Please feel free to rate and review! Let me know if I made a mistake on any of the French. ~Wondersland

Chapter 2

As the years had dragged on, Harry had spent more and more time thinking about Malfoy. He rationalized it under the guise of being concerned about Malfoy, and his connection to Voldemort.

It was the summer between his fourth and fifth year that Harry came to terms with the fact that he was gay. He had spent the majority of the summer working through those feelings he had pushed away for so long, if only to avoid dealing with the feeling surrounding Cedric and the events of last year. Having it haunt him in his dreams was bad enough, he chose not to voluntarily dwell on the subject.

Getting on the train, Harry knew he had to tell Ron about him being gay. He just couldn't deal with keeping such a big secret from his best friend, but it was something he felt best done in person so he could gage his friend's reaction.

So, when Hermione excused herself for the loo, Harry pounced on the opportunity.

"Want to track down the Trolley Witch? I have been dying for some sweats. Mum has banned them from the house," Ron said, turning his attention to the compartment door.

"I think I am gay," Harry blurted out. That is not how he wanted to broach the subject, but words had never been his strong suit. His cheeks tinted pink, as he focused on a string coming from the hem of his shirt.

"Oh. Well, that's cool. So…you don't want candy?"

Harry's eyes snapped to meet Ron's, and Ron laughed at the shocked expression found there.

"You don't have a problem with it?" Harry asked, needing reassurance.

"Yeah. Charlie is gay. It's really no big deal," Ron fixed him with a sly smile. "Just don't be making out with blokes in my bed."

Harry let out a nervous laugh and tried to relax back into his seat. They talked a little more about the upcoming Quidditch season before Harry's curiosity overcame him.

"In the wizarding world, how is being gay…received?" Harry bit his lip nervously, knowing full well how hard it would be to be gay in the muggle world.

Ron shifted in his seat. "Well, most people think it is just a bid for attention. Charlie is really only out to the family, and his boyfriend, obviously. It is hard I guess."

"So…if the press got a hold of it…?"

"There would catch some major flack man," Ron said, looking apologetic. "I'm cool with it though! And I'm sure the rest of the fam would be cool with it too! They were fine when Charlie came out."

Harry nodded, for the millionth time thanking whoever was up there that he found a sort of family with the Weasley's. "Let's just keep it between us for now. Alright?"

"No problem! Should we tell 'Mionie?"

Harry loosened a laugh, "I'm pretty sure she already knows."

"There are no surprises with that one," Ron nodded in agreement, and their conversation turned back to Quidditch.

HDHDHDHDHD

At the opening feast, Harry found his eyes drifting over to Malfoy. He was just pushing his food around with his fork, his head resting in his hand. He looked distraught.

I wonder what's wrong with him, Harry thought. Usually Malfoy would at least look up and fix him with that annoying sneer he was known for. Malfoy, however, kept his head down leaving Harry's eyes free to wander over his features. Maturity had done Malfoy well, and his cheek bones were well defined and his hare fell gracefully over his forehead, no longer gelled into submission but still styled. His figure was still lithe, but he had grown and his cloths hinted at a well-muscled frame, probably from Quidditch, Harry concluded. He looks so sad, Malfoy had dark circles under his eyes, and would yawn every now and then. It was nothing compared to the previous years, where Malfoy was excited as anyone to be back in school, no matter how hard he tried to hide the excitement.

Maybe I have been paying too much attention to Malfoy. But who could blame me? He is a very good looking bloke. Harry blushed at his own thoughts. Had he always thought that Malfoy was attractive and now only had the words to describe it? Or was it because he had just come to terms with being gay, and he was putting his need to fancy someone on Malfoy? He could never ACTUALLY fancy Malfoy.

Ron's elbow nudging him in the side brought Harry's attention back to his friends. "What's up?"

"What's got you so absorbed?" Ron followed his gaze to Malfoy. "What do you think his problem is? His daddy take away his allowance?"

"I think he's just…sad," Harry's eyes returned to Malfoy. "Doesn't he look sad?"

Hermione gave Harry a knowing look. "You thinking of cheering him up?"

"What do you mean, 'Mionie?" Ron looked confused.

Harry blushed and focused on his food. "I hear we have a new Quidditch training schedule this year."

"What?! Really?!" Ron went on to ramble about how this was going to affect his attempts at passing his lessons this year.

Harry smiled shyly at Hermione, and she smirked back.

HDHDHDHDHD

Later that week Harry found himself unable to sleep. He pulled himself out of bed, deciding to wander around the castle. He grabbed the map, and set off.

About an hour later Harry found himself wandering up to the astronomy tower. He liked the view, and the cold was something he could always deal with.

He was at the bottom of the last staircase when a voice drifted down to him. Someone was up there, and they were shouting, the wind making it impossible for him to figure out who it was. Before fear could make him turn around, he walked the rest of the way into the tower to find Malfoy at the railing, gazing over the darkened grounds.

Harry cleared his throat, and Malfoy spun to face him, becoming tense. "Que faites-vous hors du lit?" Malfoy snapped, crossing his arms across his chest. He didn't seem to notice that he had spoken in French.

"Uhh…I…" Harry didn't want to point out Malfoy's slip. He really wasn't in the mood to fight. And, to be honest, Malfoy himself was quite distracting. He was backlit by the dim light pouring through the opening in the tower, making his pale skin and hair glow. He looked positively ethereal.

"Well? Spit out, Potter," Malfoy's eyes hardened as he scanned Harry from head to toe.

Harry dropped his gaze to the floor, feeling exposed under the blonde's gaze. He was thankful for his tan complexion, hoping to blend in with the surrounding shadows. "I…uhh…you spoke in French. And I…I don't speak French."

Harry chanced a look at Malfoy, and it was only a slight tinge of pink on his cheeks that gave away the effect Harry's words had on him.

"What are you doing out of the bed?" Malfoy's glare getting stronger.

"I just couldn't sleep," Harry admitted with a shrug.

Malfoy nodded and turned back to face the dark grounds.

Well, he wasn't going to just stand here in silence. Conversation was the preferable option. "Why are you out of the bed…bed!" Harry flushed. "Why are you out of bed?" Harry bit his lip. Well, that went beautifully.

Malfoy turned back to face Harry and stalked over to him slowly, his grey eyes cold. He stopped a breath away from Harry, looking down his nose at him. How he managed to do that when they were the same height was beyond Harry. "Are you mocking me?"

"No!" Harry took a step backward, forcing himself to swallow. "I wasn't mocking you."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah! Really!"

Malfoy huffs and rolls his eyes.

"Why can't you believe that someone is actually being nice to you!" Harry was starting to get annoyed. It was an honest mistake, and he hadn't meant to upset Malfoy.

"You? Be nice?" Malfoy sneered.

"I am always nice!" Harry snapped.

Malfoy moved until their noses were almost touching. "Saint Potter toujours vouloir que les gens s'inclinent devant lui. Se moquer de moi encore et voir où ça prend un rat comme vous," with that he turned and stormed down the stairs. (saint potter always wanting people to bow before him. Mock me again and see where that gets a rat like you)

Harry felt his cheeks burn as he turned to watch Malfoy leave. He had no idea what the blonde had said, but hearing the emotion behind his French was enticing, and he really didn't care if he had just been insulted. He had a weird feeling in his stomach that he couldn't quite place.

After a little while, Harry went back to bed. The funny feeling in his stomach never going away.