Who I Am

Chapter 7

Fly Away From Here

"Where's Mom?" I asked, looking around the living room as I stepped in the door.

"Bedroom." Vernon pointed over his shoulder.

I looked around to see we were the only ones in the room now. "Dudley finally leave again?"

"Yes, thank God."

I gave a weak smile at my step-father and began back into the master bedroom. When I reached the white wooden door, I stopped. Something was wrong. I couldn't hear the television going and it was time for Mom's favorite soap opera to start. She never missed it. I leaned against the door, pressing my ear against the cold, lifeless wood.

"Mom?" I asked aloud. No answer. My hand went to the handle and pushed it open. My eyes widened at the sight that befell me.

My mother hung from a noose tied to the ceiling fan.

"VERNON!" I screamed and ran back to the living room.

I rested on a tree near my mother's coffin as it hung over its final resting place. I had left the family line up where people walked by, shaking their hands and saying how much she would be missed. I had never shaken so many strangers' hands in one sitting. I closed my eyes and felt a few more tears fall. I had hardly stopped since seeing her hanging from the noose, eyes set in a wide, sightless daze. . . I knew she was depressed, but I never thought. . .

"Harry?"

I turned to the source of the intrusion. My mouth fell. Dean stood there in a suit and tie, a slight smile on his face as was his character to do.

"Dean. . ." I walked forward and, before I could stop myself, put my arms around him. I held him tight in my arms as if he was the only thing holding me to this earth. If I let go I would surely float up into the clouds with my mother. "Oh, Dean. . . You are a sight for sore eyes."

He pushed me back a little but continued to hold my shoulders as I held his elbows. "You've grown even more beautiful than I remember." He touched my face gently. "Of course, with my luck, still straight?" Jon gave a smile and leaned forward a bit with a slight twinkle in his eyes.

I laughed a little. "Really . . . no." I shrugged and smiled back at him. "Not a day goes by that I don't think of you. You see I—"

He kissed me softly on the lips, stopping my confessions dead in their tracks. I smiled at him as he let go. It was the sweetest kiss I'd ever had the pleasure of receiving. Draco was rather fierce and Dean was just sweet. . . Ron was dead center of both. Loving but lustful.

"Be damned! And at your own mother's funeral, too. Do you gay guys have any control?"

"Leave us, Dudley." I said, not taking my eyes off of Dean.

"Oh, c'mon, Harry!" he walked around and put an arm around Dean's shoulders. "You're the guy that turned my step-brother, right? Congratulations!" Dudley slapped him on the back with a grin.

"Leave him alone." I reached over and smacked him away. "I haven't seen him in nearly three years and I'm—"

"—trying to get laid in peace, hm? Okay, I'll go."

"DUDLEY!"

Vernon found this a good spot to intervene. "Don't yell in a graveyard, Harry!"

"Sorry, Vernon!" I looked back at Dean.

"Let's walk a little, what say you?" (Yes, he talks like this regularly just so he can make people laugh.)

I nodded my agreement with a smile. We turned to begin our walk through the graves, pinkies entwined. We hadn't ever been very affectionate. Except, maybe the night of the spring dance, a few days before he moved and I came out of the closet. . .

"And you're not at the dance because . . . ?"

I looked up at Dean. "Because I can't dance."

"Can't dance?" He acted as if he'd never heard such a preposterous statement. As if, to him, it was a sin to not know how to dance. Like not knowing how to pray. . . "I hate to sound clichéd but: everyone can dance! Have you ever tried?"

I folded my arms. "No. I never found a reason to." I looked away, hiding my eyes under my bangs as best I could. They were so short it was nearly impossible.

Dean put his hand under my chin to pull me up. "Come here." He pulled me up into his arms, holding me in position with one hand on my shoulder and the other holding my hand.

I blushed slightly. What from, I can't say. "There's no music." I pointed out blankly.

Dean danced us over to his CD player and turned on some soft-rock music.

"Gotta find a way

Yeah, I can't wait another day.

Ain't nothing gonna change

If we stay 'round here.

Gotta do what it takes

Cause in all our hands

We all make mistakes. . ."

"Better?"

"I guess. . ."

Dean walked me through the steps and then left it up to me. I watched his eyes as we danced around the room.

"Fly away from here

Anywhere, yeah I don't care

We'll fly away from here

Our hopes and dreams are out there somewhere. . ."

"I like Aerosmith." I commented softly.

"Me too." His voice was barely above a whisper. . .

"I feel really gay right now. . ."

"Could it have anything to do with being in a gay man's arms?"

"You? Gay?" I laughed.

"The sarcasm was hardly needed, Harry."

"Sorry." I said, still laughing. He was laughing too, so I could tell he wasn't too serious about it. Dean was never very serious about anything, even his sexuality.

"We'll just fly away from here. . ."

Then, I felt his hand run from my shoulder to the back of my neck. My heart began to quicken its pace as I felt his soft caress on the back of my spine. I closed my eyes now as I felt him move closer to me, our chests barely touching beneath our cotton shirts. But, all the same, I swear I could feel his heart quickening with mine. I stopped moving as he rested his head on my shoulder and let go of my hand to rest it on my other shoulder. The other hand, where his head now sat, had found its way up the back of my shirt. The soft flesh of his lips connected to that of my neck. With that my throat closed up as if his mouth was squeezing the life out of me.

At the same time, a shock went through me at the contact as if his lips also gave off an electric charge. It was like touching a fallen power line: I wanted to get away, but couldn't. I was locked there in his arms.

"Do you see a bluer sky now?

You can have a better life now

Open your eyes

Because no one here can ever stop us

They can try but we won't let them. . ."

With the same tenderness, I put my arms around him as if in surrender to his touch. I took his free hand and kissed his palm. I confessed in my mind that I truly wanted him. . . I wanted Dean more than anything at that moment. . .

His lips found their way up my neck and gave a soft nibble at my ear. "I love you."

"Do you still love me, Dean?" I looked off at a marble grave shaded by mounds of fresh flowers. Someone else had died recently along with my mother. She wouldn't be alone. . .

The black boy leaned over my shoulder and whispered in my ear, "Yes. I could never stop." His arms slipped around me, gathering my body against his. "I'll always love you. Always want you in my arms; always give you what you need or want. . . Just . . ."

"Just what, Dean?"

"Just tell me that you finally feel the same, Harry."

AN: I am so mean. . . So, should Harry give up on Ron and be with Dean? Will he reject him once again? I AINT TELLIN! You have to read and find out!