A/N: Many thanks to Lori, for being so super fantastic. Oh, and for beta'ing this for me! Title taken from the title of a Led Zeppelin song: What is and What Should Never Be. Not only because I think the title fits, but because it's a good song. I don't know if this will go past the one chapter, but if it does, I'll update here rather than list it as a new story.
"I am not gay, Potter. I'm refined, I'm well-mannered, and I'm delicate. I can't help that I'm not a lumbering brute."
"Wait, what does any of that have to do with being gay?"
"Well, obviously, you think I'm bent because I'm petite and well-dressed…"
"No, Malfoy, I know you're gay because you're always looking at men's arses."
Harry's beer sloshed over the rim, as he used that hand to indicate a man across the pub.
"Him, for example. When he walked by, you couldn't take your eyes off him."
"I was not staring, Potter."
"Yes, you were."
"No, you were staring at him."
Harry laughed, took another drink of the amber liquid, and nodded.
"Yeah, I looked. But, my sexuality isn't up for debate. We both know I'm as bent as they come."
"My sexuality isn't up for debate either, Potter."
"You're right, it isn't. I know you're gay, even if you won't admit it, so what's there to discuss?"
They'd had this conversation so many times, and Draco was sick of it. Why did Potter insist on Draco saying it aloud? He was right, of course, the stupid bugger. But, Draco hadn't told his parents, and didn't intend to do so. Therefore, he had no interest in announcing it to Potter.
He was doing what every pure blood wizard in his situation did. He was marrying a nice girl, he would suffer through the intimacies required to conceive a child, only then, he'd find his gratification on the side.
"Have it your way," Draco shrugged noncommittally, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you have a reason for wanting me to be a ponce."
Draco was extremely satisfied when Harry blushed, and took a rather large gulp from his almost empty glass.
"Interested, Potter?" Draco arched an eyebrow at the man across from him and smirked. It felt good to turn the tables.
"You wish." But, Potter didn't sound as confident anymore.
"I think you are, Potter. But, all this wishful thinking won't change anything. I'm getting married tomorrow, and that's that."
"My wishful thinking, or yours?" And some of that self-assurance was creeping back into Potter's voice.
Instead of answering, Draco said, "Have to use the loo."
He did need to relieve himself, but he also needed to be out of Potter's company for a bit. It was something he'd often found himself doing over the last few years.
Since Potter's very public, and very nasty split with Ginevra, He and Draco had been spending a lot more time together. Potter liked to say they were 'Best Enemies,' and Draco supposed it was true. They still argued more often than not, and sometimes still hexed each other, but they got together once or twice a week regardless. Draco was sure the only reason he spent any time with the obnoxious man was because he was a glutton for punishment.
He detested everything about Potter. He hated Potter's stupid glasses, hated those infuriatingly green eyes, hated those quirky lips, hated his broad chest, hated his pert arse, hated his lean, muscled thighs, hated the denims that clung so teasingly to every inch of the man's bottom half… Yeah, he'd definitely had too much to drink.
He sighed, as the sound of his piss hitting the porcelain filled the loo. As soon as he was done, he was going to zip up, march out there, and tell Potter he was an idiot - just because he felt like it - then go home. Tomorrow was a big day, and he needed plenty of rest to look his best.
The door behind him opened, and thinking Potter had followed him, Draco teased, "I'm not going home with you, so just get that out of your head."
"Oh, well, in that case, maybe we could go to yours? I thought dinner would be in order first, but if you don't mind skipping the formality, neither do I."
That voice was decidedly not Potter's, and Draco almost upset the perfect arch of his stream, as he turned to see who'd entered the room.
The man from the bar, the one Harry had ogled, and then accused Draco of wanting. The look on the man's face indicated he hadn't been kidding, and Draco groaned. Sure, the man had a rather nice arse, but he wasn't looking to pull tonight. Not only did it seem wrong to engage in a shag on the night before his nuptials, but he wasn't exactly sure he was ready to be physical with another man just yet.
"Yeah, that isn't going to happen. But, that bloke I'm sitting with? He might be interested, why don't you give him a try."
In theory, it sounded like a good plan, but when the man said, "Already asked, and he turned me down," Draco felt rage begin to well up in his chest.
"Wait, so you saw us together, pegged us as bent, waited until we separated, then asked each of us out? What kind of low-life scum are you? How'd you know the two of us aren't a couple?"
The man shrugged, and stepped up to the sink to wash his hands.
"I didn't. But, I figured it was worth a shot."
Just as Draco was about to give the man ten kinds of hell for - Draco wasn't sure what, but he was positive it had something to do with Harry, Harry burst through the bathroom door. And, why was it Draco always started thinking of Potter as Harry when he'd had a few too many drinks? Well, that was something else he liked to pretend he didn't know.
Upon seeing Harry enter the room, Mr. Nice Arse But Not The Arse Draco Wanted, fled. Draco was also a bit too honest with himself after he'd consumed too much alcohol. But, he was never too honest with Harry, if anything, he closed himself off more when he was drunk. Once he was inebriated, he could admit to himself just how much he didn't despise Harry. And, that was dangerous. Not his lack of self-denial, but how much he liked the other man, and the power Harry would have over him if Draco relented.
Harry's eyes seemed to burn into the back of the man's head as the door closed behind him. But, when he turned to Draco, he only smiled faintly, and stepped up to relieve himself as well.
"Sorry, had to pee too."
"Hm." Something about that was wrong, but not able to figure out what. Draco turned the sink on very low, and ran his hands slowly through the warm water. He heard the telltale tinkle of Harry beginning to urinate, but it was a weak sound, and it didn't last long. Then, he realized why Harry needing to pee just then was odd. Harry had gone to the loo right before Mr. Not The Right Arse had walked in the building.
As Harry zipped up, Draco spun around to face him.
"You didn't have to pee."
"Um, yes I did."
"No you didn't; you saw him coming in here, and it bothered you."
"You are delusional, Malfoy." Harry made as if to step up to the sink, but Draco snatched his hand, and pulled him back so that they were facing each other again. He needed to see Harry's face for this.
"Jealous, Potter?" This was always how they'd gotten to the bottom of things. A simple question, always answered the same way. But, Harry was as transparent as a sheet of glass, and though Draco knew what the man would say, it was what he didn't say that sometimes mattered the most.
Harry flushed, his eyes darted to the right in order to break eye contact, and he worried his bottom lip for a moment before speaking.
With his body language, both before and after speaking, he responded with more sincerity than mere words could have allowed for.
Harry tried to pull his hand free, but Draco held firm.
"You are. You really are."
No longer thinking about propriety, or his fiancé, Draco proceeded to push Harry backward, slowly and forcefully, until Harry's back was solidly resting against the - probably dirty - bathroom wall, and they were almost nose to nose.
"Are you only jealous of him? Or have you felt this way before? Does it bother you that I'm getting married tomorrow? I'll bet you just hate her, don't you? She gets everything you want, and you hate her for it."
He'd meant it to sound taunting and cruel, but his voice betrayed him, and he could hear the longing there. Just as he'd feared, Harry heard it as well. But, Harry was a man of action, and didn't waste time on words.
He pressed forward, covering the distance between their mouths, and captured Draco's lips, his tongue just barely coming out to run along the seam of Draco's mouth. Then, he pulled back, and rather than the smirk Draco had been expecting, a soft smile was tugging at the corners of Harry's lips.
"I'm not jealous of her, Draco." The way he said Draco's name, as if he uttered it a thousand times before sent shivers down Draco's spine - and Draco could just see it, the two of them laughing together, squabbling over a game of chess, chasing each other playfully around a small quidditch pitch… All the times Harry could say Draco's name just like that flashed through his mind. Then, unbidden, a slow moving picture presented itself. Harry sitting astride his lap, screaming Draco's name in the throes of ecstasy.
"I'm not jealous of her, because, unlike her, I know what you really need, and I can give it to you. That's something she could never hope for. Draco…"
Harry's hand lifted from the wall he'd almost seemed cemented to, and his fingers brushed lightly over Draco's neck. Draco heard himself moan, but had no way of controlling his vocalization.
"Let me, Draco. Let me be what you need," and more softly than ever before, more tenderly than either of them had asked in the past, Harry uttered "Scared, Malfoy?"
Draco's breath caught, both at Harry's tone, and with the knowledge of what his answer would be. It didn't matter that Draco had never been with another man, had really only fantasized about the possibility of maybe or one day. There was only one choice, one thing he could say.
For a moment, Harry stood frozen, as still as a statue. Then, before Draco could register what was happening, he felt the almost-but-not-quite painful yank of Side Along Apparition behind his navel, as he was squeezed through a tunnel, and deposited on the other side - in Harry's bedroom. Or, he assumed it was Harry's, and not some random bedroom; he'd never had the pleasure of seeing the man's most intimate space.
"Clothes off, now." Alone, the words would have been a command, but the whine in Harry's voice turned them into a plea.
Draco's head swam, as Harry tugged on Draco's jumper, tossing it somewhere to their left when he finally worked it free of Draco's body. They were both still rather intoxicated. Draco knew they had to be, because otherwise, Harry never would have asked, and Draco never would have acquiesced. Draco normally displayed more control over his faculties than this, but it was liberating. What he'd been - in the dark of night, and only in the safety of his own bed - dreaming of was being offered to him, and he was taking it. He'd never felt so free.
He jerked at the buttons on Harry's shirt at a frenzied pace, nipping and sucking at every new spot of skin that was revealed to him. Harry was slightly muscled, deeply tanned, and just a bit hairy. When Draco's fingers skimmed over Harry's belly, he felt the flesh quivering, and knew Harry wanted this as much as he did.
Harry's belt proved a bit difficult, but between the two of them, they managed to get the wretched thing unfastened. The rest of their clothing was removed in a flurry of curses, and unsteady fumbling. Then Harry spent several long minutes eyeing Draco, letting his gaze wander lingeringly over every inch of Draco's pale skin. It would have been disconcerting, the way Harry was looking at him, if not for the hunger blazing in Harry's eyes.
"I knew you'd be a work of art. Beautiful."
Draco wanted to protest that he was most certainly not beautiful - handsome, maybe, but beautiful was such an effeminate word - but Harry pulled him into a kiss before he could say anything. Then, under the pressure of Harry's mouth, and the slide of his tongue, his complaint died. If Harry wanted to call him beautiful, that was fine, as long as he kept kissing him, just like this.
When Harry pulled away, and started moving them toward the bed, the fog lifted in Draco's head, and he had a moment of clarity. In all the years he'd known Harry, really known the man, he'd never known Harry to have a one off. And, Draco would know, because, in his attempts to get Draco to admit to being gay, Harry had detailed every sexual encounter he'd had. They'd all been with boyfriends.
"Potter, wait…" Draco closed his eyes for a moment, and tried to curb his rising arousal.
Harry moved in close again, and laid several wet kisses on Draco's neck.
"Shh, don't worry, I promise this will be good. I know you're a vir-"
"I'm not a virgin, Potter. I've had lovers before."
"Only women though, right?" When Draco reluctantly nodded - he hated admitting that Harry had more experience in this area than he did - Harry continued, "So, it's your first time. We'll go slow, and if you aren't comfortable, we'll stop. It's as easy as that."
Sighing, Draco let his head fall onto Harry's bare shoulder.
"No, it's not. This can't change anything, Potter. I need you to know, that if we do this, I'm still getting married tomorrow."
He expected Harry to push him away, to yell at him, or possibly even laugh at his dedication to his responsibilities, but that did not happen.
Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's waist, and said, "I know. I just didn't want you to get married not knowing, you know? I want you to know what you're giving up, because you'll not find what you want, what you crave, in that life. Is it selfish that I want your first time to be with me? Is it horrible that I'm hoping you'll be thinking of me every time she fails to satisfy you? Maybe I'm not the man for you, but I want to be. And, I'm praying that if you get a taste of us together, just maybe, one of these days, you'll come back to me."
Harry gasped when Draco said his first name.
"Say it again."
When he did, Harry suddenly tongued his ear, causing it to come out on a moan.
"I don't care how long it takes, and I don't care who I'm with, I promise you, right now, that when you decide you're ready - and you will - if it's me you want, just tell me. I'll do everything in my power to make this as easy for you as possible. Hell, we'll move to Siberia if we have to. Do you hear me, Draco? Do you understand?"
"Good. Now, come to the bed? Please? I've been waiting so long for this."
This time, when Harry pulled him toward the bed, Draco went willingly. When Harry pushed him down, then crawled on top of him, Draco groaned.
"How long have you been waiting?" It wasn't really the time for talking, but Draco badly wanted to know.
Harry seemed to consider him for a moment, then, slowly lowered his groin to Draco's, intently watching Draco's face.
It was a moment that Draco would never forget. Somehow, Harry had managed to keep their bottom halves apart until then, and Draco was eternally grateful. He'd calmed down during their talk, but had Harry done this earlier, Draco would have horribly embarrassed himself. The long, hard length of Harry's cock pressed into his own, and it felt more right than anything ever had with his previous lovers. He could feel the blood rushing through the heated flesh twitching just to the left of his own. There was wetness leaking into the junction of his thigh and his crotch, and Draco's mouth watered at the thought of tasting it. It was pure perfection.
"You won't believe me if I tell you."
For a second, Draco was confused. Then he remembered the question he'd asked, and not wanting to seem dense, forced his vocal chords to work.
Harry leaned his head down, putting his mouth directly next to Draco's ear, and said, "Since Sixth Year. Did you ever wonder why I used a curse on you that I wasn't sure of? It wasn't really something someone like me would do, was it? I wasn't myself that night, Draco. I saw you standing there, crying and anguished, and I wanted to hold you. I wanted to kiss you. I wanted to fuck you so thoroughly that you'd forget anything had ever made you sad. That was the night I realized I was gay. Merlin, I hated you for making me feel like that. I… I wanted to hurt you, Draco. But, I was sorry the instant I saw you covered in blood. I… I never meant to-"
Harry's voice was becoming raspy, and Draco could feel a new kind of tension in the body on top of him. Harry was close to tears. Draco desperately wanted to get them back to what they'd been doing, and hurried to console Harry.
"I was going to cast an Unforgivable, Harry. I would have done it, don't doubt that. You were only protecting yourself. And, I'm sorry about, you know, the whole gay thing."
Harry chuckled against the side of Draco's face, "You didn't make me gay, Draco. You just made me realize it. Besides, I don't mind being gay; I quite enjoy it, actually. And, even if you owed me an apology, you've more than made up for it. Do you know how many times you've made me come? I can't even begin to count the number of times I've wanked to you. So, we're even."
He imagined Harry, red faced, sweaty, moaning, and wanking furiously to thoughts of him…
"I think I'd like to see that."
Harry laughed again, low and dark, and nuzzled further into Draco's neck.
"I'm going to do so much better than that."
And he did. Harry moved over Draco's body as if he'd been doing it since the beginning of time. He bit softly at Draco's throat, licked at his collarbones, and stopped over Draco's nipples, teasing gently with his lips, before sucking hard.
Draco arched, when he felt the barest hint of Harry's teeth raking over one of his little buds. Then Harry moved lower, tonguing Draco's navel, and lapping at the skin around it. Every time Harry moved to a new spot, Draco experienced a new sensation.
It was amazing. None of his other lovers had every taken such time with him, no one had ever handled him with such care and dedication to his pleasure. Harry seemed only to be concerned about Draco, and figuring out what would feel good to him. And, everything Harry did felt good.
But, the best, by far, was when Harry's soft, moist, warm lips closed around the head of his cock. Some time, in the midst of the best blowjob he'd ever received, Draco became conscious of the fact that he was no longer drunk. He could still feel the small buzz of alcohol at the edges of his mind, but he was sobering fast. It didn't matter though, Harry had found a new way to force Draco into honesty.
When Draco came, shouting, shuddering, and tangling his hands roughly in Harry's brown locks, he knew he was ruined. He could no longer lie to himself. He'd never want another man, and the thought of going to his marriage bed sickened him.
Harry moved back up his body, kissing gently, and rubbing soothingly at Draco's flanks.
"Okay?" Harry asked.
Draco took in the flush adorning Harry's face, the puffiness of his lips, and the huge smile stretching the man's mouth.
Harry grinned wider, and without warning, pressed his lips to Draco's.
Draco's first reaction was utter disgust. Harry had just had a mouthful of Draco's semen, and there was just something wrong about tasting yourself. But, when Harry's tongue slipped into his mouth, Draco found it to be a bit of a turn on. Harry's mouth tasted of Draco. He'd marked Harry's mouth as his, claimed it with his release, and he was tasting the proof of that. When he caught himself diving deeper, seeking out every trace he could find, he pulled away, mortified.
"Oh, sorry, I-"
"Don't say you're sorry, I liked it."
Harry reached over and fiddled in a drawer beside the bed, and pulled back holding a tube.
"Look, there's no smooth way to ask this, so I'm just going to say it. I really don't mind either way, but one of us-"
"I know how this works, Potter." Draco snapped, his nerves getting the best of him.
"Oh, do you? Well, then, by all means, tell me how you want to do this?"
Draco was instantly remorseful for his outburst. He did know how two men had sex, but that was it. He wasn't sure how to arrange himself, or who should be on top. Would it be easier for Harry if Draco sat on him? Or, maybe Draco should get on his knees… No, it would be best - loathe as he was to do it - to apologize, and admit his shortcomings.
"I'm sorry. I'm a little nervous, and you know I get snippy. I have no idea how this works. I mean, I have a general idea, but…"
Harry smiled, and smoothed Draco's hair back, where it had fallen in his eyes.
"Okay, like I was saying, if you want to be on top, I can talk you through it. Of course, we'll have to wait a few minutes, but trust me, I'll enjoy getting you hard again. And, I can promise I'll enjoy having you inside me."
Draco's shock would not be contained.
"You-you'd do… You'd let me…"
"Of course. You didn't think I was just going to assume you'd want me to fuck you, did you? I know you've never done this before, and I know how intimidating that can be. So, I thought it might be easier-"
But, Draco firmly shook his head. He knew how it felt to be inside someone, and he wasn't a stranger to anal sex. He'd just never been on the receiving end. If this was to be his one night with Harry Potter, he wanted to know how it felt to be under the man, to take Harry into his body, and bring him pleasure.
"No, you should… I want you to be 'on top.' You know what you're doing, and I know you'll try to make it as painless as possible. So, you do it."
Then, before he could change his mind, he spread his legs, and turned his head to the side, scrunching his face in anticipation of pain.
Harry sighed, and said, "I know you think this is going to be horrible. So, I'm going to let you deal with it however you have to, but I will need for you to try to relax, though I don't think that will be a problem soon enough."
Draco did his best to relax his legs, letting his knees bend, and uncurling his toes. He was sure it would hurt immensely, when Harry pushed into him, but at the first wet swipe of Harry's finger against his hole, he changed his mind.
Having someone touch him there, where he'd never dared to touch himself in this way, was exhilarating. It felt strange, but good, really good. When Harry's slick finger pushed into him, there was a twinge of pain. Draco just wanted it over with, as quickly as possible, so he spread his legs wider, and pushed down on the intruding finger.
"Mmmm," Harry moaned, as his finger slid all the way into Draco's now very pliant body.
"Please, Harry, please just- Ah!" Harry touched something inside him, and Draco's body jerked, as stars danced behind his eyes.
Draco's cock, that had yet to take interest in the proceedings, suddenly flared to life, filling, hardening, and twitching as Harry stroked that spot, over and over.
Coherent speech seemed impossible, so Draco simply nodded.
"Turn over for me, Draco. Get on your hands and knees."
It took some serious twisting, but Draco was able to do as Harry had asked, without Harry's, now two, fingers leaving his hole. In this new position, Harry was able to reach that spot even better, and he applied almost constant pressure.
Draco whimpered, and tried to thrust back, wanting Harry deeper in him, needing this connection with the other man.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes, Merlin fucking hell, yes."
He cried out, as Harry's digits pulled out, leaving him empty and aching. Then, he felt the blunt head of Harry's cock, and cringed as he pushed forward slightly. This was different than the fingers, and it felt huge as Harry entered him slowly, but steadily.
The first few pushes were pretty painful, and Harry stopped as soon as he'd breached the first ring of muscle.
"Alright? Do you want me to stop?" Though he couldn't see Harry, Draco could tell the man was gritting his teeth. It thrilled him to think that Harry was on the brink of losing control, because of him, because he was giving Harry pleasure.
"I'm good, just do it."
Gripping tightly to Draco's hips, Harry continued to push in, slowly spreading Draco's walls. Draco could feel the way his body molded itself to Harry, muscles parting to make way for Harry's throbbing length. He thought he could feel Harry's heartbeat as the hard flesh speared him.
Finally, after agonizingly long minutes, Harry was seated in him fully, and the pain all but disappeared. It still felt odd, being so full down there, but he was adjusting, and beginning to like it. Then Harry pulled back, retreating from Draco's body as slowly as he'd entered it.
The drag of Harry's cock pulling out was exquisite. Draco could feel every ridge, every vein, rubbing his passage, causing him to buck up, trying to entice Harry forward again.
"Gods, Draco. You feel so fucking good. Am I hurting you?"
"No." And it was the truth. Draco couldn't imagine this ever hurting, couldn't even remember the pain from a few minutes ago.
Slowly, tenderly, Harry pushed in and pulled out, until Draco was writhing beneath him, begging for more. As soon as he did, Harry stilled, and leaned over, wrapping his arms around Draco's chest and pulling him backward.
A little bit of rearranging, and Draco was squatting over Harry, back to chest. It only took one tweak to his nipples for him to understand the benefits of this position. And, when he lowered himself again, he realized something else. Not only did he now share the control with Harry, but Harry could press even deeper into him. And, with just a little pressure from Harry's splayed hand on his abdomen, Harry could rub that spot even harder.
"Oh, fuck." Draco groaned, as Harry struck it once again.
In answer, Draco reached behind him, hooked both hands behind Harry's head, and began to ride the man earnestly. Harry growled low in his throat, wrapped his arms around Draco's midsection, and thrust up to meet every one of Draco's downward motions.
The sound of flesh slapping flesh was almost obscene, but even more so, were the sounds they were making. They grunted, huffed, moaned, and shouted, as they fought to reach orgasm. It was a contest of sorts, though Draco wasn't sure if he would win by coming first, or last. When one of Harry's hands found his cock, squeezing and rubbing it, he decided he didn't care.
Harry's hot mouth trailed bites and kisses over the arm he could reach, and every touch of Harry's lips, every flick of his tongue, added to the feelings beginning to take over Draco's body.
"I'm… oh, yes, gods, yes." The words were forced out of him, as Harry drove into him fiercely.
"Come, Draco." But, it wasn't that easy. Draco was dangling on the edge of a precipice of bliss, but couldn't topple over it.
Or wouldn't topple, because he wanted this moment in time to stall, and last for an eternity. He didn't want to come, because if he did, this would end. The thought of never having this again filled him with cold dread, and left him feeling bereft.
But, Harry did not allow him to dwell on those feelings for very long. Determined to wring the orgasm from Draco's body, Harry shifted his hips, giving him better access to Draco's prostate. As Harry relentlessly rammed it, he began to push his finger against Draco's slit on every upstroke, as if trying to coax the semen from his body. Every nerve ending in Draco's body zinged with pleasure, and his thighs quivered with the need to just give in.
In a blur of nirvana so profound it shook him to his core, his cock throbbed, and he began to spill, in long, ropey spurts over Harry's hand. He was dimly aware of Harry shifting him, and thrusting several more times. Then Harry began to spasm, rocking jerkily, and moaning Draco's name. Harry's shaft pulsed, as he released in an almost never ending stream inside of Draco.
When it finally did end, and Harry started to pulled out, Draco panicked.
Harry, sounding sincerely confused, asked, "Don't what?"
"Can we… just-" How was he supposed to ask Harry not to pull out? "Just stay like we are, maybe? Except we can lie down…"
"You don't want me to pull out. That's what you're trying to say, right?"
Draco blushed deeply, but nodded.
Harry didn't comment further, he just eased them down, and pulled Draco tight against his chest, still buried to the hilt inside his body.
"I-I know this is weird… but I just… just for a few minutes, please?"
Harry's breath ruffled Draco's hair, when he said, "Draco, I'll stay here like this all night, if you want. I like being close to you."
They didn't say anything else, and Draco fell asleep filled with a warmth he'd never known, both literally and figuratively.
Then next morning was awkward for the blonde. Sometime during the night, Harry had slipped out of him, and he was extremely messy. He was covered in his own come, had Potter's leaking out of him, and the come on Potter's hand had dried on his side.
He silently thanked whoever might be listening, that Potter was a heavy sleeper, as he crawled from the bed and rummaged for his clothes. He desperately needed a shower, but that would have to wait.
Once he was fully dressed, he found a muggle notepad and pen in the living room, and quickly jotted a note for the other man.
Opening the front door, Draco took one look back at the closed door to Potter's bedroom, then stepped out, and closed the door softly behind him.
A pain worse than any he'd felt before overtook him, as he walked away, blooming in his chest, and making it difficult to breathe. He'd told Potter how it had to be, now, if he could only convince himself.