SEE THE SUN
By Nenya Entwhistle
Disclaimer: All characters belong to JK Rowling, I'm just borrowing them for a brief turn in words.
Warning: This is slash and this has not been beta'd. Read at your own risk and do not bother sending me flames about the homo-love-lines. I'll just assume you can't read.
Do you remember telling me?
You'd found the sweetest thing of all
You said one day of this was worth dying for
So be thankful you knew him at all
"See the Sun" (Dido)
Two
You and I
Waking up next to you was the best thing. It was even better to wake up before you and be able to see the serene beauty on your pristine features while you were sleeping. It was the only time I could catch you completely unguarded. Have I ever mentioned how much you remind me of an angel?
I should tell you sometime, that I think of you as my guardian angel. I have a feeling that you won't believe me because it was a ludicrous thought of you ever being that good enough to be angelic. But you have always protected me, even when we were more enemies than friends.
I love you so much.
"Mmm…," you moaned as you opened one of your grey eyes, "Harry? What time is it?" Your voice sounded pleasantly lethargic. I felt a smile curve my lips upward. I had worn you out, my poor Dragon. "Hmmm?"
"It's 8," I answered.
"It's too early."
For a Saturday, yes, I had to agree that it was rather early. But you didn't have to wake up, I was content just watching you sleep most of the day away if you wished it. Since you were up though, I was more than willing to take advantage of that. "It's not that early," I countered.
You groaned.
I pointed my wand at your mouth and murmured a mouth-washing charm. Then I kissed you, thoroughly, in the manner that said made you feel as if you were a step away from heaven. "Let's go flying," I murmured when I managed to pull away. "We haven't been in a while."
"Harry," you grumbled, "it's 8 in the morning."
I gave you my puppy eyed look.
You growled.
"Please love?"
You sighed.
I smiled. I'd won.
-
Hand in hand, we walked into the Great Hall. Sitting at the main table as always was my mentor and guide, Albus Dumbledore, still the Headmaster of Hogwarts. To his right was my former head of house and dear comrade, Minerva McGonagall and to his left was your godfather and my friend, Severus Snape. As was usual, the three of them were in a serious debate, Minerva on one side and Severus on the other.
"Harry!" Minerva called out. "Don't you agree that Transfiguration is a much harder subject matter than Potions?"
Inwardly, I cringed and I felt your hand squeeze mine rigidly. Both you and I had been in the middle of this grand and on-going debate for the last five or so years? We agreed that Severus and Minerva had gotten quite childish and petty with their increased age. And as former house members, they expected us to take sides.
"Eh," I mumbled.
"You can't expect Harry," Severus drawled, "to agree with you that Transfiguration is a much harder subject matter when he barely passed his Potions NEWTs and got an O in Transfiguration, can you? Clearly Harry demonstrated that Potions is the much more complicated and harder subject matter. And I think Draco will back me up, right?"
You smiled a bit awkwardly for your usual smile, and I knew I was the only one that saw it. I was the only one that knew it was awkward. I read you better than I could read myself. But I guess that is what happens when you found your soulmate, isn't it?
"Draco," Minerva retorted, "can hardly be a proof that Potions is the harder subject matter when he only got an A in Transfiguration and yet got an E in Potions. If you go by Draco's grades, then you will have to admit that Transfiguration is clearly the more difficult medium to learn for wizards and witches. Harry is an entirely unacceptable example as Harry showed no talent in Potions and was clearly gifted in Transfiguration. Looking at the genetics, it's obvious that it was in his blood!"
Shit. Never bring up my parents with Severus, it was not a good thing. It was a very, very bad thing. You gave me a sideways look that said everything in a single gaze, you wanted to come to lunch and this is what we get caught up in the middle… you are going to pay for this when we get back to our room. I sighed inside.
"Minerva…" Severus growled.
"Now, now," Albus remarked, cutting into what would have become a full fledged argument between the two heads of houses, "don't you two think that each and every student has his or her own strength and that based on this difference in person, that one student may find Potions more challenging and another Transfiguration?"
It was a good argument. You were looking skeptical at the Headmaster's attempt at conciliation and I, I for one had to agree with you. It was good, but it wasn't good enough. Nice try, Albus.
"No," Severus snapped.
"Absolutely not," Minerva inserted a second later.
You and I were trying to back away slowly, inch by inch, hoping that Severus and Minerva would be too busy staring each other down or glaring at Albus to notice our directions out of the Great Hall. It was working…
"Would you like to join us?" Albus invited. He waved his hand and two more chairs popped up and we were effectively trapped.
You gave me a I'm very unhappy look.
I bite my bottom look and said silently, what can I do?
-
"What you can do," you murmured darkly, "is to be very, very nice to me," you pushed me against the wall, "and be very thankful that it was only lunch and part of the afternoon that we were stuck there," and your lips bent down and captured mine in a sizzling kiss.
I sighed against your lips and my tongue boldly slipped into your mouth to duel with yours. I could still taste the faint flavor of the chocolate dessert that you had indulged yourself in. I had always been fond of chocolate, but there was something special about it being mix with your unique flavor. I was crazy about it, crazy about you.
Who ever would have thought that I would ever fall in love with you? You were a Malfoy, ferret boy, and a Death Eater-in-training. But somehow, somewhere along the lines when I discovered that you weren't really a Death Eater at all--- that you had disobeyed your father and gotten disinherited to when I finally defeated Voldemort the summer after my 7th years, I did just that. I fell in love with you.
"Harry," your lips had left mine as we desperately needed some oxygen, "if we don't stop," you kissed me again, briefly, "we won't stop."
"Why stop?" I kissed you back.
"We have to." Your head bent down to nuzzle my Adam's apple.
I moaned. "Oh?"
"Pomfrey."
I gave a ragged sigh. You stopped nuzzling. We sagged against each other. It wasn't as if we didn't get to take advantage of the physical part of our relationship very often. We did it so often that it was a wonder that we weren't both walking around very sore. It wasn't as if we were deprived, far be it. We were overindulged, but that didn't make us want each other any less. If anything, our addiction fed our addiction.
"What time is it?" I asked.
"It's nearly time for your appointment with her."
I forgot when I had mentioned it to you. I must have done it sometime when we had been chasing the snitch. You always had the superior memory. If I hadn't told you this morning, no doubt I would have forgotten to shown up for the scheduled checkup. How I had kept this a secret for so long without you know, I don't know.
Albus had helped in it, I suspected. Somehow he had always managed to send me reminders in such a weird wacky way that was typical of him that you just dismissed it as some grandfatherly affection. Snape as well, he was the reason why I had finally had to tell.
When it hadn't been serious, Snape was all too willing to let it slide. After all, why concern you when you had already had enough to worry about with your mother? Your dear sweet mother locked in St. Mungo's mad as a banshee because of being separated from the love of her life. Was it kinder to keep her there or to subject her to Azkaban and the dementors?
I wasn't so sure we had made the right choice. Neither were you, but that was what we had decided and it was too late to transfer her to your father's side. Mad as she was, she wasn't as unhappy as she had been. And St. Mungo's medistaff provided excellent care that she would not have received in Azkaban. She was comfortable and happy in a demented way.
That was enough of a worry to plague you with. I hadn't wanted to add a small bout of cancer to the list. It wasn't that serious. Snape had agreed. It had taken some convincing, but he eventually agreed to help me with my charade. Even going as far as to covering up my visits to Poppy by saying I'd been down to consult him about some spell, which wasn't totally out there. The only person who knew as much about Defense as I did was Snape.
When it had started to get serious, he pushed me to tell you. I still hadn't wanted to. Poppy said I was getting better. The magi-chemotherapy I was receiving from a mediwizard cancer specialist was doing wonders to decreasing the dangerous white blood cell counts that were ravaging my healthy cells. It was under control now, but Snape had been right. I had to tell.
As well as the magi-chemotherapy was working, like it's muggle counterpart, chemotherapy, there were side affects. It wouldn't start showing for a while but it would eventually show up. I wasn't going to lose my hair, but I was going to start looking sickly. Already I could tell I wasn't feeling as well as I had been before. Already the magi-chemotherapy was zapping my strength.
You caught the snitch before me.
You assumed I had let you win, but I hadn't been able to keep up.
Slowly my strength was going to leave me. But I was getting better. Poppy was hopeful that with enough magi-chemotherapy that I wouldn't need a bone marrow transplant. If I did, it would be extremely difficult. With a living relative, I might have had a better chance of finding a match. Within the limited wizarding population, she doubted there would be a match for me and while the muggle world was much larger, there was the problem of identification and the long wait.
Unlike the muggles stricken with leukemia, the healing magic that Poppy and St. Mungo's specialists could supply would keep me out of danger should it reach that desperate level. But I didn't fancy being confided in a hospital room day in and day out because I needed round the clock magical care until a suitable bone marrow could be found. The magi-chemotherapy had to work.
If it didn't, maybe I might be lucky. Maybe there was a witch or wizard in the wizarding world that would be a suitable donor for me. Poppy had a tendency to be a bit pessimistic, but I preferred the pessimism to overwhelming optimism that would have clouded reality.
"Harry?" you murmured.
I must have drifted off in thought. I had an alarming tendency to do that when my mind was preoccupied with important matters. Another reason why it was amazing I had kept this a secret. It didn't help you had the attention to detail of a trained spy. "Yes?"
"We'd best go then?"
I nodded and you wrapped your arm around my waist. "Let's go."
-
Author's Note: Thanks for all your positive feedback. I really appreciate what you have to say and look forward to receiving more encouragement. As I already stated in Chapter One's A/N, Harry won't be dying. However, that doesn't mean he won't be sick and feel bad because of his magi-chemotherapy. This does have to be somewhat realistic. Draco's going to feel quite frustrated and helpless because of this, and well… I think that's normal. He's going to have to deal with it and be a loving and caring partner at the same time. If you have any ideas on what else I can do with the story, please let me know in your review. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this.
TBC soon.