To Be Loved

Diagon Alley

Diagon Alley was busy as it always was the week before students were to return to Hogwarts. Every which way students ran about embellished in robes of their particular houses. Brilliant colors were draped atop stores allowing all to see in plain view what lay within its walls. Young girls squealed over quite pretty dress robes, and boys gawked over the latest gear in the Quidditch shops. Witches and wizards cackled as they beamed at the overexcited students, indeed reminiscing their very own days at Hogwarts. Smiles were pressed onto every face that could be viewed, all seeming to be enjoying themselves; well, all excluding two.

Two boys lingered throughout the happy crowd with solemn expressions printed upon their faces. One of these boys was none other than the famous Harry Potter, whom typically enjoyed his visits to Diagon Alley at the notion of soon to be attending Hogwarts. He moved throughout the mob, collecting items that would be required from him during the year in stores of different sorts, unusually without as much as a twitch of a smile.

His magnificent emerald eyes scanned all those whom passed him. He was in search of one particular person, whom as he craved to see once more, he as well feared what the outcome of their confrontation would be.

His ears ignored the numerous calls of his name, being yelled to him from every which way. He was in a daze, in search of only one being. It wasn't until someone had pulled his arm to reel him around to face them, that the daze had been broken. He abruptly found a bushy-haired girl with large coffee eyes, a few sprinkled freckles, and a wide smile pressed across her face, beaming at him.

"Harry!" she screeched joyfully.

Her arms immediately coiled themselves about his shoulders, into a tight hug.

"Hi, Hermione," he choked beneath her tight hug.

"Oh, Harry! I haven't spoken to you in so long! How have you been? I've missed you. And I have so much to tell you!"

Harry looked at the girl for a moment, truly wishing to discuss his entire summer with the energized Hermione. Though Harry could not, he had to find what he had previously been in search for.

"Um, Hermione, can we talk later? I need to find Draco, have you seen him?"

"Oh yes of course, you'd be looking for him, wouldn't you?" she glumly sighed. "I haven't seen him, sorry, Harry. Um, I'm going to go catch up with Ron, see you, alright?"

"Bye, Hermione."

Immediately her legs sprang away, followed by her bushy hair and flowing robes. In the mere blink of an eye, Hermione had disappeared into the colorful crowd.

He felt somber once more, as guilt came racing back to him. His mind constantly wandered back to Thomas, the Muggle, and the betrayal to Draco. He remembered Thomas's touch, his kiss, the feeling of Thomas inside him. Harry had found refusal so difficult to such an attractive being, and as a result had spent the entire summer wrapped in Thomas's arms. He did not question his lust now, he had made a choice, yet he remained to feel a dagger drive into his heart at the mere thought of Draco.

Love was not the issue of his betrayal, for he loved Draco more deeply than any other creature. No, what possessed him was the deprivation of sex, and this he knew. He never doubted his love towards Draco, but now he began to wonder of Draco's love in return if he ever knew. Harry had failed to see into the future when his decision had been made. He had forgotten the guilt that would overcome once he peered upon Draco once more.

Harry's seventeenth birthday had come and gone. For this particular birthday he had received several magnificent gifts from each of his friends. This, as well, including Draco, whom had sent him numerous expensive supplies for Quidditch and his broomstick, along with an album of several collected pictures of him, and a bit of Harry and he together.

Though as all of the gifts received were equally nice, the one in which he appreciated most was from Thomas.

The two lustful boys had traveled to Thomas's apartment, each on a "sick day". It was here that Thomas had appeared in the doorway to the room, in which he had left Harry, in nothing but wrapping paper. The gold and red striped paper had been wrapped about his hips, covering his groin and arse; and placed where his cock to be, was a large red bow. Harry had enjoyed unwrapping his gift greatly. He, as well, found it very curious that Thomas had used such colors, as they were the colors of Gryffindor, his school house. When he had questioned Thomas on his color choice for the paper and bow, he simply replied that he had noticed Harry enjoyed those colors a great deal.

Harry had spent a beautiful summer with the handsome boy, yet as they had parted each agreed that they were to be no more. Harry knew he would never truly love Thomas as he did Draco. He only prayed that Draco would never know of his betrayal, if he ever found out Harry knew the result would be fatal.

A young silver headed boy sauntered aimlessly through the identical crowd as the previous. His face was contorted with what seemed to be intense pain and anguish for an unknown cause. His stormy eyes searched through the colorful people about him for someone, though he did not wish for them to appear.

He was accompanied by no one, and not a soul came to greet him. Everyone passed by his lonely figure, some exchanging glances to their companions, thinking similar thoughts of hatred towards the boy, as others merely threw soured looks at him. Yet he paid little mind to any other being than that in which he desperately hunted.

His cold eyes for once showed his grief, for once they were transparent to the feelings that rested deep within him. For this person he sought he had betrayed.

He still had been unsure at why he had done what he did; it was such a confusing night. Perhaps it was anger, the feeling of being deceived by the one he loved. Perhaps it was despair, watching the lips of the one being he gave his trust to press to another's. Or, perhaps it had been revenge, revenge against the cruel knife of unfaithfulness which cut a deep gash into his heart. Yet he had done what he had condemned, as well, and there was no getting around that horrid deed.

It had only been one night, yet that was all it took. There was no difference between one night and a thousand, betrayal was betrayal. To be adulterous to one whom is even the same is still wrong. There was no way he could justify his action that night.

His eyes suddenly found the meaning of their search, as they rested upon bright emerald eyes across the swarming street. Those emerald eyes had found him at the matching moment, and as well gazed upon him.

Two boys ceased movement in the vibrant mass of witches and wizards, as they watched one another in fear of confrontation. A boy with messy black locks and sad eyes watched another with sleek blonde hair and a guilty expression. Neither moved, neither made a gesture to the other, each merely stared blankly, unable to perform any other task.

Yet the crowd continued to push, and soon the boys could no longer stand still, each was forced away from the other's sight. Neither made a protest, and continued to move with the river of excited shoppers.

The blonde young man made his way to a door of a shop, which he made no effort to notice of what it consisted; he merely wished to escape from all of the people outside its walls. He stepped through the door, hearing the chimes, which his presence made, ring throughout the tiny store. His eyes remained lingering on that crowd, watching for the black-headed young man's emerald eyes to reappear.

Suddenly, an unwelcome long arm snaked around his neck, followed by a sly whisper into his ear of, "Ah, it seems Draco Malfoy has finally graced me with his presence once more."

Draco had no need to gaze back for the identity of the person, he knew from the initial touch. "Zabini, it seems you have found me, damn, I'll try to be more careful about that next time."

The arm relieved itself of Draco's neck, and the young man walked around to meet his dark eyes with the stormy gray. "So it's true then, you have been avoiding me. Why, may I ask? I don't believe our night together earlier this summer was all that bad. Or have you forgotten it already?"

The pale boy's features hardened into a scowl as his eye's lowered, "No, as much as I wish I could forget that night, I find myself incapable to do such a task. But as I said that following morning, I do not love you, and I never will."

Blaise gave a soft chuckle. "Do you think I care about love? Of course not! I'm young, what young man cares about love, it's the sex, Draco, sex is all I care for."

Draco eyed him, "What is it that you want?"

"You, Draco, I've missed you-"

"You've missed my cock!" snapped Draco, a bit too audibly, causing a few elderly women to stare at the two of them.

"Yes, I'm glad you've caught on to that part. But I as well miss you," he took Draco into an unexpected embrace, forcing his lips onto Draco's. Yet, the blonde boy pushed away, wiggling out of the dark haired young man's strong embrace, shoving him a bit.

"You are a thick bloke, aren't you? Never able to take a hint, I don't want you! And no matter how you feel towards me that will never change. Now please, do not speak to me again," spat Draco.

Blaise's nostrils flared, he lowered his eyes. "You don't know what you want. What are you going to do now? Go running back to that half-blood git, Potter? He put your father in Azkaban! Mind it was for a brief time, but he still went, and now is forced into hiding. You have betrayed not only your family, but the Dark Lord himself, for what? A few good shags? I still to this day am amazed you are still alive! I do not know the Dark Lord's intentions for you, but I do know that by choosing me you will at least save yourself! You don't seem to understand the gravity of your relationship with him. If you remain with him it could be fatal. And besides he betrayed you, why do you put yourself at risk with someone who can't even remain faithful to you for one summer?"

Draco's eyes sunk, he gazed off across the street, where upon he found two dazzling emerald eyes watching him sadly. "Harry," Draco whispered.

Blaise followed Draco's gaze and he too saw Harry's depressed eyes. "It's for the best Draco, you have to forget him."

Draco did not listen, however. His feet carried him out the door, and to the side of the street that Harry stood across.

Harry's black locks swerved as his head turned the opposite direction of Draco, which was abruptly followed by his slender body. His jeans bunched, as his legs launched into a sprint.

"Wait!" cried Draco as he too began to run.

Despite Harry's attempt, Draco was a faster runner, with his sleek figure perfectly designed to be aerodynamic. After a mere few feet Draco's fingers had been laced into Harry's shirt, forcing his escape attempt to be terminated.

"I don't wish to speak with you!" spoke Harry in a low tone, once he had been involuntarily turned towards Draco.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Draco demanded.

Harry's emerald eyes shot a deep look into the cloudy eyes before him. Draco realized that Harry knew, he knew about Blaise, he knew about his betrayal. He felt fear strike his heart, his mouth dropped, his eyes widened.

"Nothing," grumbled Harry.

The two stood still for a moment, feeling incredibly awkward, and each one's guilt building up tremendously every passing moment. Draco let a small chuckle out, "An entire summer deprived of one another, and we have nothing to speak of."

Harry smiled. "I've missed you."

Draco's grin depleted. "Have you?"

That gesture sent chills down Harry's spin, his face froze. Yet he shook himself free of his fear, there was no possible way Draco could know. His arms extended, his fingers took grasp of Draco's miniscule waist, and he pulled the flaxen boy into a passionate kiss. Their arms wrapped around each other, their pelvises joined together, their mouths locked.

Each of the boys forgot of their guilt, their betrayal. And there they stood, on the side of the street, kissing one another, surrounded by a busy crowd that paid little attention to either of them.