A/N: This is not one long story. It is a series of little ficlets, at the most 5,000 words, but for the most part relatively small. They are each based on a quote that will be written at the bottom, and nearly all the stories relate to Harry being gay. Pairings throughout will include HarryxSeverus or HarryxDraco. Those are really the only Harryxmale pairings I write. Warning: There may be some Ron-bashing; he tends to be an ass when Harry says something in the books he doesn't like, and I can see him pitching a fit if he found out Harry was gay. This is an ongoing "story": I won't work on it as extensively as my other stories.

BTW: For my loyal readers who like my drabbles at the end, I won't be doing that for this, seeing as most of the chapters are extremely small and a drabble may overtake the length of the chapter :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the quotes. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfictions about them.

It certainly wasn't news to him that the castle was talking about him. If anything, it was becoming a rather common occurrence. Of course, that didn't mean he appreciated it—it just meant he was far too used to it to do anything about it anymore.

"Mate, aren't you gonna say something?" Ron, mouth full, whispered at him from across the table. Really, the teen had no idea how disgusting it was to look in his mouth while he talked. Nevertheless, Harry continued to pile food onto his plate, ignoring the looks and gossip circulating no less than two seats down from him.

At least this time the gossip was true, not some loony trash-talk about him being the Heir to Slytherin.

As he ignored Ron's comments and Hermione's stares, he wondered what Hogwarts had talked about before he was a first year. Who was the center of the gossip station, the one that had to watch their steps and make sure no one had any dirt on them? How had they dealt with being the center of attention? Were they still at Hogwarts during his first year? If so, they must have greatly appreciated Harry's presence, he thought to himself.

First year everything had been so very new and weird, even the smallest bit of gossip had gotten to him, and Malfoy had not had an issue shouting every piece of gossip he thought he had, especially when it surrounded Harry.

"Potter's dueling me at midnight tonight; I'll beat him for sure."

"Potter's from a muggle household; he doesn't know anything about being a wizard."

"What's the matter, Potter? Scared to fly?"

"Potter's been sneaking out to visit dragons, haven't you, Potty?"

There had certainly been no shortage of gossip, but most of it was tattling. Still, there had been nothing to do but deal with it, and by the end of the year, Malfoy's garbage had been the least of his worries.

Ron interrupted his reminiscing.

"'Arry, you alright, mate? You haven't said anything since that ferret started that nasty rumor. You know it'll all blow over eventually, right?" Of course it would blow over, and of course he knew. It wasn't even like he was too worried about it.

Second year—that had been an issue. All that trash-talk and gossip about him being the Heir of Slytherin. His only encounter with Slytherins had been less than pleasant to say the least; why would he even dream about joining Voldemort and killing muggleborns? Hermione, of course, was living proof he had no reason to be the heir, yet Hogwarts and her students had seen fit, once more, to make him a scapegoat.

Just like fourth year, not to mention the third year gossip from those that knew his relation to Sirius Black. Yes, his life had been full of adventure since starting Hogwarts.

The fourth year "Potter's an attention-seeking whore" comments combined with the gossip that could have gotten him expelled fifth year regarding Dumbledore's Army had been brilliant.

He sighed, rising from the table despite Ron's obvious movements showing he wasn't done. Five years of rumor mills and disturbing gossip, true or false, outrageous or not, and he was still alive and intact. If anything, by year six, he had started to learn a thing or two.

"Copernicus." The Fat Lady portrait swung open, and he waved at Luna Lovegood, sharing a conspirational wink before climbing the steps to his dorm room for an early bedtime. The day had certainly been interesting to get through. He thought back to breakfast.

"Luna, can I ask you a favor?" The girl looked over her shoulder at him as he motioned towards the corner.

"What is it, Harry?" He made sure no one was listening in on their conversation before leaning in to whisper in her ear.

"I need you to somehow let it slip to Malfoy that I told you I'm gay." She looked at him incredulously, an expression that was quite out of place on her face—normally she was the one freaking everyone else into silence.

"Are you?" He nodded. "So by getting everyone accustomed to it through the rumor mill, when you actually come out, it won't be as big a surprise." She had caught on unsurprisingly fast. That was why he trusted her with it.

"I'll do my best, Harry."

"Thanks, Luna."

"Good luck with the day. Look out for those foofle snorlackles."

"I'll be sure to do that." His patented answer for all that nonsense.

Falling asleep, he realized he was getting better at the celebrity-media concept, something he had previously thought impossible.

*Pay no mind to those who talk behind your back. It simply means that you are two steps ahead.*

PLEASE REVIEW! I 3 YOUR OPINIONS! NO FLAMES PLEASE