Hello lovelies. I know it has been a while since I've updated and I'm so sorry for that. I had a family emergency and was in the hospital for a few days. And, as I'm sure you can guess, they do not allow for technology use in hospitals. After I wanted to focus on getting back on my feet before even considering how to update the next chapter. But I became inspired and here we are! Hope this meets your expectations!
When Harry finally made it back to the boy's dormitory, he found Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville standing in shock at Blaise sprawled out on his four poster and Draco curled up under the blankets of his. Harry joined the back of the congregation as his fellow Gryffindors turned to him in horror.
"What the devil is the meaning of this?" Seamus exclaimed as he gestured to the two sleeping boys that clearly did not belong where they currently lay. "Did you know about this Harry? I'd heard about some stupid epidemic of pink hair but I never thought it would land on us to—"
"It's ridiculous," Neville squeaked, attempting to look angry rather than scared. "After all the animosity between our houses, why would they choose to put them with us? Draco and Harry are enemies after all."
"Bloody 'house unity,'" Ron muttered darkly, "keep your eyes open boys, there's no telling what these bastards could decide to do to us in enemy territory. I don't care what Dumbledore says, I don't trust them for a minute."
"Guys you're all being absolutely ridiculous," Harry interjected. All eyes focused incredulously on him. "What I mean is," he stammered, trying to remember the amazing point he'd been thinking of only moments before, "that…uh…we can't hold grudges forever. People change and I think that if Dumbledore trusts this to work, we should at least give him the benefit of the doubt and remain positive until something goes wrong."
"I agree with Harry," Dean piped up suddenly. "After all," he said with a sly grin, "who am I to pass up rooming with two very attractive bad boys?"
"Just because you and Harry are gay does not mean that we all want to stare at Slytherin boys changing," Ron replied hotly. "And what is with every gay man in this school coming out all of a sudden?!"
"It's about time," Dean said with a shrug. "Once Harry was out, there was really no holding back, and Draco's been obviously gay since day one. No point hiding who you are."
"Way to go Harry, you've started another trend…the great gay parade," Ron said, rolling his eyes as he did so. "Well I guess it's better that you guys can be honest and trust that you can be who you are…"
"Well said," called Dean. "Now if you boys will excuse me, if I stare too much longer I might have to jump into bed with one of these sexy men, so I'm going to bed." Dean retreated to his bed, playfully squeezing Seamus's arse as he went and causing him to yelp indignantly. Dean laughed. "You'll come out one day to me Sea, and then..." he made a sweeping gesture as he closed the curtains around his four poster, "the rest will be, as they say, history."
The boys stared at the closed curtains in shock, then all turned to Seamus with raised eyebrows.
"I don't know what you're staring at," he exclaimed hotly, his face turning red as he spoke. "Bloke's just…off is rocker a bit…not enough sleep…or…something…" Mumbling faintly as he retreated, Seamus walked quickly to his bed and shut the curtains behind him.
"Well…" Neville said awkwardly, "while we're all hear I wanted to tell everyone—"
"Nope, sorry! Nothing against gays but I can only take so many of my friends coming out at once, Neville," Ron said dashing to his bed and jumping under the covers. "We'll have this conversation tomorrow Neville."
"No worries, he's really cool with it, he just doesn't want to see any tongue action," Harry said, patting Neville on the shoulder as he wandered to his own bed. "Night Neville…and… way to go! Nothing wrong with being who you are." As Harry pulled his curtains around him, he couldn't help but notice that Draco's bed was just right of his own. Laying down on his pillow, he attempted to stop the thoughts still swirling about his head. What had Blaise been on about? Could he trust him? Was he setting him up? But then again, why should he even care? It was Draco Malfoy they were talking about for God's sake—nothing worth getting excited about. And yet…Harry thought back over the past 5 years of his life at Hogwarts he couldn't deny that aside from studies, flying, and actually having friends, Draco Malfoy had always managed to turn up. He had always been around to make things difficult or add in his usually unhelpful opinion, but Harry had grown accustomed to it, comfortable with it, almost enjoyed the bantering. When Draco started ignoring him as of last year, things just felt eerily quiet. Wrong. Something was missing without Draco in his life. That thought alone was enough to disturb Harry. Burying his head under his pillow in an attempt to forget everything that had happened, he couldn't help but notice the rhythmic sound of Draco's quiet breathing.
Still standing in the middle of the dormitory, Neville finally spoke to no one in particular, "but all I wanted to say was that my newest plant finally sprouted…I'm not gay."
No one answered him.
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Draco woke earlier than usual on Saturday. This was surprising because he usually used his weekends to catch up on beauty sleep. For some reason, he couldn't seem to be able to roll over and burrow deeper into the blankets the way he normally did in his own bed. He lay in bed staring up at the top of his four poster and tried to decide what to do with the extra hours that lay before him. Never one for indecision, Draco decided to go fly for a few hours while the pitch was empty. Quickly dressing behind the hangings of his bed, Draco grabbed his broom and quietly made his way out of the boy's dormitory and into the common room. Both were blessedly empty—most Gryffindors were probably still asleep or down at breakfast. Draco preferred it that way. He had no desire to stick out like a sore thumb every time he had to pass through unfamiliar territory. Draco met no one on his way to the entrance hall and as he approached the Quidditch pitch, he saw that it was, indeed, deserted. Smiling to himself, Draco kicked off from the ground and took off at top speed, enjoying the way his anxiety and stress fell behind him as he sped ahead.
Flying had always been a passion of Draco's. Although he had never been as good of a Quidditch player as Harry was, Draco found that his favorite time to fly was in the mornings or evenings. He felt more relaxed when he was able to be on his own and use the freedom flying provided to sort through his thoughts. After completing a few laps, Draco contented himself to aimlessly weaving around the pitch as his thoughts began to gather themselves. Annoyingly, his mind seemed set of focusing on Harry Potter. Draco exhaled loudly, a look of irritation on his face. Fine he thought, what great mystery is there to solve when it comes to Harry fucking Potter? As if his mind was connected to a tape player, Draco reviewed his thoughts from the previous day and sighed, realizing that he would never be satisfied with simply remaining indecisively in the wings. He had to choose what he was going to do next, what his next step would be. Draco's stomach lurched at the thought of making such a decision and he bent lower over the handle of his broom, hoping the increased speed would settle his nerves. Really, he was being childish. There was absolutely no reason for Potter to have such control over his emotions. It was ridiculous. If he didn't know any better, he would say that he actually wanted to do something about his feelings.
As soon as this thought popped into his mind, Draco felt an excitement he hadn't experienced in years. It was a nervous excitement, but a feeling that demanded action. Deep down, Draco knew he had already made up his mind. Backing off and pretending Potter didn't exist was not an option any longer. Well, it was, but he'd be miserable if he took that path and Draco could not stand people who wallowed in their regrets. So, if stepping out of the picture wasn't a choice, where did that leave him? He rolled over on his broom a few times and spiraled upwards, hoping to jog his thoughts towards a more definite answer. Draco methodically tried to put his chain of thoughts into place. He wanted to get closer to Harry, he couldn't deny that. So, how did he do that? Did his just strike up a conversation with him? About what? He grimaced as he imagined himself lamely asking Potter what the transfiguration homework was or whether if it was supposed to rain this weekend. Looking up at the gathering clouds, it didn't seem like a bad guess. Okay, so trivial conversation wasn't an option. So what then? Draco supposed he could ask Blaise, but the idea of requesting help, especially regarding his feelings for Potter, made him flush uncomfortably. He shelved that as a last-minute resort. What he would love to do, he realized was just get some time alone with Potter. Talk to him, get to know him more, understand what was going on inside his head. Draco had always been amazed when he happened to overhear some of the conversations Potter had with Weasley and Granger in the library. For someone who could never escape the limelight, he seemed amazingly grounded…like he understood more than most teenagers. That he meant what he said and was a genuine person. The logical thing would be to ask Potter to Hogsmeade with him. There was a trip in a week and they could get coffee or Butterbeer and spend a few hours getting to know one another. Draco's stomach did another summersault at the thought of asking Harry fucking Potter on a date with him. The only other option Draco saw was to wait for Potter to ask him, but Draco had never been a patient person so with a slight nod, he spiraled down towards the pitch, his mind made up. He touched the grass just as the sky open up and it started to pour.
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Harry stared moodily out at the rain rushing down the library windows. He wished for the thousandth time that day that he had gotten up earlier like he had planned and gone flying before the storm hit. Normally, rain didn't bother him, but lightening was flashing at regular intervals and Hermione had jumped on the inclement weather to remind him that they had a lot of work to catch up on. Hermione came back to the table she, Harry, and Ron were currently occupying in the library and dropped a stack of books right next to Ron's ear. Ron, who had fallen asleep on his potion's essay, jumped and fell off his chair, spilling ink all over himself.
"What the bloody hell was that for?!" he demanded, looking up angrily.
Madam Pince came from around the corner with a disapproving look on her face. "Causing a ruckus in my library Mr. Weasley?" the librarian croaked threateningly as she studied the scene before her.
"N-no ma'am," Ron spluttered, attempting to wipe the ink splotches off the carpet. "Jus'….cleaning?"
Madam Pince scowled and walked away muttering something about "hooligans" under her breath.
Ron glared at Hermione. "You drag me down here on a Saturday to do work and then almost get me kicked out of the library? You really need to reevaluate you goals."
Hermione snorted. "Please. You fell asleep and I woke you up. The fact that you were lazy enough to leave your ink bottle open was your own fault."
As the two continued to argue in whispers, Harry tuned out his friends' voices and went back to aimlessly staring out the window. He almost always enjoyed Ron and Hermione's company, but for some reason, he felt he would much rather be alone. Something just felt like it was missing. He couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly, but something told him it was neither Ron, nor Hermione's fault. That being said, Harry knew he would not be able to explain his feelings to them. They would listen, nod sympathetically, and blame the weather, lack of sleep, or bad dreams again, all of which Harry knew where playing no part in his moodiness. Just as he was considering attempting to be productive and finish his own Potions essay, a book flew over the nearest bookshelf and landed with a loud thump in front of Harry. Ron and Hermione stopped arguing and looked up, startled, and stared suspiciously at the object in front of Harry. The book was titled The Handler's Guide to Dragon Training and appeared weather-beaten and rather burned around the edges.
"Planning something for Hagrid, Harry? Because if you are, I might need to walk you back down memory lane to revisit Norbert," Ron huffed indignantly. Both he and Hermione looked concerned, remembering the last time Hagrid had tried to keep a dragon as a pet.
Harry shook his head. "Please, I have no desire to lose any fingers…or hair."
"Maybe it was an accident," Hermione reasoned. "Someone was too lazy to put the book back in its proper place and sent it somewhere else to get rid of it."
Harry absentmindedly flipped through the pages until he found a small, folded piece of paper. He removed it curiously and stared as he saw his own name scrawled on the front of the note in messy letters. Looking around, Harry saw no one who appeared to be watching him; actually no one else seemed to be in this section of the library at all. Opening the note slowly, Harry's brow knitted in confusion as he read the words on the paper.
Have you ever wanted to get to know someone, but felt that you weren't worthy for a minute of their time? I may not be, but I'd still like to spend time with you…just in case. Keep an eye out, you'll hear from me soon.
Harry dropped the note and jumped up from the table. He sprinted around the bookshelf behind him to find the aisle…empty. He ran up and down all the rows in the library and found only a small group of Hufflepuff third years, loudly complaining about the essay Professor Flitwick had assigned them. When Harry sat back down, Ron and Hermione were pouring of the note.
"Harry, who wrote this?" Ron asked.
Harry shrugged.
"Maybe it was meant for another Harry."
"Don't be so stupid Ron," Hermione scoffed. The way the note is written, the fact that it's addressed to Harry Potter, that it landed in front of him, I highly doubt this was an accident."
"Then who could it be from? Harry has plenty of admirers," Ron pointed out. "It could be a first year Hufflepuff for all we know."
"I doubt it," Hermione said. "The wording makes it seem like this person has known Harry for a long time and they've wanted to talk to him. "
"So, another fangirl?"
"Ron, everyone knows Harry is gay and this handwriting is purposefully messy. The person wanted to make sure Harry knew they were male."
Ron looked at her incredulously. "And how the bloody hell can you say that?"
"Come on Ron—Harry, Malfoy, and Dean aren't the only gay individuals at Hogwarts. And Harry is quite attractive. It's really quite logical that another male may find him desirable, but not be completely comfortable because of Harry's reputation at the 'Savior of the Wizarding World' and all that." Hermione finished her spiel and looked defiantly at her two friends.
"What if it's a trap? Some homophobic bastard may be trying to make a fool out of Harry or hurt him."
"Hmm," Hermione thought for a moment. "I hadn't thought of that. Maybe that is the case. We'll have to keep an eye out. The person did say that Harry would hear from them again soon. But it could just be someone who's shy."
Harry couldn't be sure if he believed Hermione because he trusted her or because part of him wanted what she said to be true, but he suddenly found his heart beating faster and his spirits lifting. Maybe today wasn't a complete waste after all. He glanced around the deserted library once more, looked down at the messy words before him, and smiled ever so slightly. Again, he couldn't say why, but he had to strangest feeling that whoever sent the note was watching him. Without thinking, he grabbed a fresh piece of parchment, scribbled a quick note, and dashed out of the library, leaving Ron and Hermione behind in shock. As Harry rounded the corner to the grand staircase, he rushed right by Draco Malfoy who had been forced to jump behind a statue as Harry sped from the library.
Draco sat down on the floor. He wasn't sure what he had expected Potter's reaction to be, but he had never predicted that he would have to hide again in order keep himself from being caught spying on the trio in the library. Despite the shock of having to move from one hiding spot to another, Draco was almost positive that the smile on Potter's face had been the most genuine he had seen in weeks. Or maybe his mind was just playing tricks on him.
Less time between now and the next update, promise! Feel free to comment, respond, suggest, etc.. Sending you ALL huge hugs :3