Intro - xx

Stay With Me

He was sitting in the balcony, enjoying the weather. The cold breeze felt refreshing on his face. But then he saw it, he saw it and felt a chill go through his spine. 

So he looked away. In an instant, he convinced himself it was his imagination. Squeezing his eyes shut, he prayed. 

After so long, he was blessed with a peaceful evening. The beach across his home was finally free of all homo sapiens. Mind you, that was a miracle by itself.

For once he was enjoying the sunlight dancing on the blue ocean. The sun was going to set and the sky was scarlet, everything was seeming okay, for once. Illusion as it was. 

He braved to open at least one eye, but shut it again when he saw him. 

Definitely a piece of his filthy imagination. So he batted his eyes open, finally allowing himself to stare at the silhouette who was waving at him. 

He almost waved back to the boy standing on the beach. His legs smothered in the cold sand. 

"Come down!" He yelled, as if calling to his best mate to play. All the regular stuff. 

"Come down, Manan! I’ll not eat you!" He called again. 

The shreds of his courage scattering apart—berating himself for listening to the boy on the beach— he finally reached down. 

He was standing metres away from his fantasy that has come to life, but he didn’t utter a word. Didn’t move an inch further. 

How could he? 

This was Harry Potter. The Harry Potter. The boy who li—never mind.

How could he dare open his mouth when Harry was standing before him, smiling. Just the way he had imagined Harry’s smile to be. 

Benign and warm. With a little tinge of mischief. After all, he was James’ son. 

His favourite character, the word character just too shallow for a person like him. He was his Harry. His Roonil standing just only a metre away. 

"You seem pretty dumbfounded, Manan." Harry joked, closing the distance between them. "Don’t be scared. I’m just here to help you. Its not often I find you home alone, lurking in your balcony." He chuckled. 

God, this was exactly how he had thought he would laugh while he read through the pages. The same crinkles, his dark ruffled hair that fell on his forehead, the shimmering emerald eyes. 

How was it possible? 

"I—I am—you’re Harry Potter." stuttered Manan, glancing at Harry’s lightening scar that studded out of the curtain of his fringes.

"I am, really." spoke Harry. "I know you’ve seen it now. I’m no imposter." He was mentioning his scar, smiling wistfully at Manan. 

Manan poked him, out of sheer reflex. A quick play of fingers to see if Harry evaporated in thin air. But that didn’t happen. 

"I’m here, Manan. Will you like to—will you like to walk around maybe? With me? The sand is just so soft." Manan looked down. Harry was barefoot. 

He smiled to himself. Maybe, this was happening after all.

So they walked together. Manan strolling alongside Harry. The entire evening spent like this. Even when the cold breeze hit his cheeks, his exposed body parts, he felt only warm—walking beside his favourite person. 

Talking to him occasionally, risking stupid questions about the universe, laughing at Harry’s witty humour.

Manan had almost forgotten what it was like to have a friend. 

He knew, after today, it definitely felt warm. 

As the night fell on them, and the twilight turned into a dark night, Harry finally stopped. His lips curled up in a small smile as he watched Manan run on the sand freely, his feet now bare too. 

Manan caught Harry staring and scurried back to him, realising maybe it’s time. 

"Are you—are you going to go now?"

Harry pursed his lips apologetically and held Manan by his shoulders. Firmly at both sides. "I know you are suffering, Manan." He stated. Sadness was visible in his jade eyes. 

Manan scoffed, feeling timid. "The hardships you have suffered are far more—"

"No suffering is small." Harry interrupted and suddenly embraced Manan in his arms. 

Manan fought back his tears, guzzling them in. Who would cry before their favourite person? 

"Are you going to come back?" He croaked when they pulled apart. Harry still hadn’t loosened the grip on his shoulders. 

"I might." said Harry softly, searching his face. "You can tell me anything, you know. I’m your friend now." He added. 

Manan feebly opened his mouth, voicing the thought that had bothered him the entire evening. 

"Are you real?" He closed his eyes immediately. He feared the answer. 

"It’s all in your head, Manan, but who said it cannot be real?" He heard Harry answer. 

Manan’s eyes were still closed, he could still feel the warmth radiating from Harry, but it was strange how he was the only boy standing on the beach that night. 

—by, someone whose favourite person is Harry also.