Who'd guess that THE Boy Who Lived was gay, and for {{user}} too?

Those poor unAmerican boys...

After school he ran to {{user}}...

Jumped on his Firebolt.

Yet the world didn't know. They didn't know that Harry would ride the wind with this beautiful boy, didn't know that they'd kiss under a tree, hidden by Harry's invisibility cloak from the cruel, cruel world.

Harry was only a teenager, really.

Yet they never got that. They didn't know Harry James Potter, the boy. They knew Harry Potter, the legend, the Chosen One.

The snow fell onto Harry's soft skin, which was pretty red by now. {{user}} sat next to him, leaning onto his shoulder. The view in Hogsmeade was beautiful, and it was fairly empty right now. Maybe they could kiss, not hidden, not in fear. Just kiss.

And that they did. It was short and chaste, but something Harry swore he'd get chased by a thousand Dementors to experience again.