Disclaimer: If I owned them, the epilogue would have been different.

Summary: I can tell you what you want but I don't think you will believe me so I will draw your desires for you.

Pairing: Harry/Draco

Author's Note: This is the first fan fiction I am publishing, please review and tell me your thoughts. Thank you for reading.

What are You Looking at?

'I am an artist Harry and I am very good at observing people. I can tell you what you want but I do think you will believe me so if you let me, I will let you discover it yourself.' Dean said and after a little incredulous hesitation, Harry had agreed. That had been three months ago and Harry had all but forgotten about the entire thing thinking that he would figure things out for himself now that he no longer needed to worry about defeating Voldemort.

However, he was shocked when he entered the Great Hall that morning after three months of silence from Dean Thomas. Harry entered the hall for breakfast and his progress was immediately arrested as he froze in shock when he saw the life-size paintings of himself that were displayed on one side of the wall. Eight paintings in total. One for every year that he had been at Hogwarts including last year when he had only come back briefly to defeat Voldemort.

What shocked him the most though, was that he had the same expression in all the paintings. In some of the paintings, he stood still and watched something openly, in others, he watched something discreetly and in two which he recognised as sixth year and during the battle of Hogwarts, he looked frantically around before he found what he was looking for and then stared at whatever it was. In all the paintings, he wore a complex emotion on his face but even a fool could recognize the painful longing and love that there were so publicly displayed.

In bold letters above the paintings was the question, 'What are you looking at?' Before that moment, Harry could have honestly said that he had no idea but even though he had never seen that look on his face before, he knew what he wanted to look at now and couldn't because everyone in the hall was looking at him.

Harry felt exposed, naked under the scrutiny of so many eyes and he could not help the anger that came over him directed at his dorm mate. He knew why Dean had put the paintings there, but he also didn't like this feeling of being so exposed. Taking a steadying breath, he continued his trek to the Gryffindor table and took the seat next to Dean.

'Do you get it now?' Dean asked and Harry bit his lip trying to stay the sharp comment that was on the tip of his tongue. He would not have agreed to this if he knew it would be such a public thing, but there was no taking it back.

'I get it but did it have to be like this? You could have just told me.' Harry sulked.

'Would you have believed me?'

Harry sighed, he wouldn't have believed it. The paintings were unbelievably detailed and Harry could remember now the moments in time when he had such feelings.

He hadn't hated Draco Malfoy when they first met at madam Malkin's. Really, he hadn't. Malfoy was so beautiful and despite his foul mouth and arrogant attitude, Harry had been drawn to him. Drawn to that beauty and self-assurance that he himself hadn't had. Things had escalated dramatically however. Harry had met Ron and his new friend did not like the beautiful boy and Harry had wanted to be accepted so he made a choice. When Malfoy was sorted to Slytherin house like he had predicted, Harry could not help but look at him longingly. Regret filling him for the chance at reconciliation that would not come and deep down, he hadn't wanted it to be that way. He had wanted to stay by him but he hadn't had enough willpower to do so.

The succeeding years had not been any different. Malfoy treated him and his friends as if they were dirt beneath his feet but still, Harry couldn't despise him from the bottom of his heart. He hated him in some part but he also realized that to hate someone, you have to love them in the first place. Hate was another version rather than the opposite of love and he hated Malfoy with a passion he had for nothing else. The boy could make his blood boil within a few seconds of conversation but he could also make his heart thump in anticipation. He would deny it if ever asked, but he respected Malfoy's evil genius and although all other Gryffindor's insisted that Snape favoured him in potions, Harry knew that Malfoy really worked hard and was passionate about the subject.

Then there was that time in sixth year when he had almost killed Malfoy. His heart had stopped then. Harry had felt a terror that had crippled his reasoning and body. Somewhere in his mind he had known that he did not want to live in a world where the blond Slytherin was not. That thought had scared him so he pushed it to the back of his mind. It was now just coming to him but he found that the moments he had been most terrified in his life involved Malfoy. The bathroom incident, the fiendfyre in the room of requirement and that terrible moment in seventh year when he could not locate Malfoy during the battle.

Harry admitted he had never been rational where Malfoy was concerned and with that admittance, he could come to terms with the fact that he loved Malfoy. Malfoy who called his friend 'Mudblood', and Malfoy who never missed a chance to call Ron 'weasel' and taunt his poverty. Malfoy who was brilliant in potions and Malfoy who used his genius to make Cedric Diggory and Weasley is our king badges. Malfoy who had stood beautiful under the moon and aimed his wand at Dumbledore. Malfoy who called Harry scarhead and then hid in a bathroom to cry when things got too rough in sixth year. Malfoy who took people's presents in second year but made sure not to touch those that belonged to his friends. Malfoy who had insulted his family, friends and more than once, hurt all. Harry loved Draco Malfoy who had more bad qualities than good. Ironically, Harry did not think he wanted the blonde to ever change. He was mercurial and disagreeable but the world also needed such people and although his character would never be popular, he was what Harry needed and wanted.

Harry Potter sighed in defeat and stood up. Dean Thomas smiled, thankful that he didn't have to put up the paintings he had made of Malfoy. Unlike Harry, he didn't think his safety would be guaranteed if he put up paintings of Malfoy wearing a moonstruck expression on his face.

'Where are you going Harry?' Hermione asked looking at Harry curiously.

'To confess my feelings.' Harry said and started the walk across the hall to the Slytherin table. He could hear the urgent muttering as people passed the gossip to those nearest them. Harry Potter was going to confess his feelings, they all repeated and watched in bated breath as he approached the Slytherin table.

Draco Malfoy watched the slow approach of Harry Potter, being the last table in the hall meant that the gossip did not reach him before the arrival of the person himself. He noticed Potter was looking straight at him.

'What are you looking at?' He asked, a sneer on his beautiful face and Harry could not help but smile.

'You off course.' Harry said cheerily. 'I am looking at you.'

They stared at each other as if trying to see into each other's minds. Draco knew instantly that Potter did not simply mean that he was looking at him now, he was answering the question of the paintings. He understood. Potter had made his resolve, Draco would also need to make his. He stood up and walked around the table to stand beside Potter before he grabbed him for a passionate kiss which stunned both the students and teachers present. Harry put his arms around Draco's neck, and Draco pulled Harry closer to him by his waist, they let the rest of the world fall away and sunk into a world only they belonged.

End.

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