Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, any of the characters or plots contained therein, or anything to do with the franchise. Those belong to those who legally hold the rights. I just borrow the characters from time to time to have my own wicked way with them. I make no profit from this.
Author's Note: This is a SLASH fic. If you don't like that, please don't read it! This is my first Harry Potter fan-fiction, so please forgive me if it seems out of character at times. I love and appreciate reviews, but they're never a requirement for me to keep writing. I write because I love to write. However, if you do feel the need to flame this fic (And you have every right if you don't like it.) please refrain from foul language and attacks on my person. (Attacks on the work are just fine.) These kinds of flames do not get your point across any better than a civil flame. Thanks so much.
Sometimes I wonder what you'd do if I died in this war. Would you mourn for me? Of course you would. We've been best mates for years. Everyone in our world knows it. It would be expected. You'd mourn hard. But . . . you'd move on. You'd have to. Couldn't mourn my death forever. That would be selfish. If Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, The Golden Child, put his grief before his destiny, what's expected of him, it would be selfish. And you of all people cannot afford to be selfish. So, you'd probably get to mourn me for the time between my death and my funeral. A week maybe. Only a week to mourn the loss of a friendship, your first, almost ten years strong. But, that's okay. You can't be selfish. I would understand.
Would you avenge me, I wonder? Would you even have the chance to try? It comes down to selfishness yet again. Would it be too selfish of you to try to avenge me before you finished fulfilling your destiny? I like to think our frienship is enough that you'd be a little selfish and try to avenge me before you were able to completely heal. I like to think I'm at least that important to you.
I've never been able to tell you, but I know exactly what I'd do if you died. If Voldemort killed you.
I've known since our fourth year. I accidently walked in on you and Cedric in our dormitory when everyone else was supossed to be at evening meal. Neither of you ever saw me. You were both naked on the bed, Cedric on his back, his head thrown back, his eyes closed, his hands buried in your thick black hair. You were on your knees inbetween his spead legs, your hands gripping his hips. Strong hands. Holding him down as he tried to arch up into your sweet mouth. But, you wouldn't let him. You contolled his pleasure until he was moaning and begging you to let him release. Only then did you release his hips and reach up to tweak his nipples as he came in your mouth. He called you beautiful, brilliant, as you crawled back up his body and kissed him sweetly. He said you were learning fast and reached down between you to stroke your heavy cock. You shuddered and moaned in his arms as he sucked your neck and brought you quickly to climax. I slipped out quietly then.
It confused me, Harry, because for the first time in my life the only thing I could think was that I wanted to be that person with you on the bed. Not Cedric. But, what to do? How could I tell you? There was no way. So, I never told anyone. And I went on with my life as it was expected of a teenage boy. But, when I stroked myself at night, even when I lost my viginity to Lavender, the only person I could see when I came was you.
I wonder now a lot whether Cedric was the only man you'd ever consider doing what you did with. You dated my sister, after all, even though that's been over for years. Was Cedric a one time thing and you love women? Or are you like me and you long for the feel of a man in your arms? Though I wonder about myself sometimes, too. I still find women attractive, but the only person I want in my arms is you.
I've come to a conclusion and as I sit here watching you sleep it is only strengthened. I love you, Harry Potter. I have a feeling you will be the only person I ever really love.
Hermoine knows. We've sat for hours together late at night, usually after a battle. We hold each other and we talk. We wonder how no one has ever put together that though we flirt and pretend that we're circiling around each other, just waiting for the right time, we never actually connect. It's all a ruse. Always has been. To protect Viktor, whom she absolutely still adores, and to protect me from anyone finding out. My reasons are the more selfish, as you can tell. She tells me more and more often lately that I should just tell you, get it over with. But somehow, I can't.
And I never will. I won't put our friendship in danger just because it kills me just a little more every day to see you and not be able to hold you.
But, anyway, what I'd do if you died. First, I would kill the one who had killed you. Even if it was Voldemort himself, there would be nothing on this earth or in the heavens that could stop me from killing the one who took you from me. Then, for all the world to see, I would kiss your lips for the first time. I imagine they would be as sweet in death as I imagine them to be in life. Then, I would let myself die. Slowly. I would want to feel the pain.
It all sounds a bit morbid, doesn't it? I suposse that's just how it is.
The sun's coming up now. So, I'm going to finish this letter, address it to you, and hide it under my bed. If I do die in this war, I'd want you to know what I feel. Even if I'll never actually tell you myself. When I die, my mother will find the letter as she's crying over all the things that she has to pack away. I know she'll give it to you. And then you'll know. But, please don't hate me, Harry. I love you so much.
You're so beautiful, Harry, with the first rays of light slanting over your face. Just thought I'd tell you.
I love you,