A/N: Based on the song "I Can't Help Myself" by Nobody's Angel.

Draco glanced through the steam rising from his cauldron. The potion was supposed to simmer for a few minutes before he proceeded to the final step. His eyes automatically sought out the raven-haired Gryffindor that so occupied his thoughts recently.

Harry bent over his Potions book, looking like he was trying to decipher something, then shrugged and added a pinch of powdered beetle shell. Draco found this odd as that was not one of the ingredients in today's potion. However, Harry smiled and looked up, catching Draco's gaze. Draco hurriedly looked away.

He's so lucky, Draco thought. He doesn't have any problems. He's always happy. I wonder what he thinks about that he always seems so bloody cheerful.

Draco added the last two ingredients to his potion, gave it a quick stir, and put out the fire under his cauldron. As those around him did the same, Slughorn called out, "Step away from your cauldrons! Bottle some up and bring it up here; I'll check it later."

As the professor strode to the door, Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Slughorn had already gone.

All the students packed up their supplies and headed out of the dungeon classroom. Draco ended up walking right behind Harry. He listened to the conversation Harry was having with Ron and Hermione, but he wasn't listening to the words. Draco was absorbed in the sound of Harry's voice, watching the back of his head as though mesmerized. Too late, Draco realized he had followed them almost to Gryffindor Tower.

Harry turned and glared at Draco. Ron, seeing this, spun on his heel and confronted the Slytherin. "Are you following us, Malfoy?"

Draco's sneer came automatically. "I can walk where I want, Weasel. Where are you off too, anyway? Going to send a letter to Mummy with your monthly allowance from Potter for being his friend? If not for that, he'd be dead since nobody would help him and your family would starve, leaving Mudblood Granger here all alone. Temper, temper!"

Ron had lunged forward with his hands outstretched like he was attempting to strangle Draco. However, Harry, anticipating an outburst of this sort, had already hooked his arm around Ron's neck, dragged him to a wall and slammed him against it before Ron could do anything he would possibly regret.

"He's not worth it, Ron," Harry said to his red-headed friend as he kept him restrained. He then turned to Draco and spat, "Run, you twitchy little ferret, before I let him go and come after you myself."

Draco stormed off, but not before hearing Harry tell Ron, "I wasn't about to let you get in trouble for something that's his fault."

That's what's good about Harry, Draco thought to himself. Always loyal to friends. Always watching out for them. I wish I was one of those people he watched out for.

"Harry? Harry!"

Hermione's shrill voice snapped Harry out of his daydreams. He had spent the last five minutes staring at Draco Malfoy from across the Great Hall and Hermione had spent four of those minutes trying to get Harry's attention.

"What do you want, Hermione?" Harry asked irritably.

"I was asking if you thought that was obvious enough," she jabbed a thumb over her shoulder to where Ron and Lavender were snogging a little too enthusiastically, "but then I see you staring off into space with a really happy, dreamy look on your face. Were you looking at someone?" She smiled at the thought of Harry having a secret crush.

Harry glanced back to Malfoy and easily decided that he didn't want Hermione knowing that, so he tried to throw her off the scent. His eyes settled on a girl at the Ravenclaw table that wasn't far out of his sight-line to Draco. "Who is she?" he asked Hermione, subtly pointing to the girl.

Hermione looked for a few moments, digging around in the back of her head for a name. "Oh, you should know her, Harry! She's in our year. That's Lisa Turpin! Well, she goes by Lisa, even though it's her middle name. I found out when the professor called role in Arithmancy the first time in third year that her real first name is Budeen. She was named for her grandfather, Bud, and I really can't blame her for going by Lisa. She said her dad signed the birth certificate while her mother was still full of painkillers. Her parents are Muggles, and she lives in the southern United States. She's really quite nice. There's just one problem."

"What's that?" Harry asked blankly as he digested all this information. Hermione could remember a lot.

"I saw her walk in about two minutes after I started trying to get your attention. So weren't staring at her. Who were you staring at? And don't lie. You know it's practically impossible for you to lie to me."

Harry heard the truth in this statement, so he decided to mostly tell the truth and just bend it a bit.

"Okay, I'll tell you," he consented. Hermione leaned in to hear him better. "But you can't tell ANYONE, understand?" He glanced back over at Draco, and, keeping his eyes on him, said, "I don't want everyone to know who I like, especially since I don't think he likes me back. I've been down that road before with Cho, and that ended in disaster." He looked at Hermione, who sat there with slightly widened eyes blinking at him. "What?"

Hermione pointed at him and her voice faltered in her throat. "You, um, you said 'he.' Was that a mistake?"

Harry thought about it. Was it a mistake? Was wanting a relationship with Draco a mistake? It might be, but he wanted to try to make it the best damn mistake he would ever make. There was no use hiding that from Hermione.

"No," Harry said slowly. Even this might be more than her above average brain could comprehend. "It wasn't a mistake. I said 'he' and I meant it. I think I'm gay."

The expression of shock on Hermione's face was equivalent to being suddenly hit in the nose with a tin of breath mints.

Then she broke into a small smile. She grabbed Harry's hand, said, "Come with me," pulled him up from the bench, and dragged him all the way up to his dorm. She planted him on his bed, hugged him, and sat across from him on Ron's bed.

"So," she said, "tell me. Tell me everything. Who is it? What year is he in? What house is he in? Is he even still at school? How well do you know him? How well do I know him? How long have you liked him? How long have you known you're gay?" She gasped. "Does Ron know?"

Harry just stared at her. "No, Ron doesn't know. And you're being surprisingly accepting about this. No 'Are you sure'? So 'Maybe this is just a phase'? Nothing?"

Hermione shrugged. "Well, when you're neighbor comes out to you over the summer and your cousin sends you a letter saying he's dating him, that kind of attitude seems pointless when it happens again. I can't change anything, only you can. All I can do is pump you for information until you crack. So," she finished, "talk."

Harry took a deep breath. "Well, he is in our year, so we've known him since first year. I kinda figured I liked him about a month ago when I realized I couldn't stop thinking about him. And you're the only one who knows I'm gay so keep it to yourself. That's it." He folded his arms across his chest, as if daring Hermione to ask him the one question he knew was burning a hole in her tongue.

"That's it?"

"That's all I'm saying for now."

"You're not going to tell me who it is?"

"I'm thinking there's a better chance of twin dwarves coming to visit tonight than there is of me telling you who it is."

"Well then," she pouted. "You know what you need to do."

"Tell him," Harry admitted.

"Yes."

Harry got up off his bed and enveloped Hermione in his arms. For now, she was his rock in this and he needed her to know how much more he loved her because of it. He let go, kissed her cheek, and went to the stairs. When he was almost out the door, he took pity on her and turned back.

"Hey, Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"It's Draco Malfoy."

Harry heard her gasp but flew down the stairs and out the portrait hole, not once looking back.

He was walking past the corridor leading to the Room of Requirement when he heard Draco yelling. He peeked around the corner to see a first-year girl cowering under Draco's towering form.

"You dunce!" he screamed and smacked the girl on the back of the head. "What if someone saw you? If the Potter idiot had followed you here, it would all be over! Do you understand? Over!"

Harry turned and fled the hall and slipped behind a tapestry to think. Draco was always so cool and confident, it was unnatural to see him so frazzled. He couldn't believe that Draco would hit that poor girl and the comment about he, Harry, being an idiot stung. But what hurt the most was that Harry knew he couldn't do anything to restore Draco's calm.

That night, Harry was not very responsive to anyone. He didn't laugh at any of Ron's jokes. He didn't do his homework like Hermione said he should. He didn't even answer Ginny when she asked if he wanted to play Exploding Snap. Eventually, he got up without a word to anyone and went to bed, where he had a dream in which he was falling and Draco swooped in to save him.

Draco couldn't sleep at all. He kept picturing Harry in his head and thought his mental image was too perfect. To settle the argument with himself so he could sleep, Draco dug around in a stack of Daily Prophets until he found one with Harry's picture. He was slightly shocked that he had remembered Harry's face so well and lay back on his pillow, carefully tucking the newspaper under it.

The next morning, Harry and Draco found themselves walking out of the library and down to the Great Hall for breakfast right next to each other. As they approached a narrow staircase, Harry lost his footing and Draco automatically reached out to steady him. However, both boys ended up tumbling down the steps.

They reached the bottom and landed sprawling, Draco laying face-down on Harry, who was face-up.

They lay there on the cold tile, gasping for breath and half-laughing. Then Draco's face hardened and he rolled onto the floor and sat up straight. As he started gathering his books that had fallen out of his bag, Harry sat up himself and grabbed Draco's hand. Draco smiled.

They packed up their bags, stealing glances at each other the whole time. When they stood up, Harry brushed the hair out of Draco's eyes and Draco took Harry's hand. They walked off with fingers intertwined.

Standing on the landing at the top of the staircase under Harry's Invisibility Cloak, Hermione giggled at what a well-aimed Trip Jinx could do.