Disclaimer: Not mine, J.K. Rowling's and all the publishing and film people
and merchandising people's Also: The Grinch belongs to Dr. Seuss
Warning: Is slash - Harry/Draco *note: Ratings might go up in later chapters
What Happened, Happened.
Harry woke up with the sun in his eyes, and panicked for a moment before he realized it was, indeed, Saturday and he had no classes to attend to. He relaxed, let out a luxurious yawn, and snuggled back underneath the covers. Harry loved these moments between awake and dreaming, where his mind would drift off in a pleasant haziness that filled his mind with contentment.
Harry Potter, countless times savior of the wizarding world, is now 21 years of age and living in a flat in muggle London. He escaped with all the reasons one would expect of him doing so, being tired of the tormented reminders of war and the price of fame. Harry had of course stood his ground until the war was over, the final confrontation being what everyone expected - the dark lord, the Boy-Who-Lived, and countless corpse littered in the battleground around them, already giving off the smell of rotten flesh decaying. And of course, in a brilliant flash of green light, the dark lord was finally vanquished - because good always, always triumphs over evil, and no one should forget that - not even all mighty Dark Lords who find amusement in rearranging the letters of their names to sound more sinister.
After the war, while everyone grieved for their lost ones, Harry felt lost. Even worse, he felt nothing, absolutely no emotions for those who had died, sacrificing their lives in a many a meaningless battles. Death had ceased to affect him after the numbers of cadavers increased, Cedric was a shock to his system, Ginny caused him to break down in tears, having saved the girl once from the wrath of Tom Marvolo Riddle, only to lose her in the end to Lord Voldemort. The death of Sirius left a dull ache in his heart that never went away, a reminder that even the Boy-Who-Lived was powerless to save those who loved him best.
Ron and Hermoine had thankfully survived, and are now contemplating buying a house in the wizarding world and starting a family. With all the numbers lost during the war, the Ministry had advised all those capable to try their hand at increasing the wizard population. The former Gryffindor trio still have binds that held strong, but Harry couldn't help feeling left out and excluded from the exquisite love that existed between his two best friends.
Harry sometimes felt like he could relate all too well to the Grinch. His heart was aching because it was two sizes too small, and he wondered if he would ever meet someone who could make his heart grow - swell with love. He considered himself too old to believe in fairytales, and true love was just that, a fairytale. But Harry couldn't help but wish for a dashingly handsome bloke to come along and sweep him off his feet, ride with him off to the sunset and live happily ever after in a kingdom on the edge of the sky. Yes, that's correct, a bloke. Harry had discovered that he was more inclined to swing the other way after his crush on Cho Chang had faded, paving the way for more glorious feelings to blossom when contemplating of other males.
Like every hormonal teenage male, there was a time in Harry's life when he was plagued by crushes. Newly discovered feelings were running wild, seeking every good-looking male on the grounds of Hogwarts, limitless of age and circumstances. Heck, he'd even had a stint ogling Snape's arse! Ron and Hermoine had quickly caught on to Harry's tendencies to swing the other way, and neither minded. After all, Hermoine considered herself a liberated woman and Ron has had Percy to deal with - who had dumped Penelope and shacked up with Oliver the moment they had graduated.
But Harry's preferences were a well-kept secret to the rest of the school, locked up securely behind the portrait of the Pink Lady. After all, there are things that the public needn't to hear about - though the wizarding world was more accepting of homosexuals than their muggle counterparts, this news would still have Rita Skeeter reeling in her tacky pink high heels. And Harry, ever the modest boy, was never one for scandal - he preferred his privacy, thank you very much.
Regardless, all the Gryffindors had tried their hand at hooking Harry up with an acceptable match. Seamus, of course, was the first option that many considered. Harry, had of course thought Seamus to be cute, but never progressed beyond his feelings of friendship where the other was concerned. The hyperactive Irish redhead was just not his type.
By sixth year, Harry had finally fallen, and fallen hard. Unfortunately, Harry had lost his heart to the one guy that no one had expected. Not even in Harry's wildest dreams, (and some of them were pretty wild) could he imagine that his crush would ever return his feelings, so he locked these feelings up securely, in his heart, and it became the first secret he had ever kept from his two best friends. But by then, Ron and Hermoine were already dating, and an invisible barrier was slowly growing between Harry and his best friends.
Harry had hoped for these feelings to disintegrate, and go away, but instead they grew and eroded the chamber where he had kept them hidden. He had finally confided in his best friends, and to his surprise, Ron and Hermoine had already figured it out, and wondering when they should inform poor Harry that he was, indeed, in love with Draco Malfoy. Apparently Harry was less apt at keeping secrets than he had thought, but Ron and Hermoine reassured him it was just because they knew him so well. But Harry had his doubts - were his feelings really that transparent? Did Draco - Malfoy - know?
Harry, being the brave and courageous boy that he was, decided that if Draco didn't know, he would have to inform him. The date he set for this confession was graduation day. Unfortunately, hours before he was about to tell the other, Voldemort just had to ruin his day and strike. The first battleground in the impending war was Hogwarts, and many enough innocent were killed to declare the battle a victory for Voldemort.
What followed was a series of nightmarish battles, more harsh and devastating than the first, and the numbers killed had rapidly arisen. What was more devastating, at least for Harry's poor heart, was the fact that he had never seen Malfoy again. He couldn't help but wonder what had happened to the blond; was he a death eater now, like he had threatened all these years? Or was he one of the innocent killed in the battle, a body so badly mangled that he was beyond recognition?
Harry couldn't help but wonder, just as he couldn't help feeling relieved when, at the end of the war, Malfoy wasn't on the list of Death Eaters rounded up for Azkaban. Lucius was long dead by then, and Narcissa had vanished, leaving Harry frustrated as to what had happened to the one guy who had captured his heart, and still holds it in his hands.
Warning: Is slash - Harry/Draco *note: Ratings might go up in later chapters
What Happened, Happened.
Harry woke up with the sun in his eyes, and panicked for a moment before he realized it was, indeed, Saturday and he had no classes to attend to. He relaxed, let out a luxurious yawn, and snuggled back underneath the covers. Harry loved these moments between awake and dreaming, where his mind would drift off in a pleasant haziness that filled his mind with contentment.
Harry Potter, countless times savior of the wizarding world, is now 21 years of age and living in a flat in muggle London. He escaped with all the reasons one would expect of him doing so, being tired of the tormented reminders of war and the price of fame. Harry had of course stood his ground until the war was over, the final confrontation being what everyone expected - the dark lord, the Boy-Who-Lived, and countless corpse littered in the battleground around them, already giving off the smell of rotten flesh decaying. And of course, in a brilliant flash of green light, the dark lord was finally vanquished - because good always, always triumphs over evil, and no one should forget that - not even all mighty Dark Lords who find amusement in rearranging the letters of their names to sound more sinister.
After the war, while everyone grieved for their lost ones, Harry felt lost. Even worse, he felt nothing, absolutely no emotions for those who had died, sacrificing their lives in a many a meaningless battles. Death had ceased to affect him after the numbers of cadavers increased, Cedric was a shock to his system, Ginny caused him to break down in tears, having saved the girl once from the wrath of Tom Marvolo Riddle, only to lose her in the end to Lord Voldemort. The death of Sirius left a dull ache in his heart that never went away, a reminder that even the Boy-Who-Lived was powerless to save those who loved him best.
Ron and Hermoine had thankfully survived, and are now contemplating buying a house in the wizarding world and starting a family. With all the numbers lost during the war, the Ministry had advised all those capable to try their hand at increasing the wizard population. The former Gryffindor trio still have binds that held strong, but Harry couldn't help feeling left out and excluded from the exquisite love that existed between his two best friends.
Harry sometimes felt like he could relate all too well to the Grinch. His heart was aching because it was two sizes too small, and he wondered if he would ever meet someone who could make his heart grow - swell with love. He considered himself too old to believe in fairytales, and true love was just that, a fairytale. But Harry couldn't help but wish for a dashingly handsome bloke to come along and sweep him off his feet, ride with him off to the sunset and live happily ever after in a kingdom on the edge of the sky. Yes, that's correct, a bloke. Harry had discovered that he was more inclined to swing the other way after his crush on Cho Chang had faded, paving the way for more glorious feelings to blossom when contemplating of other males.
Like every hormonal teenage male, there was a time in Harry's life when he was plagued by crushes. Newly discovered feelings were running wild, seeking every good-looking male on the grounds of Hogwarts, limitless of age and circumstances. Heck, he'd even had a stint ogling Snape's arse! Ron and Hermoine had quickly caught on to Harry's tendencies to swing the other way, and neither minded. After all, Hermoine considered herself a liberated woman and Ron has had Percy to deal with - who had dumped Penelope and shacked up with Oliver the moment they had graduated.
But Harry's preferences were a well-kept secret to the rest of the school, locked up securely behind the portrait of the Pink Lady. After all, there are things that the public needn't to hear about - though the wizarding world was more accepting of homosexuals than their muggle counterparts, this news would still have Rita Skeeter reeling in her tacky pink high heels. And Harry, ever the modest boy, was never one for scandal - he preferred his privacy, thank you very much.
Regardless, all the Gryffindors had tried their hand at hooking Harry up with an acceptable match. Seamus, of course, was the first option that many considered. Harry, had of course thought Seamus to be cute, but never progressed beyond his feelings of friendship where the other was concerned. The hyperactive Irish redhead was just not his type.
By sixth year, Harry had finally fallen, and fallen hard. Unfortunately, Harry had lost his heart to the one guy that no one had expected. Not even in Harry's wildest dreams, (and some of them were pretty wild) could he imagine that his crush would ever return his feelings, so he locked these feelings up securely, in his heart, and it became the first secret he had ever kept from his two best friends. But by then, Ron and Hermoine were already dating, and an invisible barrier was slowly growing between Harry and his best friends.
Harry had hoped for these feelings to disintegrate, and go away, but instead they grew and eroded the chamber where he had kept them hidden. He had finally confided in his best friends, and to his surprise, Ron and Hermoine had already figured it out, and wondering when they should inform poor Harry that he was, indeed, in love with Draco Malfoy. Apparently Harry was less apt at keeping secrets than he had thought, but Ron and Hermoine reassured him it was just because they knew him so well. But Harry had his doubts - were his feelings really that transparent? Did Draco - Malfoy - know?
Harry, being the brave and courageous boy that he was, decided that if Draco didn't know, he would have to inform him. The date he set for this confession was graduation day. Unfortunately, hours before he was about to tell the other, Voldemort just had to ruin his day and strike. The first battleground in the impending war was Hogwarts, and many enough innocent were killed to declare the battle a victory for Voldemort.
What followed was a series of nightmarish battles, more harsh and devastating than the first, and the numbers killed had rapidly arisen. What was more devastating, at least for Harry's poor heart, was the fact that he had never seen Malfoy again. He couldn't help but wonder what had happened to the blond; was he a death eater now, like he had threatened all these years? Or was he one of the innocent killed in the battle, a body so badly mangled that he was beyond recognition?
Harry couldn't help but wonder, just as he couldn't help feeling relieved when, at the end of the war, Malfoy wasn't on the list of Death Eaters rounded up for Azkaban. Lucius was long dead by then, and Narcissa had vanished, leaving Harry frustrated as to what had happened to the one guy who had captured his heart, and still holds it in his hands.