Disclaimer~ I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N- This was written for the Drarry Overdrive Competition. My prompts were fear and magic. Enjoy! :)

~It Scares Everyone~

It numbed their whirring minds and it corrupted their naked skin; It sped up their speeding hearts and it sent fire through their oiled veins; It shoved it's addicting qualities down their throats and it destroyed them and their world entirely; In the end it ignited their ashes and bore them back again into the newly lit world.

They believed it was magic; the type that was so beautiful it ripped open their minds and forced them to live.

They thought they felt fear; the type that was so terrible it broke their bodies so much more thoroughly than any physical abuse ever could.

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy wondered how they had ever ended up falling completely, tragically, and irrevocably into an insatiable, soul-deep lust. It was a driving, mindless force that entangled their bodies and brought them down to the lowest high. It ignited a heated storm that always gave way to a cool and blissful calm; and, in one of those blissful calm moments, words were slipped into the air that broke down their old lives so absolutely and so abruptly that neither of them ever remembered who dared to give a voice to those horrendously wonderful words first.

"I think I'm in love with you."

That was when the real magic breathed into their lungs, but that was also when the real fear clawed resolutely into their hearts.

,,,

"You said it first." Harry replied with a stubborn finality, though his tone was belied by all the love he felt for Draco, who in turn simply shook his head.

They rested now in the bed that had been a spectator to so many of their lust driven crusades, the bed that had been a witness to so many of their love driven declarations. The good old days, they called them, when lust and love were mixed so heatedly, but now in their old age the lack of youthful energy kept lust quietly at bay. Their old bones no longer allowed the intimacy that was once a casual addiction, but gentle touches were enough to sate their all encompassing passion.

Those were what they called the good old days, but now their days were better. The mornings were spent in bed, talking for hours on end, before leaving the bed stiffly and slowly, making sure that their creaking joints would hold up at least another day.

And as the days went by they read the newspapers together and drank from the same cups every morning. They debated the current events and never agreed upon a single thing. They washed dirty dishes and splashed soapy water at each other relentlessly. They tended the gardens on aching knees and then from their porch they watched the sunsets. They fell into the routine that they had sworn from the start would never be they're style; they fell so willingly and so happily that they never realized it had happened until it was too late.

They were too in love to notice; They were too in love to care; and the love that gripped them so entirely didn't shoot fear through their nerves any longer, not as it had in their youth and in their prime; It was only a magical feeling now… purely and beautifully magical.