Back after a year of absence. Haven't had muse for a while. Terrible, terrible time for me. Lost some family members, some of which I am still grieving over. But all that aside, I've fallen in love with writing once more.

Also, sorry i had you guys read those horrible two chapters. Maybe once I'm done I'll go and rewrite those.

Harry's POV

These last few weeks with Viktor have been amazing. And I'm almost sad that I have to leave. Almost. I'm just glad I get to see Hermione again. And hopefully Ron. She tells me that she's trying to convince him that my sexuality doesn't change me, and she seems to think it's working. I don't think it is, to be honest. Once a thought get's into a Weasley's head, it wont get out.

Viktor's been a delight. But I think it's getting to be a bit much for the both of us. Before all this happened, we were just two regular young men. I didn't have to worry about food for myself because I was fed, malnourished actually, by the Dursley's, and all Viktor had to do was go to a fast-food restaurant after practice and he was practically fed. And now we have to take care of each other. Crazy how much things can change after so long.

He likes to take me out, flaunt me to his Quidditch mates. Makes him feel like a King, or so he says. Because 'only a King is fit to hold Harry Potter's hand as his own.' His sappy romanticness is so amusing to me. He's terrible at it, but it's funny to me, and I appreciate the small gestures.

I've had to tell him countless times that it's not the bigger presents that count, it's the thought behind them that does. But of course, nothing ever gets through that thick head of his. He's so hard-headed, I fear for his safety some times.

Just this morning I had to deny his offer of getting me a whole new wardrobe because he didn't feel comfortable seeing me wear clothes that were two to three times my size. Then I had to remind him he loves seeing me in his clothing and he's two to three times my size. As always, he laughed it off, and here I am, in the lift to his apartment, holding six or seven bags of clothing. And he wouldn't let me get the cheap things either. Nope, I have a dozen British Owl bags, and some Cadogan and Hooch bags. He's carrying the rest, because it was his idea to go shopping in the first place.

"You do realize that I don't have time to wear all these new clothes, don't you Viktor," I say, as I turn to set the bags down in front of his door.

He picks my bags off the ground, as I give him a look in annoyance.

"I could've carried those for myself," I say, as I fish out his house keys from the pockets of my jacket, and unlock the door.

"Sorry, can't help it," he apologizes, even though we both know he isn't. "Just being a gentleman, Harry."

"Nyamam nuzhda ot akta," I reply to him. Since I've been here, he's been teaching me some Bulgarian, incase I need to 'find my way,' although we both know a simple Translation would be far quicker and more accurate.

"That, is hot," he says to me, leaning in for a kiss. I peck his lips lightly, then turn around and unlock the door. I step into his apartment, and Buki runs to greet us. Viktor insisted that if I didn't go to Quidditch practice with him, I should have someone looking out for me. But I'm not complaining, I've always wanted a dog. Muggles seem so happy around them.

"What is?" I ask Viktor, raising an eyebrow at him.

"You, talking in Bulgarian, that is hot." I try to stifle a laugh at his utter butchering of the English language, but my body betrays me and it's out there.

His face reddens, and I automatically feel bad and apologize. He doesn't take it to lightly, and turns his back to me while walking away to our room.

"Not all of us can be perfect in a language they haf never heard before."

Viktor's POV

My reaction to Harry laughing at my English was over the top, I admit, but it's hard to hear him laugh at me. Especially when I try so hard to be perfect for him. Something about him makes me want to always be there for him. And he's so perfect. He deserves nothing but the best. And I try so hard to be that for him, but I always fall short.

My insecurities always get the best of me around Harry. I feel like no matter how hard I try, someone will always be able to give him better. He tells me of the life he wishes to have, where everyone will have forgotten him, and he'd be able to live in an out-of-the-way place. And that kills me. No matter how hard I try, I know that if he's with me in the future, there will always be cameras around. There can't not be cameras around if the Chosen One and the best Seeker in the World are together.

I walk the stairs up to my room, and open the door to find that everything's wrecked. My papers are all over the place, and my furniture is all torn and turned over.

"Harry!" I yell out to him before I hear a glass shatter in the floor beneath me. I rush down the stairs, and round the corner to the kitchen.

I find Harry bent down on the floor, and he's cleaning up some shattered glass. I sigh in relief, for a moment I thought he was going to be kidnapped.

"I'm so sorry, Viko." I smile at his term of affection.

"It's OK, you're fine, no?"


"Then everything's OK."

"Oh, I might've made a bit of a mess looking for Hermione's letter in your bedroom earlier. I'll go clean it in a bit."

I smile as I see Harry has fallen asleep on my lap. We decided to watch a scary movie tonight, and he was convinced that burying his face near my crotch was the best way to get away from the scary parts. Of course, I wasn't complaining. Neither was he.

I pick him up and carry him to our bed. He stirs a bit in his sleep, but I ignore it for the most part. Sometimes he worries me. One minute we'll be having a good time, the next he's fallen to the ground, and he starts sweating, and I can't feel a pulse point. He speaks of this door, a door in the middle of a long corridor. I've tried looking up said door, but it doesn't come up in any books in the Wizard or Muggle world.

I relish in the sight of him sprawled out on my bed, wearing my shirt, and my boxer briefs. Even after we went and had a major shopping session, he prefers wearing my clothes. I think it's sort of cute, and I enjoy it. I only have him for a couple more days until the first day of Term. I'm not sure how we'll do this, but he's decided to go back to Hogwarts. No doubt he'll get a lot of bullshit at the boundary line, but that's where he wants to go. Hogwarts is his home.

Thank you to all the loyal followers of this story. And also, I apologize for my writing style's change, but I've matured, and this is part of it.