Aimée
I'm only twenty years old and have just barely begun to live. To me, however, twenty years is the beginning and end of forever; it's all I've ever known. My first year was spent with James Potter and my Mum, living in fear of Lord Voldemort. Throw in a few twists and the next ten years of my life are spent with Severus Snape and my Mum, as a real family. She bore seven half-siblings for our family, and in my opinion, those ten years couldn't have been better.
The next seven years – the Hogwarts Years – were ones I'll never forget, as long as I live. I made my three best friends then: Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and later, Draco Malfoy. It was during those years that I started to discover who I am, who I was, and who I was destined to become.
I'm Harry James Potter Snape, also known as Harry Potter; my siblings aren't aware of this. They grew up knowing my name, knowing my story, but never truly knowing me. They do now.
I was Harry Potter – the Boy Who Lived. God, how I hate that nickname… I'm famous for something that I can't remember doing, famous for something my Mum came up with; Give her the credit, for it's because of her spell that I'm still alive, that Voldemort is dead and has been for the past nineteen years.
At one point in my life, I thought I knew what my destiny was; marry the woman of my dreams, work for the Ministry or perhaps play Quidditch for England, and have as many children running around the house as my parents did. I'm happy to say, only one out of those four predictions came true; I'm the Seeker for the British international Quidditch Team, something I've dreamed of ever since I played my first game of Quidditch. I'm with the man I hated for four years, loved for an equal amount of time, and I couldn't be happier. As for the many children running around… Even though we live in a world of magic, as far as I know, having children isn't an option for two men.
Draco set the parchment down as he let out a howl of laughter. "You just had to put that in there, didn't you?"
I looked up at him innocently enough; "What ever do you mean?"
Draco smirked and crossed his arms as he leaned back against the wall of our apartment. "You know damn well what I mean, Harry."
I nodded slightly, a smile spreading across my lips. "You mean the children thing? We could adopt, you know."
Draco made a face after I suggested this. "Kids? Us? Harry, we're twenty and can barely keep up with ourselves, let alone a child."
"Not now," I stood up out of my chair and walked over to the white island in the middle of the dining room and kitchen area, then opened the refrigerator. "Good Lord, not now… In fifteen years, perhaps, but… No. Not now."
Draco shook his head slightly then walked over to where I stood, grabbing a mug on the way. Reaching over my shoulder, he took a cartoon of orange juice off of the shelf. "Are we going tonight?"
"Going where?" I asked, knowing damn well where. It was the same place he asked me to go to at least five times a week; only twice had I given in. Finally giving up on me, he had started going himself only last year.
"The club, you prat." He gave me a look before hoisting himself up on one of the wooden stools surrounding the island, then taking a drink from his mug.
"You know the answer." I said, purposely avoiding his hawk-like gaze. "I hate dancing."
"Harry!" he exclaimed, shaking his head vigorously. "You know dancing isn't the only thing that goes on there."
"Besides the drinking, the drugs, and the women?" I asked, raising my eyebrows slightly. "I would have never guessed."
"Stop it," He snapped slightly, "You're starting to sound like me."
I smirked, leaning over the edge of the island and
starring at him. "That isn't necessarily a bad thing, Draco."
"Coming from you it is." He mimicked my expression,
gray eyes crashing into green. "Besides, the guys are fairly easy on the
eyes as well."
The Loft – a famous London club – was known for being a sanction for both gay and straight couples alike. It was fairly unique; aquariums lined the walls on the bottom floor, housing different types of fish and exotic underwater plants. There were three levels of dance floor, each housing it's own theme. The second level had all sorts of different lights, including strobe and multi-coloured ones. The third was decorated with all kinds of couches and beads, giving it a rather 60's motif.
"I know, Draco." I sighed heavily. "I've been there before."
"Come on…" he gave me a terribly out-of-character pleading look. "It won't hurt. I'll buy you all the drinks you want and you won't remember a thing tomorrow morning."
"And what if I wake up next to some ugly bloke with a horrendous moustache?" I gave him a slightly patronizing look, and then turned back to the piece of toast I was nibbling on.
"I won't let you." Draco grinned sinisterly, "Because you'll be mine."
I gave him a searching look for a moment, the image of him pleading with me emblazoned in the back of my mind. Sighing once more, I rolled my eyes and nodded.
"Fine then." I said firmly, "But I swear to you, if I wake up in a bed that isn't familiar – I don't care if the most beautiful human alive is next to me, I will personally make sure you will never be able to fuck again."
Draco looked at me, slightly abashed. "But – you ALREADY wake up next to the most beautiful and perfect human alive!"
I snorted into my toast, "Besides you, of course."
He scowled and crossed his arms loosely, leaning back in his stool as much as gravity allowed. "I can't believe you said that."
I looked up at him, cocking my head slightly. "What, 'besides you, of course'?"
He scowled deeper, "No, that you didn't even think of me when you said the most beautiful human alive."
I smirked, then rolled my eyes. "So sorry, Draco. They say you take things for granted when they're right under your nose."
"Uh huh," His scowl was now replaced with a look of deep injustice. "You'd better say that."
I shook my head and grinned, refusing to reply. Standing up, I turned around and set my glass in the sink, then walked back down the hall to our room. I had woken up fairly early – 8 AM – after only five hours of sleep to write part of the next chapter of my autobiography. Two hours later, I was still clad in only my emerald terrycloth robe and boxers and walking around barefoot. In our apartment, walking around with no shoes on was considered a death wish.
Not bothering to close the door, I threw off my robe and grabbed the pair of jeans I had been wearing the day before and pulled the on. Opening the dresser drawers, I grabbed a deep red shirt and sniffed it. I wrinkled my nose as the smell of sweat and deodorant came in contact with my nostrils, and then threw the shirt down onto the floor.
Silently cursing Draco for putting the dirty garment into the dresser, I grabbed a black shirt with the words 'Your Village Called; Their Idiot Is Missing' written on the front in gold. After I had pulled it over my head, I made my way back out into the living room where Draco was.
He was sitting on one of the black leather couches, propped up by one of the many pillows strewn across the apartment. He had a thing for pillows, especially the feather kind, and I allowed him to indulge as much as he wanted as long as none of them made their way into my study.
He nodded in my direction, his eyes glued to the fireplace. I turned towards it, jumping slightly when I saw Remus Lupin's head in it.
"Good morning, Harry." His smile was tight, but he still managed a courteous greeting. He and my mother hadn't talked in nearly six years, as both were still regretting their one night – afternoon, even – indulgence in each other.
"'Morning, Professor." I grinned over at him. He hadn't been a professor for nearly seven years now, but I still insisted on calling him so, as he had taught me in Defense Against the Dark Arts for my first four years at Hogwarts.
"What did you want to talk to me about, Dad?" Draco asked suddenly, scooting over slightly as I made my way over to the couch where he was sitting. I plopped down next to him and closed my eyes for a moment, listening to Remus' voice over the crackling of the fire.
"Your Mother," Remus answered Draco, "She hasn't been herself lately and I'm concerned. She hasn't said anything to you, has she?"
Draco shook his head slightly, blonde hair falling into his eyes. "No, she hasn't. What's wrong with her?"
Remus sighed, his tired amber eyes glancing over at me in a rather suspicious manner. "She's kept herself separate from both Micah and myself for almost a week now. She comes to bed after she believes me to be asleep and wakes up well before dawn, only to leave once more."
Micah Lupin was Remus' and Narcissa's five year old daughter. She was a year younger than Castor and Pollux, and I was sure she had never met them.
Draco's expression turned to one of curiosity. "That's… strange, to say the least. I could talk to her if you want, try to figure out what's bothering her."
Remus smiled slightly, and I noticed a slight ring of blue encircling the amber in his irises. Mentally calculating the days from the last Full Moon, I concluded that the New Moon had been yesterday; Werewolves' eyes were their true colour only where there was no moon present in the sky. Otherwise, they were coloured amber to match the wolf's eyes.
"Have you tried talking to her?"
I couldn't help myself; I had to ask. Remus gave me a slightly startled look, as one of the rules of our apartment that, besides the usual greetings, you weren't supposed to butt in on the other's conversation with their parent or sibling. This, of course, put in place to ease our parents' pain of their situation. Our logic had been that if my Mum didn't have to talk to Draco and Remus didn't have to talk to me, there would be less of a reminder for them to deal with. Mum already had two running around.
"Yes," Remus answered quietly, "Yes, I have. She avoids me."
I nodded quickly, avoiding Draco's curious gaze. "I'm sorry."
"It's ok." Remus said, his tone gentle. "Draco – Harry – I'm sorry as well, to drag you two into this, but please, if she tells you anything…"
I could hear Draco's breath quicken slightly and I could almost hear his thoughts; The thought of losing his mother, no matter how small the distance, was too much for him to bear after losing Lucius. I didn't blame him; when my mother died giving birth to my twin brothers, I had fainted. Albeit, she hadn't truly died; she had been pronounced clinically dead, but somehow Dad had managed to revive her. After long hours in the library, researching different Muggle methods of revival, I had finally discovered what had brought her back; Dad had pounded on her chest, right over her heart, hard enough to jump start it once more. It had saved her life.
"We'll be sure to inform you of anything, Dad." Draco said quietly, smiling goodbye. A moment later, Remus' head had vanished from the fireplace and Draco had collapsed back onto the couch, eyes squeezed shut.
"Why can't she just take care of herself for one?" he asked, shaking his head slightly. "Even when I was a child, she never did take care of herself. Always reckless, even more so that I had been."
"She'll be fine," I said soothingly, reaching over to push a lock of stray blonde hair back from his face. "She loves you too much to hurt you on purpose."
Draco shook his head once again, "I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you, Harry."
I didn't reply to this, and we sat in complete silence for at least five minutes before I finally gave in and sighed.
"I'll go with you tonight, if it'll make you happy."
Draco's ears perked up slightly as he turned towards me, disbelief painted across his face. "You will? Honestly?"
"Yes," I sighed once more, "Honestly. But you'll owe me."
His distraught expression suddenly broke into a grin as he reached out and pressed his lips again mine. It ended almost as quickly as it had begun, but when we broke apart we were both grinning.
"You won't regret it," He promised, "You'll have the time of your life."
Desperate for changing
Starving for truth
I'm closer to where I started
Chasing after you
I'm falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I've held on to
I'm standing here until you make me move
I'm hangin by a moment here with you
Forgetting all I'm lacking
Completely incomplete
I'll take your invitation
You take all of me now
I'm falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I've held on to
I'm standing here until you make me move
I'm hanging by a moment here with you
I'm living for the only thing I know
I'm running and not quite sure where to go
And I don't know what I'm diving in to
I'm hanging by a moment here with you
There's nothing else to lose
There's nothing else to find
There's nothing in the world
That could change my mind
There is nothing else
I'm falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I've held on to
I'm standing here until you make me move
I'm hanging by a moment here with you
I'm living for the only thing I know
I'm running and not quite sure where to go
And I don't know what I'm diving in to
I'm hanging by a moment here with you....*
*Lifehouse, Hanging By A Moment
A/N: There is, in fact, a club/"disco" in Detroit called the Loft. I borrowed the name. But, the funny thing is, there's a bar in London called Detroit Bar. *shakes head* I love Motown.
