Coming Out
by Reiko Katsura
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: T
Summary: Harry Potter, sick of hiding his relationship with Draco Malfoy, decides that he wants to come out to the world. Draco Malfoy, the more rational of the two, thinks that this might not be the best idea. HPDM Slash. One-shot.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. No Copyright Infringement Intended.
A/N: This was a challenge made by Luna Nera, in which I happily accepted. See you at the end, yeah?
Challenge: OK, I would like a cute Draco/Harry or a Harry/Severus one-shot, preferably one where the whole school finds out they're together. rated T. (-Luna)
::Coming Out::
Harry Potter watched his two best friends walking down the hall above him, hands locked together and shoulders not-so-subtly brushing, and he sighed.
It wasn't that Harry wasn't happy for the two of them-- no, he was ecstatic that Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger had finally stopped being stubborn head-cases and admitted that they liked one another, even though it had taken six years for it to happen. There couldn't have been a more perfect pair, in his opinion. Well, aside from him and his own lover.
Yes, you heard right. Seventeen year old Harry Potter, the most sought out after boy at Hogwarts, had a lover.
A lover that he loved very much.
A lover that no one knew about.
A secret lover.
"Harry, mate?"
Harry was pulled out his thoughts by that familiar voice, and he looked up, startled, to see Ron and Hermione looking back at him, hands still clasped, and staring at him oddly.
"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione asked, her head slightly tilted, "you just stopped walking."
Harry momentarily wondered how they even noticed that, since they had been so clearly occupied with one another, but thought better of saying it aloud. Instead he forced a smile, nodded, and continued to move forward.
As soon as he caught up with the two, Hermione and Ron resumed walking, only sparing Harry one last curious glance. Harry ignored it, naturally; he was always on the receiving end of such glances.
The trio-- or couple and an extra third wheel, as Harry deemed fit to call them-- entered the great hall leisurely, not even paying attention to where they were going as they headed towards the Gryffindor table.
The Great hall during the evening was as packed as usual, and the Gryffindor table especially so, but as soon as the three students made their way towards their usual seats, a space opened up for them just big enough for the trio to squeeze in.
"Aren't you guys a bit late?" Neville Longbottom, a plump boy with sandy brown hair and large ears, asked.
"Well, we all know why Ron and Hermione are late." Seamus Finnegan, the Irish pervert, smirked mischievously, and wiggled his eyes at the couple.
"I hope you guys weren't getting it on on the couch again," Dean Thomas, a tall black boy, inputted, his nose wrinkled.
"Hey!" Hermione snapped, her face scarlet, "we do no such thing!"
"That's right!" Ron insisted, "we're much more subtle than that!"
Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at Ron amusedly. Hermione slapped her hand over her face and sighed.
"What?" Ron demanded, insecure.
"Ron," Ginny, his younger sister said, and placed her hand over his shoulder, "just shut up."
"Please." Hermione muttered, but nevertheless smiled comfortably at her disgruntled boyfriend.
Ron huffed, and chose to ignore everybody by grabbing a fork from beside his empty plate and beginning to fill it up.
Moments passed before anyone even realized Harry was there. And honestly, Harry wished they hadn't. Seamus, good old Seamus, was the first to ask what everyone else was wondering. "What's wrong, Harry? You're being too quiet for normal."
Harry, lost in his thoughts, didn't hear him.
"Harry?" Hermione asked, louder.
Startled, Harry shot his head up, and his eyes widened when he realized that everyone was looking at him.
"Er…. Yes?"
"What's wrong, mate," Ron asked, and Harry was momentarily amazed that the red head could even speak properly with his mouth being as stuffed as it was.
"Yeah, Harry," he turned to look at Hermione, "you've been oddly quiet all morning."
Harry was about to shrug it off, and tell them that nothing was wrong-- because really, what else could he say? Oh, don't worry about me, guys. I'm totally fine. Just a bit envious of you because you get to flaunt your relationship to the world when I cant. But don't worry about it. That's just the jealousy speaking. Right. Like he would ever be able to say that. Still, he opened his mouth to assure his friends that he was indeed alright (at least physically), when he caught sight of something beyond depressing. To the side and across from him, Neville and his girlfriend Luna Lovegood (who didn't even belong at their table, for Merlin sake!) were snuggling up against each other. Another furtive glance around, and Harry despondently took note of how Hermione and Ron were holding hands, and Seamus and Lavender Patil were slyly grinning at one another, and Dean was blushing madly at something Mareta, a 6th year Gryffindor, was whispering in his ear.
Yes, Harry was definitely jealous.
Still, he forced a smile, and shook his head at Hermione and Ron.
"I'm fine, guys. Just tired. I think I'm going to turn in early tonight."
Ron looked bewildered. "But it's only five--"
Harry yawned, purposely cutting Ron off, and tried his best to appear sleepy. With a watery, slow wave at his friends, and a murmured "see you later", he got up from the table and made to leave the Great Hall. He wasn't slow about it, either.
Once outside the hall, Harry let out a sigh that he didn't even know he was holding. He shook his head, trying to clear his muddled mind-- because he did feel tired, though for different reasons altogether-- and slipped his hands into his pants pocket as he started down the hall.
Harry was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn't even realize someone was trailing him.
Not even down the first corridor, and Harry had already passed two couples making out. He scowled heavily as he rounded the corner, walking into the fourth turn towards the direction of the main staircase. The hall had finally become empty, and it was quiet aside from the faint sound of Harry's footsteps softly clanking against the marble floor. This was one of the most desolate places in the building, Harry knew, and that said a lot; Hogwarts castle was huge. But down this hall, there were only two doors to rooms that had long since been abandoned (and no one but Harry and a select few knew how to get into, to Harry's knowledge), and a large statue of some witch or other. No portraits with wandering eyes lined the walls, and rarely any student passed by there, since this particular hall descended from the back of the stairwell.
Harry knew this, because he ventured down to this corridor more often than not.
He was just about to enter the wide clearing at the end of the hall that was open to the back of the stairwell, when Harry felt something grab onto his shoulder. Instantly, and with great force, he was jerked back roughly, and he stumbled backwards. Before he could even let out a shout of surprise as he was hauled into a dark place, something warm clamped itself over his mouth, and his exclamation was muffled into nothingness.
"Harry."
Harry froze.
"Dwaco?"
The warm thing, which Harry soon discovered was a hand, fell from his mouth, and the pressure that was holding his shoulders down released. Harry turned around, and was surprised when he came face to face with the grey, stormy eyes of Draco Malfoy.
Harry took moment to just stop and think. He rakes his eyes over the surrounding area, and realized at once that he was in one of the abandoned rooms. It was dark, but not to the extent that he couldn't see anything. Regardless, Harry pulled his wand out from his robes, and whispered lumos. The room immediately lit up.
When Harry looked forward again, and saw the face of Draco Malfoy, his supposed arch nemesis, staring at him with an amused, quirked brow, he grinned.
"What's this, Draco? Being a Slytherin not sneaky enough for you? Now you're resorting to kidnapping innocent, adolescent boys and locking them in abandoned classrooms?"
Draco flipped his shoulder length silver blonde hair to the side and turned his nose up haughtily. "Of course not," he drawled condescendingly, though his eyes were dancing, "Malfoy's do not kidnap, Harry. We are above that."
It was Harry's turn to quirk a brow. "Oh? So what's all this, then?" He spread his hands out in gesture.
Draco smirked. "Unless your name happens to be Harry Potter, of course." he amended.
Harry chuckled.
It was silent for a few more moments, but the pause was anything but awkward. Harry and Draco took the time to give each other a sly once over, and as soon as they were finished, and both seventeen year olds were grinning at each other, the distance between them quickly diminished into nonexistence.
"My, my, Potter," Draco breathed so close to Harry that Harry was unsure whether or not it was his breath or Draco's, "eager, aren't we?"
If possible, Harry moved closer still, until their bodies were crushed so tightly together that it nearly hurt. "Maybe," he returned, impishly.
"Maybe? Well, then, I guess I will have to force you into reason."
"Yes, you should. You really should."
Draco needed no more invitation. Roughly, he brought his and Harry's lips together, and quite frankly, attacked. His lips mashed against those of his lover's, and if not for them both being well experienced in this particular sport, their teeth would have surely clashed from their zealous desperation.
Harry's hand roamed to the back of Draco's robe, and quite expertly, began to hitch it up to his waist. Without taking even a moment to break the kiss, the raven head snaked his hand underneath the thick black robe (which Harry was finding to be rather hindering at the moment), desperate to touch the pale skin on Draco's lower back. Harry pinched the area above Draco's arse hard, and Draco arched backwards with a hiss.
"Who's the eager one now?" Harry breathed against his blonde's ear, and lightly began to suckle on the thin, warm lobe.
"Shit, Harry," Draco groaned as Harry pushed his groin against his rabidly hardening one, "We've got to stop."
Harry froze.
It took a few seconds for the meaning of Draco's words to register fully in his brain, and when they did, Harry closed his eyes tightly and said through his teeth, "Why?"
Draco bit his lip, and after a disappointed sigh (or shudder, Harry couldn't quite tell at the moment), he stepped away from Harry and looked up at him apologetically.
"Sorry, Harry," Draco apologized, mournfully, "but I've got those extra lessons with Snape about now." Draco pulled out his wand from his bunched up robe, and muttered Tempus. The wand immediately read 7:05 p.m. Draco pocketed his wand and sighed again, "And I'm already five minutes late."
Harry closed his eyes, exhaled deeply, and then shook his head.
"It's been two weeks, Draco," he said lowly, "two weeks since we've had sex. Two weeks since either of us have seen each other for more than ten minutes," and then louder, "two bloody weeks!"
Draco flinched at Harry's sudden outburst.
"God, Draco! I'm so freaking sick of this!"
Draco narrowed his eyes. "Sick of what, exactly?"
"Sick of everything!" Harry said, exasperated. Angry. "I'm sick of having to sneak around. I'm sick of lying to my friends all the time. I'm sick of not being able to spend any time with you, and none at all on some days."
Draco made to interject, but Harry didn't let him.
"I'm sick of having to insult you in front of everyone just so we could keep up this nemesis farce. I'm sick of having to hear my friends talk bad about you, and not being able to do a damn thing but agree. I'm so fucking sick of this, Draco!"
The words, words that Harry had been dying to voice aloud for months, erupted from his mouth, and he could nothing to stop them. And when he did finish his emotional rant, Harry didn't think that he wanted to keep them in. Harry wasn't stupid-- He knew that Draco felt exactly the same way. He just had to, if the longing looks and hidden smiles the blonde sometimes cast his way in the halls or in class were any indication. But it was the point that they both felt this way, and yet Draco was determined not to do anything about it.
"Harry, you know--"
Harry rolled his eyes, "Yes, I know. We can't tell anyone about us because you're a Slytherin and I'm a Gryffindor. Because of some fucking rule that some idiot bloke came up with more than a thousand years ago."
Draco cast his gray eyes downward. "You know that's not the only reason, Harry," his throat clenched, "my parents--"
Harry sighed loudly, and cut Draco off again. "I know, Draco. I know," he muttered, not unkindly. Draco's parents, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, were the most troubling part of their relationship. Draco was convinced that his parents would disown him for being gay, and not because it was horribly frowned upon in Wizarding Society, but because of the statement that would make to his family. By Draco choosing to be with a man, he would technically be saying that he refuses to continue the Malfoy blood-line. Though Harry was quite positive that Draco's mother would never allow his father to disown him, Draco was quite sure that his father would have no qualms against stripping Draco of everything that belongs to the Malfoy name, and strongly believed that his Mother would be able to do nothing to stop it from happening. Suddenly feeling bad, Harry took a look at the dejected man in front of him and sighed again. "I know, Draco. I'm sorry. It's just--"
"You're frustrated," Draco offered, knowingly.
"Yeah." Harry nodded. He bit his lip, and then: "When I see all those couples walking down the halls holding hands, and all the people making out behind statues, and sometimes even the middle of public, I just get so jealous. Why can they be able to flaunt their relationship, to let theirs be known, when we can't?"
Harry was close to tears now, and be it from the bitter resentment he felt welling up inside him or just outright sadness, he didn't know.
Noticing the glassy sheen of Harry's green eyes, Draco made no hesitation to step up towards his lover, and wrap his arms around his shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Harry."
Harry shook his head into Draco's neck, "S'not your fault, Draco."
"No, it is," Draco sighed, pulled away, and then smiled at Harry bitterly, "it's my fault that I'm too much of a bloody coward to stand up to my Dad and tell him about us. I'm sor--"
He was cut off when a sharp pain appeared in the back of his head. Draco winced, and then turned glaring eyes to the one he knew was responsible.
"That hurt!" He complained petulantly, and Harry couldn't help but snort.
"Prat. If I wasn't so accustomed to your body, I would have figured you to be a girl."
Draco gaped at Harry in mock rage, and then lifted his nose into the air indignantly. This caused Harry to snort out in laughter, which led him to fall into full blown guffaws; the type that shook your insides and rattled everything else.
"Git." Draco muttered, fondly.
Harry wiped his eyes, which had traces of tears in the corners, and grinned. God, he just loved Draco so much.
"Git?" Harry scoffed, and affectionately bumped shoulders with the Slytherin. "Who even says git anymore?"
"Bloody wanker, that's what you are." Draco narrowed his eyes.
Harry sighed, content.
"Snape will kill you if you get to his class even later than you are now, you know." Harry reluctantly reminded Draco.
It was Draco's turn to sigh. "Right you are," he muttered, and then made to straighten up. Harry didn't even bother helping Draco in this act, since the Slytherin had made it known on many the occasion that he'd rather Harry not make him look worse. Also, Harry didn't feel the need to, honestly, since he didn't think he would be leaving this room even after Draco left. He needed a time and space to sulk after the blonde was gone and Harry was left, once again, alone to wallow in his thoughts.
"Are you alright, Harry?"
Harry looked up, startled, but forced a smile when he caught Draco's glance.
"Yeah. Just tired." he let out a yawn that he been surfacing the edge to emphasize his point.
Draco returned the smile, but didn't look very convinced.
"You'll go to bed right after I leave?"
"Can't. I have a Charms essay to finish up."
Draco frowned. "Don't procrastinate then, Harry. Hurry up and finish and then go to bed."
Harry resisted the urge to smirk, always amused at the Slytherin's protective antics, but instead settled for a grin and a nod, hoping to appease him.
Insufficiently satisfied, Draco pulled Harry closer to him, and kissed him swiftly on the lips.
"I'll see you soon, love. There's a Hogsmeade trip tomorrow, you know. We can sneak away for a bit. Maybe even spend the night somewhere. It's been a while since I've been able to wake up with you in my arms." Draco indulged the both of them, knowing that it might not be possible. It usually never was. They'd only been able to do such a thing no more than five times since they first got together, and that had been more than seven months ago.
"Sounds great, Draco."
Draco smiled beautifully at him.
He kissed Harry a final time, murmured he loved him, and then left the abandoned room smoothly, heading in the direction of Snape's classroom.
Harry sighed, and after a few seconds of standing and staring at the door where Draco disappeared from, he slumped down onto the ground, pulled his legs up to his chest, and buried his face into his knees.
"Sounds great."
Harry wasn't in any better a mood the following morning. For starters, he was beyond tired. By the time he had gotten to the Gryffindor common room last night, it had already been nearing ten o'clock. He had lost utter track of time, which resulted in him making it back late and starting his essay even later. When he was finished with the darn thing, which had been around twelve o'clock, Harry had all but crawled into his bed, shut the curtains around him, and rightfully passed out.
When Ron had woken him up at eight in the morning for breakfast, Harry had growled at him. Ron had smartly backed away after that, and left Harry to wake up on his own.
It was an hour later, and Harry was still tired.
"And they opened that new Quidditch store in Hogsmeade! We're so checking it out, right Harry?"
Harry smiled briefly at Ron, and then dropped his gaze back to his scrambled eggs and bacon. Ron had been talking about the new Quidditch supplies store for an entire month already. Usually, he would have been a bit more excited, but-- Harry glanced up at Ron and Hermione, who were snuggling together in the space opposite him, and then around his immediate table to the other couples that were cuddling--he found that he just didn't care. He wasn't in the mood for a lot of things these days.
"Harry, you alright?"
Harry smiled and nodded at Hermione. He opened his mouth to assure that he was fine, but closed it when a female voice sounded from next to him.
"Stop babying him, Hermione," Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister said as she pushed Dean over and squeezed herself in next to Harry, "you know Harry hates that. Don't you, Harry?"
Ginny Weasley, Harry thought, was annoying. Beautiful, perhaps-- with her soft red hair that looked almost a dark yellow in the right light, and stunning brown eyes-- but very annoying. She fawned over Harry more than no other, and claimed that she loved him, though had no qualms about snogging and sleeping around with other guys. She was a man eater, to put it simply. As much as he hated to think of Ron's little sister that way, Harry knew that as soon (though unlikely) as Ginny was able to get into his pants, she would lose interest in him quickly enough.
Draco hated Ginny.
"Why did you get back so late, Harry?" Ginny purred, and scooted closer to him, "I was waiting up for you all night."
"You were what?!" Ron spluttered, indignantly.
Ginny shot a look of annoyance at her brother. Poor Ron, Harry thought, still in denial that his sister was a philandering vixen. Ginny Weasley could give a Siren a run for its money. Mermaids had nothing against the red head.
"Just out." Harry said tightly, shrugging off the small hand that had begun to caress his shoulder. When Harry felt a hand run up his thigh, he jumped.
"Lay off, Ginny,"he hissed at her.
Ginny huffed and rolled her eyes, but nevertheless removed her unwanted hand.
"You're no fun, Harry. When are you going to learn to loosen up a little?"
Instead of answering, Harry just shot her another distrustful glare. Ginny rolled her eyes again, and turned around to start gossiping with Lavender Brown. Tiredly, Harry sighed and dropped his hands into his crossed arms. Merlin, he just wanted to sleep. Well, maybe that wasn't all he wanted, but it was a close second.
Harry stayed with his head in his arms, only barely aware of the chattering going on around him. When things began to die down, and everything had almost become quiet, Harry frowned.
"Malfoy?" Harry heard Ron hiss.
Harry's head shot up.
Craning his head back, Harry's eyes widened when he caught sight of Draco, hovering behind him. Draco wasn't paying any attention to him, though. He was too busy glaring at Ron.
"Weasel." Draco sniffed, haughtily. Ron turned red.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, forcing politeness, and honestly not doing a very good job of hiding her resentment. She had a hand on Ron's shoulder, trying to restrain him.
Draco wrinkled his nose in obvious distaste. "Granger," he said, lowly, "Hello to you, too."
Hermione looked affronted.
The hall had become eerily quiet, Harry vaguely noticed. Though he was surprised that he had, since, for the life of him, he couldn't even tear his eyes (or attention, for that matter) away from Draco Malfoy.
Finally-- finally-- Draco turned those stormy gray eyes on Harry.
He smiled.
"Harry," Draco greeted, and then, rather abruptly, forced his way into the seat next to him. Ginny shouted in indignation when Draco forcefully shoved her away to make room for himself.
"D-Draco….w-wha…how…?" Harry spluttered, bewildered.
Draco chuckled. "Ever the eloquent one, aren't you, Harry."
Harry just continued to gape, dumbstruck.
With a pale finger, Draco lifted Harry's chin and closed his mouth.
"Don't want you catching flies, now," he murmured, looking at Harry intently, "I wouldn't want to kiss you, then."
Despite the finger resting underneath his chin, Harry's mouth shot open even wider than before.
"W-what?" Ron stuttered, looking at Draco like he was positively mad. And at the moment, Harry didn't think he would be able to contradict him.
Finally finding words, Harry narrowed his eyes and whispered harshly, "What are you doing, Draco?"
Draco quirked a brow, amused. At least, that's how he looked to everyone else. Harry could see that his hands were trembling slightly, and the dark gleam his grey eyes had taken. He frowned, completely stumped. He had absolutely no idea what Draco was planning, and that worried him. Perhaps someone had jinxed him?
Draco let out a soft, shaky breath that Harry was sure only he had heard, and said, rather loudly, "I'm sitting next to my boyfriend, is what." As if it were obvious.
Harry's mouth dropped open, and Draco smiled at him, thinly. He turned to the table, grabbed a plate, and began to serve himself breakfast. A few more seconds of piling food on the large, gold platter, and he looked up and raked his eyes across the table.
"Weasley, be a pal and pass me the salt, would you?" he asked, like asking Ron to pass the salt was something he did on an everyday basis. Ron continued to stare at him, eyes wide, and mouth almost touching the table.
Draco gave him an impatient look.
Finally coming to his senses, Harry grabbed Draco's shoulders and made him face him.
"Draco, what are you doing?"
The blonde looked at him, seriously. "Coming Out."
Harry's eyes widened a bit, and he whispered, "Are you serious?"
"As a heart attack." he repeated the muggle phrase that Harry had told him about just weeks before.
His hand tightened, and he narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Certain?"
Draco rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Yes, Harry, for the thousandth time; I'm sure."
He then lowered his voice, and looked at his lover in the eye. "I was sick of it, too, you know."
And then Harry was assured.
Relief, trepidation, and sheer happiness welled up inside him, and he thought his chest was going to explode. Harry smiled brilliantly, the corner of his lips stretching across his face like the sun in the early morning sky.
"God, Draco…"
"I know."
"Fuck, Draco…"
Draco laughed. "I know that, too."
Harry held his arm again, trying to convey without words just how amazing he though Draco was at the moment. Just how wonderful his boyfriend was. Just how happy he was.
"I love you." It was the only thing to say that would sum it up, but Harry figured he got it right when his blonde's eyes darkened considerably.
"Love you, too." Draco whispered, and leaned in to give Harry a kiss.
There was an outburst. Shrieks and gasps scattered the great hall, and Harry was only vaguely aware of some yelling. Harry didn't care. He was too happy. He met Draco's lips and at once parted his lips, allowing his blonde access. Draco slipped in a tongue, ran it over the upper wall of Harry's mouth, pulled away, and then pecked his lips again.
"What will your father say?" Harry said, though lightly; he wasn't trying to break the mood, but he wanted to see how Draco reacted to him mentioning his father.
Draco shrugged, as Harry was sure he would do, but it wasn't his shoulders that he was studying. It was his eyes, in the way they narrowed. It was his sleek, perfect hands, in the way they trembled. It was his jaw, so sharp and pale, in the way it clenched. And it was his lips, so supple and pink, in the way they thinned.
"We'll cross that road when it comes, I suppose," Draco strained, and Harry smiled at his honesty. He had been only half expecting that Draco would've tried to brush it off like nothing. But he hadn't, and Draco had even included him when he talked about facing his father.
Harry leaned in and kissed him again.
"What the bloody hell are you doing, Harry?!" Ron suddenly exclaimed, his face contorted in outrage and disbelief, and his face rapidly shading into the color of his hair.
He glanced around his table, and sheepishly took in the sight of his teammates staring at him flabbergasted, most with their eyebrows dangerously up and their mouths ridiculously dropped. With a furtive glance, he also took note that everyone else was staring, too. And whispering, and gossiping, and voicing their displeasure and surprise.
A look to the head table told him that even the teachers weren't exempted. Snape and Professor McGonagall looked as if they were going to fall from their seats. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, Golden Boy and Slytherin Prince; sitting together and kissing! Had the world come to an end? Had hell frozen over? Did a dark wizard emerge and plan on taking over the world? Harry didn't think he was far off from what most of them were probably thinking.
Everyone probably thought he was mad. And he was.
He was madly in love with Draco Malfoy.
Harry smiled giddily.
With his head held high, and a smile of absolute pride, Harry beamed at his friends and answered Ron's question.
"Coming out."
And he and Draco would just deal with everything else when it came, together.
Fin.
A/N:
I don't know about you all, but I absolutely love it when, in fics, Harry comes out to everyone. I love the drama! This is a one-shot, so it will be categorized as "completed", however! I may write a second part to this (a sequel, if you may) that goes a bit further, ties up loose ends, and briefly gets into how Harry and Draco got together in the first place. Keep an eye out!
I hope you enjoyed this!
And thanks for allowing me the chance to write this, Luna Nera! I probably would not have written this, otherwise.
~Reiko Katsura.