(A/N) So, for a couple weeks I have been reading a lot, and let me repeat, a LOT, of H/D fanfiction, and it being so long since I actually wrote something of a story myself, I thought I might stretch my wings. Reviews would be appreciated and very much welcomed, it makes a writer tingle, I think, to hear people talking about their stories. :D So, without further adieu, here is the Prologue of Better Together. If I get enough positive feedback on the story, I'll post the first Chapter, but without much encouragement it's hard to find the motivation. We'll just see where this goes, yeah? :]

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything that quite obviously came from the brilliant mind of Miss J.K. Rowling. I would just like to play with her characters a bit, I'll put them back when I'm done. ;]

Enjoy!

Better Together - Prologue

The mist hung heavily in the streets of London, the grey sky stretching vastly across the sullen, concrete skyline, meeting at the very brink of vision to meld together and disappear behind an opaque curtain of thick fog. Harry's head rested tiredly against the cool glass of the window pane, his breathe coating the window in thin blankets of moisture with every escaping breath. His eyes searched the landscape carefully, for something none too specific; searching for an answer which constantly eluded him. Seven months he had been searching, meticulously picking apart his life with a fine-tooth comb. Answers, it seemed, had been purposefully running from him. Try as he might, he couldn't quite reach a definite conclusion. He had put together a long list of theories, of course, but nothing so concrete to act on, or even put the smallest sliver of faith into. All in all, Harry felt hopeless. How had his life come down to this? He had believed, once-upon-a-time, that he was completely happy, but all of that had been ripped away from him seven months ago, along with what stability he had. Harry closed his eyes and reveled in the coolness of the glass, thinking back to mid-January, when his life had encountered yet another harsh turn of events:

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Harry watched as his breath rose into the biting, winter air in front of him, shoving a hand deep into the pocket of his pea coat, the other clasping the hand of a stunning young man, dressed rather impeccably and frowning against a brief gust of wind that blew against the couple. Harry squeezed his boyfriends hand and moved closer to him unconsciously, seeking warmth from the frost-laden air. They walked slowly through a small, residential area of London as they made their way to Harry's flat. Aarron, the taller and ravishing boy, had been rather subdued for most of the evening, and Harry's mind reeled at what could possibly be bothering his boyfriend this time. He momentarily considered asking his counterpart what was wrong, before roughly pushing the thought away; if he wanted to talk about anything he would do so of his own accord and on his own time. Aarron usually got agitated when Harry pried too much, complaining that he was much too pushy all the time. Harry had learned, after being with him for so long, that to avoid any sort-of argument or hurt feelings (mostly Harry's), that ignoring it and letting it go always saved him any heartache.

They passed under a street lamp, the two of them being briefly bathed in a golden glow. Harry looked over to Aarron, marveling in the beauty he was met with. Aarron was exceptionally gorgeous. His short, black hair was dusted with fine specks of snow that sparkled in the amber glow of the looming street lamp. Although his features were drawn into a half-scowl at the freezing, January weather, he came across as nothing short of remarkable. His dark-blue eyes stared straight ahead into the growing darkness before them, his brow furrowed into obvious annoyance; he hated the cold. His skin was flawless, as it always was, and his full lips were soft, even at the mercy of the bitter air. The only evidence that his body was susceptible to the cold was the slight reddening of those lips. Harry's gaze fell back to the snow-covered ground, a smile slowly forming on his chaffing lips. Aaron looked cautiously at the other boy, having felt his eyes on him not moments before, and felt the residual warmth encircling his hand. Despite their vulnerability to the weather, that small pool of heat was welcomed, gratefully. He held his gaze on Harry, and let out a slow sigh, a billowing plume of mist rising into the dark, star-streaked sky. He noticed the smile playing on Harry's lips and frowned once more, turning his eyes back to the encroaching darkness. As delightful as their evening had been, he had been having difficulty concentrating. He shivered as the wind picked up once more and pulled himself further into the recesses of his heavy, wool coat. Feeling a violent shiver from the shorter boy beside him, he stepped closer to Harry, moving his thumbs in soothing circles on the back of Harry's hand.

They soon reached Harry's flat on a quiet, suburban street. They walked hastily up to the front door and stopped briefly on the doorstep while Harry fumbled with his keys before walking through the doorframe and into the darkened home, stomping off snow from their shoes onto the small rug by the door, before advancing into the warm living room. Harry quickly switched on a lamp before removing his coat and scarf. He looked around to Aarron who was hastily doing the same. Harry straightened and walked over to the taller boy, reaching out his arms. Aarron held out an arm and Harry gratefully slid into his embrace, wrapping his arms around Aarron's waist and nestling his head against his chest. Aarron, being slightly taller than Harry, leaned down and planted a soft kiss to the top of Harry's head, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of Harry's shampoo. Harry stirred against him and pulled away, inclining his head to look up at his partner, puckering his lips expectantly. Aarron leaned down further and planted a soft, dutiful kiss to Harry's cold lips. "I'll make us some tea," Harry whispered, reluctantly pulling out of Aarron's arm and retreating to the kitchen, flipping on the light switch as he went, dousing the cozy kitchen in a clean, white light. He gathered the tea kettle from the range and filled it with water, replacing it carefully on the stove, and turning on the burner before opening the cabinet above the stove to withdraw a glass canister filled with tea bags. As he opened the lid, he was met with the soothing scent of honeysuckle and rose hips, reveling in the heavenly aroma before retrieving two of the tea bags and closing the canister, placing it back in its respective place. He crossed the kitchen in a swift motion to pull two mugs from their respective cabinet and quickly returned to the counter adjacent the stove. He pulled the kettle of now boiling water from the burner and poured the hot water over the tea bags in each mug. He stepped over to the fridge and withdrew a small bowl of thinly sliced lemon, placing a slice into each cup before closing the refrigerator door and taking a mug into each hand and carefully making his way back into the living room, easing himself into the seat beside Aarron on the couch. Aarron gratefully took the piping-hot tea with a muttered "Thank you" and wrapped his fingers around the warm ceramic. He blew on the steaming liquid once before taking a small sip, humming softly as the tea warmed him from the inside out.

"Do you have to work tomorrow?" It was Harry who spoke first.

"Of course," he sighed, "would you have guessed any less?"

"No, I suppose not," Harry said and chuckled. He raised his eyes to the boy sitting quietly beside him, noticing he was still shivering slightly. Harry reached his hand into the pocket of his coat, that was laid neatly on the back of the couch, and withdrew a sleek, ebony wand, poiting it at the hearth across from the couch. The logs erupted into lively flames, and the room was enveloped in a glowing, amber radiance, the only sound the frequent crackling of the flames as they danced about the fireplace in an unchoreographed, yet graceful ballet. Warmth flooded the small room and the already-evident homeliness of the flat was amplified. "Are we still on for this weekend?" Harry asked, almost cautiously.

Aaron groaned, taking another drink of his tea before setting it down on the glass coffee table. "I'm not sure, please, for once, don't plan my entire week, you know I hate it," he huffed, running a hand through his water-specked hair.

"I was just wondering. I'm sorry," Harry mumbled, dropping his gaze to his clasped hands, biting his bottom lip anxiously. Aarron stole a quick glance at Harry and blew a sharp breath out of his nostrils.

"I just feel overwhelmed . . ." he trailed off, shaking his head and wringing his hands together.

"Is it work . . ." Harry began before Aarron was holding up a hand, signaling him to stop.

"Let me talk, please," he drew a breath and continued. "I don't know what it is. I think I really just need a break . . . from everything, life in general." He scrubbed his hands over his face and looked over at Harry, not fully anticipating what sort-of reaction he would get from his boyfriend. Harry looked at Aarron thoughtfully before responding in the gentlest of tones.

"Maybe we should take a vacation. We both know we're overdue for one, and I bet it would calm your nerves. It could do a lot of good for both-" Harry said before Aarron interrupted impatiently.

"I doubt that would help. The stress and responsibility would just be waiting when we got back. I just need to eliminate what stress and responsibility that I can . . ." he trailed off once again, his eyes becoming particularly interested in a fringe hanging from his shirt sleeve. "I don't know if you can understand or not, I don't really expect you to, but relationships are quite demanding and require a great deal of responsibility . . ." he looked up for a moment, and noticed Harry visibly stiffen, before he continued. "I'm not doing it to hurt you, really I'm not, but I really just need a break. I'm so stressed and I feel like I have a pillow being held over my face. Please try to understand."

Harry drew a shuddering breath, biting his lip to the point of almost drawing blood, trying to force the stinging in his eyes to stop. His mind was completely blank. He simply could not register what was happening, but forced himself to respond. "I know you're stressed, I'm not going to force you into not doing what you obviously need to do. You can rest assured I'll be waiting for you," Harry said, forcing a half-hearted smile to his lips.

"Harry," Aarron began, "I don't know how long I'm going to need, I can't openly expect you to just wait and twiddle your thumbs. Besides," he let out an exasperated sigh, "I can't actually promise my return."

Harry sat in shock, and the tears he was so determinedly fighting back moments ago were now spilling freely onto his cheeks, his bottom lip quivering anxiously. Aarron saw this and promptly continued: "I'll never be gone, Harry, even if for some reason we're not together after I figure things out. You're my best friend, a friend I will always value; I never want you completely out of my life, that I can promise." Aarron fell silent and waited for Harry to say something. He looked at the smaller boy and frowned. Harry was crying, his eyes darting about the room before slowly coming to rest on Aarron. He drew a deep breathe before he spoke.

"I pushed too much," he shook his head before he let it fall into his hands, his body shaking with silent sobs. "I really never meant to push, I just tried to be loving and caring, I promise." He looked up at Aarron with sad, green eyes.

"Which you have done spectacularly. You have been, one-hundred and fifty percent, the best boyfriend any one could ever hope for. Most of the time, I'm sure I didn't even deserve it, but you were nonetheless. I just don't know what's up with me. It's nothing you've done at all, it's me." Aarron hoped this would make Harry feel better, but was positive nothing could at this moment. Despite how hurt Harry must have been, Aarron didn't think Harry would ever realize how much it was hurting him to do this. Telling someone you don't want to be with them right now, despite how much you love that person, and to have to sit and watch them cry because of something you're doing by choice was extremely difficult and painful. He absolutely hated seeing Harry so hurt and hated himself more for causing it. Despite all this, he hoped that if he could get his thoughts together and the stress under control, maybe he and Harry could be together and actually be happier, more like a normal couple. He looked at Harry carefully, scooting closer and grabbing a hand, lacing his fingers through the others, Harry looked up at him before laying his head onto Aarron's shoulder, closing his eyes and breathing in his familiar scent,

"I love you, Aarron. I'm really going to miss you," Harry rasped between hitched breaths.

"I'll miss you, too, and you know I love you." Aarron squeezed Harry closer and lifted Harry's face to his with two, light fingers under his chin. His eyes half-closed as he shortened the distance between them and placed a soft, caressing kiss to Harry's lips, tasting the salty tears that had fallen on Harry's soft lips. Harry eagerly reciprocated the kiss before Aarron pulled away, Harry whimpering softly as his eyes slowly opened again. Green eyes met deep-sea blue ones before Aarron stood, pulling Harry up from the couch by his hands, and into a warm hug. After a few long moments, he pulled away and slid on his coat, avoiding Harry's gaze as he did so. "I have to go," he said quietly, almost in a whisper, before heading for the door. "Actually, I think I'll just apparate, it's too bloody cold out." He gave one last, almost longing look at Harry before pulling his wand from within his jacket. "If you ever need to talk, or if you ever just need something, please ring me, alright?" he said, looking expectantly at Harry. Harry just nodded, wrapping his arms around himself.

"I love you," Harry said airily, tears threatening to spill forth again.

"I love you, too," said Aarron. "Take care of yourself, Harry." He took one last look at Harry before disappearing from the flat with a loud 'pop!', leaving Harry in silence, apart from the incessant crackling of the roaring fire.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Harry was sharply brought out of his flashback by a loud rapping on his front door. He pulled himself out of the plush window-seat, striding to the front door as the rapping got louder and more insistent. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered, grasping the bronze knob. He let out an exasperated sigh before giving the knob a twist and pulling the door into the flat, the hinges creaking softly in the stillness. Harry looked up into a soft face, a kind smile displayed warmly on soft, pink lips.

Harry closed his eyes and let out a small sigh of defeat.

"You can't hide forever, Harry," a small but confident voice said, taking in the appearance of the young man in the doorframe. Maybe that was true, but it was certainly the only thing Harry had felt motivated to do recently, besides going to work. It definitely made this thing called living easier to do.

(A/N) So? About them reviews... -waits patiently- :]