DISCLAIMER: If Harry Potter was mine, it would be a collection of fluff. Therefore, Harry Potter belongs to J.K.Rowling.
WARNING: Er…It has male/male love implications…and it may get a bit angsty later on.
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"Probably full of Nargles."
"What are Nargles?" She asks, moving closer.
"No idea."
And with that, he kisses her.
She doesn't know what's happening. She's never been kissed like this before…it makes her think of Cedric. He had kissed her goodnight on the night of the Ball, a peck on the lips. What could it have been?
But no. She's kissing Harry now. Harry.
She's kissing him back, and she doesn't know if she's doing it right, and she can't help but close her eyes, because otherwise the tears might spill.
She loved Cedric…and she still does.
And now, she's actually falling in love with Harry Potter.
She doesn't know what to do or who to betray.
Kiss Harry now, or pull back?
But Cedric is dead, dead, dead, dead, and Harry saw him die…
Harry was there. Harry was right there, did he know what was going to happen? Did he try and save him?
They're still kissing.
His hands are on his waist, and he's warm, and its so nice, and she likes Harry, she really really does.
But her memory is thinking of Cedric, so brave and kind, and she's thinking of him watching her, disgust on his face.
She doesn't know what to think, and the tears are threatening to fall any moment, and Harry exhales a name into the kiss.
Draco.
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