"Come again?" Did I hear him right?

"I'm gay!" Draco was getting tired of Harry's shockingly dense mind-set.

"You're…gay?"

"Yes!"

"Uh…cool."

"Cool?"

"Are you out?"

"Guess that's up to you isn't it?" Should I be annoyed that he thinks I can't keep a secret? Harry didn't have it in him to be affronted.

"I won't tell anyone."

"Even Ron and Hermione?" That must be progress, he didn't say Weasley or Mudblood. Harry thought about it for a moment, before replying, "I don't think they'll ask."

"Fair enough." Draco ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair.

"Who knows about you?" Harry couldn't help being curious about the intimate details of Draco's previously unknown secret.

"No one. Well, you do now. But before that, no one." Draco looked into Harry's eyes.

"What about you?"

"Hermione figured it out before I did."

"Of course."

"Ron doesn't know, but that's because he's a thick-skulled bastard."

"I can't help but agree." There would have been a time, possibly that morning, when Harry would have started a fight for less words than those. I can't believe how much I've changed in just a few hours "Do your…parents know?" Draco looked horrified.

"Oh no. Purebloods haven't really moved on from the Middle Ages. Same outfits, same prejudices. My mother would crucify me if she found out."

At least he has a mother. This traitorous thought surfaced in his head before Harry had the chance to stop it. He had promised himself years ago that he would stop comparing his life to others. Especially his friends. Which I guess Draco is now. Harry wondered when the right time to tell Ron would be. He would probably find some way to make himself and Harry uncomfortable. Even though there was absolutely no way he would ever be attracted to Ron. Never mind actually act on it if he did. Hermione would crucify him. So would Ron. While the Weasleys were more progressive than the Malfoys, there was still a lingering homophobia that permeated all areas of the wizarding world. Like when the Daily Prophet had been persecuting Hermione, Harry might be the one on the receiving end of Mrs Weasley's sharp stares. A comfortable silence fell between the pair. Neither needed to speak or reassure the other that it wasn't out of spite. Draco let out a long, drawn out sigh. It wasn't an unhappy sigh, merely a bored one.

"Not that I don't enjoy your company Harry. I do, I really do." Here we go with the sarcasm again. Sometimes I think that he doesn't know what sincerity is. The annoyance in these thoughts was only half-hearted. Harry only felt slight exasperation at Draco's quirks now. Draco snapped his fingers under Harry's nose.

"Impatient as always." "A daydreaming ignoramus as always, Harry. Now where I was…Oh yeah… how the bloody fuck are we going to get out of this thrice-damned shoebox of a cupboard?!" "Calm the bloody hell down Draco!" Harry waited a moment for Draco to simmer down. It's no fun dealing with an angry Slytherin.

"We have to get out Harry. We have to! I can't die in here! I haven't lived! My parents don't know I'm gay! My friends don't know I'm gay!" Harry could the Slytherin was working himself up into a frenzy. So he decided to put a stop to it.

"DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY! Calm yourself down!" This seemed to do the trick. Draco stopped panicking and just stared at Harry.

"So. It's only been a day, right? And this is Hogwarts, so anything can happen in 24 hours. Our friends could be doing any number of things right now. They could even be frantically searching for us, not thinking to check the broom cupboard, because what idiot would be stuck in there?" Harry felt he was moving away from his original point.

"What I'm trying to say is, at some point someone is going to come and get their broom." Here he gestured to the musty old sticks that lined two of the walls.

"And when they do, they'll notice the door is locked and send for help." Harry hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. Years of bad experience in seemingly innocent circumstances had made him cynical and distrustful of all that appeared to be ordinary.

"You're right."

Even a small amount of response from Draco was more than Harry had been hoping for. It's odd for him to be optimistic at all. Slytherins aren't known for their optimism.

"We'll get out of here eventually...alive or dead." And there it is.

"Be happy Draco. You couldn't hope for better company."

"I tolerate you, that's all. But, I suppose, at least I'm not stuck in here with Mclaggan. However, I'll be honest with you Harry, I don't dream of the last thing I'll ever see being your ugly mug." Harry stuck his tongue out at him. Git.

"If you're finished making grotesque expressions at me, shall we make a plan?" "I have an idea." For the sake of drama, he drew closer to Draco and began to whisper animatedly, gesturing all the while.

Later that same day...

The room was filled with a variety of failed escape attempts. A mess of conjured ropes lay in one corner, some of which were still attached to Harry's legs. A broomstick with legs was repeatedly ramming itself against the door, to no avail.
at five minute intervals, Draco would groan, rise from the floor and shout Alohomora several times at the door, gesticulating wildly with his wand.
When he pointed it near Harry, the other boy would duck out the way, not wanting to be hit by any stray magic. Well. We tried. Again.

Harry was surprisingly calm about this. Me and wavy-wand over there will be in this cupboard forever and- Harry's thoughts of acceptance were cut short by a faint noise. He looked at the still-ranting Draco questioningly.
"Don't look at me. It must be coming from outside." Before both boys had fully absorbed what this meant, they were at the door, yelling and hollering with all the strength they could summon. "Hey you! Get us out of here!"

"Who is there?! In the name of Merlin's bollocks let us out!"

The sound faded away as quickly as it had come. "What on earth was that?" said Harry, slumping to the ground.

"It sounded like...an explosion! A really, really quiet explosion."

"An explosion? Why would there be an exp-wait, it's Hogwarts."

Draco nodded sagely.

"Explosions are more common than chocolate frogs here."

"Precisely."

"What if someone is hurt?" Draco thought for a moment, "Not much we can do really, is there?" "We can shout for help a bit more." Draco nodded, "Yeah, we can do that." Both of them began yelling again, desperation increased. "Come on man! LET US OUT!" "We could starve in here you know!" Another voice rang out, from right next to the door, sarcasm levels raging. "What sort of wizard's can't conjure food?!" Harry and Draco were so startled by this unexpected development that they both jumped back a few feet. "Who's there?" Harry's mistrust was completely justified. Most of his life he had been in danger from the unknown and the known. "Yeah tell us or we'll hex you." Draco's cautious attitude was also justified. He had spent the day in a cupboard with Harry Potter and didn't know what to expect. "Hex me? Through a door? A door protected by centuries of wards cast by the headmasters of Hogwarts? Go on then, try me." That voice sounds familiar, almost like... "Hermione!" Harry yelled, just as Draco, idiot that he is, raised his wand in anger. "Harry?! We've been looking for you all day! What happened? Why are you in the broom cupboard? And who's in there with you?" Harry replied, voice broken in exhaustion, "That's a seemingly very long, but actually surprisingly short story Hermione, and if you let us out we'll tell you all about it."