Walking Between Stones

Part 5 - Chasing the Butterfly

It is the fourteenth day of my self-prescribed imprisonment, precisely two weeks to the day since my encounter with Draco, and I know I can not stay here another night.

A heat wave has descended upon the city and I feel trapped in its ever suffocating grip. I walk from room to room, like a bird flitting nervously between the branches of a tree. All of these empty days and nights are trying to drive me from my flat. I want to yell, if only to break the agonizing monotony of the silence.

I need to get out - now.

I throw a light shirt over my previously bare chest and bolt from my cage. My body knows where I'm going even before my brain can throw back at me in protest.

The run-down classroom is exactly the same as the last time I saw it; the constant hum of the harsh fluorescent lights and the continuous milling of lost and empty souls, clutching onto their cups of coffee as if it holds together the fading pieces of their dignity.

As I see it, a support group for the dying is like a proffered stepladder - it's there to help you up or it becomes the last solid surface you hold on to before dropping of the end.

Again I sit on the opposite side of the circle from the 'do-gooder'. I don't even remember his name, not that it matters, it was just some generic title to match his generic appearance. He spouts the same old bullshit spiel as the last time, about how only you are in charge of you're destiny, blah, blah, blah...

When he reaches the part about how this group is medicine for the soul I roll my eyes and glance at the clock. Perfect - it's broken.

I don't know why I'm even here...

A muffled snort to my left recaptures my attention. I look over and see to my surprise that a man, a little younger than myself, is sitting beside me and trying his best not to laugh. A smile pulls at the corners of my mouth as I raise a brow in interest.

The man instantly feels my gaze upon him and glances at me, looking sheepish and apologetic.

I incline my head towards the do-gooder and roll my eyes.

The man immediately breaks out into a grin and nods, then, to my absolute amazement, pushes back his chair, stands, and proceeds towards the exit. Ryan (huh...I do remember his name), has stopped talking and is looking more than a little put-out as every eye turns to stare. My daring friend turns in the doorway and looks back at me expectantly, waiting.

It's my move.

I smile and rise to join him. Neither of us bothers to glance back as we depart from the decrepit city building together. This time I know it is the last visit I will ever make to this sorry group of the damned. As we reach the street we are hit with the reminder of the ever-present heat wave, the heavy air causing my clothes to immediately cling to my body.

"So..."

I turn to the young man and watch as he rakes a hand through his thick black hair.

"Do you want to go for a drink?" he asks.

Still on a high from our bold departure, and from experiencing my first true smile in over a month, I suggest we have that drink over at my place. He eagerly agrees.

We meander slowly along the empty city streets, an easy feeling of compatibility making either conversation or silence quite comfortable. I soon find out that my companions' name is Clinio. He is twenty-four years old, resides in Bristol, and was once engaged to a sweet girl by the name of Teodelina, but broke it off when he just couldn't face living a lie for the rest of his life. Consequently he was ostracized from his family and from his community. He fled to London, hoping to attend University here.

"What are you planning to study?" I ask, wiping the sweat from the back of my neck as we near my flat.

"Politics."

I nod interestedly and then proceed to tell him everything about myself, well, everything that I'm willing to share with a Muggle about the life of one Harry James Potter - which isn't much. Although I have cut all ties to the wizarding world, I still feel protective of it and would never wish to expose it on any account.

I unlock my front door and apologize for the mess before leading him inside.

"How old are you?" Clinio asks without preamble.

"I turned thirty a fortnight ago."

"Hijo de puta," he replies in surprise. "You don't look that old, hombre."

"Thanks." I smile wryly. "What do you want to drink?" I pull open my fridge and peer through its meagre supplies. "I don't have much."

"Got any Tequila?"

I raise my head and look at him over the top of the door. "Alcohol?"

Clinio leans back against the kitchen counter, his thumbs hooked into the back pocket of his jeans. "Yeah, why not?"

"It's just - haven't you spoken to a doctor yet?" I ask, wondering if the boy was completely unaware of the everyday dangers for HIV positive patients.

Clinio smiles and walks towards me, predatory like. "Just forget about the drink, amante. You haven't shown me the rest of your place yet, how about a tour?" He kicks the fridge door shut and leans in towards me.

"Erm..." I automatically take a step back. Even though my body may very well want it, I'm not sure I'm quite ready to start up any sort of physical relationship yet. "The lounge is this way..."

"I'm really only interested in one room." Clinio raises one hand to caress my cheek.

My eyes flutter shut at the foreign feeling of another human being's touch. It's been so long, and at least with Clinio I don't have to worry about infecting him. God, it's been so long...

Clinio's lips on my neck jolt me from a seduced haze of bliss, and reality comes crashing down upon me. Deep down I know I'm not ready, especially for something that would most likely turn out to be a one night stand. I need to be in a relationship, I need security, but most of all I just need someone to be there with me through it all. To not only be a lover, or the tawdry title of 'boyfriend,' but to be a life partner in every sense of the word. If I can't have that then I'd rather have nothing. This feels wrong and somehow causes me to feel even lonelier.

"I can't." I pull away and look him in the eye. "I'm sorry, it's just that it's too soon for me."

"Too soon?" Clinio murmurs, unperturbed. "It's okay, Harry."

"No, I mean it." I take another step back and take a hold of his wrist to stop him from touching me further. "I only just found out that I was positive this month and I'm really not interested in a one-night stand."

"But I need you to, hombre," he continues persistently, pleading. "You're my saviour."

"Your what?"

Clinio smiles. "You're the one who is going to set me free."

"From what?" Now I'm glad I stopped this right from the beginning. The sudden change in his tone was strange and unsettling.

"From AIDS."

I frown and silently beg this boy to start making some sense. "What are you talking about, Clinio? How can I set you free from AIDS?"

"Not from AIDS but from the anxiety of getting it."

His words hit me like a slap in the face. "You're not HIV positive?"

He shakes his head, still smiling.

"You're completely clean?"

A nod.

"And you want me to give you...it?"

Another nod.

I feel angry and...and used. "Were you going to tell me?" I demand.

"Of course, amigo."

I don't believe him for a minute. "I want you to leave now."

"Aw, come on-"

"No." I pull him by the wrist towards the door, thankfully he doesn't try to stop me. "You're sick, you need to get help."

Clinio halts in the doorway. "You're so naïve, man. Do you know how many groups there are out there that exist only to spread the goodwill around?"

"Goodwill?" I repeat incredulously. "Are you mad? This isn't something you want. This is a death sentence."

"It's better to get it over with so that you're free to live your life without worrying about it every single second that you're with another man."

"Listen to me, Clinio, you're young, you're healthy, you don't really know what you're saying. You don't want this, trust me. Do you really want to die?"

Clinio smiles again, as if he knows just a little bit more about the workings of the real world, which maybe he does. "It's okay, Harry. I can find someone else."

"Wait." I grab onto his arm as he turns away, the smooth silk of his shirt sliding through my fingers. "Please don't do this. Do you think having AIDS has made my sex life any better? Because honestly it's just the opposite. I'm never in the mood and nobody would be interested in me anyway."

Clinio smiles again, humouring me, patronising me. I half expect him to pat me on the head. "Man, AIDS doesn't make you less desirable, that's all in your mind. You're hot but you don't think anybody wants you because maybe you don't even want you. The disease is in your body, not your soul."

I try to smile, but my mouth isn't quite working right. "You sound like Ryan. I thought you didn't believe in that bullshit?"

This time Clinio settles for patting my shoulder. "I don't believe in other people's theories of health and love, but I do know that we can teach each other a lot about life."

"And you're willing to cut yours short?" I persist.

"Hey, maybe this will force me to live it right." Clinio flashes me one more indulgent smile before turning and walking away.

"Just...just think about it!" I call out lamely.

Clinio raises an arm and waves over his shoulder. Then he is gone.

I slowly close the door and lean my forehead against the rough wood. I suddenly yearn for the wizarding world again; the simplicity of good and evil, black and white, friends and enemies. This man has shaken my perception of this world, shaken my way of thinking, of living, of breathing.

I turn around and slide down to the floor, my back resting against the door and my eyes closed, shutting out this strange reality that I don't understand anymore.

I can't believe there are people out there who are trying acquire the nightmare that I have been living - on purpose. Maybe AIDS isn't holding me back, so what if it is me? But besides these people like Clinio who are out of their minds, who would truly want a positive lover? I know the alternative would be far more depressing then staying at home and not putting myself out there.

When I was in the wizarding world people would form opinions of me before they'd even met me just because of who I am. It's the same with this - people will either distance themselves or become sickeningly sympathetic. There's no in between, no middle ground on which I can stand and be happy about who I am.

Even Ron and Hermione eventually got sick of me, of constantly being plagued by the problems that would crop up due to me and my fucking celebrity. Only Draco seemed to be unfazed by it all, but even he apparently has his limits.

I have come to the conclusion that both worlds are not for me. I can't handle them and they can't handle me, which doesn't really leave me with a hell of a lot.

The hot slide of a single tear is the only reminder that I'm still sitting on this dirty kitchen floor in my empty flat in the newly unfathomable Muggle world. AIDS isn't going to beat me, life is.

I can't think about this anymore, I'm just so fucking tired of it all...