Note: This chapter is dedicated to Arcus Pluvius, who was kind enough to leave those motivating comments. Thank you!

New Years Eve was going to be a cold, snowy evening, like any other cold, snowy evening, but this year Harry would be hunting down a man in a white masquerade costume holding a simple red apple. Harry sat in his room on his bed examining the card Malfoy had given him, for the fiftieth time. 'The Poisoned Apple' was written on the front in large golden letters, and on the back it read:

Garnett and Gold Masquerade Ball
New Years Eve

Come and Take a Bite

The week between Christmas and New Years was almost over and Harry still hadn't decided if he was going to go or not. He hadn't told Ron about it since he already knew he wouldn't approve of him going on some kind of weird date with Malfoy, and talking to Hermione about it was also out of the question. So he was stuck, tossing the pro's and con's back and forth in his head and wondering what exactly Malfoy was up to.

~0~

December 30, 2001 was a full moon, so the entire Auror's Department was on full alert in case there were any attacks. Harry was out until 3 am on New Years Eve morning, and the thought of staying at home in bed was an appealing one. Both he and Ron slept late into the afternoon and had lunch together. Originally, their plans were to go to the Burrow to bring in the New Year with family, but Harry was still undecided on were he really wanted to go. So, he told Ron that he was starting to feel under the weather, blaming the late night spent out in the snow, and said that, if he got to feeling up to it, he'd pop over before midnight.

After Ron had left, Harry opened his wardrobe and stared at the costume he bought just in case he decided to go. Then he wondered off, came back, got a snack, came back and laid the costume out on the bed, left again and sat in his chair for a few minutes, then came back and started to change only to wander off again. Back and forth, and back and forth again for almost a full hour until, finally, he put the mask over his face, and walked over to the fireplace. With a fist full of flue powder, he decided that he would go, satisfy his curiosity, and leave in time to bring in 2002 with the Weasleys. That was the plan, and with that decision finally made, he stepped into the abnormally tall brick laid hearth.

"The Poisoned Apple!" He tossed the powder at his feet and the world zoomed past him at a frantic pace. As he passed by them, he could see hundreds of living rooms full of people gathered together getting ready for the countdown. Then, as he left the suburbs and moved on into the city, he saw flashes of bustling pubs and roaring parties before ending up in a dark room, echoing with beautiful music.

He stepped out into the entrance way and into a sea of red and gold costumes. Harry hadn't realized that the card meant he was supposed to wear Garnett and Gold ... who took things that literally? Besides, Malfoy had said he would be wearing white, but by the look of everyone else here, he and Malfoy would be the only ones not in uniform. So, dressed in solid black from head to toe, Harry made his way through the glimmering crowd like a shadow, looking for a solitary figure in white. And to think, Harry had been worried that finding one guy in a white costume was going to be difficult.

The Ball Room was where most of the people seemed to be gathered, and Harry moved around the carousel of dancers with a careful eye. He was so absorbed in his task of finding Malfoy, that it took him a full five minutes before he realized there were no women at this party. Suddenly it hit his like a bag of bricks to the head. This was a gay masquerade party, and Malfoy had invited him. Malfoy knew Harry was gay, but did he know that before the Christmas party? No, from what he had said, it sounded like it had been a new discovery for him. So then Malfoy had the card on him before he knew about Harry being gay, so he couldn't have brought it specifically for him. And Malfoy had already picked out a costume … this was something he had planned on coming to, Potter or no Potter, and that could only mean one thing:

Draco Malfoy was gay.

That explained why Harry's social preferences hadn't been pasted on the front page of the Daily Prophet last week. Malfoy wasn't about to expose Harry when he shared his secret. But Harry's most important deduction was that tonight wasn't just about an innocent party invitation anymore … this was a real date, and it was a date with Draco Malfoy. Suddenly, Harry's stomach flooded with butterflies, his courage failed him and his curiosity died. He had to get out of there.

He turned abruptly and started retracing his steps, when a flash of white caught a ray of flickering light from the candelabras and hanging chandeliers. He stopped, and looked, and there in the crowed, staring right at him, was Draco Malfoy. Dressed head to foot in purest white, he made his way across the floor straight for him. Harry watched him approach in the dim light and found himself unable to run for it and escape. When Draco reached him, he smiled, and rolled the blood red apple in his hand.

"Evening."

Harry nervously swallowed. "Evening."

"And where were you off to in such a sudden hurry?"

Harry couldn't keep himself from blushing and he thanked Merlin for the lights being as low as they were. "Mal –"

"Don't." Draco surged forward, eyes wide with panic, and put up his other hand to stop him. "Don't say my name." he whispered. "Our masks serve a purpose here beyond simple décor." His eyes shifted suspiciously as he looked around to see if anyone had heard him, and only when he was certain that no one had, he removed his fingertips from Harry's lips. Draco was afraid. Even here where they all shared the same secret, he feared being discovered. Harry must have been one of few, if not the only one, to know this about his secret. He never expected that kind of trust to come from someone he had regarded as an enemy for so long.

"Sorry."

"It's alright, you didn't know. But … you know now."

And by the way Draco emphasized that last bit of dialogue, Harry knew what he really meant.

"And you won't tell anyone about it, will you. Your secret is my secret after all, and sharing it wouldn't do either of us any good."

Harry glared venomously through his mask. "You don't need to threaten me. I wouldn't out anyone like that."

For a moment, Draco looked down before meeting Harry's eyes again. "I know, and I apologize. It's just that, you're the first person to know about … me, and I guess I'm a little -" But before he finished, Draco realized that he was showing more to Harry than he'd intended, so he hastily recovered his air of confidence and smiled. "Would you like to dance?"

"Dance?" Was he serious?

"Yes. It is what people usually do at a ball," he casually took Harry's arm, "and as a treat, I'll even let you lead." And he led him to the edge of the waltz. "You remember how to lead, don't you?"

"Yeah, but -"

"Don't argue, just dance." He moved Harry's arms into place and started to move to the rhythm of the music and ease their way into the flow of people.

Harry followed, not wanting to bump into anyone trying to enjoy themselves on the dance floor, but he didn't like being dragged around like that. "I thought you said I could lead."

"So lead." And he did, and Draco followed him effortlessly across the floor. Dancing with Malfoy wasn't actually that bad once Harry got used to it, and after a short while, he even started to enjoy it. But after a few dances, Harry was getting tired and suggested that they break for something to drink. They made their way to the wall where the red whine and golden champagne was being served with Draco still holding on to Harry's arm with one hand, and the apple still held tight with the other. As the night went on, they had a few more drinks than perhaps they should have had, but it settled their nerves and filled them with the confidence they felt they needed. While they drank, they talked about life and what they had been doing since the war. Draco congratulated Harry on becoming an Auror, and Harry teased Draco good-naturedly about being expected to do something other than sit around and get pampered all day.

Eventually, Draco suggested they move out to one of the balconies for some fresh air. Outside, the city covered in snow shone beautifully beneath them and they gazed out at it, saying nothing, and silently stood together and simply enjoyed the other's company. Harry's eyes and thoughts drifted lazily to Draco, and eventually to the crimson apple he'd mentioned at the Christmas party which he'd been holding faithfully all evening.

"So, what's with the apple anyway? I noticed a few other people holding them too."

Draco looked away from the city lights and smiled at him softly. "It's a game we play here at the Poisoned Apple. If someone brings an apple to share, it means their looking for someone to spend the night with."

Harry, who had just taken another sip of wine, almost did a spit take, but miraculously managed to swallow.

"It's an apple laced with temptation. I've never brought one before." Draco looked down at it and ran his finger across the apple's skin before slowly raising it between them. "And, though I didn't know who would end up sharing it with me tonight, I think I know who I would like it to be."

The world around them grew dark and silent as the weight of Draco's words permeated every inch of Harry's consciousness, and as Draco raised the apple just a little more for Harry to take a bite, Harry thought of all those years of frustrated nights he'd spent alone in his bed. He may not have realized he fancied Ron all those years ago, but he had always known he fancied men. Even when he went after Ginny and Cho, he knew in the end they were just a means to the end of appearing normal, but they could never have satisfied him. Not in the way Draco was offering to do right now. He'd never have admitted it before, but he'd always thought Draco was a good looking boy in their school days, and now, he stood before him as a man, a deadly attractive man, on a darkened balcony, offering him his greatest possession.

Slowly, cautiously, carefully, they both leaned in to take a bite. The taste of the apple was bitter sweet, and as their teeth sunk in, piercing the apple's delicate skin, their eyes never left each other, knowing full well what they were agreeing to and that only a few inches of ripened fruit was all that separated them. Harry chewed his portion anxiously and wondered if he would be able to eat another apple again without remembering tonight.

They both looked at the floor as they swallowed, and slowly moved closer together.

Draco lifted his arms and gently laid them across Harry's shoulders. "Have you ever kissed a man before?"

"No."

"Neither have I."

Softly, Harry slipped his hands around Draco's waist, and when their lips finally met, all thoughts of future regret flew far away from him and disappeared forgotten into the night.