Title: Not Only the Ring Finger Knows
Author: Arawna
Disclaimer: Anything pertaining to Harry Potter and Co. does not belong to me, rather to JKR and anyone else who has stuck their hand into this cauldron. Also, the basic plot for this particular story belongs to Satoru Kannagi.
Summary: Matching rings can cause quite an uproar, especially when said rings belong to the two most different people in school. Of course, it wouldn't take too terribly long for everyone to find out about it.
Not Only the Ring Finger Knows:
The newest Muggle fad seemed to sweep Hogwarts, and everyone seemed to jump right onto that bandwagon, even the purebloods that scoffed at other Muggle trends. Of course, other such trends didn't involve wearing intricate rings, tying you to those that matter most. Matching rings on the left middle finger: friends. One ring on the right ring finger: single. Matching rings on the left ring finger: lovers. Of course, many girls would wear a ring - or rings - on their left middle and ring fingers, or the left middle and right ring fingers, stating their dating status and claiming who their best friends were.
Some, however, didn't follow the craze, despite the frenzy. One such person was Harry, who wore a single ring - gold and silver wrapped in a Celtic knot with a single diamond in the very middle - on his right ring finger. It's not that he was showing that he was unattached; it was that that specific finger was the only one that the ring would fit on, and he felt weird about attempting a resizing charm on it. Ron always gave him a hard time about his ring, despite the fact that he himself wore a bright gold band on his own left ring finger, which matched Hermione's to a 'T'. Of course, Harry didn't mind, after all, it was one of the only things he still had from his parents: he thought it may had been his father's wedding ring, but he had no way to confirm that, since anyone who would've weren't around anymore to answer any of Harry's questions.
He never took the ring off, except for when he was bathing and when it was a brewing day in Potions. Coincidentally, it was a brewing day in Potions and Snape was feeling excessively malevolent. For reasons unbeknownst to the entire class, the sneering professor paired Harry with Malfoy.
As per usual, Harry removed the ring from his finger and set it beside the cauldron, where he always set it so that he may know where it was, always. Malfoy ignored Harry as he opened the text to the confusion-inducing potion they had learned about the day before.
Arranging the ingredients in order of use, Malfoy sneered, "If you can't follow my instructions exactly, just sit back and watch. I am not about to fail a potion I could complete whilst wearing a blindfold by allowing you to mess it up, Potter. Am I clear?"
"Blindfolds, Malfoy?" Harry smirked, rolling up the sleeves to his school robes. "I didn't mark you for the kinky sort."
"You don't even know the meaning of kinky," the blonde smirked back. He combined the first few ingredients together in the cauldron and brought the concoction to a boil. Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Malfoy cut him off. "No, you don't, Potter. Whatever cockamamie idea you have in that pretty little head of yours about what you think kinky means is a bunch of bullocks. You're a Gryffindor; you could never comprehend what comes naturally to us Slytherins."
He added the next ingredient, ignoring the open-mouthed, offended glare Harry was shooting at him.
"Hand me that knife, would you, Potter," said Malfoy, pointing to the paring knife not five inches from Harry's hand. The Gryffindor didn't make a move to give Malfoy the blade, but kept staring at him.
"Potter," Snape's voice made Harry jump slightly. It wasn't that the man scared him, it was just that…okay, the man did scare him. Just a little. "If you would cease your vexing ogling of Mr. Malfoy, then there may be a slight chance that you could help him, and therefore an even slighter chance that you receive a decent mark on this potion."
Harry's glare moved from Malfoy to Snape, but, just at the younger Slytherin had done, the greasy haired man ignored him and left him and Malfoy to finish their potion.
"Now,would you hand me the bloody knife?"
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Consequently, the potion turned out just fine, but that was only because Harry refused to have any part of the damned thing unless it was handing items to Malfoy to add to the brew. Malfoy, predictably, received top marks, while Harry, undoubtedly, received whatever came a few rungs down on the hierarchy of the grading scale. But he didn't care; he just grabbed his ring and left the classroom with Hermione and Ron. Being their free period, the trio found sanctuary in their red and gold decorated common room.
The 'happy' couple plopped themselves down in the loveseat and struck up a conversation about nothing in particular, leaving Harry to make himself comfortable in the armchair next to them. After a few moments, Hermione noticed that Harry hadn't taken an interest in the topic of conversation and was bent over his hands, fiddling with something small and metallic.
"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked her friend.
Harry looked up at her with a worried expression. "Something's wrong with my dad's ring. It doesn't fit."
He demonstrated this by sliding it onto his right ring finger, where he always wore it, and it resized itself and slid off his finger. Harry attempted again, but again to no avail. One by one, he tried it on his other fingers, but all had the same results, until he came to his left ring finger. The ring readjusted itself to fit snuggly on his finger.
"I don't know what happened," said Harry, concern lacing his words. "When I took it off for Potions, it was fine on my right finger - it stayed put. But now, now it won't fit any other but this one." He pointed to his finger adorned with the gold and silver ring. "I don't know what to do."
Rolling her eyes, Hermione pointed her wand at the ring, muttering a finiteunder her breath. The ring, however, remained where it was, and when Harry attempted to replace it on his right finger; it resized and slid off again. He gave up and placed it back on his left ring finger.
"Harry," Hermione whispered. "I don't think that's your ring. This one isn't charmed, but was obviously made with magic so that it would fit the ring finger of whoever wore it. This ring belongs to someone else and whoever's this one is has yours."
"Fuck," Harry breathed, dropping his head into his hands.
"Think, Harry, you said the last time you had it off was in Potions," Hermione said. "Maybe while it was off your hand, someone switched it."
"Yeah, mate," Ron agreed, and then he laughed through his nose. "Hell, maybe someone switched it so that they could claim that you belong to them."
Hermione shot Ron a glare that, if looks could kill, would demolish a whole army of Death Eaters. Ron obediently shut up.
Just as Hermione was going to continue to comfort Harry, a loud banging emanated from the portrait to echo through the room. Then-
"POTTER! OPEN THIS BLOODY PORTRAIT!!!" The few people in the room cringed as Malfoy yelled at Harry through the painting. From inside, everyone could hear the Fat Lady protest Malfoy's ministrations, but she was ignored. "POTTER! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!!! NOW GET OUT HERE BEFORE I COME IN THERE MYSELF! SO HELP ME SALAZAR I WILL!"
Irate from all the yelling in his general direction, Harry threw open the portrait to find a furious looking Malfoy huffing and puffing and threatening to blow all of Gryffindor Tower down.
"How did you find our common room, Malfoy?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes at Malfoy.
"A little birdie told me," the Slytherin sneered.
"You mean you threatened a first year," Ron called from his spot on the loveseat. To Harry's surprise, there was none of the usual bite to his tone.
Malfoy let the accusation go with a shrug.
"Okay, now that we've established how you're here, mind explainingwhy you're here?" Harry asked, becoming impatient.
The blonde fixed Harry with a sneer before answering. "I want my ring back."
"Wh-what do you mean your ring?" Harry asked, taking a step back, away from the Slytherin. Malfoy followed him into the common room.
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I mean the ring that's currently on your left hand, you idiot. I want it back."
"No," Harry said disbelievingly. He clutched his left hand to his chest and kept retreating back.
"Yes. Now give it back," Malfoy snarled. He kept advancing until Harry fell backwards over the arm of one of the chairs, but the boy just kept looking at him like none of it was real.
"It can't be yours," Harry accused. "This is my father's ring!"
"No,this is your father's ring." As he said it, Malfoy threw a small, gold and silver ring into Harry's lap. "In case you hadn't noticed, the one you are currently wearing isn't nearly as tarnished as that one."
Harry picked up the small band and held it close. He took the other ring from his finger and held it next to the other one. They would be an exact match if it weren't for the fact that the one that Malfoy threw at him was indeed tarnished. He slid the tarnished ring onto his right finger, and it stayed put. He tossed the other ring back at Malfoy, who caught it with his Seeker reflexes and stalked from the common room.
Over his shoulder, he called, "See you in the library, Granger."
-------------
Needless to say, by dinner that night, the whole school knew that Harry and Malfoy had matching rings, albeit coincidentally. Harry, however, wasn't listening to the gossip; he was busy learning from his best friends and housemates just what the hell's wrong with the Ice Prince of Slytherin.
"What do you mean he's nice?" Harry asked shock very evident on his face.
Everyone around him shrugged.
"I wouldn't say 'nice'," Ron said. "He's more tolerable than anything. Hell, we made a compromise: if he stopped calling me Weasel, I'd stop calling him Ferret."
"We do arithmancy together in the library," Hermione said.
"He helps me with potions," Neville added.
Harry listened as his housemates went on and on about how tolerable Malfoy was as of late.
"But - but it's Malfoy," he said a last in an exasperated tone. "We used to have so much to complain about when it came to him."
"Oh, I have one complaint," Seamus said. Harry looked at him expectantly, as if looking for something to tarnish the new 'good boy' image Malfoy had created. "All the girls are attracted to him now and none of them will go out with me."
"Are you sure that's because of Malfoy," Dean grinned. The group laughed along with Dean.
A clear of the throat told Harry that there was a girl behind him who had just made herself known. When he turned around, he realized it wasn't just the one girl, but a small group. The one who had cleared her throat - a Hufflepuff, if the colors on her scarf were anything to go by - stepped forward. She had her head lowered slightly and her hands clasped in front of her. A faint blush colored her cheeks.
"Uh, um…Harry," the girl stuttered. "Do you - can you…uh…what I mean is…where did you get your ring?"
Harry just looked up at them like the whole lot of them was barking mad. "Why?"
The Hufflepuff bit her lip and looked around at her friends. Her blush deepened. "We wanted to match Draco's ring."
"Case and point," Seamus muttered.
The rest of the group snickered as Harry sighed at the girls. "Sirius gave it to me before…well, a while ago. He said it belonged to my father. I have no idea where it came from."
The girls let out a combined sigh of disappointment before they walked off.
"Girls are crazy," Harry announced, turning back to his dinner. This earned him a glare from the surrounding girls that weren't after his ring.
-------------
The Trio and sulking males sat around the common room generally minding their own business when a shy fourth year walked up to Harry, carrying a package clutched to her chest.
"Um, Harry?" she squeaked, holding out the package. "Would you give this to Draco, since you're friends and all?"
"No!" It was actually quite shocking to him that anyone would think that they were friends.
"But you have the same classes as him," she pouted. The whole common room turned an expectant gaze to Harry.
"But I don't wantto give it to him!" Harry retorted. "This is just going to feed the rumor mill and everyone's gonna think it's from me!"
Everyone just kept looking at him, trying to will him to accept this futile mission, while the girl just kept pouting at him.
"Oh, fuck," Harry sighed, dropping his head into his hands. "Why am I such a Gryffindor?"
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The above story is exactly how Harry found himself roaming the halls at midnight relying on his map and cloak to find Malfoy, since Hermione - being Head Girl - said that he had prefect duties that night.
Nearing the empty potions classroom, Harry glanced at the map once more. There in the classroom was Malfoy and a girl that Harry thought was from Ravenclaw. As he neared the room, he heard the voices filter through the door that was set slightly ajar.
"But I really like you, Draco," the girl pleaded. "Are you sure you won't go out with me?"
Harry could hear Malfoy shake his head, if that made sense.
"I'm sorry…Emma, right?" There was a pause for her to nod, Harry assumed. "Emma, I'm sorry, but I just don't feel the same for you."
Listening to Malfoy turn down the girl, Harry couldn't help by think that the Slytherin was being a gentleman; to someone outside his House, no less.
There was a sniff like she was trying not to cry before she rushed from the classroom. A moment passed before Malfoy strolled from the room, shutting the door behind him.
"You know, Potter, being out after curfew is grounds for detention," Malfoy said to the dark. When Harry didn't come forth, Malfoy tried again. "So, do you enjoy peeping? Or do you get your stiffy from following me around specifically?"
Harry threw his father's invisibility cloak from his shoulders to deny the accusation.
"Malfoy, I-" he started before Malfoy interjected.
"Oh, is that for me?" the blonde asked, pointing to the box in Harry's arms. "Potter, that's so sweet. I didn't mark you for the sentimental sort."
"It's not from me," Harry started, but he couldn't force himself to stop there even if he tried. "It's from a fourth year, and she asked me to give it to you, but I was thinking that it couldn't be your birthday gift because your wand's made of hawthorne so you'd have to be born between May 13 and June 9, and it's nowhere near May, but she wouldn't tell me the reason for the gift and I was dubious from the beginning but I'm such a fucking Gryffindor and-" And why am I rambling?
The look Malfoy was giving Harry was one of praise. "You're such a good boy-" He stepped toward the Gryffindor. "-Harry."
For reasons unknown to Harry, his breath caught in his throat when the Slytherin said his name, not his last name, but his given name.
"Aw, look at that," Malfoy smirked. "All I have to do is say your name and you're all weak in the knees. What if this isn't from some fourth year? What if it's from you? Do you fancy me?"
"NO!" Harry bellowed, but he could feel his face become hot nonetheless.
"Whatever," Malfoy shrugged, looking deflated. He shoved the package back into Harry's arms before turning on his heel to walk off down the corridor.
"Wait, you're supposed to take this," Harry called after him.
"Return it to the sender," Malfoy called back.
-------------
"You know, Harry, that was low," Hermione chided as they sat in the stands at the Slytherin/Ravenclaw Quidditch game. "You should have at leasttried to give him the present instead of creating a lie."
"I already told you," Harry tried for the millionth time. "I gave it to him but he gave it back. It's not a lie."
"Mate, it won't help. You're gonna loose this argument," Ron said.
Harry was just about to retort when Seamus pointed at the sky.
"Look at that! Did you see how Malfoy just…"
At the mention of Malfoy's name, Harry tuned out in favor of actually watching the game. Whatever Seamus was going on about, Harry was looking at it. Malfoy zoomed between players, pulling feigns, taking fast turns and pivots, diving at breakneck speeds, and generally pushing his limits. To sum it up: Malfoy was flying better than Harry had ever seen him fly before. Every trick, every grandiose performance, had the audience, male and female, awing at his broom handling. And for reasons that Harry couldn't quite grasp, he couldn't take his eyes from the boy.
Of course, since his eyes were on the Seeker in green, he never saw the Bludger that one of the Ravenclaw Beaters had sent toward said Seeker. Everyone gasped as the fiendish ball flew right by his head, barely grazing the blonde locks. Malfoy, however, fell from his broom and almost missed as he threw his hand out to grab the nose of his broom. With a flourish, he swept back up to straddle his broom. With another flourish, he called a time-out and motioned for the backup Seeker to come onto the field. A quick chat and a nod latter, Malfoy was leaving the pitch, but not without throwing a quick grin over his shoulder at Harry.
What's he up to? That Bludger didn't even hit him; he should still be playing. Andwhat's with that grin!?
"Harry?" Hermione tore him from his reverie. He glanced at her and noticed she was leaning in close, away from her boyfriend, almost as if she didn't want others to hear.
"Hm?" Harry hummed, turning back to the now dull game.
"Did you notice that Draco just grinned at you?" she asked.
"Pft. No he didn't," Harry whispered nervously.
Hermione sat back and rolled her eyes.
"Aw! C'mon! They were just about to win!" Dean yelled amidst the booing from all stands - well, except for Ravenclaw.
"You're cheering for Slytherin?" Harry asked, worried about his friend's mental health.
Dean shrugged. "Sure. I mean they play a good game, when they're not cheating. I just hope that Malfoy wasn't hurt too badly."
Something in Harry's chest constricted at the thought of Malfoy lying unconscious in the hospital wing. Despite the fact that he knew the Slytherin was just fine, he still wanted to see it with his own eyes.
"Er, guys, I have to um…go to the erm…" Of course my ability to create a lie will fail me at this moment! Just bloody brilliant! "I have to erm go to the…"
"Loo," Hermione offered. "He has to go to the loo, don't you Harry?"
"Yes! The loo! That's brilliant!" The faces staring up at him were suspicious. "I mean, I really gotta pee."
-------------
"I know he came in here," Harry muttered to himself as he walked into the locker room. "I watched him walk in here."
"Are you looking for me?" a slightly arrogant voice drawled from behind him. Harry spun to find Malfoy leaning against the lockers, his arms crossed and a familiar smirk set across his lips. "That's so cute, Potter, how you came rushing to me the moment I set foot off the field."
"I didn't…" Harry's voice trailed off as he lowered his gaze to Malfoy's shoes.
"Potter," Malfoy's voice was low, almost a whisper. Harry looked up, but the blonde was still smirking. "Your tie's askew."
Harry was about to fix it, but Malfoy's hands were faster as they straightened and tightened the gold and red stripes silk.
He has such pretty hands…such long fingers. But, where's the ring? Did he lose it?
Malfoy caught Harry's gaze as the dark-haired boy was looking at his finger. "I didn't lose it, if that's what you're thinking. I just don't wear it wear it during Quidditch, that's all."
The dreadful feeling that Harry had lost a part of himself had vanished, and this shocked him a little. Not that the feeling had gone, but that the feeling existed in the first place.
"I wouldn't be so stupid as to lose it again," Malfoy claimed. "This single piece of jewelry is more important to me than the whole of the Black and Malfoy inheritance combined. And that's really important to me."
"Leave it to you, Malfoy, to make a conversation go from something close to meaningful to a boast on wealth," Harry snipped, suddenly irritated with the blonde. Malfoy looked something between shocked and hurt as Harry went on. "And you claim that your ring is important to you? Well, it will never have the significance that mine possesses, merely because mine has meaning behind it. Mine wasn't just something I picked out at a jewelry shop. You just irritate me, Malfoy, and I hope to the gods that you will treat this ring just like everything else you have in your life: it's new and interesting at first, but as time wears on, you become bored with it and will throw it away!"
A roar erupted outside the locker room, telling the boys that the match had ended and they hand only a few moments before the teams would be filing in to change and shower.
"See you later, Malfoy." Harry turned on his heel and strode toward the door. He hadn't gotten two steps before Malfoy grabbed his arm and forced the Gryffindor to face him. "Malfoy, let go!"
"You never know when to shut up, do you Gryffindor?" And with that, Malfoy raised Harry's right hand to his face, pressing the twined metal band to his lips.
Harry couldn't move, even when Malfoy released his hand with a smirk and turned toward the showers.
-------------
"Harry, if you say it's because he hates you one more time, I'll hex you into next week!" Hermione threatened. She loomed over Harry, which wasn't really that hard as he was cowering in one of the large armchairs, attempting to escape her wrath. "Last time I checked, enemies go around cursing each other. What they do not do is go around kissing each others' hands!"
"But-" Harry tried to argue.
"Don't 'but Hermione' me, Harry James Potter," the girl seethed. "If you can't see what others are beginning to see, then you're denser than I thought!"
"What are others beginning to see?" Harry asked, mustering up his Gryffindor bravery.
Hermione sighed heavily and plopped herself down onto her boyfriend's lap, who had the mind to stay out of this little debate.
"Why?" Hermione asked the ceiling. "Why couldn't the damned Slytherin go out with another Slytherin, or maybe a nice Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff? At least then he would've saved me the trouble."
Harry mumbled something that Hermione didn't catch.
"What did you say, Harry?" she asked, noticing the way his face turned to more of a hurt pout.
"Is he going out with someone else?" he repeated, looking all the more hurt.
Hermione studied her friend for another moment. "Harry, are you…? You're not…? Oh, Merlin! You're jealous!"
"Am not!" Harry scoffed.
"Oh, I knewit!" his female friend rejoiced.
"Knew what?" he asked suspiciously.
"You have feelings for Draco." Hermione grinned as she said it. "More specifically: you love Draco."
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The new information about himself was still sinking in the next morning at breakfast. At first, he refused to believe that he could tolerate Draco, much less love him, but it did make sense in some part of his mind; the part that was happy when the blonde was around and sad when he was away. He came to accept that it was joy and not loathing he felt when he thought about how they shared the design of their rings.
When everyone else was engrossed with their own conversations, Harry chanced a look at the blonde boy seated at the other side of the Great Hall. But what he saw made his heart hurt more than just being away from the other boy.
There, sitting next to Draco, was the new exchange student from Beauxbaton's; with her dark hair flowing down over her Ravenclaw tie. He said something to her and rolled his eyes, but she laughed anyway. They exchanged what Harry assumed to by witty banter because one would say something and the other would laugh. When Draco reached for his drink, Harry could barely see the absence of his ring on his finger. Finally, Harry had to wrench his eyes away from the horrid sight. When he opened his eyes again, he was looking down at his ring, the one he inadvertently shared with Draco.
The gold and silver with the single diamond meant something entirely different than it had when it was given to him, and he knew that it would never return to that original meaning. Without anyone noticing, Harry removed his ring and placed it under the edge of his plate before he rose to leave the Hall.
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Harry, Ron, and Hermione were among the first to escape the Potions class that morning and were making their way to Transfigurations when they were interrupted. More to the point: Harry was interrupted.
"Potter!" Harry stopped when Draco called his name, and Ron made like he wanted to stop too, but Hermione pulled him along down the corridor. "I need to talk to you."
Harry waited for Draco to come to him as the rest of the students scurried about to their classes.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" He tried to act as if his feelings for Draco didn't exist.
"I want to know where your ring's at," Draco demanded.
After a moment, Harry answered, "I got rid of it."
"Why?" The expression on Draco's face was hurt, but Harry didn't notice since he wasn't looking at the other boy, but instead at something above his head.
"Because, I got annoyed that everyone wanted to know where I got it," Harry replied.
Draco studied him, just like Hermione did, but his studying made Harry more nervous. "You're lying."
"No, I'm not," Harry defended.
"Yes, you are. Now tell me the truth before I get Severus to give me some veritaserum so I can get the truth out of you. Don't think I won't do it."
Harry remained quiet for a moment, not sure how to answer.
"I saw you happy and realized that you would never look at me."
"I would never look at you, Harry?" Draco asked.
He suddenly stepped forward and pulled Harry into his arms. Before Harry knew really what was going on, Draco's lips were pressed against his, and his arms were around the Gryffindor's waist. Harry wanted to melt into his embrace, to forget that morning, and all the mornings, afternoons, and evenings before that, but the image of the dark-haired laughing with Draco stuck in his mind. With a sudden jolt of anger, Harry pushed himself from Draco's arms.
"Don't!" he yelled at the Slytherin. "Don't call me Harry. Don't kiss me. Don't pretend that you care for me!"
Harry ran from the blonde, toward Gryffindor Tower, not even caring about the rest of that day's classes.
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Seamus was still trying to console Harry two days later, but he wasn't having any part of that. The bespectacled boy just sat in the same armchair he'd plopped himself the day that Draco had kissed him. He didn't go up to the dormitory; he didn't go to meals; it was only by pain of death that Hermione had convinced him to even shower. It was very evident that the boy was moping.
"C'mon, Harry, you've gotta do something," Seamus pleaded. "How about we play Exploding Snap? Or maybe we could play a game of chess? C'mon, what do you say?"
But Harry didn't answer. He just kept staring off into the fire. That is, until Hermione came through the portrait with a dark-haired Ravenclaw on her tail.
"-you see, that's exactly what I thought," Hermione agreed with whatever the other girl had said. When she saw that Harry was still in that armchair, she marched right over to him and hit him with her text book. "Harry James Potter! You get up right now and do something, anything! You can't mope around all day and night!"
"Ow, Hermione!" Harry cried at his friend. But when he saw the girl standing behind her, he huffed and crossed his arms.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry, this is Esmeralda."
"'Ello, 'Arry," she greeted in a heavy accent. Still, Harry refused to greet her.
Hermione rolled her eyes again. "Harry, from what I gather, you assumed that she and Draco were a couple, and you made a royal arse out of yourself." Harry relaxed his shoulders. "I'm gonna let her explain the whole situation that you have obviously misinterpreted."
Harry sighed and turned to face the French girl.
"Pardon ma anglais," the girl said. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear before continuing. "Draco'z mere et ma mere are…friendz. Uh…Me and Draco 'ave been togezzer zince we were petite children. 'E iz like a brozzer to me." She then smiled softly. "I was wizz 'im when 'e got 'iz ring. 'E saw it and…told me zat ze one 'e liked 'ad almost ze same ring, and zat it would mean ze world to 'im if 'e 'ad zat ring. But 'e told me zat ze perzon 'e likes got rid of 'iz ring, and now Draco…mopez around and 'e barely leavez ze dormitory."
Harry looked up at the girl. "I didn't get a word of what you just said."
"Oh, for the love of--," Hermione sighed. "She said that she and Draco are almost like family and that Draco bought the ring because someone he likes had the same ring. Then when that someone got rid of the ring, he went into a depression and now he won't leave the dormitory."
Since he was male, it took a few minutes for everything to click in Harry's head.
"Oh, Merlin! He loves me?!" Harry exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?!"
"Because you wouldn't believe me if I said it," Hermione said. "And Esmeralda was busy trying to get Draco out of his own stupor."
The boy looked up at the two girls standing over him. "I think I'd better go." He raced for the portrait hole, just barely catching as Esmeralda yelled the Slytherin password at him.
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"Draco," Harry called as he launched himself through the Hidden Wall that was the entrance to the Slytherin common room. At first, he didn't see the blonde anywhere in sight, but a second glance showed that he was sprawled out on the couch, staring at the intruding Gryffindor, his eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and joy.
Harry ran over and jumped onto the couch, mostly on top of Draco, and pressed his mouth to the blonde boy's. His kiss was instantly returned. After a few moments, Harry broke the kiss and nestled himself against Draco.
"So does this mean you love me?" the Slytherin asked after a long pause.
Harry nodded his head against Draco's shoulder and muttered, "Yes."
Draco placed a kiss on Harry's head. "Then would you do me the honor of wearing this?"
On his left ring finger, not one, but two rings shone in the soft firelight. He pulled the first one off and placed it in Harry's hand. When Harry put it on his right ring finger, it resized itself and fell off.
"But it's yours," he said, looking at the blonde. "It won't fit this finger."
"Well, duh," Draco replied with a grin. "It'll only fit your left ring finger, like it was made to do. And since yours fits my left ring finger and not yours, I figured we could switch so that they both fit our left fingers."
"But how did you get it?" Harry asked, looking at the ring.
"The house elves brought it to me," Draco replied. "They thought it was mine, despite the fact that they said the found it on the Gryffindor table. I figured I'd keep it until you realized you love me."
"Aw, the Big Bad Slytherin does have a heart," Harry cooed.
"Oh, bite me, Potter." It probably would've had more of an effect if Draco hadn't been grinning impishly.
"First blindfolds, then biting, Malfoy? I guess you are the kinky sort."
FINS