."
"Draco," his mother said quietly, her eyes shooting from husband to son warily. "Don't be rash. Why don't you and Harry sit down and we can have a nice, long talk about all this..."
"No," Draco said quickly, shooting his mother a dark look. "We aren't going to-"
"Draco!" Harry shouted in warning as Lucius leapt for them, hands grabbing like hooked claws. Draco stumbled back, hand darting for the wand hidden in his robes, but he was a second too late. Lucius's hands latched onto the collar of his robe, and he gurgled in surprise.
"Now," Lucius snarled, "listen to me, you little..."
"Get your hands off him."
Lucius glanced up quickly at the wand hovering mere inches from his right eye. Harry stood behind Draco, holding onto his shoulder protectivelly with one hand and leveling his wand at Mr. Malfoy with the other, his back stiff and his eyes narrowed.
"Let go of him," Harry said slowly, and he had never heard his own voice sound so cold before. "Let him go or I'll make you wish you'd never heard the name Potter in your miserable life."
Lucius glanced quickly from the unwavering wand to Harry's set face before slowly releasing Draco's clothes and straightening. He took a step back, raising his hands in the air, eyes glued to the wand tip that moved upwards to follow him.
"Back off," Harry snapped. "More."
Lucius slowly backed away, hands still in the air as he glared at Harry with pure, undulated hatred. His wife stood stiffly by the couch, watching the scene with a frustrated, trapped look on her pretty face.
"Now listen up," Harry said shortly, inwardly surprised by the firmness of his own tone and the steadyness of his wand hand. "Draco's going to stay with me for the summer. Got it? He isn't interested in being part of your rotten Voldy Fanclub anymore, you understand?"
"How DARE you," Lucius sputtered, face black with rage.
"Stay still," Draco warned, glaring at him without any sign of compassion. "I'm sick of trailing after a doddering old half-dead fool who thinks he can rule the world by snuffing out every other wizard and muggle that slights him. You treat him like some kind of god. It's disgusting." He jutted his chin stubbornly. "How can I respect parents who serve a man interested only in power for himself?"
"You stupid little boy," his mother hissed, gripping the back of the couch tightly as she glared at him. "How dare you speak of Lord Voldemort like that. His reach is far, and he WILL find the one who betrayed him and went running to his enemy like a little whore-"
Something hot and angry in Harry snapped. "Don't you talk to him like that!" he shouted. Something in the air *rippled*, rolling off of him like an ocean wave and striking Mrs. Malfoy with the force of one. She shrieked as she was hurled across the room by an unseen force, smashing into a coffee table and shattering the delicate vase atop it. She collapsed in a heap with a little groan, moving her legs weakly. The house elf wailed in despair. Draco turned quickly to gape at Harry in disbelief. Harry, who didn't fully understand himself what had just happened, stared numbly at the woman's limp form.
Lucius had whirled to watch his wife crash, and turned slowly to stare at Harry with wide eyes, his mouth slack and his face white. "How-" he mouthed, though no sound came from his mouth.
Draco took one look at Harry's stunned, confused face and quickly shook off his own shock, seizing Harry by the elbow and steering him towards the door, ignoring his father.
"Draco," Lucius finally found his voice as the two boys reached the den door. Draco paused, reluctantly looking at the tall man over his shoulder.
Lucius was staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face. Then he seemed to partially compose himself, drawing himself up stiffly and looking upon his only son with a cold eye. "If you walk out that door with that boy," he warned quietly, "you can get yourself another name. You don't deserve to be a Malfoy. This is your last chance to redeem yourself, Draco."
Draco hesitated, looking from his father to his unconscious mother and then finally at the boy beside him. Harry was gazing up at him with an understanding look in his green eyes, as if saying he wouldn't blame Draco if he were to return to his family. He took a deep breath and turned one last time to gaze steadily at his father. "Goodbye," he said simply. Then he turned and led his lover away.
As Lucius stood numbly in the middle of his elaborate house, alone and weak-kneed, it dawned on him that he had just seen his son for the last time on even ground. Now that Draco had turned to Harry and abandoned Voldemort, there was going to be hell to pay for the young Malfoy if The Dark Wizard ever got his hands on him. But that wasn't all.
"You and I are enemies, now," Lucius said quietly to the air, gazing up at the ceiling with a flicker of regret deep inside. The mark on his arm throbbed suddenly and viciously, and he winced, clutching his arm in a futile attempt to muffle the pain. For one flashing moment he wondered if he had chosen the right side- if he should have offered his son his support rather than his back. Then the mark flared again, achingly, and he allowed a sick smile to touch his face as his wife stirred to wakefulness at the Dark touch.
"No," he murmured to himself, striding quickly towards the fireplace and snatching his floo powder from the mantle. "I will follow Lord Voldemort to the death... Even if it means abandoning you, my son."
Outside, Harry pulled Draco to a stop and took his trembling face in his hands, his eyes full of sympathy. The young man encircled his dark-haired lover in his arms, drawing the strength he needed from him, forcing himself to give a small smile.
No regrets, he thought to himself as he leaned down to capture sweet lips in a possessive kiss. I would take one Harry Potter over a thousand Voldemorts.
Against his lips, Harry smiled.
Please send all questions, comments, concerns, fanart, flames, death threats, bombs, jars of honey, and rants to firstname.lastname@example.org ^.^;;; hehe
Thanks to all those who took the time to read and review this weird attempt of a Harry Potter fanfic. ^_^ Your comments meant more to me than you know. Sometimes it's knowing that ppl like your stuff that makes you want to keep writing- I'm sure all of you fellow writers know what I mean.
Gah... *buries face in hands* With that kind of ending, looks like there's a tentative sequel in the future. Not sure, yet.
Arigato, glad you enjoyed the story! ^_~
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