This chapter is now UP! Here we are, one of the moments we've all been waiting for. Confession time!

Chapter 6 - Confessions

Harry had just finished his apple when incoming footsteps signalled his third lesson. He scrambled to his feet as the people drew nearer, hiding in the shadows of the alcove he was in.

"Potter?"

'Shit! How'd they see me?' Looking down, he saw that his bag was poking out of his hiding spot, giving him away. Stepping out to face the approaching Gryffindors, Harry made sure his mask was firmly in place. "Yes, Weasley?" He intoned coldly.

Ronald narrowed his eyes hatefully, his wand hand clenching into a fist. "Just coming to see if poor little 'abused' Harry is okay," he snickered, turning to face the rest of the Weasleys and Hermione, who had stepped up behind him at the prospect of an altercation.

"Shut up, Ron. Shut UP!" Harry flushed angrily, the thought of more people knowing, and worse yet not believing him, spiking his uncontrollable magic.

The walls around them started to crumble, and Hermione screamed as a bludger sized piece of debris flew past, millimetres away from her head.

"Stop it, Potter! We all know you're just an attention seeking little liar. This is just more proof!" Ron shouted, gesturing towards the surrounding mess. His own face was turning a hideous shade of puce now, and this time, he did reach for his wand. "Reducto!" The blue light coursed it's morbid way toward Harry, intent on blowing him to smithereens.

Harry, now pulling his own wand free from it's holster, produced a 'protego' shield around himself, narrowly escaping his deadly fait.

"Weasley! Mr. Potter! Lower your wands at once," Snape bellowed stepping out of his classroom in order to find out what all the noise was about. Waving his own wand, he cleared up the mess, sending a Patronus to the caretaker, Argus Filch, letting him know there was a destructed alcove that needed to be reconstructed. "Potter, with me." He then turned to the rest of the gathered Gryffinfors and Slytherins, gracing them all with an unwavering glare before taking one hundred and fifty points from Gryffindor for 'atrocious lack of conduct and house unity'. Severus, after one last dagger towards the youngest Weasley male, grabbed Harry firmly - but not painfully, Harry was surprised to note - by the back of his neck, steering him towards the potions classroom.

Once inside, Snape instantly let go of the boy, turning and locking the door with a wave of his long ebony wand.

Moving to sit behind his desk, he motioned for Harry to take the seat that had appeared before him. "Potter... Harry. What happened?" His voice was stern but not menacing.

"I-I... It was my fault, Professor-" Harry began.

"Is that so? What have I told you before about lying Mr. Potter? Five points from Gryffindor. Now, from what I saw and heard, it was Weasley who threw the first spell - him who taunted you. What was it he said? Ah yes, 'seeing how poor - abused - Harry is'. Am I correct?" His tone and eyes softened, however, at the look on the boy's face - that of a kicked puppy.

"I take it they know, and consequently do not believe you, about the abuse you suffered at he hands of those despicable muggles?"

Harry bit his lip. What was there to say?

When he received no reply, Severus went on to what he had needed to tell the child. "You are to be resorted-," he raised a hand to silence the oncoming tantrum before continuing on. "-into Slytherin, if I am right. And let me assure you, Mr. Potter, I am always right. There, you will be cared for and looked after as if you were any other child; I will not continue to burden you with that goddamned status and responsibility you have lain upon your shoulders. You can be yourself there, Harry. Trust me." He took a deep breath at the end of his speech, holding it for the explosion that was about to come, but, to his surprise, it never did.

Harry closed his eyes. After what had just occurred, being resorted sounded pretty damn good. But into Slytherin? Of course, he knew that was where the Sorting Hat had wanted to put him in his first year, but would he fit in there? Would they accept him after all the animosity from the years before?

These were the troubling questions that flitted through his mind, thoughts racing at a million miles an hour, trying to figure out what to say. 'Would it really be so bad?'

"A-are you sure, sir? I mean... I've been nothing but a nuisance to you for five years. Would you really be willing to accept me?"

Snape sighed, explaining that he'd had to play the part of Death Eater so that the children of the Dark Lord's followers did not suspect him to be foul at play. "After all that has happened these past two days Harry, you still have to ask?" The professor stepped round his desk now, until he was standing in front of the self conscious boy.

Hesitating for only a moment, he wrapped the boy in his arms, offering reassurance one of the only ways he knew how.

At first Harry tensed, the unfamiliar action startling him, but after a minute or so, he leaned into his professor, revelling in the feeling of comfort he was receiving.

A muffled voice from the front of his robe made Severus pull back, holding the boy at arms length as he spoke.

"I think I agree, Professor. Thank you." And he threw himself back into the welcoming arms, breath hitching as he tried to keep himself under control.

Severus, still holding the child to him, lay his pointed chin atop the boys head, humming in his calm baritone as he attempted to calm the boy. It seemed to work, as a few moments later Harry came out from his new favourite hiding spot of Snape's arms, wiping his eyes and murmuring a soft 'thank you, sir'.

"It is not a problem, child. Now wipe your eyes and take a seat - class will begin within the next minute." The Potions Master then transformed his face into it's usual stony mask and flicked his wrist, unlocking the door. Sixth year students piles in, having been leaning in to hear Harry's 'punishment'.

Horrified, Harry shot a look at Snape, who just raised his eyebrows and quirked a knowing lip at him, nodding to let Harry know that there had been a silencing spell cast on the room since they had entered. Sighing in relief, Harry let himself relax into his chair, ready to focus on his work.

Potions class went smoothly, and by the end, Harry even felt cheerful, a slight spring in his step as he left the room. By dinner he was positively glowing at the knowledge he was to be resorted. His mood deflated a little, however, when he realised the headmaster probably didn't know about this new turn of events, sure that if he did, Harry would be dead by now.

Remembering his meeting with Draco, Harry scarfed down the last of his spaghetti bolognese and ran down to the lake, eager to share the news with somebody. When he got there, he was disappointed to find that Malfoy - or should that be 'Draco' now? - hadn't yet arrived.

He sat on the sandy shore of the lake, looking out at the ripping mass, pale moonlight shining down, illuminating his hair as if he wore a halo. The shadows on the right his face his the joy he felt, but Draco approached from the left, having the honour of witnessing Harry's true feelings full force.

"What's got you so chirpy, Potter?" Draco let out a laugh as he swaggered over to the prone boy, barking out a laugh as he jumped, nearly falling into the water.

"Call me Harry... Please?" He didn't know what had made him say that, but Harry was sure he wouldn't regret it. "I have some news."

"Well isn't that a coincidence? As do I." Malfoy sat beside Harry, pulling his knees up to his chest and taking his plump lower lip between his teach, nibbling thoughtfully. "You first."

Harry, not unable to contain himself or his excitement, told Draco how he was to change houses. "Snape says it'll most likely be Slytherin, which I reckon is probably true 'cause that's where the hat wanted to put me in the first place," he blabbed, taking no notice of the slight widening of his companion's eyes. When he finally became aware, he fell silent, feeling stupid. "What?"

"Okay, let me get this straight. First of all you're talking civilly to Professor Snape, and secondly, you chose what house you were placed into? How on earth did you manage that?!" Malfoy exclaimed, aghast.

Harry was confused. Of all the things, they were the first questions he asked? He had really got the wrong end of the stick with this boy...

"Well, I just asked to be put somewhere I'd be welcome - not Slytherin - and the hat said I'd better go to Gryffibdor."

"Merlin, Harry. I've never heard of that happening before." Thinking hard, Draco thought how best to word his next question. "Do you think, say, if you had been sorted into Slytherin, we could have been... friends?"

"Yes." Came Harry's instant reply. He didn't even think - just spoke. "I think, if I had been put in your house, we would have gotten along very well. It was Weasley who told me not to befriend you."

"He what?!"

"Yeah... He told me you were a smarmy git who picked on people and lied to get friends. Guess he described himself pretty well, huh?"

"That little weasel... I-...um, Harry. I need to tell you something myself, actually," Draco began timidly.

"What is it? I know we've not exactly been the best of friends but... I don't dislike you. And besides, you're the only person my age who seems to want to talk to me this year." Harry laughed. If he was being honest, he might even have said he quite liked Draco Malfoy. His dreams of the blond haired menace occupied his thoughts so much lately, it was a wonder he could focus at all.

"I... Well, you see... I'm-I'm gay."

'Well that wasn't what I was expecting...' Thought Harry. "You are?" He asked, curiously piqued. "Why're you telling me this?"

"Because... I think maybe-... Merlin, Harry! I'm in love with you."