~Chapter Four~

The other boys were fast asleep by the time Harry crept back into his bedroom. He had heard them snoring from down the hall. It was pitch black in their room, the moonlight shining through the window was enough to guide him to his bed without tripping over someone's trousers. He was grateful for the darkness, it meant if anyone did wake up they would not see the tears on his cheeks. He licked his dry lips and could taste them.

He hated crying. He hated how much he cried. It made him feel weak when he had to be strong. The entire wizarding world was literally depending on it. He heard a grumble and spun to see Ron bolt upright in bed, wand drawn with the tip facing Harry. It took him a moment to realize who was standing at the foot of his bed and he let out a heavy breath he'd been holding and dropped his wand to his sheets.

"Sorry," Ron grumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "You alright, mate?" For a second Harry's heart jumped and he thought Ron may have seen the tears, but it clicked a second later that Ron had believed Harry had been to visit the mirror of Erised and why would he not cry at that? He shrugged.

"Fine, go back to sleep." Harry told him. Ron nodded understandingly and wished him a good night. Harry mumbled a response before stripping to his boxers and climbing beneath the crisp covers. He was surprised at how lightly Ron had slept and how he had jumped into action, prepared to duel, before he had even rubbed the sand out of his eyes. Ron had always been a deep, deep, sleeper but they were in the middle of a war and Harry was the number one target. Ron was beginning to realize that at any moment, they could be under attack.

He lay his head flat against the pillow and squeezed his eyes shut, yet he could not escape a second pair of eyes staring back into his own. Ghost's – No – Draco's.

This night had not gone to plan at all. He regretted every moment of it yet traced a numb finger across his lower lip, yearning for another pair of lips to take its place. Ghost. He balled his hands into fists, scrunching his sheets up angrily. He was so conflicted, so torn between his feelings for Ghost and his hatred for Draco Malfoy. He knew what he had done was probably hurting Ghost just as severely as what Ghost had done (albeit accidentally) was hurting him, yet he couldn't bring himself to touch the diary he'd slid back beneath the pillow. An hour passed, then two and soon it was almost three in the morning and Harry had a full day of classes scheduled for the morning and he knew he needed the sleep, but the diary seemed to as prominent as a brick beneath his pillow.

He took it out, slid it beneath his bed then lay back with an exasperated sigh. That's better. He thought, snuggling deeper beneath he covers. He decided in that moment he couldn't touch the diary again.

When Harry Potter woke the following morning, he found that he was alone in his bedroom. Strangely, the four other boys with whom he shared this section of the tower were nowhere to be found; beds empty and made, books and bags gone, and so were his glasses. What was even stranger was that he did not need them, everything was crystal clear – this was the first indication that he was still dreaming.

The second was that suddenly he was no longer alone in the room. There was someone behind him. The figure slid his thin arms beneath Harry's own and wrapped them securely around his waist, the tickling sensation making him shiver and smile. He knew that he should have spun to face the stranger, to yell at whoever had appeared and touched him but, he reminded himself, he was dreaming. If there was anyone he was going to dream about it would be the one person he wanted to touch him.

The gentle caress of a warm breath against his ear brought with it the scent of silver and aftershave. The familiar smell caused his knees to feel brittle and his head to drop to one side. This opened him up to a series of kisses that slowly moved along the nape of his neck, as soft and as gentle as whispers.

Giving in Harry spun to face him. He was as every bit as identical to the real thing.

"Ghost." Harry muttered, dragging his own fingers across his face. But it wasn't his face. As if Ghost had read Harry's mind he shook his head.

"Draco?" Harry tried again and Draco nodded, then kissed him. It was a cheap imitation of the real thing, but it made Harry swoon all the same. Even in his dreams he couldn't imagine the perfection that their first kiss had been, even if it had ended with tears and his running away. His body was firmer than he'd expected, warmer too. He'd always imagined Draco to be cold outside as well as in but he was comfortingly warm. Harry found himself wanting to bury his face in Draco's flat chest – which was now bare and surprisingly covered in tuffs of golden hair – and breathe him in.

He could feel himself growing harder, feel Draco through his ironed pants. He wanted this, he wanted to tear them off and have nothing between them but their skin.

"Harry," Draco's voice bounced off the walls of the tower and echoed through the entire castle. His hair wasn't covering his face, hindering his looks. It was swept back and styled. Harry found himself conflicted on how handsome he looked.

"Harry…" He said his name again, but it sounded clouded, faded as if being yelled through a wall. Then the world around him begun to thin, and Draco slipped through his arms, and his fantasy had vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

He woke with his name in his mouth but fought the urge to say it aloud. Harry knew he was no longer dreaming as the world around him was a mass of red and gold and brown blurs blending into one another until he reached for his glasses and the world sharpened to take shape. He spun over and found Ron still fast asleep in the bed beside his own – as were the other boys.

He blew out a breath he'd been holding and sat upright in bed, kicking away the stuffy cover to cool his bare legs. Beads of sweat clung to his shaggy hair until he ran a shaky hand through it and brushed his fringe aside. It was uncomfortably hot in the tower; his limbs felt stiff and his skin waxy, so he placed his feet on the cold floorboards and went to stand to open the window but shot back down when he realized that he was still showing.

He crossed his legs atop his mattress and forced both arms over his crotch to hide his bulge from the other boys – he knew they were asleep but he wanted to be cautious, just in case. He knew they'd mock him for it. It wasn't as if he hadn't been in their place before when one of the boys hopped out of bed full of morning glory, and in the past Harry would have made jokes about size and teased whomever it was right alongside the others. It was what they did. They were teenage boys after all and teenage boys found something as uncontrollable as an erection understandably hilarious.

He couldn't help it either. Draco – No, Ghost or whoever that was – had touched him in ways no one else had. Who could blame him for getting excited?

When his thoughts drifted from the dream and he was sure it was safe to stand up, he opened the window and was hit with a blast of refreshing cool air. He crawled back into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin, not caring whether the cold would wake the other boys or not. From the clock on the far wall it was almost dawn anyway. They'd have to get up soon.

But he could have another fifteen minutes by Ghost's side if he tried.

Harry did not read the message Ghost had surely left for him when he woke later that same morning. In fact, Harry chose not to touch the diary at all that day. His first thought when he woke – well, after he was positive he had woken this time – was that perhaps a day without Ghost would do him some good. He knew that he needed to clear his head before deciding what to do with the overwhelming storm of emotion he felt. It was better for both boys that way.

Still, he felt the familiar impulse to reach for the diary beneath his pillow and it pained him to leave it be; fortunately, he had a full day of classes ahead of him and for the first time in a long time, he was grateful for it. Worrying over assignments and overdue homework was by far easier than worrying over what to do with Ghost. It was funny, before he would need a distraction from Voldemort and the impending war but now what kept him up at night was the thought of his teenage crush.

The dream had left him…. hot. So, he decided to shower again before classes begun. Like the day before, he gathered his clothes and his toiletries and made his way to the same bathroom only this time there was no stark-naked chocolate hunk to spy on. Why couldn't life be like in the movies? Both the normal and adult? Two strangers catch eyes from across the room, bump into one another and fall helplessly in love. Then they go home and fuck like professionals?

He showered as quickly but as thoroughly as he could and left the bathroom smelling of lemons and soap. As it turned out, he'd been showering longer than he thought as most of his friends and other students were already finishing up their breakfast and heading off to their first class.

"Where've you been?" Hermione pondered, scowling at his tangle of still wet hair.

"Went for a quick dip in the lake." He said as he reached for the nearest tray of toast, smothered in melted butter.

She rolled her eyes. "Did you sleep in again?" She asked with an exasperated sigh as if it were something he did often, which it wasn't.

"Nah," Ron grumbled, food in his mouth as always, "He was up before the lot of us."

Hermione gave Harry another look, except this time it was not accusing or displeased but instead full of worry. "The nightmares again?" Her voice was full of concern.

"Yeah," Harry shrugged. "Hey, did you do Snape's homework?" He changed the subject just so she wouldn't go on. Hermione – after a long argument – begrudgingly handed over her homework for Harry (and Ron, whom also hadn't done the homework) to copy and write up their own quick drafts. Harry had already written most of the homework a few days ago, but he would add this last little bit. It wouldn't be exceptional but Snape would only complain a little. Though he told the others that he was fine, they still seemed to be able to tell something was the matter with Harry. He tried to act his ordinary self but apparently, there was a 'glum' air to him. Ron let it go once Harry told him he was fine but Hermione was Hermione and she would not let it drop. She even dragged Ginny into it just so she would have someone to back her up.

He confessed to telling them he'd left his dorm the night before but told them both the same lie he'd told Ron: that he visited the mirror of Erised. He felt somewhat guilty at using the mirror and the image of his dead parents as a way of avoiding their questions but he knew what his friends were like. It came from a place of love but sometimes they could get on his nerves for caring too much. He kept his head down, his eyes on the plate of food set before him just so they could not detect the lie in his eye but it was too late. He knew Ginny had spotted it.

She gave him a look to say 'I know you're lying but I'm not going to say anything if you don't want me to.' He nodded a thank you to her over Hermione's shoulder and she went back to her breakfast.

He had been right. Having a full day of classes was the perfect distraction from Ghost. He was handed eight new assignments to be completed within the following week and they were all to reach exceeding–expectations standards or else would only have to do them again. Hermione had not been too flustered by the new homework; in fact, by lunch she had written out a timetable of when she would have time to write them and was pleased she would have two full days to – not relax, as Harry would have done – but reread and perfect them. She was a strange girl, Hermione, but he would not change her one bit. Without her brains, he and Ron would have died their first year and Voldemort would have taken over the entire wizarding community by now.

Ron on the other hand, had panicked at thought of one new assignment let alone eight. His cheeks had burned and blotched with colour, sweat damped his brow and his hair was just a mess as Harry's. Harry had offered to help Ron with his work – and by help he meant Ron could copy his homework when Harry finished his own – but both boys knew it would be a miracle for even Harry to complete them by the deadline. Hermione, being the kind, light-hearted soul she was then offered to spend her two free days helping Ron catch up. To this, he thanked her endlessly, calling her the most amazing woman in the world. (At this, Hermione was the one to blush.)

Harry was not the only one with a secret. Hermione had one too. She was head over heels in love with Ron but Harry's best friend hadn't the foggiest. He first realized it when Ron had scored his first goal at their Quidditch Game and Lavender Brown had launched herself at Ron and begun snogging him savagely. He'd seen the way Hermione had looked at him, then at her and fled the tower. They hadn't spoken about her feelings aloud but Harry had made it clear that if she ever wanted to, he would be there for her. For a moment, he wondered if that was a gay thing? You always see in movies and Tv Shows there is always 'The Gay Best-Friend' Was that what he was? He just thought he and Hermione were best friends, thus was the reason he cared deeply for her and would be there for her, and that it had nothing to do with him being gay, did it?

This was one of the many thoughts and questions that had popped into his mind after he realized he was gay. He wished he had someone to talk to about this stuff, someone to ask questions and not have to worry about the complicated stuff. Then Ghost had come along and had been that person. Still, he felt as if Ghost didn't count. An imaginary friend, in a way. He so desperately wanted to tell his friends, but at the same time would not dream of doing such a stupid thing.

Anyway, Hermione was madly in love with Ron but Ron being blind sighted by his love for Lavender (or more specifically her chest) failed to see the way Hermione looked at him. Which was why in moments such as this when Hermione offered to help him and he would thank and compliment her, Harry felt a bittersweet ache for the two of them. It made Hermione smile but in a sad way.

"Where're you going?" Hermione wondered when the three of them walked through a tunnel towards the library where they planned to get a head start on their assignments and studying. Ron had stopped at the archway.

"Uh, Lav wants me to meet her before dinner." Ron explained.

"I offered to help you and you want to run off to snog Lavender?" She was not upset that he had blown off her help, she was upset he'd blown off her.

"She's having a hard day, it' the anniversary of her first toad's death or something like that." He shrugged, not sympathetic to the dead toad at all. "I'll catch up with you at dinner." He said before he turned, tucked his hands into his robe pockets and headed back the way they had come. Hermione's hands were balled into fists, her mouth a fine line. Harry knew her – knew girls – well enough to just stand by and stay quiet. Hermione gave a him a look and he just shrugged as well before she stormed off towards the library. He followed in pursuit.

The portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and Harry stepped through. The Gryffindor common room was a cosy round room full of squashy armchairs, round tables and a grand fireplace with a mantle adorned with a famous portrait of a golden lion that had been there for centuries. He looked around to find the tower practically empty, much to his joy, except for a few first years sprawled out across the rug in their pyjamas, scribbling desperately on parchment, presumably doing their homework.

He looked over and smiled at them; then they glanced over their shoulders and beamed up at him. "Hiya, Harry!" They called. He smiled and said a quiet hello before heading up the spiralling stone stairwell too his room. In all honestly, he was a little disappointed. He'd hoped he'd left dinner early enough to get the common room to himself but no such luck. He hadn't been in the mood to make painful Smalltalk and pleasant hello's. He wanted to strip and let loose. He could do that in his room but he felt as if he were spending enough time curled up in bed as it is, he wanted to be in the common room, by the warm fire, surrounded by scarlet tapestries depicting witches and wizards and animals both mortal and magical.

Also, he wanted to avoid being too close to the diary. If he were in the common room then he would be free to relax without the urge to reach beneath his pillow and grab it, but as he ascended the stone stairwell leading to the dormitories, he knew that he would have to read the diary sooner or later. Perhaps the time had come for him to finally read what Ghost had written.

He shut the door behind him with a bang and kicked off his shoes, snatched away his robes and untucked his white shirt. He collapsed onto the bed and listened to the sound of his heartbeat in his ears. He was being silly. Ghost wouldn't be able to tell when Harry read whatever message awaited him, so why not read it now? He reached beneath his pillow, the diary was still warm to the touch. He ran his palm across the velvety cover before flipped open the book to the last page he'd bookmarked to read what Ghost had wrote him.

'Harry? Are you there?

I know I shouldn't have done that, I just couldn't help myself. Please?

I'm just going to write out what I need to say and you'll see this when you're ready. Harry, I hope you don't go away. I don't want to go back to the time when we weren't in each other's lives. I remember I used to see you, I used to watch you and your friends in the great hall, sitting together in the library, laughing in classes and making your way down to Hagrid's together. I remember wanting to join you, to run by your side and talk to you. I was miserable. I've always been miserable until I met you. Until I found you. I know I shouldn't have kissed you, you weren't ready and I probably made it so much more awkward with it not being my face and it being Draco's. But I finally had you in my arms and I couldn't stop myself. I made a mistake but all I can do is apologise. I'm sorry, Harry. I hope you give me – give us – a second chance.

Love Ghost'

Love Ghost? The way he'd ended the letter made his heart flutter and the corners of his mouth twitch upwards.

The diary slipped between his fingers and he dropped his head to his pillow and he let out a loud groan. He was so conflicted, so annoyed with himself and with Ghost. He knew he and Ghost cared about one another deeply, beyond the point of a simple crush, but to see that word written down on paper and directed towards him made him tingle in ways he didn't know he could. The words together made Harry's insecurities seem pointless to him now, childish almost. It had only been a kiss, after all.

He'd been silly to run, he'd been stupid to turn Ghost away. Ghost liked him and Harry liked Ghost. Who cared if anyone else knew? Harry wanted this boy in his life and he wasn't going to turn away the only person to know his secret and share his feelings in return.

'I miss you.' Harry wrote back. 'I'm sorry too. Can we forget this ever happened? Go back to the way we used to be.'

It was another half an hour before he glanced over from the window and saw the words rise to the surface. 'Of course, cutie, I missed you too. I'm so sorry for what I did.'

'Don't be, that kiss was amazing. I never thought it would feel so good.' Harry wrote back, then he touched his lower lip again.

'If my kisses are that good, just you wait until I get into your pants.' Ghost then doodled another winking face and Harry burst into laughter.

Ghost and he had been talking for hours, and Harry only realized this when he heard two familiar voices arguing from the common room. He looked up at his clock and it was late. He changed into jogging bottoms and a fresh T-shirt before he set down the diary then made his way out to the balcony; Ron and Hermione were stood together in the common room, muttering beneath their breath.

"What's the matter with you two?" Harry asked as he made his way over.

"Ronald here wants me to help him with assignments now it's convenient for him."

"How many times do I have to say it? It's the anniversary of Lavender's first toad's death!"

"Yeah, Hermione." Harry smirked, prodding her in the arm. "Have some sympathy for the poor girl's dead toad."

"Oh, how rude of me!" She exclaimed, throwing up her arms and laughing. "I'll be sure to send an owl with my condolences!"

She stormed off across the room towards the table in the corner. Ron rolled his eyes. "You know she'll forgive you eventually, just keep apologising." Harry whispered to Ron. "You know she can't turn down homework."

"I heard that!" Hermione snarled. Harry just laughed and headed for the stairwell. "Aren't you going to get a start on yours?" Hermione asked. The way she said it indicated that he ought to be getting a start on his. After making up with Ghost, homework was the last thing on his mind. A brilliant thought came to mind.

"No, actually, I've got some free classes tomorrow, I'll start then. I didn't get much sleep last night, gonna try sleep early tonight." He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, yawning his words. "Goodnight," He told them, disappearing back up the stairs before she could argue back. He climbed back into bed and continued talking to Ghost. They talked well into the night and by the time Harry checked his watch again, most students were asleep – including Ron and his other roommates – and Harry was up late yet again. He'd told Ron that he'd lied to Hermione just to get out of doing homework; Ron had congratulated him on quick thinking but at least Hermione had helped him complete and entire assignment that evening. Just like homework, Hermione could never turn him away.

At some point their conversation had drifted to magical creatures and Ghost had said he wasn't a huge fan. He'd apparently been injured a few years back by one but when the message came through, it was not an explanation but something else entirely.

'Actually, can we talk soon? I've had a pretty stressful day myself and want to have a nice bath.'

He wrote his response. 'Yeah, okay. Go relax. Just don't fall asleep in the tub.' He joked.

'Yeah right. Who can sleep with Moaning Myrtle down the hall.'

"I know, right." Harry replied. 'Talk soon."

'Talk soon, cutie,'

Then Ghost was gone. Harry set down the diary and leaned back, but kept his head uncomfortably against the wooden headboard. He didn't want to fall asleep without saying goodnight to Ghost. He hoped when he did sleep he would dream of him, preferably in the bathtub. How could anyone expect Harry not to imagine Ghost naked when he said what he said. Harry imagined lots of bubbles, a steamy room, a perky bum.

Then it hit him. What Ghost had just said. 'With moaning Myrtle down the hall.' Ghost hadn't realized what he'd done but – he'd just told Harry exactly where he was going to be. Not Ghost wearing Polyjuice potion, actual Ghost. He was going to be in the boys' lavatory down the hall from the girl's lavatory on the first floor. He was going there now.

Harry dropped the diary onto his covers and twisted until he was sat upright, his bare feet on the cold floorboards. He ran a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide, lost and confused on what to do with this information. As he pulled back on some jogging bottoms and slipped his bare feet into some old trainers, he tried and failed to convince himself to go back to bed. Ghost wouldn't want this. He knew Ghost didn't want Harry to know who he was, not yet at least but Harry was a selfish guy sometimes. He knew he should have ignored it, let Ghost have his bath, and go back to bed – but he couldn't.

He threw his dad's invisibility cloak over his head and ran from the room, down the stairwell, through the portrait in the wall and down the grand staircase. He reached the first floor, barged through the door and closed it behind him. Once he was certain the corridor was empty, he pulled off his cloak and threw it over his arm. Lifting his wand, he whispered the word "Lumos." and the tip lit up with starlight.

He set off running. He sprinted down the corridor until he passed the girls lavatory – he caught myrtle moaning – then made his way to the boys. "Nox," Harry flicked his wand and was plunged into grey darkness again. He tried the handle and found the room open, he kept outside but pointed the tip through the crack. "Homenum Revelio." He felt nothing, sensed no response form the spell.

Good. Ghost wasn't there yet.

Harry ducked inside and made his way to the cubicles. He spotted the large bathtub the size of a pool. The idea that Ghost would be there soon frightened and excited him. Once inside the cubicle, he pulled the cloak out, threw it over himself and sat on the toilet lid. He brought his feet up to his chin just so his trainers wouldn't poke out. He was breathing heavily; he'd sprinted faster than he had in a long time just to get here before Ghost and now he could barely breathe. His breath fogged up his glasses and he used the cloak to rub them clean.

Harry couldn't believe where he was, what he was doing. He'd only jut made up with Ghost and what he was doing could compromise their friendship – their relationship – beyond repair. He was initially outing Ghost, even if it was to himself and he knew he would hate to be in Ghost's position.

Unfortunately for Harry, by the time he realized that this wasn't the best way to find out who Ghost was, the door opened and someone walked in.

He caught his breath.

Only now did he remember that other students knew the human-presence-revealing spell and if they used it he would be discovered. Luckily, whomever it was walked into the bathroom without muttering a single word and a second later Harry heard the water running.

It was Ghost.

Harry felt his heart pounding in his chest and he wondered if Ghost could hear it too. Had it always been so loud? Ghost started to hum. Harry smiled, not recognizing the tune but that didn't matter to him. Ghost sounded nice, even if it was humming. He heard the ruffle of fabric, clothes being dropped to the floor. He imagined him dropping his trousers, his boxers, then striding naked and proud into the tub.

He heard the splash as Ghost stepped into the water, then a sigh, a sound of relief.

Harry hated himself for what he was about to do.

Harry eased open the cubicle door and stepped out.

The cloak covered him, Ghost hadn't heard the squeaky hinges.

At first Harry could see someone beneath the bubbly water but could only make out ivory skin. He stepped closer. He glanced down at the clothes and the robes, the black boxers and the emerald-lined robes of a Slytherin. He gulped and took another step. The figure beneath the water ran their bony fingers through their longish white blonde hair. Harry took yet another step. Ghost broke the surface of the water and threw his head back, taking in two full lungs of hot, steamy, scented air. Harry saw him from behind and took in how thin Ghost was, how his pasty skin was tight; he could see Ghost's spine and his ribs.

He took another step.

And then Ghost turned around and Harry gasped.

Ghost heard the sound, his soft features hardened, he reached for his wand at the side of the tub and lifted it, aiming at where Harry stood.

"Who's there?" He growled.

Harry froze, unable to speak, unable to move.

"Show yourself!" He snapped in that sharp voice.

Harry found the strength to do one thing: he dropped the cloak.

Ghost leapt back in the water, his wand dropped to the tiles by the side of the tub with a clatter. Ghost's eyes were wide with panic and horror.

"Harry." Ghost said, the word passing through his lips before he could stop himself. That word was all Harry needed to know that this was in fact Ghost.

He let out a shaky breath.

"Draco…"

Asher's Note:

Hello Everyone! My apologies for leaving it so long to update this story. Honestly, I've been busy at work and found it difficult to find inspiration for this chapter. I hope what I've written will suffice. I hope to see your thoughts and opinions and thank you to everyone who reviewed!

Responding to your reviews:

The Night Goddess: Hello back to you! Thank you very much, that's very sweet and it made my day when I read it. I hope you don't mind that Harry started to forgive Draco and what happened in this chapter – though the end of this chapter quite clearly demonstrates that it's not an easy road from here on out. Again, thank you so much and I am sorry for the wait!

CursedRaven: Love the name! I asked what you meant quite a while again referring to you saying you felt cheated on the last chapter. I'm going to post here what I explained to you just in case any others felt the same and would like an explanation. You explained you felt cheated as the build-up lead to a sad ending. I totally understand where you're coming from. It would have been so much easier to allow Harry and Ghost to just have an amazing first kiss and spend the rest of the night talking. Though I had to put myself in Harry's shoes and I thought about what I would do if I were him. He's in the closet, but someone out there knows the truth about him; this alone is enough to terrify any LGBTQ+ individual. The threat of being exposed when they are not ready. It' true Harry trusts Ghost but I suppose there is a fear in the back of his mind that this boy, whom is seemingly perfect to Harry in every way, will suddenly change and it turns out all his hopes are for nought. Ghost's fear of coming out, even to Harry, is another reason Harry is so worried. He feels If Ghost would just confess who he really is then he will be able tom accept it and the two can work this out. Does that make sense? In short, Harry still worries that Ghost may turn on him and out him as being gay when he is not ready and Ghost does not want to confess who he is to Harry and this only fuels his fear. It'll be explained in chapters to come. Also, so sorry for such a long reply!

Cadi-Pika1993: Interesting theory! I did once write a gay story with Dumbledore and Snape but I am not sure if it is still up! Lol.

Bookgirl111: I know I already explained Barry to you in a private message but I just wanted to explain again for anyone else who saw and wondered who the hell is Barry!? There is no Barry. In my own personal story, there is a character called Barry who is gay. When I wrote Chapter 3 It was very late and because I was so used to writing Barry, I did not notice that I called Harry by a different name! I am embarrassed and I hope it has not happened again in this one! (If so, please let me know!)

High-lady-feyre: Hello You! I'm not sure if I responded to your review in one of our many private messages but I'll reply here just in case! Thank you again for saying you enjoyed the pairing of Harry and Malfoy. I always loved them together too! I was proud of the doppel-diary idea! Thank you, lol. Of course, I know it's you! :D

Guest #1: Thank you so much, sorry for the wait!

Mysticalgems: Thank you so much, I'm glad you enjoyed! You're right, it did hurt Draco. We'll see if they can work it out in chapters to come, there is a lot the two of them need to discuss. Thank you so much for your sweet review, it made my day! :D

Umi87: Thank you so much! Sorry for the wait, I hope you enjoy!

Damblucookies: Awesome name! Thank you, sorry for the long wait!

~Asher~