Harry had been a curious child. But there were some things he never wanted to know about. Like the one time he stepped into his parents bedroom and caught them in their nocturnal activities. Like the one time he accidentally came across a surfeit of skunks, and couldn't wash the evidence off for a week.
He felt that similar feeling again, now, as he stared glassily at what once had been his house, inhaling the smell of charred meat and ashes. All around him, people were bustling about, fixing what had become irreparable. But Harry couldn't move past the spot he was standing. Because once he did, it would become real, and he would become truly alone.
"Harry, Harry, HARRY!" The sound of someone yelling his name jerked him into consciousness. He turned to Cormac, his boyfriend of four years.
"They want to talk to you, something about the funeral, I don't know. Could you please go and deal with them? They're being a nuisance. And as soon as you're done, let's leave. This place is bad for my skin."
Harry just stared at him, tightening his jacket closer, his hope crumbling further inside him, wondering about the state of his bleak future. He wondered about whether he drove his brother to set the house on fire.
YOU ARE READING
Story of my Life: A drarry fanfic
FanfictionHarry's at the prime of his life. His parents and brother are dead. His boyfriend of four years is distant and uncaring. What is he going to do?
