apples and scented candles • h.potter ✓

• twenty three •

"Well, if you say so," Corben shrugged. "I don't know how muggle doctors work."

Harry smiled and gave him a side hug. "I'll get you an appointment."

He stood up and held out a hand. "Shall we begin?"

They stood in the middle of the room, about six feet apart, wands drawn and a challenging look on each of their faces. Harry began the duel with a tickling spell, which Corben deflected easily, and in a matter of a few minutes, they were shooting spells at each other at lightning speed, many of which hit the shelf and bounced off the glass wall.

Harry stopped every few minutes to give him instructions, to fix his posture, or simply to utter words of encouragement. Corben seemed to ooze confidence, fighting him gladly. But after an hour or so, he began to slow down; so much so that he was unable to defend himself from the simple disarming spell that Harry shot at him.

He flopped onto one of the sofas with a huff. Harry pressed his lips, staring at a defeated Corben who heaved deep and heavy breaths, clutching at the stitch on his chest. He sat down beside him, circling his hand around his shoulder and pulling him close.

"See what I was talking about?" he said once he has brought his breathing somewhat under control. "How can I be an Auror when I get tired so easily? Look at you, your breathing is as normal as ever."

Harry ran his hand up and down Corben's arm, trying to offer comfort as much as he could. Corben seemed to have accepted and surrendered to the assumption that he could never be an Auror, but Harry wasn't ready to accept it just yet. "Listen, I told you I'll take you to a dietician, haven't I? Until you get a diagnosis, don't assume anything like that. If you follow a strict diet assigned by an expert, what do you know, your health may improve drastically."

Corben rested his head over his shoulder, closing his eyes. Harry let him stay that way for a few minutes before he rose to his feet and pulled Corben up with him. He protested half-heartedly. "I don't wanna duel."

"We are not going to duel."

Harry's hands were still clutching Corben's lightly. He let go after a minute and went to his bedroom to turn on some music at full volume. When he returned, Corben was smiling at him, his hands on his hips. "I can't dance."

"Neither can I."

Harry stepped towards him and draped his hands around his shoulders. Corben was still smiling, but he refused to move his hands from his hips. Harry waited a few seconds before he kneed his legs. "Go on."

"Is that how you ask someone to dance?" said Corben with a smirk. "By kicking them? No wonder your date ditched you during the Yule Ball."

"First of all, I didn't kick you," he began. "And how by Merlin's beard do you know I was ditched by my date?"

"I was there at the Ball. I saw you and your Weasley friend sitting miserably and staring off into the distance."

Harry laughed. "Weren't you underage for the Ball?" he asked.

"I went with Daphne Greengrass," he answered. "I really wanted to be at the Ball, so I asked her if she would take me as her little brother. And she did."

"Are you still not going to move your hands from your waist?" asked Harry. "Just relax and start dancing."

Corben stared at him mischievously for a few moments before finally giving in. Slowly, he circled his hands around his waist and drew closer, so that their fronts pressed against each other. In a few minutes, they were both swaying lightly to the music, foreheads touching, eyes closed, small smiles playing on their lips. Harry lifted his head slightly, but only to kiss him softly on the lips.

"This feels good," Corben whispered against his ear. "We should do it more."

"I'm all for –"

"Ow!" Corben shrieked suddenly, cutting him off. "You stepped on my foot, Harry!"

"It was an accident, I'm sorry!"

Standing on one foot, Corben hopped around the room until he fell back on the sofa. Harry joined him a moment later. "Didn't realise I stepped on you that hard."

He smiled at him, leaning over his shoulder. "You didn't. I was being dramatic." A pause. "Hey, Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you –" he shuffled awkwardly beside him, "– will you still be – will we still be together if I fail my Auror training?"

If Harry was being honest, the question stung. He rounded on his boyfriend and glared daggers at him. "What on earth is that supposed to mean, Corben?" He flinched at his tone, but Harry continued. "What has your career got to do with anything regarding our relationship? I'm not dating you because you are going to become a successful Auror one day; I'm dating you because I like you."

Corben squeezed his eyes shut and covered his face with his hands. "I know, I'm sorry," he said. "I have never actually had any proper friend because Blaise was always supervising who I talk to. You have been with me longer than anyone else, and it feels so strange. Sometimes I fear that I will wake up one day and you won't be here anymore."

Harry pressed his hand gently. "That won't happen. I promise." He shifted slowly so that he was facing Corben. The latter looked distressed – his eyes were heavy, and when Harry looked closely, he could see the neverending signs of exhaustion written all over his features. What Corben needed more than anything was a good few hours of sleep and perhaps a week long holiday where there would be no talk of career. Unfortunately, it wasn't possible to do any such thing, at least until his results came out (which was a good year away) so Harry had no choice but to give him what he had at the moment.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" he asked Corben, which immediately brought a large smile over his face. He nodded enthusiastically like a child. "Alright then. In the meantime, try not to think about your health, okay? We are going to a health expert soon, and I promise everything will turn out great. Just focus on your training. Don't you want us to be colleagues?"

"It's easy for you to say," muttered Corben, his initial enthusiasm bursting like a bubble. "I cannot not think about my health – it's like constantly talking to me. You won't understand, Harry. I mean, look at you! You are perfect."

"Hey!" Harry said it like he was offended by the compliment. "I'm not perfect. No one is. Did you see my glasses? I've had them since as long as I can remember, and I am blind without them. I have awkward gait, disobedient hair, skinny legs. I even have knobby knees."

Corben had a weird smile on his face. Then, surprising Harry, he reached up suddenly and kissed him on the jaw. "Okay, I get your point, but I have to disagree with one thing. Your hair is great. I love it. Don't ever call it a flaw."

Harry laughed and kissed him. "As you wish."

They sat there for a little while longer before Harry pulled him up to his feet again. "Let's watch a movie," he said, grinning triumphantly. "And, you have to watch whatever I choose, because I have run out of horror movies."

Corben, however, wasn't phased. Instead, he grinned back just as triumphantly. "Well, about that." And out of the pocket of his jacket, he extracted a CD. "The Ring. I heard it's great."

Harry sighed dramatically. "I suppose I really don't have a choice now."