That first encounter in the train, the red hair which got muddled when he jumped wild up and down in the crowd, those big, blue eyes full with sparkling bearns of humour. The little boy that turned in a clumsy boy who sometimes turned just as red as his freckles till the tops of his ears. The youngster who changed in a grownup man with shoulders as wide as his smile. The man who was his friend. Or still is, what was it really?
Oh, was everything just as that first encouter full of innocence and curiosity. Well, the curiosity never went away. Then they didn't know what was waiting for them, that big, scary world full of danger. What was life light. Their only worry existed from their mean (later not so mean) teacher Potions, their prevailing classmate and sometimes a little conflict.
That one, big fight, oh, it really was hell. He had never felt zo alone. Everytime he saw a flash of red, because his former friend turned, every time when those eyes tried to ignore him, the desire in his heart grown. And it didn't stop. It kept going, even when the fight already was reconciled.
The colour red got a new meaning. A unlimited desire to something certain unreachable.
The fray, the oh so bitter fray. They fought, side to side, but it was no use. Blood cleared a way through the red hairs. He scratched his throath, scratched his last words together.
'Harry, I always felt more for you.'
The lights in his eyes extinguished. Extinguished forever. And Harry stayed behind with the dead of the love that couldn't be.