Heaven - The Afterlife

Heaven - The Afterlife

Snow. Falling silently, freely, beautifully, against a steel grey sky, against the car, against his soul, his mind. The snow was an amazing thing and often reminded him of the sweetest snow angel waiting for him at home. Perhaps it was because they first realized they loved each other in the dead of winter... perhaps it was simply all the times they sat silently together, curled like lazy cats around each other, watching the snow fall out the window of their home. Perhaps it was the way that when it snowed, it just felt so much warmer inside, like despite the freezing temperatures, despite the horrid weather and the frequent blackouts and the slick streets, they were safe together... happy, warm.

Harry laughed idly at his thoughts, taking a left at a quiet street corner, the bag of groceries next to him rustling with the movement of his little silver BMW. A smug smile crossed his face as he neared his destination, watching the snow outside again as his thoughts strayed. They so easily did. Harry's thoughts strayed all the time... he was accused of being a dreamer, and he supposed in many aspects, the accusation was correct. Finally, the familiar driveway, the small, now snow covered lawn, the flashy gold house numbers next to the door, with its beautiful stained glass bird design on the top. Such a comfort, such a relief it always was when Harry pulled their little car into the driveway, into the garage - such familiar, warm feelings... he knew that no matter how wonderful his day was, it was ten times more wonderful when he pulled into the driveway - when he walked through the door and into Heaven.

Eagerly, Harry scooped up the bag of groceries (they had Ron and Hermione coming over tonight, and Neville usually stopped by with them - though sometimes he forgot. It was nice just to have Ron and Hermione over though) and strode briskly up the stone walkway to the front door. He kicked his shoes free of snow, and then opened the door silently and stepped in - and immediately met the sound of Draco.

Or rather, Draco playing piano. They had purchased the Piano shortly after they moved in, and Draco had immediately taken a liking (or loving) to it. He caressed it with such care that Harry often wondered if he called it 'Harry' in secret, for such touches were for him alone. Draco, of course, was superb at playing and Harry was always content to sit and listen to him for hours. To watch his mercury eyes open in a dreamy manner, and close again, his head ducking, swaying, to the music, his long, lithe fingers flying across the keys as if they were his own heart and soul - for he knew them so well.

It was a beautiful song Draco was playing, and so fervently. Harry had heard him practice it once before, about a week ago... but Draco stopped and blushed when Harry sat down next to him, and after that they got... distracted. With a grin, the black haired wizard crept silently into the kitchen and put the groceries down, checking on the cookies in the oven, before crossing to the doorway and leaning gently against the wall where Draco couldn’t see him. He closed his emerald eyes, and let the music take him where it would.

And take him it did... for it was such a beautiful thing, and being played by an even more beautiful creature made it all the better. The perfect combination to make one's heart sing with such joy it summons tears. Harry swayed with it slightly, thinking of how lucky he was... to be with Draco. How beautiful and overlooked the blond haired angel was, and how Harry had softened such a steely exterior into the purring, delighted, and ethereal creature he now held in his arms every day. His thoughts strayed further, and Harry couldn’t help but open his eyes again thoughtfully.

How different... vastly, vastly different they were. Draco Malfoy, rich, graceful, beautiful. He was a true prize, and it was no wonder most of the girls used to fall all over him at school, tittering at his every word, following him around like helpless puppies. Harry, on the other hand, was not exactly charming, with the large glasses he refused to replace, and his unruly hair and awkward stride… and dark past. He wasn’t rich, he wasn’t beautiful, and life was hardly kind to him - until Draco let him in. Until Draco loved him, life was miserable.

But now... oh how such things can change. How the power that a single person holds can change a life so drastically. When loved with such love as Draco showed him, Harry could not help but be happy, content... he felt exalted, higher than the rest of the world. Special, for once, not because of his scar. How drastically Draco had changed him, and how wonderful it was... no words could ever truly explain the bond between them, it traversed everything. Everything.

Harry slowly stood up from where he leaned against the wall, and leaned just inside the doorway, instead. He could not listen any longer without watching. Long moments passed, and Harry watched Draco's long fingers glide across the black and white keys elegantly... with such passion, such care. Idle fingers moved to brush across the soft, worn fabric of the sweater Harry was wearing - an old, red sweater Draco had gotten him so long ago. It was still his favorite article of clothing, and he wore it often, even to important meetings - much to Draco's dismay and amusement. A slow, lazy smile crossed his face as he watched his lover play, and fingers moved to instinctively touch another gift, around his neck... an emerald pendant on a silver chain that the blond wizard had given to him on a very, very special occasion.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted suddenly, for liquidly, Draco turned his unfocused mercury eyes towards Harry. His heart skipped, as it always did, when Draco looked at him like that, and Harry's grin broadened as he pushed off from the doorway while Draco wound the melody to a close. But it continued on, in their eyes, in their hearts... they seemed to always be singing, playing, when they were together. Harry took the offered seat next to Draco on the piano bench as the blond haired wizard scooted over and patted it in invitation.

Fingers twined together in a familiar motion of greeting and acceptance. Harry's steady, lazy emerald eyes met Draco's piercing, stunning silver eyes, and they leaned to kiss, briefly, warmly. Such was their greeting almost every time they met - at home at least. Harry smiled and leaned his forehead against Draco's lithe shoulder as the blond haired man combed long fingers through his unruly black hair. He closed his eyes, and sucked in Draco... everything about Draco. The way he was elegant and lovely like so much spun glass, the way he smelled of lemon tea and chocolate. Such comforting, wonderful sensations. Harry searched his heart for words to tell Draco... to tell the world, of how this felt - and he could find none. A sense of peace washed over him, and he turned his head quietly against Draco's shoulder to watch the snow fall.

They sat like that for long moments and Harry reveled once again in the feelings the snow gave him. Every year it was like this... this season of love and joy was so absolute, so perfect, with Draco at his side. He never liked the holiday season before Draco came along. They shifted their weight together, to make each other more comfortable, and Harry tucked his nose against Draco's neck, closing his eyes, nuzzling gently.

"Draco...," he murmured lazily, letting his lips caress that fine, pale skin on his neck, feeling a content, happy sigh escape him.

"Mmm?" was his answer, and he felt Draco's breath warm and damp against his hair. Harry felt lazy, warm, drunk - as he always did when he first came home. The late afternoon was just... sheer perfection, by his standards.

"You played beautifully," he breathed softly in reply, taking a moment again to kiss and nibble that slender neck.

"Thank you..." Another warm breath in Harry's hair, and a light, fleeting kiss on the top of his head... it sent Harry into a sort of numb, happy bliss, and he closed his eyes again, thoughts drifting to nothing in particular. The sound of Draco's voice again, however, tugged him gently back to reality (if it could be called that) and he blinked lazily. “It is because of you.”

Harry answered drowsily, happily, “What is?”

"That I could play like that," Draco whispered against his ear. Harry felt fingers ease themselves underneath his chin, and lift. He obeyed, and met Draco's eyes again... such beautiful eyes, as silver as the winter sky, yet filled with warmth. "Harry... my soul, my being aches with love for you... how could I express it any other way?" Draco drawled softly. Harry's heart skipped again and he couldn’t help but smile. No words came in answer to him though, and so instead he contented himself to lean up and press his lips against Draco's, twining his fingers through that soft, feathery white-gold hair.

Slender fingers stroked over Harry's back, and Draco returned his kiss, feeling hands move to his shoulders in a loving caress. Harry felt suddenly as if he were kissing an angel, for every texture, every smell, every taste, seemed so unreal... and so perfect. Harry gently broke the kiss, and looked up at Draco shyly, smiling. They sighed together, and leaned against each other... Harry's eyes gazing back towards the window, and the snow.

The snow... and the driveway. Oh dear, oh yes, they had guests coming. Oh, but how reluctant he was to even move a finger out of place. Harry felt Draco's embrace tighten, and he shifted his head again to kiss his earlobe and murmur, "They're done." Lips trailed over Harry's neck in return, and he smiled.

"Who're they...?" Draco purred in response, laughing softly against Harry's skin. It gave him goose bumps.

"Mmm... the cookies, Draco. They're done, you can go nibble on some now if you like - though most are for the guests, don't forget," Harry said with amusement, tilting his head back against Draco's attention, exposing his neck. His sweet reward was a tender kiss next to his jaw, and he couldn’t help but moan softly with pleasure and press closer to Draco. A wistful sigh... now he half-wished Ron and Hermione weren’t coming over tonight - but Draco always had that effect on him, and he smiled despite himself. "We should tidy the place up a bit more," he added quietly. "They will be here in an hour or so."

"I know," Draco's sugar sweet voice answered him. Harry caught the hint of a very wistful smile as Draco pulled away from him, but leaned down briefly to share one last, soft kiss. Harry stood up and stretched, yawning like a lazy cat. Harry caught the glimpse of Draco watching him stretch and grinned. Such a seductive beast he was at times, though Harry knew that he shared the same thoughts and feelings as he did. As long as they were together, close, emotionally, physical things were just... petty, sometimes. Not needed. "Go on... I'll see to the living room," Draco added quietly.

Harry smiled softly, and ran his fingers through Draco's hair once more, then stepped away towards the kitchen. Such luck he had... to have found this kind of bond, this kind of love that was so deep, so complete. They truly worked as one being, as a team, as it should be. Harry paused on his way to the kitchen, to let his eyes linger over Draco again. He spoke through his eyes, through his gaze, and needed no words. He smiled, and then disappeared into the kitchen, listening to Draco gather up his notes from the piano.

Harry retrieved his oven mitts from the counter and quietly took the cookies from the oven, his thoughts still glued to Draco, as always. Though they'd been together for quite some time now, their feelings for each other never seemed to fade. Such complete love Harry felt for Draco, and how lucky they both were, to have found such safety, such sanctuary. Harry idly wondered how many people could truly understand that, feel that... that safety, that love, that completeness. With a soft, happy sigh, he started piling the cookies onto a platter, and paused, amused.

The cookies were shaped like little angels... he hadn’t even realized. Oh yes... yes, this was truly Heaven.