I am the son and the heir
Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar
I'm the son and heir
Of nothing in particular

He stood in the circular, shiny office of the one man that just might have given a shit about the mediocre life he had been living. Of course he would never complain. No one saw past his the scrawny limbs and disheveled appearance. The ideology that he was a meek person was perpetuated by his continual silence in the muggle classrooms. Attention is bad. He was trying to pass through life as an invisible form. Unseen. Imperceptible. Nothing. When he turned 11 he had no way of knowing what awaited him in the world he was meant to be born into.

Harry swiveled around as a hand descended upon his shoulder. Staring him in the eyes was an equally disheveled and dirty 17 year old. The lips were parted and a flush bloomed across the too-pale face framed by the too-pale hair. It would have been sensual if not for the previous events of the evening.

"Did you really have to do it this way, Potter?"


You shut your mouth, how can you say
I go about things the wrong way
I am human and I need to be loved
Just like everybody else does

Harry looked down at the blood on his hands. It wasn't there.

But it was.

He hadn't noticed but he was shaking uncontrollably.

"Fuck you."

Was there anything more to be said?

"I know you don't mean that right now. All I meant was–"

"I just wanted to have a normal life. The kind where I can love and be loved. The kind where this shit doesn't happen. The kind where the people who were supposed to be there for me are there!" Harry's face flushed at the end of his tirade. The blonde stepped closer to him, lips still parted.

I am the son and the heir
Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar
I'm the son and heir
Of nothing in particular

Harry backed away, not sure if he was entirely willing to stand so close to his child hood enemy. This was the boy who had tormented. No, now he was the man who lusted for the hero who had completed his purpose.

"You know I want you, Harry. Why do you have to play the shy boy?"

You shut your mouth, how can you say
I go about things the wrong way
I am human and I need to be loved
Just like everybody else does

Harry stepped back even further, his back scratching against the edge of an empty wooden frame.

"Not here, Malfoy."

"I know where we can go." Draco tried to grab Harry's shaking hand.


There's a club, if you'd like to go
You could meet someone who really loves you
So you go, and you stand on your own and you leave on your own
And you go home, and you cry and you want to die

He snatched it back. "I've been there. When you said you would be, but you weren't."

"I'm here now, I'll go with you."

Harry's eyes turned said as he thought about how much he wanted to be with the boy standing so close to him. He shook his head.

When you say it's gonna happen "now"
When exactly do you mean?
See, I've already waited too long
And all my hope is gone

"When it's on your time, your terms, Draco?"

"I thought you wanted to."

"I did once. But I can't trust you, and if I can't trust you, then I can't be with you."

Draco looked affronted. "Bollocks, I have had your back in battle more times than I can count! How is that not trust?"

"Trust is when you'll always be there. Not just when you have an itch you need to scratch."

"I stood you up once, but here I am. Take me." Draco's fierce eyes sliced through Harry's emerald gaze.

"Not today, Draco."

Someday
Not one in particular

Someday

Harry prowled toward the seated man in his living room. The blonde had no way of suspecting impending attack, though he had anticipated its eventuality. Footsteps fell softly on a padded carpet until Harry was directly in front of the seated man. He had a ferocious look in his eyes. Years of hurt and anger and resentment filled him almost to bursting. But he did not strike with violence. He leaned down bracing his hands on Draco's knees.

"I thought you would never come around, Potter."

"Shut up, Draco."

Impossibly blue eyes met impossibly green eyes with a penetrating curiosity. Slowly Draco stood up to match Harry's height. Looking straight at him he curled his hand around the nape of the brunette's neck and took a step closer.

Their bodies were touching.

It had been two years since the final battle and their lean bodies were finally pressed against each other the way they were meant to from the moment they first met.

Harry leaned in as Draco matched his movements and the final gap was closed. Draco's icy lips instantly melted on contact with the scorching skin of Harry's lips. There was no tentativeness, only a trying desperation in one kiss as the two men urgently attempted to make up for years of not touching, of not being one.

Their first kiss, it was only 9 years late, but on an unparticular day it finally happened. Between an heir to death and an heir of death.