The problem, Harry decided, lay in the fact that he had begun thinking. Two weeks after he returned from his fourth year at Hogwarts, Harry Potter had lain awake, pondering a topic near and dear to the heart of every teenage boy, wizard or Muggle – sex. Now, Harry had, at that point, had one single object of desire, the Ravenclaw Seeker, a year ahead of him, named Cho Chang. Cho, however, had been rather serious with Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff who had been one of the other three TriWizard competitors. Therein Harry's difficulties began.

Cedric had been killed during the final task by Voldemort, the most horrible Dark wizard known to the wizarding world. Harry reckoned that it was at least partially his fault that Cedric had died, and therefor at least partially his fault that Cho Chang had been devastated and heartbroken. This led him to the conclusion that no matter how much attraction he felt towards her, he could never, ever act on it in any way. Thus he was left with a problem – how to stop being attracted to her.

After an hour or so of discarding potential solutions, Harry had hit upon a nearly foolproof plan – substitute someone else for Cho in all his fantasies and thoughts. The problem was coming up with the someone else. His initial plan was to substitute someone that was the antithesis of Cho – ugly, stupid, horrible flyer, no interest in Quidditch whatsoever – but that plan was abruptly terminated when he realised that the person that most fit the description was Pansy Parkinson. No way would he ever be able to convince himself to even think about her without retching. Just before sleep finally claimed Harry, a last thought came unbidden to his mind. What about a guy?



The next morning, Harry awoke with a vaguely disturbing feeling. He was almost certain that it was somehow related to his dreams. While normally he had disturbing dreams that were connected with Voldemort, he was immediately aware that this dream had nothing to do with his nemesis. As further confirmation, he was rapidly becoming conscious of the fact that he was lying in something wet and sticky. Realisation slammed into Harry's brain as he jumped up and hurriedly made the bed. Better wet and sticky in the evening than for Aunt Petunia to find out. Equally quickly, he shed his pajamas and slid into some of Dudley's hand-me-downs. This year's crop weren't quite as oversized, thanks to the Smeltings staff's effort to reduce the size of Dudley's waistline, but Harry still swam in them. Safely attired, all evidence hidden, Harry paused to reflect on his dream – and why had it been so disturbing?

As Harry sat and let his mind wander over the bits and fragments of the dream that he could remember, he gradually began to understand that the incredibly erotic dream he had just had was not, in fact, about a woman, but about a man. Harry was even more disturbed. He liked girls. Girls like... no, no, don't think it, don't say it, must forget her. Girls like... damn. What if Cho was an aberration? Nothing more? What if the Boy Who Lived really was... the Boy Who Loved Boys? Gay? Harry didn't know much about the attitude towards gays in the wizarding world, but it wasn't generally the best in the Muggle world, and Uncle Vernon in particular was very outspoken against fags' and their queer' ways that were contaminating' the rest of the population. This was hardly a good opinion of gays and not the one that Harry needed. Besides, what if the dream was the aberration, and not liking Cho? How was he supposed to know? Ah. He could look at both genders, check them out, and then decide. Perfect plan. Only... how? The only people he saw were his aunt and uncle and Dudley, and he knew he found none of them attractive in any way, and purely repulsive in a sexual way. There weren't many hot witches or wizards hanging around Privet Drive. He couldn't ask Ron; what if Ron freaked out? Hermione would want to research why he felt that he might be attracted to other guys.

Then Harry smiled. Sirius. Surely Sirius wouldn't laugh. I've got that one letter almost finished, he thought. I'll write a separate one with my questions on it. Pleased to have a plan, Harry decided to write the letter quickly before the rest of the household woke up – and before he lost his nerve.

Dear Sirius,

This is a very hard letter to write. I'd appreciate it if we keep its topics on separate letters, as I do allow Ron and Hermione to read your replies, generally, and I'd prefer they not know anything about this, at least for now.

Okay. Here goes. How do you know if you're gay? Please, please, don't freak out on me. It's just... I had this incredibly erotic dream last night and I was with this incredible guy (didn't look like anyone I know – unfortunately!) and I've never had that kind of dream about a girl. There aren't a ton of hot witches OR wizards parading down Privet Drive, you know, so I can't exactly watch them all to test myself, although that was my first plan.

Secondly, IF, and that's a HUGE if, I was to be gay, how does the wizarding world view gays? I realise you might not know, really , and that's fine, but the Muggle world is relatively prejudiced and many people have strong feelings against it, so I was just wondering.

Whew. Please reply quickly.


Harry


The letter done, Harry sent Hedwig along with it and the previously written letter, and then he sat back to await a reply. Lately it had been taking Hedwig half a day or less to return with a reply from Sirius, leading Harry to believe that he was very close by indeed. He even suspected he could get a reply within a few hours this time. Harry was not disappointed.

Aunt Petunia had set him to weeding her flower beds in the back yard when a large black dog bounded up. Harry's eyes widened as the dog placed a sheet of parchment at Harry's feet, instructing him to come for a walk that night at 11 PM in front of the Dursleys'. Harry quickly nodded, then shredded the parchment and worked it into the dirt before Dudley or Aunt Petunia could notice. When he looked up again, the dog had disappeared.

Harry had never both dreaded and anticipated an hour so much before. At 10:45, he could wait no longer, and, ignoring the butterflies fluttering ominously in his stomach, Harry crept down the stairs and out the front door, and stepped into the moonlight only to collide with –

Sirius! Is it safe to show your face like this? Harry was startled and concerned.

Shh, Harry! Yes, yes, it's fine, we're working on getting me cleared, enough that I can go around in some neighborhoods. But I'm here to help you.

Harry reddened, and Sirius must've sensed it, because he yanked Harry's chin up, staring into the green eyes.

C'mon, I know you're embarrassed, but better me than anyone else. Besides...

Harry was now curious.

Besides, you won't find many wizards with experience on both sides of the coin, Sirius mumbled.

Who's embarrassed now? Harry mocked, then softened and allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. The two walked in companionable silence for awhile. Wait! Where're we going, Sirius?

To Arabella's house.



Oh, gods, Harry, I'm sorry. You don't know! Why Dumbledore didn't ever tell you is beyond me, but... anyway. Your Mrs. Figg is actually a witch that was a year or two ahead of us at Hogwarts. Arabella Figg.

Harry groaned. Does she know what we're going to be talking about?

Not talking, Harry, showing, deciding. And no.

The pair reached the house, Sirius let them in, and he showed Harry to a back room, where he gave him two packages. Here. When you're done looking, think for a bit, then come find me. He gave Harry a final smile before closing the door.

Curiously, Harry opened the packages. One was full of wizard porn magazines, and the other was full of... gay wizard porn magazines. Harry grabbed at the regular' magazines out of desperation, but was forced to conclude moments later that he found them somewhat boring. Full of trepidation, he reached for the other stack.

It was some time later when Sirius knocked on the door and opened it slightly. Uh, Harry? You didn't fall asleep, did you? Because we only have so long before dawn, you know.

Harry was startled. Had that much time really passed. Oh! No, no, I didn't fall asleep. But I, um... I think I found the answer to my question.



It's not exactly the one I was looking for, but I guess I kind of knew.

Sirius had entered the room and sat in a chair, nodding understandingly. I felt the same way. Of course, I didn't have to find out this way.

Harry cocked an eyebrow questioningly, and Sirius smiled ruefully and continued.

I had one of my best friends suddenly appear in my bed one night. I had been... questioning... things before, but Remus brought it all to a head, you could say.

Harry's eyes nearly goggled out of his head. Sirius and Professor Lupin?!? Then he just smiled, as Sirius was still talking.

Now, well, you've got it tougher. Wizard world's a bit better about gays than Muggles, and it's better than it was 17 years ago, too, but it's still hard to actually find someone else, especially someone else that's out. I'm not saying you should hide it, but... you'll want to be discreet about who you tell. Especially being you. You have to trust that person and everyone that they might possibly tell.

Those words continues to ring in Harry's ears for the next few weeks as he did the chores that the Dursleys assigned and thought about the next school year. Hmm. I'm gay. Gay. Interesting. Can I tell Ron? Somehow I don't feel comfortable with that. He might think I like him or something. Wait, do I? No. No, definitely not. Phew. Okay. So. Can I tell Hermione? She might have Muggle attitudes, but... I think I might could actually tell her. Maybe.

Harry thought about the boys at Hogwarts. Were any of them out? Any of them like him and maybe looking but not wanting to be out? Even if they were all gay, he couldn't put a finger on anyone that struck his fancy. In retrospect, he realised he had unconsciously eliminated several of the students, but at the time, it wasn't noticeable at all.



A letter from Ron, inviting him to stay at the Burrow, appeared a few weeks before school started. His family had already gone to Diagon Alley, he wrote, but Mr. Weasley was sending a Ministry car around to Diagon Alley in two days, and Harry could stay at the Leaky Cauldron for two nights and complete his own shopping before using Floo to reach the Burrow. Harry was a bit confused as to why he might need two days to shop but then realised he was actually slightly grateful to have another chance to explore Diagon Alley alone, and complete his shopping alone.

The day arrived, and Harry took his leave of the Dursleys quickly. He settled in at the Leaky Cauldron in the afternoon and set off immediately to take care of some of his shopping. He went by Gringotts and made a substantial withdrawal, exchanging nearly half of it for Muggle money. He planned to finally get some new Muggle clothes as well. On the way back to the Leaky Cauldron for dinner, he stopped to get his ink, parchment, quills, and potions ingredients, so that the most boring part of his shopping was taken care of.

The next morning, Harry rose early and set off for Flourish and Blotts. With a little time, he found a section for gay wizards, and he selected two titles, both of which he buried amongst his school books and a couple of texts on advanced defense against the dark arts, something he figured he needed. Bookstore errands complete, he went to Quality Quidditch Supplies and ordered new attire, since he had shot up to a respectable 5' 11 over the summer, and filled out decently as well. His last stop was at Madam Malkins, where he requested more tailored school robes, as well as some attire made of dragonhide. Finally, he decided to purchase some robes that were neither school or dress, seeing as nearly everyone else in Diagon Alley wore robes as everyday attire. He had a good deal of fun picking out robes that complemented his coloring and frame. Pleased with his new purchases, he dropped them off at the Leaky Cauldron and headed into Muggle London. Hailing a taxi, he adopted a bad American accent and asked for the best places to go to shop. The driver let Harry out in front of Harrod's, and pointed out several more shops as well as good restaurants along the same stretch of road. Harry spent several hours in the stores, pausing only for a quick lunch from a sidewalk vendor. By dinnertime, he did not want to wait through the drive back to the inn, so he ate at one of the expensive restaurants, enjoying himself thoroughly. He returned to the Leaky Cauldron laden with packages, pockets considerably lighter. As he prepared for bed, he stopped to think for awhile.

He didn't want Ron or Hermione to think he had somehow changed, become shallow or a snob or anything. He just wanted to actually take pride in his appearance for once. He hadn't had any new clothes aside from school robes since he could remember, and now he had taken an opportunity that presented itself. It wasn't just that, though, he admitted to himself. He needed the confidence boost. Harry still wasn't even sure about coming out to Hermione, much less Ron, and he was sure that he would never attract anyone if he continued to look like he slept in his clothes. Resolving to act the same as always despite his outward appearance, Harry took out one of the books he had selected from the gay wizards section, and stayed up late reading about wizarding attitudes, regulations, and social conventions among the gay wizards in Britain. Fascinated, he finished the book before collapsing in his bed some time after 3 AM.

It was 9 AM before Harry woke the next morning, and he realised he had one more errand to run before he could pack and Floo to the Burrow. He decided it was finally time to get new glasses, if not lose them completely. He went back into Muggle London where he got silver-colored wire frames for his lenses, as well as contacts. While extraordinarily happy with the look of the contacts, he concluded that was exactly the type of change that might be looked upon unfavorably by his two best friends, and he resolved to save them for after they had adjusted to his new look somewhat. Shopping complete, Harry went back to Gringotts to obtain pocket money for the upcoming school year. In his room, he removed all the Muggle clothes that he had previously owned and burned them in his fireplace. He had taken his old school robes to a secondhand store the day before, and his trunk was now empty enough to hold his new everyday robes, new school robes, dragonhide pants, dragonhide boots, and the various Muggle clothes he had purchased. Harry put on a pair of black jeans, a tight white t-shirt, and black Converse All-Stars and closed the trunk, placing Hedwig's cage on top. She had taken another letter to Sirius the night before and Harry had instructed her to wait at the Burrow. Harry looked at his watch (new) nervously. It was nearly lunch time. Harry started to adjust his glasses before realising that his new ones didn't slide down his nose at all, then he took his things downstairs and went to the fireplace. Taking a pinch of Floo powder, he waved goodbye to Tom, threw the powder in, then jumped in with his things, and shouted out The Burrow!