I want you

Lying was easy. It didn’t take much effort. It didn’t take much thinking. All you have to do is drop yourself on top of a bed and stare numbly at the ceiling. Everyone can do it.

But for Harry Potter, age eighteen, lying on his bed was hard. Partly because he was alone in a house isolated from society but mostly because the pain was too much to bear. He was alone. In his room, in his house. In the world.

His thoughts strayed to his eventful seventh year at Hogwarts. He remembered it was filled with laughter, tears, love and pain. That year, Voldermort was defeated for real. He reflected on how for half of his school year, he ran around the country searching and destroying the remaining horcruxes. He went alone, too afraid of the dangers he might be exposing his best friends to if they followed. The other half was spent training those able-bodied wizards and witches in training that are willing to fight.

He remembered the number of teens that came back to Hogwarts that year. Everyone, he proudly noted, from Gryffindorr, fourth year and above, came back. Almost everyone who was from the DA came back except for Marietta Edgecomb and Cho Chang. A handful of brave, or maybe foolish, Slytherins dared to come back including Draco. All charges against Malfoy for the assistance in Dumbledore’s murder was dropped due to the fact that, at the time of the hearing, he was still a minor.

His memories roamed to his two best friends, Ronald Weasley and Hermoine Granger. He could clearly picture every minute he spent around them. Every laughter he took, every tear he shed. He easily heard Ron’s voice in his ear from Christmas break.

“ Really Harry, I could count on one hand how many nights you sleep last term,” if only he knew why.

Harry like, many others on that dangerous period, spent countless of nights worrying about the safety of the wizarding community. Several times, however, his mind had went on to different aspects of the whole scenario. The more human and physical feature. One of a boy named Draco Malfoy.

Harry’s sexuality was controversial, at the least. He has been yearning, lusting, for that blond-haired boy for over a year now. He remembered his confusion when, at the end of his sixth year, he felt a pang of sympathy for that man. Throughout the whole summer, Harry was at loss at his feelings.

Back at Hogwarts, his throat seem to catch everytime Malfoy was nearby. His eyes fogged over and wet dreams happened over every night. Malfoy was too irresistible.

About halfway through Christmas, he remembered cornering Malfoy. As his lips smashed into the other man, his saw those steel gray eyes widen, first in shock then in pleasure. Pushing the usually obnoxious man into a random classroom, he heard Malfoy moaned which made him hard.

The deed was sealed. Right before coming, Harry distinctly heard Malfoy mutter three words that made him gasp.

I want you.

From then on, nothing could face The Boy Who Lived.

Until the epic battle.

There he saw those he loved, fall to the ground. Dead. There he heard Hermione scream before getting hit by the Killing Curse. He heard Ron’s anguished cries and Ginny’s falling body all at the same time. Far of to his left, McGonagall fell to the floor, writhing in pain. Such horrors he couldn’t bear watch. Of to his far right, he witnessed Malfoy single-handedly defend himself from four Death Eaters at one time. He felt warm inside and fought with new power.

Two months after the battle and the wizarding community was still picking up the pieces. Harry seemed to have vanish of the face of Earth. He was, in fact, living in his old house at Godric’s Hollow. It was still unplottable and hidden but this time, the Secret Keeper was not Sirius or Ron. It was

“ Harry babe, I’m home!” Draco called out from the living room. Harry smirked and went out in nothing but boxers.

“ Hey there Malfoy. I was waiting,” he moaned out seductively before kissing his lover.

“ I love you,” both uttered late that night. So irresistible.