To his credit he said no at first, but Ron and Hermione's knowing grins told him that he wouldn't get out of this easily. So with a sigh and a strained smile he gave in. So here he was, standing outside a seemingly vacant warehouse, complete with boarded up windows and gang signs. There was a faint shimmer that he couldn't really see around the building. Harry tried to use his own wandless magic to reveal the building but for once he was not strong enough. As they stepped up to the door the felt like he had stepped through a curtain. After a few minutes the door opened and Harry found himself thrust forward by two familiar set of hands. While Ron's were eager and pushy, Hermione's were gentle yet convincing. As the dark hall welcomed him, Harry found himself wondering what he had agreed to.
Eventually the dark hall lightened into a deep, ruby red and let him walk on his own. There were doors lining the walls, each had a fantasy or game etched on them; Lost love, Beast, Regret, Abuse, and even some odd ones that made no sense to him. Harry was not intrigued until he reached the last door; Deepest Wish. Having one in mind he knocked lightly and opened the door. Inside was a simple layout of a red leather couch, a king-size bed with black sheets, and an oak door that presumably led to the washroom. Glancing around, he sunk into the couch with a sigh. After a few minutes the soft iridescent glow dimmed down into a candle-like light and soft music began to play.
"Well, this is a first. I've never been this before and never had I dreamed that I'd be it with you." A soft melodic voice whispered in his ear.
Harry knew who it was of course, at least who he was disguised to be. It had been a hidden secret of his for many years. All of his friends –who was left at least-, knew he was gay, they also knew he didn't date. What they didn't know was why. They didn't know how the bickering turned to snogging, how the hexes turned into soft kisses, how the punches turned to caresses, or how the hate turned to love. They never found his picture, kept in a silver frame beneath his pillow and they never heard him cry. To this day he still dreamt of his face, his smoky grey eyes that had specks of blue in them, his silvery blonde hair, and his smile. Harry shook himself out of his reverie and looked up to see Draco Malfoy smirking at him.