Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any of the characters described in this story, nor do I own
the Harry Potter world. All credit goes to J.K. Rowling.
A/N: Yeah so this story is based on Draco's boggart being his dad, so obviously Lupin has to be teaching the class. I thought it was weird for them to be thirteen, though, so this is set in sixth year. Just pretend that Lupin teaches DADA in HBP.
Harry rolled his eyes at Ron. "Don't be stupid," he said, "you'll do fine." The two were walking to Defense Against the Dark Arts while Ron was blabbering nervously about the upcoming quittich match. Ron was a good player, but his nerves tended to get in the way. Ron mumbled something about 'how would you know' and 'easy for you to say' as they entered the classroom.
The desks were pushed back against the wall, the benches stacked, and the floor cleared. In the center of the room stood a large, ornately carved and polished wardrobe. He and Ron raised their eyebrows at one another before joining the rest of the students in the back of the classroom. Everyone was chattering loudly; they were going to be learning about boggarts today, and everyone was excited to see what the others' looked like. Harry looked around, searching for Draco Malfoy. He found him in the corner, looking distinctly bored, but Harry noticed him fiddling with his ring behind his back. He smiled at this; he loved all of Draco's little quirks. He had recently come to terms with his being gay, after much coaxing by Hermione. He was not pleased to realize that his obsession with Malfoy was not because he hated him, but quite the opposite. He had told Ron and Hermione, who, eventually, grudgingly accepted it.
Professor Lupin's sharp voice brought Harry out of his daze. "Now, we've all learned the theory behind defeating boggarts, now all that's left is to actually do so. You know the spell, I trust, so we will get straight into it," he said, eliciting murmurs and sideways glances from the students.
Harry had been thinking about what his boggart would be, and he had come to the conclusion that he was most afraid of losing Ron or Hermione. Voldemort had, of course, come to mind, but the death of his friends seemed a much more real threat. This had brought him to decide what he could possibly turn his friends' corpses into that would be even remotely funny. He continued to think about this as he and his classmates formed a line, Ron being the first. Harry enjoyed watching the five or so people in front of him turn wolves into puppies, spiders into tea cozies, and snakes into slugs.
He walked up to the boggart, tuning everything else out. As expected, the lifeless bodies of Ron and Hermione appeared before him. Although he know that his friends were right behind him, he still found himself panicking as he turned them quickly into stuffed teddy bears. He realized the room had gone quiet, and Ron and Hermione were looking at him with pained expressions. Feeling his face flush, he hurried to the back of the classroom. Seated safely into the corner, he took his mind off the draining experience by watching what ridiculous things his peers were afraid of.
A few minutes later, he perked up a bit as Draco stepped forward. He had no idea what his boggart would be, although he suspected it had to do with having imperfect hair. The boggart spun in place, morphing into...Lucius Malfoy? Harry blinked in shock as Draco turned on the spot and stormed out of the classroom. The room went quiet, and then burst into discussion. Undercover of the commotion, Harry slipped out after Draco without thinking. He wasn't sure what he was trying to accomplish, attempting to comfort a Slytherin. All thought ceased, however, when he saw Draco. He was seated behind a statue, hands pulling his hair, tears streaming down his face. The sight made Harry's stomach drop.
He stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do, before walking up and bending down beside Draco. Draco's head snapped up, looking horrified that Harry was there. He scrambled to his feet, attempting to insult Harry, but really just sounding pitiful as his voice wobbled and cracked. Hearing him in pain like that, Harry was sure his heart was being shred to pieces. He reached out and grabbed his wrist, causing Malfoy to freeze.
"Wait," Harry said quietly, struggling to not pull him into a hug, "I'm not here to tease you. I-I want to help."
"I don't need your help, Potter, let go of me," Draco retorted, but his voice had no fire to it and he made no effort to extract himself from Harry's grip.
Encouraged by this, he walked Draco behind a tapestry that led to a hidden room. He motioned for him to sit, which Malfoy obeyed, still looking as though he would resume crying at any second. Harry sat down next to him and said softly, "I can't pretend to understand what happens when you're at home, but I can understand what it's like living with people who treat you terribly. And I'm not here to pity you either," he said in response to Draco's inevitable protest, "It just...it might help to talk."
Miraculously, Draco didn't shoot a snarky comment at Harry, but nodded slightly before bursting into tears once more. He was clearly trying to stop himself, by Harry knew from experience that it wouldn't work. Unable to resist, he put his arms around Draco, his hand at the nape of his neck, pulling them together. He felt him resist before relaxing completely and sobbing harder. Harry made no effort to stop him from crying, but instead let him, tracing small circles on the back of his neck. It took several minutes for the sobs to subside, but when they did, Draco stayed in Harry's arms, breathing heavily.
Harry could not believe his luck. He was actually holding Draco Malfoy! Of course, the circumstances could've been, better, but he really couldn't bring himself to care. "Shh," Harry whispered, still rubbing Draco's neck lightly, "It's alright. We can stay here as long as you like."
The feeling of Draco so close had Harry's every nerve on fire, and he tried to ignore the excruciating heat radiating off the other boy's body. There seemed to be a rowdy dance occurring in the pit of his stomach, and his heart threatened to break his rib cage. They remained that way for a few minutes, before Draco began to move. Harry's heart sank, assuming he would leave, but was extremely pleased when he scooted closer to Harry, burying his face in Harry's shoulder.
"Harry," he muttered softly, "thank you."
"Anytime," he replied, and then added, "really, though. Anytime. I mean it. I want to help."
Draco smiled into Harry's sweater, and Harry's heart skipped a beat. Or three. "I love you, Harry."
He nearly choked, even though he wasn't eating. "Sorry?"
Draco was clearly as shocked as Harry, and began scrambling up, saying, "I-um-I mean, thanks. So, yeah, I guess. Right. Okay."
Harry abandoned all caution as he pulled Draco back down and whispered softly, "I love you too."
The other boy froze in shock, but he didn't question Harry. He relaxed and pulled back so he was looking at Harry in the eye. Harry leaned in until their foreheads were touching, breathing hard. "You're not joking?" Harry whispered, still cautious that this could be a cruel prank, and that all of Slytherin house would be waiting to jump out at him.
"No. Definitely not joking."
Harry smiled, looking straight into Draco's eyes. They were usually a cold, hard gray, but they had softened and looked warm and bright. He had never noticed it, but Draco had a very light, almost invisible sprinkling of freckles across his nose. He giggled (yes, giggled) as he said, "You've got freckles. Malfoys aren't supposed to have freckles."
"Maybe I'm not like the other Malfoys."
"I know you're not."
The proximity of their faces would be uncomfortable under different circumstances, but Harry couldn't think of a more comfortable place to be at the moment. He became painfully aware of Draco's hot breath on his lips, his slightly shaky breaths, his trembling fingers on Harry's back. Draco glanced at his lips, then back up to his eyes. Harry was fairly sure this was a universal sign for kiss me, you idiot, so he gladly obliged. Their lips brushed ever so slightly, sending shivers up his spine. And to other places. Their kiss was tentative at first, soft and filled with unspoken words and unacknowledged emotion. Draco bit Harry's bottom lip lightly, eliciting a rather embarrassing sigh of content. Harry smiled to himself as he pulled Draco in and planned to never let him go.
A/N: Sorry, it's lame. It went faster than I wanted it to, but you know. Close enough, am I right? Let me know what you think!