I do not own any of these characters. They are J.K. Rowling's.
Also, this is slash, and that means male/male relationships. It is very very mild though, and there is no action, it's only thoughts. And they're not sexual thoughts. So, if that bothers you, then please don't flame me telling me that I'm sick. Actually, go ahead and flame me and tell me that I'm a disgusting pervert, I really get a kick out of them.
To the rest of the people out there who aren't judgmental, then please review, and only constructive criticism. Thanks a lot.
It Comes Slowly
He awoke in a sweat.
The dreams had returned.
They were wrong. He knew that. He knew it well.
It hurt him to feel this way, to have these thoughts about this person.
About this boy.
The very boy asleep in the bed next to his.
A light spring breeze came in through the open window and ruffled the dozing boy's hair, making him look much like a small boy.
Which he wasn't. Both of them were in their sixth year.
And he'd felt this way for a long time.
It had started as a fleeting hint of love. Sometimes when he talked to him, he glimpsed this flash of beauty, of pure, innocent magic. It progressed to a dull ache when he was near him, then to a gnawing ache, then a burning ache, and finally now he could hardly contain this gigantic, perfect ache inside of him.
When he was around him it felt as though he had swallowed liquid fire, the boy made him feel so warm and happy.
How he wished to crawl out of bed and tell the boy how he felt.
To utter the words to him. About his undying love, friendship, and loyalty.
But even if he could, it wouldn't matter. The love would never be returned.
This boy couldn't love him. Ever. The boy was destined for great things. Even if no one else could see it, he could.
And so once again he tried to sleep, but images of the boy swam to him. And in the dark quiet of the night, he smiled and felt waves of affection surge through him.
It could never be between them. He knew that, but sometimes it was hard to keep the persistent thoughts out of his mind.
So he kept ideas of them together alive in his head, and it made him feel a little better.
He closed his eyes tightly and tried very hard to sleep, but thoughts of the second task kept coming back to him.
What he would miss most. The boy silently breathing next to him.
A/N: Augh.
Also, this is slash, and that means male/male relationships. It is very very mild though, and there is no action, it's only thoughts. And they're not sexual thoughts. So, if that bothers you, then please don't flame me telling me that I'm sick. Actually, go ahead and flame me and tell me that I'm a disgusting pervert, I really get a kick out of them.
To the rest of the people out there who aren't judgmental, then please review, and only constructive criticism. Thanks a lot.
He awoke in a sweat.
The dreams had returned.
They were wrong. He knew that. He knew it well.
It hurt him to feel this way, to have these thoughts about this person.
About this boy.
The very boy asleep in the bed next to his.
A light spring breeze came in through the open window and ruffled the dozing boy's hair, making him look much like a small boy.
Which he wasn't. Both of them were in their sixth year.
And he'd felt this way for a long time.
It had started as a fleeting hint of love. Sometimes when he talked to him, he glimpsed this flash of beauty, of pure, innocent magic. It progressed to a dull ache when he was near him, then to a gnawing ache, then a burning ache, and finally now he could hardly contain this gigantic, perfect ache inside of him.
When he was around him it felt as though he had swallowed liquid fire, the boy made him feel so warm and happy.
How he wished to crawl out of bed and tell the boy how he felt.
To utter the words to him. About his undying love, friendship, and loyalty.
But even if he could, it wouldn't matter. The love would never be returned.
This boy couldn't love him. Ever. The boy was destined for great things. Even if no one else could see it, he could.
And so once again he tried to sleep, but images of the boy swam to him. And in the dark quiet of the night, he smiled and felt waves of affection surge through him.
It could never be between them. He knew that, but sometimes it was hard to keep the persistent thoughts out of his mind.
So he kept ideas of them together alive in his head, and it made him feel a little better.
He closed his eyes tightly and tried very hard to sleep, but thoughts of the second task kept coming back to him.
What he would miss most. The boy silently breathing next to him.
A/N: Augh.