A Magic Called Love

A Magic Called Love

Firedragon_luver

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I have seen them moved in, in that apartment - one pale man and the other tanned. They arrived riding a cab with only one box with them. I was amazed as to how two young men could move into a bare condo with only a single furniture box. I just shrugged it off, thinking teens, and was about to go on folding my clothes when I heard one of them shriek.

Alarmed, I turned around only to find them rubbing their foreheads, bent over their house key. The tanned one with wild black hair smiled a bit, kissing the other boy lightly on the lips. Their eyes sparkled with mischief and something deeper.

I have seen a pattern between the two as the days passed into weeks, weeks into months. Whenever they venture out from the house, they always do so separately. The pale one, Draco, as the other boy - Harry, I think - calls him, would always wear a stylish hat with matching glasses. Harry merely lets his hair fall over his face, the tips of his bangs obscured by large, square glasses. Whenever they return at night they do so separately as well, still wearing their disguises.

During evenings, I almost always find myself sitting in front of their apartment and staring directly at their window. I never know why I do - it's just...there's something in me that says the sparkling window is theirs. Illuminated by warm and relaxing lights of various colors, they're strange lights seem to relate to the odd way of their living.

During weekends they love to stroll around the block together, and in the cold I can never quite see their faces - Harry wears a gold and crimson scarf that reaches the bridge of his nose, and Draco seems to favor green and silver scarves which he wraps around his jaw line and over his ears.

They love strolling hand-in-hand, seeming to only notice each other as they walk down the street, staring into each other's eyes. It gives me pangs of envy just watching them. For love so radiant, so consuming and intense I would die for. It seems that they know nearly no other person living around them, that they only know each other, and know that they are together.

Whenever I stare at their window, I like to fancy that I share with them the love and peace emanating from their small home. But tonight, this night is different. It had started when I heard an angry shout, one that mercilessly beat back the warmth from that window, echoed by louder and louder shouts and yells, small crashes and thuds. A door slammed, and all went silent. One of them was coming down to the street, I just knew it.

I waited for that person, watching Draco stride haughtily from the stone, snow covered steps, hair nearly as wild and unruly as Harry's, cheeks glittering with tears. He didn't spare a single glance in my direction, he only strode onwards towards the street as if it was the only place in the world he'd like to be. I turned up my face to see the lights of his condo flicker off, and when I turned back to Draco, he was gone.

I wondered how such love the two shared could possibly be shattered, and grieved at the thought that it could truly be gone. Maybe it is true that love can only last with faith and trust. It is said that love conquers all - so Draco would be back. I knew it.

The next morning I woke up feeling bereft, and I waited for Draco to come back - I felt some sort of helpless need for them to make up, as if I was addicted to the radiance of their love. But instead of the fair boy, I encountered two strange men - one old with a long white beard that reached the belt of his...robes, and the other slightly younger, somewhere in the mid forties or so, greasy-haired and unpleasant looking. What strange men, I thought.

I was standing a bit back, and had to squint through the snow to see Harry bounding down the steps towards them like a child, looking excited and slightly apprehensive. They stood huddled against the biting wind for a moment before Harry gave a firm nod. Then they were gone. It was as if someone had simply erased them from the sidewalk, a small *pop* left as the only evidence of their disappearance. Feeling befuddled and confused, I wandered to my bed and decided I was in sore need of a nap.

Every day I would take my regular place in front of their grungy apartment, hoping against hope for their light to flicker on, or for them to walk down the stone steps, holding each other's hands. I stood up, ready to find some better shelter from the weather when I finally saw Draco wandering towards the doors of his apartment. He looked beyond tired, his face blank and scarred, his green clothes in shreds. Slowly he went to their apartment; it took him a while before he managed to twist the knob of the main gate and go inside.

I looked up and waited for...something. I was startled, though, by the thunder that rolled in the sky, followed by a howl of pain and remorse. I could feel Draco's agony and longing in his cry, a longing for someone or something lost forever. The heavens suddenly opened and rain began to pour onto the snow, turning it to mush. Above the flashes of lightning and through the rolls of thunder an attack of the rain was heard. The wretched sobs continue coming from that apartment window - the lights no longer glowing and colorful, but ominous and frightening.

The very next day I saw a red-haired boy and a bushy brown-haired girl. They seemed kind and familiar. The red-haired boy I recognized - I believe he was the designated driver for Draco whenever he got drunk, which wasn't all that uncommon of an occurrence. I overheard them arguing if this was Draco's place or not, but after a while of discussion, they went in.

What happened on that night have broken him, to see him like this, he was never like this, never. I hoped and wished that he would survive whatever he is going thru right now. Love, oh yes love, it can make you or break you, it can make you strong or make you weak, it can give you hope or take it away. I just wish that Draco had left even just a small amount of love for himself. If only Harry could see him now he would be hurt. Draco gave all his love for Harry and left none for himself. I just hope that the love Draco holds for Harry is strong enough to help him go through all the pain and tests of life. He may choose to love or not love again, but it is never a choice to destroy one's self because it would also mean destroying the love they had built for each other.

He never truly recovered - he still drinks, but it has not been like that time so many seasons ago when Harry left him. He no longer comes home drunk, but always in his hand is a bottle of liquor. I saw behind his slow recovery his two friends. It had been some time before I noticed that he was no longer bringing bottles home with him, but papers, huge bulks of them. And then just last week I saw him running, again from nowhere, straight to his place, a wide grin plastered on his face. He seemed finally happy - it had been so long since I'd seen him smile like that. Finally, as he skidded to a halt in front of the gate, he flung open the doors and raced to the stone steps, now covered with fallen leaves. "You're back!" he cried. From the shadows stepped Harry, who was smiling, as well.

Today I watch them move out. It seems just like yesterday when I was watching them carry that strange little box into their new apartment. They were wearing those bright smiles on their faces, but I could see that this time they were much brighter and much happier, and I could see that their love for each other had moved a step forward - maybe, possibly, they had worked out their differences, at last.

Draco helped Harry into the cab before he put that same small moving box into the trunk. Before Draco shut the lid he looked at me, looked at me as if he knew me personally. His smile widened as he brought a hand up over his shoulder as if to wave, but instead waggled his fingers at me. On his fourth finger was a small golden band.

Yes, I thought, they have taken their love one step forward. I smiled at him, taking my only belonging - the sleeping bag that I am lying on - and moved out. This place would not be the same for me. Not without those two. Without Draco and Harry there would be no reason to stay here, anymore.

Yes, love sometimes is not enough because it is not perfect. But because of love we can hold on or move on. Because of love we hope, or wait to hope; because of love we have a reason to believe and trust. Because of love, we believe in magic, a very powerful magic. A magic called love.