Posted: 20 December, 2009

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story that is recognisable from the Harry Potter books, movies, etc. Everything else however (eg. story plot, original characters, etc.) stems from my own imagination and belongs to me. No copyright infringement is intended and I am not profiting financially from this story in any way.


Chapter 7 - Realising

Wednesday, July 30 - Thursday, July 31, 1997

In less than two months it was the end of Harry's sixth year and he returned to the Dursley's once more. As he prepared to leave Hogwarts, he was surprised to realise that he expected to miss Bill immensely. They'd become quite close and he was not looking forward to going so long without seeing him whilst he stayed with his relatives.

And so was that Harry was delighted when, the first day of holidays, the man turned up to spend the evening with him. Dudley's second bedroom was not nearly as cosy as their classroom – which, in addition to the added security wards, had been magically improved upon for comfort during its weeks of use – but Harry hardly cared. He was just glad the curse-breaker was going to keep visiting as he'd become a fast friend. And that was honestly all the young hero thought it was. Friendship. That perspective was irrevocably altered however on the eve and day of his seventeenth birthday.

The eldest Weasley brother had turned up on the evening of the thirtieth, laden with presents.

"Hey Bill," Harry greeted him happily when he Apparated into the room. "Sit down. Here, put those on the desk."

"Hi Harry. Decent haul you have this year."

"Yeah," Harry said, looking at the presents with awe (even after all these years at Hogwarts it still stunned him to receive gifts). "How come you're delivering them? Normally they all owl in at midnight."

"Well, Errol's getting on a bit so Mum asked if I could bring hers with me when I dropped by. We were in the kitchen at headquarters at the time, and everyone else thought it was a good idea – more secure than owl mail you see. So next thing I new I was being tasked by Ron, Hermione, Remus, Tonks, Moody, Vance and even Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore got me something?" he asked, surprised, and reached toward the pile of gifts.

"Hey, no opening till your birthday," Bill tsk'ed, slapping his hands away.

"But it's only a few hours away." He pouted, but Bill held firm.

"It doesn't matter. You have to wait."

Harry sighed but backed down, retreating to his bed where they both sat facing one another, one at the head of the bed and the other at the foot. He wiggled his leg as Bill's fingers tapped a rhythm on his ankle which rested by the older wizard's side.

"How was training today? You had Medimagic with Vance, right?"

"Yep. We're working on medical stasis spells."

"Really?" Bill raised an impressed eyebrow. "That's pretty advanced."

"And hard. Believe me, I know. I'm just glad she had us practicing on transfigured rats first, rather than live people."

"Why's that?"

"For safety she said, and she was justified. My first attempt melted the 'patient', the second one petrified it, and somehow the third one set the rat on fire. It's not funny! I got it right eventually. Stop laughing!" he ordered, crossing his arms and feeling embarrassed. "Humph, I'd like to see you do better."

"Sorry," Bill finally apologised. "It's just that when you get a spell wrong you really do it in style."

"Bill!"

"Okay, I'll stop now."

Not wanting to discuss his less than stellar training session any further, he changed the subject.

"So, what's new on the war front?" he asked and the older wizard sobered.

"Mostly just the usual: attacks almost daily, with the Aurors and the Order managing to prevent some, but not others. There is one big bit of news though. There was a change in leadership in the giant clans – the old leader was killed. And not by someone bigger and uglier like usual. The new leader – Ogog - is smart more than anything. He courted allies in the clan to back his takeover. It's very advanced strategy for giants."

"They're normally 'bash, kill', and 'me bigger, me better', aren't they?"

Bill nodded. "Not terribly flattering, but pretty accurate. Anyway, Hagrid and Olympe made contact with Ogog, and managed to secure the giants' neutrality."

"That's good, right?"

"Yeah. Since the Death Eaters were first to send out envoys to them, there was some worry that they'd win them over. We may not have convinced them to join our side but it's a load off everyone's minds to know they're not going to You-Know-Who's either."

"Yeah," Harry said, remembering his fright at first meeting Hagrid's massive half-brother Grawp. "We really don't want to be facing giants in battle."

..ooOOoo..

"Oh, I almost forgot," Bill said suddenly. "You owe me a thank you."

It was some time later. Bill was still seated at the head of the bed, albeit slumped down, head resting against a cushion set against the headboard, one leg tucked up and the other dangling off the side of the bed. Harry meanwhile, ever restless, had shifted around so that he lay sideways at the foot of the bed. His legs hung off one side and his head off the other, as the mattress really wasn't wide enough for his position.

"I do?" he asked. "What for?"

Bill shifted slightly reaching into his back pants pocket. As he did so his extended leg swung backward and forward a bit, and Harry batted at it playfully, trying to catch it by the heel.

"Ah, here we go," the redhead announced, and he looked over to see the man holding what looked like a photograph. "Got it from the twins, who confiscated it from Colin Creevey." Bill paused and tilted his head to one side. "I won't imagine what Creevey was doing with it. Still, disturbing as that is, it's not as worrying as what Fred and George had planned."

"What?" he asked, confused at what could be so worrisome. "It's probably a photo right? Colin's forever taking photographs, particularly of me. Especially when he first got to Hogwarts. He must have a ton of pictures of my mug by now." He shrugged. "Why's this one more disturbing that the usual?"

"Well," Bill drawled slowly.

Their was such a hidden wealth of meaning in that tone that Harry heaved himself into up into a sitting position, view switching dizzyingly from upside-down to right-side-up as he did so.

"Well what?" he asked, quite curious now.

"The twin's were thinking of printing up posters of the picture to sell. I don't think they were entirely serious but they could've made a mint from it, so I figured better safe than sorry. As I said, you owe me many and profuse thanks."

"Damn it Bill, just tell me already," he demanded.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present," the other wizard said dramatically, waving the picture about with a smirk on his face, "exclusive photographic imagery, of the one and only boy-who-lived, au naturel."

Harry's jaw dropped. "Wait, you don't mean-" he squeaked, but Bill's smirk just got wider. "Give me that!"

He reached out to grab the photo but the redhead held it away from him. Harry leaned further forwards.

"Nope, I think I'll just hold onto it. Maybe the twins had the right idea."

"Bill, I'm serious!" Harry shouted.

Still the redhead would not hand over the picture and a scuffled ensued. Harry dived for it, landing half on top of Bill who let out an 'oomph', but managed to hold his hand back above his head, beyond Harry's reach. The younger wizard scrambled upright then, into a seated position, braced one hand on the body beneath him and leapt for the photo. He managed to tear it from Bill's grasp, landing back with a thump that once again stole the redhead's breath.

Turning his prize over in his hand, Harry finally got a look at the photograph, and squawked in indignation. A part of him had been hoping it was all a joke, but there it was, in full colour; Harry Potter standing naked under the Quidditch changing room showers. He supposed it could have been worse. At least it wasn't a frontal shot… okay, no, he was kidding himself. He was in no way okay with this.

"Colin that git – I'll kill him! No, even better than that, I'll transfigure his camera into a snake. He loves that thing, and he's terrified of reptiles." He nodded, a vengeful expression on his face. "Yes, that's what I'll do."

There was no response from Bill and he realised the older wizard had been silent for a bit too long. He looked down and blinked in surprise at what he saw. There was an odd look on the redhead's face.

"Bill?" he asked.

But then, suddenly, he realised the position they were in. Bill was laid out flat on his bed and he was sat, straddling his hips. Bill's hands had fallen to rest on his upper thighs, and his own free hand was pressed against a bare, toned abdomen, when his friend's shirt had rucked up.

This all catalogued, he promptly turned a bright red, let out a 'meep' and scrambled backwards, hopping off the bed. Once he was halfway across the room, he spun around. Bill was still lying there, still with that strange expression as he stared after him. After a moment though it cleared and he straightened up into a cross-legged position. Harry used the excuse of hiding the confiscated photo to turn away, tucking it into his trunk. Then he turned back and an awkward silence ensued.

"So," he said, wincing at the 'desperate to appear normal and failing miserably' tone to his voice, "how about them Cannon's?"

"Merlin, don't tell me Ron's converted you to a Chudley Cannon's fan," Bill said.

Harry sighed in relief that his friend was taking the subject changer that he offered. He assured the redhead that he was not a Cannon's fan, but rather leaned toward the Falmouth Falcons because their motto – 'Let us win, but if we cannot win, let us break a few heads' – rather amused him. From there they segued into a lively debate about who was promising for the League competition and Harry relaxed, reassured that that strange moment was forgotten.

..ooOOoo..

"What do you want to do after Hogwarts?"

Conversation had switched from Quidditch through a number of other topics. Harry had finally returned to the bed, though he and Bill remained cross-legged at opposite ends this time.

"After Hogwarts?" Harry asked. "I don't know."

"Didn't you have careers advice fifth year? What did you tell McGonagall?"

"I said I was interested in being an Auror."

"Well, from what I've seen of your duelling and combat sessions and what Tonks and Moody have said about your skill, I think you'd definitely be good at it."

"Maybe…" He trailed off and Bill looked at him questioningly.

"What is it?" he prodded.

"It's just… well sometimes I wonder if I'll even live long enough to find out," he confessed in a rush.

He waited then for Bill to either get angry at him for thinking so negatively, or pitying toward him for his situation, or perhaps offer false platitudes that everything would work out. Those were the sort of responses Ron and Hermione would give. None of them helped. But Bill surprised him by taking none of those routes.

"Maybe you won't," he said looking a bit distressed beneath his usual calm, and surprising Harry with his honesty. "But there's this Muggle saying I've heard of: 'he who does not hope to win has already lost'. And Harry, neither you nor any of us can afford to lose this war. It won't be easy and odds are against you, but you have so many people behind you, and I really think if you try hard enough you can do it. So you need to keep those fears controlled and focus on more productive thoughts, like winning and all you have to fight for."

Harry just stared, taking in what he had said. Bill knew him very well for how short an amount of time they'd been friends. Everything he said was exactly what he needed to hear, but at the same time he knew the other wizard wasn't just saying it just because it was what he wanted to hear. No, Bill believed what he was saying, and as he sat there Harry took the advice in and assimilated it. He was right. There was too much riding on this war. He needed to focus on winning, not dwell on pessimistic 'what ifs'.

"Yeah," he finally spoke, "you're right."

"Good," Bill said heartily. "Now in the spirit of what I said, and focussing on the positive, let's assume you're going to survive this war intact and kick You-Know-Who's pasty white arse," Harry snorted incredulously at this but the redhead continued unabated. "And then after that you'll have a life to live. What are you going to do with it? Aside from the whole 'what if you don't survive' thing, was there any other reason you don't want to be an Auror anymore?"

Harry considered it.

"I guess that I feel like, so much of my life's been about fighting to survive. Maybe, if-" At Bill's pointed look he corrected himself. "When – when I finally defeat Voldemort, I don't think I'll want to become an Auror, only to have to fight some more."

"You want some peace," Bill said understandingly.

"Does that make me a coward?" he asked guiltily, but the other man shook his head.

"No," he said firmly. "It definitely doesn't. I think a lot people will be wanting peace once it's all over. So… is there anything else that interests you, if you've decided against being an Auror?"

"I'm not sure. I've never really thought about it," Harry said, tilting his head to one side as he considered. "The two things I like most I suppose are flying and-" He paused, throwing his companion a look. "Well just recently, since you've started teaching me, warding's become a favourite too."

Bill smiled. "You're definitely a natural warder."

"And flyer. It was instinct from the first time I got on a broom."

"So, Ward Caster or Quidditch Player then?"

"Maybe." He shrugged. "But like I said, I'm a natural at both, so I'm not sure if they'd be challenging enough. I wouldn't want to get bored."

"Well you've still got a whole year of Hogwarts left. You've plenty of time to think of some other job that you'd enjoy," Bill assured him, then looked toward his wrist before starting in surprise. "Merlin, look at the time. It's just past eleven. You'll probably be wanting to go to sleep by now."

But Harry shook his head.

"I can't go to sleep yet, it's my birthday soon," he said, and at Bill's confusion explained, "It's a tradition I've had since… oh ages really. I always stay up the night before my birthday to watch the clock turn over at midnight. Celebrate being another year older and all that."

Bill glanced down at his watch, then at the electronic alarm clock nearby on the drawers.

"Well, why don't I wait up with you? Keep you company?"

"Sure." Harry smiled. "I'd like that."

..ooOOoo..

It was nearing midnight and Bill and Harry had changed positions once more. Side-by-side on the carpet they sat, leaning against the rickety bed with shoulders and arms brushing, and watching the alarm clock. The only light came from the red glowing numbers on the clock, and the moon outside the window. Conversation had become quiet and light-hearted and Harry found himself resting his head on his companion's shoulder as he grew tired.

"One minute," Harry whispered.

They sat staring until finally, with a barely audible click, the clock switched from eleven fifty-nine to midnight morn. Bill shifted beside him then, and wrapped an arm around Harry's waist. He pulled him into a hug and the younger wizard went willingly.

"Happy birthday," the redhead whispered in his ear.

As they pulled apart Harry tilted his head upwards from where it still rested on the strong shoulder, intending to express his thanks. Before he could do more than open his mouth however he paused, frozen in place as he gazed at the soft expression on his friend's moonlit face. And then, without pausing to think on his actions, he discarded his words and instead leant further forward and pressed his lips to Bill's.

It was soft and chaste, just a whisper of a kiss really, and all too soon it was over. Harry was wide eyed in surprise at his own actions, and doubts were beginning to crash down upon him as Bill said nothing, just stared down at him with an uncertain, thoughtful gaze. And then the arm was withdrawing from around him and the redhead was pulling away.

"It's late," he said, voice neutral. "I should go and let you get some sleep."

"Bill-" he tried to object, though what he planned to do or say beyond that he didn't know.

"I'll see you later Harry."

And then, with the soft 'pop' of Apparition, he was gone.

Harry was still sat staring when the tapping startled. It took him a moment to realise it was owls at his window – probably birthday messages from Luna and Neville – and he got to his feet on autopilot to let them in. Mechanically he divested the birds of their mail, fed them a few owl treats, let them sip at Hedwig's water bowl, and then sent them on their way. He then put the gifts and letters down on his desk, and abruptly froze.

"I kissed Bill," he said in shock. "Bill, Ron's oldest brother. Brother as in a boy. Or a man really. I kissed a guy."

He waited for self-disgust to rise, but it just wasn't happening. It didn't feel wrong at all. He thought of Bill then; tall and toned, handsome features, cool dress sense, elegant long-fingered hands, easy smile and soothing voice. He definitely felt attraction. And still it didn't seem wrong. Well, he thought, I guess I'm gay then. Or rather, he amended, remembering his crush on Cho, bisexual. And surprisingly, he was okay with it.

Before he could become too excited about that, he remembered one depressing fact.

"I kissed him… and he left."

And just like that his mood plummeted. Oh god, what had he been thinking? He didn't know whether Bill liked him that way, or if the man even liked guys like that at all. Bill had become his best friend. He understood him in ways not even Ron and Hermione did, and there was no one he felt more comfortable with. He could open up to the redheaded man, share his fears, become vulnerable… something he'd never really felt safe enough to do with anyone else. And then he had just gone and kissed him, without thinking through the consequences. What if, he wondered despairingly (hesitating to say it even in his thoughts), what if he'd ruined their friendship for good?

Fears whirring about his mind, he walked over to his bed and dropped onto the mattress, curling up in a ball atop the covers. Slowly he drifted off to sleep, but with his worries it was far from restful.

..ooOOoo..

"Merlin, what was I thinking?" Bill muttered to himself, his composure having broken the moment he Apparated away. "And alright, he was the one that started it, but I didn't exactly object. But his lips were so soft and- no! I should not be thinking like that."

The eldest Weasley son was pacing back and forth in his room at Grimmauld Place (the Weasleys having moved in last year, not feeling security at the Burrow adequate). The door was locked and the room silence warded. This whole situation was messing with his equilibrium and he didn't need to make a show for everyone of him losing his cool. He plopped down in the tattered armchair in the corner of the room, sitting bent forward with elbows on knees and hands cradling his head. His fingers slid through his hair and he tugged at it with frustration.

"Let's just say it," he said. "I kissed Harry. Or Harry kissed me. We kissed. Harry, your baby brother's best friend, who's just a child, you pervert," he accused himself before sighing and shaking his head. "Okay, no, he's seventeen; of age by any wizarding standards. Alright, it was only a few seconds into his birthday that the kiss happened, but he was already seventeen. And Harry's mature for his age. He'd have to be of course, what with everything he's gone through and that task that's on his shoulders."

He sighed again, this time tinged with frustration, crossed his arms over his chest and slumped in his chair, head tilted back to stare at the cobwebbed ceiling. There was sadness and a little anger in his last words. It just wasn't fair that Harry was so burdened. He was a good kid – he winced and corrected himself – guy, if they'd kissed and he was contemplating it all, then he couldn't think of him as a kid. He was a good guy and deserved better. Bill had faith that he'd pull through for everyone though. It was rare that he'd seen someone who could be so determined. So long as Harry turned that determination to winning and surviving, which Bill thought he would after their talk a few hours earlier, then it should all work out. Hopefully.

But he was getting off track. Harry and the kiss. It certainly didn't bother him that Harry was a boy, rather than a girl. He'd had male and female lovers both. It had shocked his family the first time he introduced them to a boyfriend, but they'd been accepting in the end, so he wasn't worried about his family's reactions. So what was worrying him here? It was a nice kiss. A little sweet and innocent, but definitely nice. Maybe it was Harry then?

He thought of the young man. Messy ebony locks that you just itched to run your fingers through, gorgeously vivid emerald eyes, soft pink lips, pale skin, a lean almost delicate figure, but toned from Quidditch, and – he added, remembering that photograph – he really did have the most lovely arse. And personality wise, he was kind, modest, brave and loyal. He had a bit of a guilt complex at times though and could be stubborn and reckless, but nobody was perfect. And he was already practically one of the family; his parents loved Harry. He was a good conversationalist too – or perhaps the two of them just clicked well; they could talk for hours without running out of subjects to discuss. But in contrast, they could also sit together in silence and not have it become awkward at all. He was also a delight to tease. He blushed beautifully.

"Okay…" He blinked, going back over all his thoughts. "Okay, I'm definitely attracted to him then, and not just on a superficial level. And given the fact that he was the one to initiate the kiss, he's probably attracted to me. So what's the problem?"

He considered that for a long moment, but nothing came to mind. He started to smile. Harry was a gorgeous, kind, engaging wizard who he connected well with and was likely interested in him. Ignoring the age gap which really, given how long wizard-kind lived was not that terribly much, he was just about perfect for him. He grinned a little stupidly, but with an air of determination. Right, first things first, he needed to get some sleep. Then there was an Order meeting at four o'clock. But after that…

"Watch out Harry Potter. Here I come."

..ooOOoo..

Harry had slept fitfully but late, and woken up at a quarter past nine. As he laid there he recalled all that had happened that morning. He gnawed at his lip as his worries returned – worries that he'd ruined the best friendship he'd ever had.

Eventually he dragged himself from bed and headed downstairs for some breakfast before closeting himself back upstairs in his room. Nothing else to do, and wanting the distraction, he opened his birthday gifts. Hermione had sent him a book called A Guide to Magical Careers. Ron had also sent a book surprisingly, but that was explained by the title: Quidditch Through the Ages.

Neville had sent him a very nice set of duelling robes (a gift Moody would probably approve of) and Luna had made him a rather colourful necklace of butterbeer corks, feathers and bits of tin, which she promised would ward off the Wrackspurts. From Ginny he received a rather ingenious potion which apparently, would cause his face to develop fuzzily in any photographs taken of him. 'For when the paparazzi gets too much' she said, and though he was thankful for such a thoughtful and ingenious gift, he couldn't help wishing – remembering that damn picture Colin had taken – that it protected his more 'private' areas instead.

From the adults, Mrs Weasley had sent him a decadent chocolate cake and Mr Wesley had reminded him that as he was now of age, he was free to do magic, sending along a little pamphlet entitled The Responsibilities of the Wand-Free Wizard. That reminder had sent a little thrill through him, as he'd quite forgotten, but he promised himself to read the booklet and act responsibly. He didn't want to end up on trial again after all.

Then there was the gift from Professor Dumbledore. He'd gasped in shock and disbelief as he peeled away the sparkling rainbow coloured wrapping paper to reveal a Pensieve. True, it was smaller than the headmaster's – the little stone bowl could be cradled in one hand, and would apparently only hold a single memory at a time – but still… a Pensieve. They were very rare and he was in awe that Dumbledore would find one for him.

After that he expected the gift from Remus and Tonks (he'd smiled knowingly at the fact they'd done a combination gift – how couply) to seem rather mundane. He was proven wrong however, when he opened it up to reveal a delicate necklace with a beautifully detailed golden stag pendent. Remus explained it had been James's gift to his mother on their first marriage anniversary. Tonks' addition to the gift had been a strip of thin leather, with protection runes embossed along the length. Her note said to thread the stag on the leather instead of the fine gold chain, so that he could wear the pendant and still look manly.

The next two gifts were from Moody and Emmeline Vance. Moody had sent him an Auror standard wand holster. Made of dragon hide and imbued with anti summoning charms, fire protection and curse resistance, it was quite the practical gift. From Healer Vance he received his second potion. It was a recent medical development, called the Oculus Clarus Potion. When taken it would work over a period of two weeks to correct deficiencies in vision. Excited, he swallowed it down at once, eagerly anticipating the day soon when he would not have to wear his glasses any longer.

The last gift, which he'd hesitated to open, was of course the one from Bill. It was thick, square and heavy and when he'd eventually opened it, he gaped in surprise. The leather bound book was titled simply Warding by T. Wendergill, but Harry knew it for what it was. This was considered the most comprehensive guide to warding in the wizarding world. It cost a small fortune and was very hard to come by; it was restricted sale to only Master Warders. Usually the only others to acquire it were Apprentice Warders, as gifts from their Master. How Bill had managed to find a copy boggled the mind, but Harry loved it.

..ooOOoo..

After opening his gifts, Harry tried to distract himself further. He picked up Warding first, but after about five minutes put it down. It was a fascinating read but it reminded him constantly of Bill, which reminded him of the kiss, which made him worry again – something he was trying to avoid. So then he moved onto the Pensieve.

After going over a few of his more exciting memories (and had the Basilisk really been that big?) he found himself returning to the topic he was trying not to think on. No matter that he told himself not to dwell, he spent the next few hours reliving his memories of Bill from last night and this morning. First into the bowl was the odd 'moment' they'd had when he managed to steal the photograph from the redhead. After seven views he was almost certainly not quite sure that was attraction on Bill's features. And then he watched the kiss over and over. Still short. Still chaste. And still sent Bill running. Really, watching it repeatedly was not helping him in anyway, but he couldn't help himself.

Eventually he dragged himself away from the Pensieve, making sure to stuff his memories back in his head, so nobody could accidentally stumble upon them. He then tried flicking through Hermione's book (A Guide to Magical Careers), but even that reminded him of Bill, and the conversation they'd had about what he wanted to do after Hogwarts. Which of course reminded him of the kiss that happened later. This in turn renewed his worry. Really, it was getting a bit ridiculous.

Next he opened up Quidditch Through the Ages, and through sheer will and bloody mindedness alone, managed to avoid thinking about the conversation he and Bill had shared last night about the League competition. A not so small miracle that, really.

He lost track of time then, pausing in his reading only to head downstairs for food when he got hungry at around half two. But then it was back upstairs and diving back into Ron's book. He was almost halfway through it and reflected that this was probably the longest he'd ever read for without needing information for homework, but anything to distract him was worth his turning bookish like Hermione.

It was six o'clock when the silence was broken by a soft 'pop'. Startled he looked up to see Bill standing in the middle of his bedroom. He came back, his mind cried out in relief, he came back. But then he saw the set expression on the redhead's face and started to worry. What did that mean? Was he mad? Was he just here to reject him, or officially end their friendship? He didn't know how to react. But then, after several agonising seconds of suspense, the redhead strode toward him determinedly, took his face in his hands, and kissed him.

Harry, stunned still, did nothing but stand there wide-eyed until the older man finally began to pull away. The instant he spied the disappointed expression on his face he snapped out of his shock. Realising that Bill thought he wasn't interested in continuing where last night left off, and deciding abruptly that he most certainly was, he reached upward and pulled the freckled face back down, pressing their lips together once more.

The kiss started off soft and chaste, just like their first, but before too long it deepened, wet and warm. Bill's fingers thread through his raven hair even as his own clasped behind the redhead's neck. He moaned as a tongue swiped at his lip and let his jaw fall open slightly, and then Bill was there, exploring his mouth with his tongue.

Eventually they both pulled back, needing air. They remained leaning into one another, Bill bent down and he on tiptoe, foreheads pressed together. Both were breathing heavily, puffs of air playing across one another's lips. Their eyes, which had been closed, somehow both opened simultaneously with slow, heavy lidded blinks.

"I was so scared when you left," Harry whispered, breathing still short. "Thought it meant you thought it was a mistake." He shook his head. "Well after I was done freaking out that is."

Bill laughed, gazing at him softly, rubbing his thumb tenderly across the younger wizard's jaw.

"Nah. Just had to do some 'freaking out' of my own. Besides," he said, eyes turning mischievous and gaze leering, "after getting an eyeful of that photo, how could I resist? You have a very fanciable arse Harry. All nicely rounded but a bit firm at the same time."

Harry squeaked and ducked his blushing face forward into the crook of the redhead's shoulder.

"'Fanciable' isn't a word," he said, because he was sure it was all he could manage to say without lighting up on the spot from the heat of his cheeks.

Bill chuckled at his predicament. Harry, a bit indignant that the man was finding his embarrassment amusing, drew on every reserve of composure he had to give another somewhat cooler reply, to make up for that first pedantic one.

"It's the Quidditch," he said, aiming for and almost managing a nonchalant tone.

"Oh, is that it?" Bill said, thankfully not calling him on the fact that despite his attempted at unaffectedness, his warm face was still pressed against the taller wizard's neck. "Well, we must be duly grateful for the sport of wizards then."

Harry rolled his eyes then pulled back to look at Bill's face once more. After a few moments, uncertainty started to worry at him. What did this mean? What if Bill was just interested in a snog or something?

"What?" the older wizard asked, running his thumb over his jaw again, before tracing it across his bottom lip. "What's wrong?"

"What- I mean-" He blushed, "What is this? What are we?"

"Hmm," Bill hummed. "Well I think, that I'm yours, if you want me. So long as you're mine. How's that sound?"

"Yeah," he smiled, part shy, part delighted. "Yeah, that sounds good."


Reviews make me happy (hint, hint).