Disclamer: I do not own anything Harry Potter, Nor do I make any money off this. They belong solely to the auther who thought them up which isn't me. If I had I can assure you that many things would have worked out differently and it would not be a childs book.
This is goint to be a two shot.
Slash Harry/Draco
Rated: M
Summary: Secrets aren't uncommon in Harry Potter's life. Some secrets you keep to protect your friends, some to protect yourself. When the secrets co-exist sometimes they can be unbearable, leaving you with nothing but faith. Faith, that in the end someone will always be there.
Harry sighed while looking at his reflection. He started at the top, his inky hair falling in random directions. The tips of his bangs partially covered his eyes and glasses. The glasses were black, and held together by a ridiculous amount of tape.
Harry then moved on to his eyes, staring lifelessly. They roamed down taking in his Elvin features, which to him was more gaunt than Elvin.
Down to his ragged oversized clothes. The collar of the shirt so large it fell from one shoulder to expose his collarbone. Baggy pants cinched at the waist as tight as they could go. Yet they still barely clung to his hips. Even further to his toes, which were covered by ratty tennis. Harry sighed again, grabbing his robe to cover up his humiliation.
Pain hardens, and great pain hardens greatly, whatever the comforters say, and suffering does not ennoble, though it may occasionally lend a certain rigid dignity of manner to the suffering frame. - Antonia S. Byatt
He knew that money was coming out of his ears. That he could buy new clothes had often entered his mind. The Dursleys though, would either burn the new clothes or try and take the money. To Harrys' mind, it just wasn't worth the effort. He walked out the bathroom, his carefully constructed mask in place. Hermione could see through it, Ron on the other hand…. wouldn't know fake if it hit him in the face. Harry Really did love his best friends, but he wanted someone of his own. Voldemort was dead and truth be told he didn't have to be here anymore.
Since Sirius' death he had Grimmauld Place. It was a decrepit house, tarnished in darkness. He also inherited the slightly insane house elf named Kreacher. If he had his way Kreacher would have been packed and shipped out before you could say "snitch".
Unfortunately Hermione's S.P.E.W was still going strong (for her at least). She would have had his head for sending him out in the world without trying to give him some proper care. She pointed out the fact that Kreacher held secrets that Harry wouldn't want spread around. Many that could prove disastrous for him if they were found out by certain members of society.
Believe me, every heart has it's secret sorrow which the world knows not, and oftentimes we call a man cold, when he is only sad. - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
Harry sighed again and rang his delicate fingers through his hair. There was no point in crying over spilled milk and he was leaving this house tomorrow anyways. Gone were the days of being no more than a slave. Being here simply brought up bad memories, memories that he had no use for. A wry grin twisted his lips as he headed for the door.
'I wonder what they would do if they knew how I really am,' thought the youth, 'Maybe, just maybe it is time to be myself. It would be interesting to see who would stick around.'
Harry watched as his best friends made goo goo eyes at each other. They were so caught up in their own world that Harry felt a little like a third wheel. He had decided it was time to let them in on one of those disastrous secrets. Not now though, Ron would be very angry when he told him. His best mate had this image in his head, one where he would marry Hermione and Harry would marry Ginny. It would be a neat little package and then they could all be family for real. The slight hitch to this plan… Harry was gay. He had no interest what so ever in Ginny.
"Stupidity is a talent for misconception." Edgar Allan Poe
Harry suspected that Hermione already knew this secret as she had hinted many times. It would make the conversation move a little smoother since she would be in his corner. It also helped Ron was so in love with Hermione he would practically do anything for her. That included growing up and being a mature adult.
Diagon Alley was a little too crowded for Harrys' liking. He bore it though because they needed the course books and materials. Nostalgia coursed down his veins, it would be their last year together. For the first time they could behave like normal students. The Gryffindor smirked at this thought. Well not normal per se but something close to it.
The expression blanked in the next second. Before him stood one that he had hoped would not be seen for at least another week or so. Draco Malfoy was a half foot away. Facing the bookshelves he had obviously not seen Harry yet. And Harry was going to keep it that way for now. Simply because the second half of that little secret was he was irrevocably in love with the stupid ferret.
'Of course, HE would be here,' Harrys' brain muttered, 'A place and time where you aren't wanted and you had to show up. Damn cosmic irony.'
Sadly, for Harry at least, Ron had caught sight of the Slytherin. Now although the blonde had actually been a good guy, the youngest Weasley male still hated him.
"Oh great Malfoy," Ron muttered looking agitated, "Just what we need to deal with the ferrety git."
Hermione elbowed him in the ribs sharply, a disapproving expression upon her face. It succeeded in making her boyfriend wince but did not stop Malfoy from hearing.
"What was that Weasel? I'm afraid I couldn't hear you, you see I don't speak stupid and sadly that is all you can speak."
A slow smirk stretched across the blondes' face, amusement dancing in his eyes.
"I suppose I could try to dumb myself down and speak in smaller sentences, but I think I find it more entertaining watching you sort through the words. If only to have Granger translate it for you in the end."
Harry observed that Malfoy hadn't noticed him yet. Taking that in, he let his eyes wander the Slytherins' body. He had grown a few inches over the summer, nothing to drastic. Leaving his archrival at a decent height of 6'ft, soft looking blonde hair fell straight. Covering an eye and the tips of his ears, only to be cut short in the back. Harrys' fingers itched to run through that soft hair. The usual cruel set of his mouth had relaxed giving him a softer look, it helped that his face had filled in and his chin not so pointy.
Instead of being chips of ice, his eyes had softened into a mercury color. Long dexterous fingers gripped a potions book at his side. Malfoys' other hand came to rest at his elbow, arm folded across his chest. Harry shook his head slightly. He couldn't afford to get caught up in some fantasy that would never happen. His mind jolted to the present when a smooth voice called out to him.
The most painful thing is to be sitting right next to the person you love most, but never being able to let them know. - Unknown
"And of course where the Weasel and Granger are, scarhead is sure to follow. Tell me Potter do you not have a life? Or is there something you need to get out of the closet about?"
Harry went rigid before allowing his muscles to relax. There was no way that the Slytherin knew one of his secrets. He was simply being paranoid.
"Don't be ridiculous Malfoy. Just because I have better things to do than sit around and think up insults all day, doesn't mean I don't have a life," was coolly responded.
Harry was slightly proud of the fact that his voice did not shake.
The blonde simply sneered at him before walking away; if Harry didn't know better he would have sworn to see something in the others' eyes.
"Harry?" Hermione softly questioned under Rons' curses towards the Malfoy.
He turned his head slightly in her direction then shook it slowly. He didn't want to talk about it now, least of all when Ron was right there.
Harry watched as a blonde head disappeared into the crowd outside the shop. 'Soon,' he thought, 'soon I will tell them and maybe him as well.'