Every minute I live, I still wonder if I made the right decision. I still remember all the details of the years before. The intense visions are still as crystal clear in my mind as if I had lived it only yesterday. Of course, that isn't uncommon for my undead family.

I still can feel his touch stroking my body, the sensation of his breath on my neck, our bodies roughly entangled on the moist Earth. "Draco, I don't feel like wrestling right now, I'm trying to garden here!" He was always a distraction, but a beautiful one. Not that I had any complaints about his type of behavior. His hand reached out and began to grope my shovel, but seductively he crept his claw down to my buttocks, eliciting a moan of pleasure. "Harry, was that what I think it was?" To be honest I had some dirt stuck in my throat but Draco didn't need to know that. He didn't wait for my answer, but roughened his actions. His hand lowered even more and I distractedly yelped in pain or pleasure. As he molested by inner thigh, I opened my mouth to object, but was overcome with a completely new form of satisfaction that my virgin body has never felt before.

Of course this was a game Draco persistently played with me called, "Homo-chicken", where the person who was the most homosexual without flinching wins. I always lost, whether because it actually disgusted me or I want to convince myself it did, I wasn't sure. Today, I was going to push my limits; I needed to know the truth. I hesitated at first, but I couldn't bring myself as his fingers tugged at my waistband begging for more. It was my turn, but as I drew my hand up towards his face, I saw his fangs for the first time.

I flinched. "Va-Vampi-" I was abruptly cut off by his lips crashing into mine. Our tongues intertwined, the flavor of passion choked me, the scent of fervor suffocated me, and sent waves of tingling pleasure through my body. Out of fear, I pulled away, but the second I did, Draco aggressively hissed in my ear, "You lose". Instead of leaving each other as we usually did afterward, he began kissing me again: this wasn't a game anymore. I groaned softly as his lips left mine, trailing down my neck. He paused at my collarbone, and eyed the minor setback, otherwise known as my shirt; his experienced hands aggressively tore the blouse from my chest, exposing my previously untouched torso. Good God, that man was beautiful.

"Uh-oh, where did my pants go?" Of course, when I looked up I found them haughtily dangling from his mouth. I blushed because I've never been so naked before, emotionally or physically. It was then that it occurred to me that Draco was still fully clothed. He saw me eyeing his belt buckle, "You can if you want to, and we both know you do." I gasped at his sudden forwardness and moved to undo the pesky thing. My fingers clumsily undid the buckle, but Draco assisted. But I stopped him, "I'm seventeen years old Draco. . .I can do it myself." Draco became so aroused that his pants burst from the pressure from forth his fatal loins. The pants were off and we fucked. YAY! And they partied hard the rest of the night with ass-flavored Tequila and a bottle of banana milk.