a/n: To explain about the sequel bit: Marble Angel had reached it's natural ending. Any effort to continue that particular fic would've been strained and choppy. The storyline, however, still lives and that's what will continue in this fic.

Warnings: Cross generational slash, as in two guys with significant age differences getting physical and emotional. If that makes you feel all warm and queasy inside, please find a fic more to your liking. If you must flame, please say something helpful and intelligent.

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. They're Rowling's.

Thank you so much for your support of a pairing born out of desperation. Your kind words mean so much to me. Thank you PepperJackCandy, Fleur Rochard, Couscous Girl, coqui, Rubicon, Red Joker, minna, Anneclaire, Redhawk, IceFire, Moonbabe, angelstar, CaratGold, Mystica, Foxsong, moira, Goddess, Winged One, ostia, Midnight Reader, Minime, and Jivanna.

The point of view has changed. Harry is no longer our narrarator. We require a diferent set of eyes.

***

In five years I have learned that there are two ways of doing things: the way other people do things and how Harry does things. Other people are orphaned. harry's parents were killed by the darkest wizard ever. Other people don't get along with their families. Harry's family kept him in a closet for years. (H'm, the irony...) Other people play quidditch. Harry is the youngest house player in over a century.

I can accept the fact that he's gay. It happens. Way to go! Make it sound like some horrible thing. That's not what I meant. I meant that's just how things turn out. Like I have red hair. I didn't ask for it; I just have it. He can't help it. Besides, I knew that he was gay already. Mention girls around him and he freezes and gets this look on his face like you told him he was going to spend eternity with Snape. I don't care which sex he prefers as long as he's still my best friend. It's when you jump the species barrier that I have to intervene. Malfoys aren't human. They're citizens of the republic of hell.

It makes perfect sense that Harry would fall for Lucius Malfoy. really it does. he's everything Harry's not. He's old. Not ancient, 'where are my teeth?' kind of old, but he's still too old for Harry. His son is our age for Christ's sake! And he's evil. Anybody who would even consider getting the dark mark has some serious darkness inside. That kind of stuff doesn't just vanish. I would be absolutely ecstatic that Harry had found someone to care about and finally got shagged. I wouldn't even mind vague details. Wait. Is that possible? No...I don't think it is. I wouldn't mind if he felt like sharing up to a certain point. But why, of all the people on this godforsaken planet, did he have to choose Lucius Malfoy?!!!

Breathe. Calm down, Weasley. Think calming, supportive thoughts. It's okay. this is probably a phase. It will pass. Better yet, maybe this is a dream. You'll wake up and laugh at the very idea of your best friend screwing Malfoy's father...Ew! Badbadbad mental picture. Okay, I deserved that. Serves me right for having an unsupportive moment. Ah, speak of the devil!

Harry slunk into the room. He looked drained. "Well?" I asked softly. He looked up tiredly.
"Lucius is alive. He's disguised as Lupin."
"Is that where you were last night?" He nodded glumly.
"Then what's that look for?"
"What look?"
"The sad, kicked-puppy look."
"I don't look like a puppy! And I'm not sad. This is me being happy."
"That look doesn't say happy. It says 'shoot me and put me out of my misery'."
"Then do it."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Shoot me."
"I take it things didn't go well."
"Things went fabulous. I confronted him. We kissed. We shagged." It's amazing how fragile he looks. There something so delicate about him.
"So what's the problem?"
"we're done."
"Done?"
"Done. Finished. Terminated. dead." Dead. interesting choice of words. I wonder if this has indeed killed him.

"Tell me about it?" I asked. I'm not sure I want to know, but if he doesn't tell me, he'll just bottle it up like he does everything else. He thinks that I don't know that there are moments when he feels absolutely desolate, but I know all too well. He shook his head. I patted a spot next to me on my bed. Reluctantly he came over. I gave him a quick hug. He looked shocked.
"What was that for?"
"Today will be a long day."
"The longest day of the year," he sighed.

***
So...how's that for a beginning? Review!

love,
J. Silver