#alpharry

As he stepped outside, Harry guessed he had about ten minutes before they set off the fireworks they set up. 

Despite it being nearly midnight, the Potter’s backyard was lit up like it was the middle of the day. You’d expect it to be earlier with how many people were outside too.

Harry walked past the large bonfire where his father sat with Remus, watching from the corner of his eye Dahlia light a marshmallow with Ron’s help over the fire. He kicked the foundation of the house where his mother and Regulus sat, waving at them through the window.

As he walked to the fence, Harry kicked a stone with his trainers, skidding it across the dirt. He put his hands into the pockets of his trousers, forcing himself to look casual as he came up to the sight in front of him.

Leaning on the wooden fence, looking up at the night sky, was Alphie. Looking at his face beneath the moonlight night sent a rush of emotions through Harry’s body.

Harry tried to keep his voice from cracking when he saw him. “You know, the party is over there.”

“I know.” Alphie smirked. “I was waiting for you.”

Harry swallowed. Hard. He climbed onto the top railing, swinging his legs as he looked away from him and up at the sky. “Any particular reason for that?”

“I guess you could say that.”

Harry looked back down, cursing himself. Damn it. Alphie just had to be looking at him like that, didn’t he? It felt strange to call him beautiful, but with the way the shadows from the fire were hitting his face? There wasn’t any other word to describe it.

He remembered the last time they were alone like this, the first time they kissed. The rage Harry had been feeling at seeing Alphie so bloodied and hurt, it had just bubbled over and he acted on impulse.

If Wood was there, he would have applauded how fast Harry moved in the heat of the moment. Probably would have said something about how Alphie coughed up blood a few minutes beforehand too, but not everyone can get knocked to the ground in the middle of Quidditch practice and snog on the pitch like he did.

“You’re remembering the last time we were together like this too,” Harry scoffed. “I know you are. I recognize that look, Alphie.”

“Maybe I am.” He leaned against the railing, his black hair falling down the sides of his face. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Oh, hells.

Unlike the last time they kissed, Harry didn’t think that Alphie was about to die, so it was significantly more enjoyable in that aspect. Who would have thought?

Harry jumped, pulling away as he heard the sound of an explosion. He watched as the first of Fred and George’s fireworks went off in the sky, lighting up Alphie’s skin in a bright blue light.

“Happy New Year, Harry.”