(A/N): So looking at my show schedule, I do not have a lot of spare hours to write between that and revising. I'll try to get another chapter out by next week but check the tumblr tag - drarryhandinglove - for any updates.
(Also woo! Hogwarts Mystery! I'm a Hufflepuff and addicted!)
Draco Malfoy stopped kissing Harry Potter.
Harry thought it hadn't been long enough. His head felt light and his mouth tingled. When he opened his eyes, it felt as though he was waking up from a dream.
"Well then," Draco's voice was somewhere between a murmur and a whisper.
Harry swallowed.
"So, then."
Draco leant forward and kissed him tenderly again. His mouth was warm against the night air and the chill felt unnatural against Harry's lips.
"Finally found something you're good at, Potter."
He could feel Draco's eyelashes against his cheek. His heart was racing.
"You too," Harry said. Draco gave a breathy laugh as they both realised what little sense he was making.
"Come on. We should get going before you get expelled."
"For kissing you?"
"No, you tosser, for flying," Draco swung off of his own broom and Harry blinked, remembering the broom in his own hand. It seemed like a long time ago that he had been flying. Kissing had been a much better way to forget the burden on his shoulders.
"Oh," Harry said, "right."
Draco gave another breathy laugh. He seemed somewhat nervous. Harry had never known him to be nervous, but he kept glancing at him. His grey eyes kept trailing over Harry's face, as though he couldn't quite believe what had happened either.
They reached the broom cupboard and Harry placed Fred's broom back in. He gave his Firebolt another longing look. And then everything went dark.
"Malfoy, open the door," he snapped, turning, only to find himself pressed against Draco.
"I can't," he could hear Draco jiggling the handle half-heartedly, "the door's stuck."
"Stop being a dick, I busted the lock."
"You really are a bad boy now, aren't you?" Draco was almost purring.
"Malfoy."
"Maybe if you kiss me again, I'll let you go."
Harry frowned up at him in the dark. He couldn't see a thing, but he could feel Draco's breath on his face. He leant forward, his nose bumping against Draco's in his effort to find his mouth. They kissed again. Harry's hands found Draco's shoulders and he liked how they felt under his fingers. He liked how Draco's fingers felt as they rested on his hips.
The first few kisses had been hesitant, giving each other a chance to pull away. But now that they were kissing, there was a fire in Harry's chest. He wanted to kiss Draco Malfoy. He opened his mouth and decided they were too far away from each other. He slipped his arms around Draco's neck and leant forward, pressing his chest against Draco's. He seemed so solid. He could feel Draco's hands clutching at his back.
The door creaked open where Draco had stopped holding it shut and they stumbled backwards onto the Quidditch Pitch. Draco pulled away slightly, studying Harry's eyes.
"Harry, mate, are you out here?" a booming voice called across the grounds. Harry swore as he recognised it as Ron's.
"What will old Weasley think of this?" Draco asked, glancing over his shoulder.
"Draco, I," Harry stopped. He didn't want to hide this. He wanted to be able to say it didn't matter and be brave enough to face the school as a couple. But he wasn't, "maybe I should - I think I'd better-"
"I know," Draco's voice was soft, "he'd probably hex me. Go on," he paused to kiss Harry once more, tugging him around so that Draco stood by the broom closet instead. So that Draco stood in the shadows, "I'll talk to you later."
"Yeah," Harry said. "Later."
He started back across the pitch, glancing back only to see Draco still shrouded in the shadows. Watching him.
"Harry, where've you gotten to?" Ron bellowed once more.
Harry stepped out of the Quidditch Pitch, almost colliding into Ron. He stepped back and stared at Harry, blinking as though he was an apparition.
"Hi," Harry said. He hoped he sounded normal, but he couldn't quite hide the elation in his stomach from his voice.
"What are you doing out here?"
"Taking a walk," Harry was proud of how easily the lie came from him.
"On the Quidditch pitch?"
"Yeah."
"At night?"
"I enjoy the night air," he was getting better at it, he was sure.
"In your school robes?"
"I can hardly change into my pyjamas to go on a walk, can I, Ron?"
"Couldn't you have worn jeans, or something?"
Harry blinked.
"No."
Ron stared at him.
"Are you going to come back to the Common Room?"
"Uh, sure."
Ron gave him sideways glances as they crossed the lawn, which didn't help, because then it just made Harry think of how Draco had been looking at him out of the corner of his eye. How Draco had seemed almost fearful. How his heart was still pounding and racing in his chest.
"Are you alright?" Ron asked.
"Yeah, yeah, fine," Harry said. "Why?"
"You seem happy."
Harry shrugged.
"It was a good walk."
Ron raised an eyebrow, but he was smiling.
"It's good. Good that you've found something that makes you happy. Even if it is slightly insane."
Harry paused. They had almost reached the steps now. Maybe he could confide in Ron, just a little. Not the whole truth, but just enough. He couldn't keep it all inside. He was desperate to tell someone. And who else but his best friend?
"There may be another person involved."
"Cho?" Ron grinned and slapped Harry's back, "good on you, mate."
Oh no. Oh no, no, no. He had forgotten about Cho completely. Was he cheating on here now? Had they ever been going out in the first place for him to cheat on her with?
"No, uh, not Cho," he said.
"Who?"
"It's a secret."
Harry."
"Race you to the common room," Harry said, giving Ron's shoulder a whack as he raced up the stairs of the entrance hall.
"Come back here, Harry!"
But he had evaded the question, he told himself, as he took the stairs three at a time. He even let Ron win, pretending to be held up as the fourth-floor staircase moved.
When he entered the Common Room, however, he was faced to face with Hermione. She looked like a mother waiting for her children to get home.
"What's this Ron tells me about a girl?"
Oh, they didn't even know – how was Harry going to tell them it was a boy? Was he gay? He didn't remember a spark of realisation. He hadn't registered it. He guessed he was. He had kissed a boy because he wanted to and he had kissed that boy again and wanted to do it again.
"There's no girl."
"I just wish you'd stop lying to us, Harry," Hermione sighed. She seemed on the verge of tears. Ron lingered behind her, his pale face like a ghost's in the dark of the common room.
"It's not a lie," Harry said. He felt oddly detached from all of this, "I was with someone else. Not a girl."
Hermione stared at him for a long moment. All of a sudden, she gave a half-gasp, half-sob, and tackled Harry in a tight hug. He was buried by her mess of hair, which was good, because he didn't think he could look either of them in the eye.
"Oh, Harry, you should have told us! You shouldn't have worried – of course we still love you. We'll always love you, no matter what!"
Even if the boy he kissed was Draco Malfoy?
"Thanks," Harry muttered. He hugged her back, feeling as though his arms were much too gangly and awkward.
"It's not like we've been weird about Seamus and Dean, is it?" Ron said, he clapped Harry on the shoulder and Hermione drew them both into a suffocating group hug.
"Did everyone know about that?" Harry asked. He was trying to diffuse some of the awkwardness he felt. He hadn't really planned to 'come out.' He hadn't even really thought about it. It was like he had been living in a cupboard for so long that he had just kind of fell out. He didn't feel any different and he didn't really think of himself as gay. He just liked a boy and that was that. He hadn't even really realised he liked Draco until that moment in the fireplace. So, he guessed he was. But the 'no matter what,' sounded like a 'despite.' He didn't want a 'despite.' He wanted a 'you expect anything to change?' Because nothing really had, for him.
But they were trying. And they were accepting. Even if it wasn't quite what he wanted to get off of his chest, they were accepting him.
"Come on," Hermione said, slipping their hands together and tugging him towards the fireplace, "I still have some gingerbread left over from Christmas."
"I thought you'd save that for the house elves," Ron said.
"It was certainly a possibility, but this is more important."
"I'm glad that I'm more important than house elves," Harry muttered, collapsing into one of the armchairs. Hermione darted upstairs, leaving Harry and Ron to stew in somewhat awkward silence.
"You know, um," Ron said. "Fred and George thought that I was," he left a long blank for the word. "They saw Scabbers on the marauders map."
"Oh?" Harry raised his eyebrows to feign interest.
"Yeah."
The awkward silence stretched on. Harry wondered if the word 'gay' was really like 'Voldemort.'
Hermione reappeared after what seemed like an age. She flounced into an armchair and offered a large chunk of the gingerbread to Harry.
"So, who's the lucky guy?"
Harry pretended to be very interested in where to bite his gingerbread next. He panicked to think of a lie and shrugged instead.
"Is it someone we know?" Hermione pressed.
Harry shrugged again.
"Bloody hell, Hermione, give him a break!" Ron said, "it's been a long day."
Harry gave him a shaky smile by way of thanks. It had been a long day, he thought to himself as he bit into the gingerbread. His stomach still felt as though it was full of butterflies and he felt giddy. He kept replaying the kiss in his mind.
Hermione and Ron's argument turned into a discussion about school, and Harry was able to join in. For a few hours, everything felt back to normal. He was at Hogwarts with his best friends and he was feeling happy. Everything was as it should be.
"I'm gay!"
Harry hadn't meant to yell it so loudly. He had taken Cho to one side after the DA meeting, and had tried to explain it to her, but she hadn't listened. She just frowned at him when he said 'I kind of like someone else,' and then said something about Cedric and suddenly she was crying and asking 'why she wasn't good enough for him now? Was it because Cedric had gone?' So, he had said it. He sort of screamed it, actually.
"Um, I'm – gay," the word still felt strange on Harry's tongue.
"Are you serious?" Cho demanded.
"No, he's my Godfather," Harry said. He was trying to make light of the conversation, but Cho's face was bright red and she looked as though she was about to hex him.
"If you didn't want to date me, you could have just told me!"
"It's not like that, I swear," Harry tried to explain, but Cho was becoming hysterical and people were starting to stare.
"If you're gay, then why did you agree to go on a date with me?"
"It's kind of a recent development," Harry scratched the back of his neck. "It surprised me too."
She gave him a final, tear-stained and furious glare, before she turned and stormed from the Room of Requirement. He heard a few snickers and decided to bury his head in his bag.
"Flying really cleared your head, huh?"
A voice, thankfully a friendly one, came from somewhere above him.
"Ginny," he said, needlessly, as he glanced up and met her eye. "Yeah, I, uh, guess it did."
"Did you fix the lock behind you?" she asked. She gently touched his arm to get him to start walking.
"I think," Harry said. He wasn't sure. He hoped Draco would cover his back.
Ginny raised an eyebrow and held the door open for him.
"Someone else helped you clear that oh-so special head, huh?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"Considering you came back gay, yeah."
"I mean, I've never actually dated a girl, and I only kissed Cho once. But it didn't really count, so I guess I always was."
"Wish I could kiss a girl," Ginny murmured it under her breath and Harry blinked at her.
"What?"
"What?" her warm brown eyes twinkled with amusement.
"You're…" Harry trailed off, staring at her.
"Is it not obvious?" Ginny asked, a laugh bubbling from her lips.
"I didn't know," Harry said. "I should know, right? I mean, you're my best friend's sister."
"I would hope I'm one of your friends before that, Harry."
"Of course. You are."
Ginny didn't look convinced.
"Well," she shrugged, though he could still see a flicker of hurt behind her eyes, "now you know."
Harry paused.
"How – how do you know? That you're – like – definitively?"
"I think that's a shit word," Ginny said. "Nothing else in our lives is definitive. Why should which gender of person we choose as our romantic partners be?"
She had a light in her eyes when she said it, the kind of gleam she got when she was challenging someone to a duel. Harry didn't question her, though he still full of questions. It was as though he had joined some new, strange club and he wasn't even sure if he was allowed to be there.
"Okay, but, um, how do you know?"
"If you're attracted to a guy, you're attracted to a guy. It's really as simple as that."
"So, you're attracted to a girl?"
"That's what being a lesbian entails, yes."
"Who?"
"I didn't ask you who you're attracted to," Ginny snapped, her face turning bright pink. "Though it's obvious."
"How is it obvious?" Harry's heart juddered. If one person could figure it out, everyone could figure it out.
"You've been trading glares with a certain someone ever since I came to Hogwarts," Ginny sniffed, though her cheeks were still rosy. "Sometimes I don't know whether you're going to punch each other or snog each other. I'm guessing Hermione and the dear brother of mine wouldn't approve?"
"You know they wouldn't."
"I'll keep your secret, Harry," Ginny said. "If you tell me how you both managed to figure out the other was interested."
"Is this to do with the girl your attracted to?"
"Perhaps. I'm thinking that even if someone as ignorant as you could land a boy, you must have some trick up your sleeve."
"Well, I am the chosen one," Harry said.
Ginny rolled her eyes and game him a friendly shove with her shoulder.
Ron caught up with them then, sliding his arms over both of their shoulders and grinning between them like he was from The Shining. Ginny made a quick snip and just like that it was as if the conversation never happened.
The days had passed in ablur, Harry thought, and he had scarcely seen Draco since the kiss. It had only been stolen glances in corridors, and even then Harry had to glance away quickly because his face burned. Ginny was right, it really was obvious. He was amazed how Ron and Hermione hadn't figured it out yet.
It had been their idea to call the DA meeting, because it was the weekend and everyone needed to relax. Hermione also told Harry that it was the right thing to do, now that he didn't want to date Cho and all that. He shouldn't prolong it, but she also hadn't told him what to say, which had lead to the disaster of the scene that had just occurred.
They headed back to the Common Room, though something was tight in Ron's voice. He had been different lately. He acted as though Harry was a bomb that was about to go off, which Harry supposed was him showing that he cared, in Ron's own way. He offered a game of Wizard's Chess before they headed to bed, because the DA always left them on a giddy high and it was better to sit downstairs and bounce off of each other than lie in bed for hours on end.
Harry's adrenaline high crashed halfway through the first game, around when Ron had taken both of his knights and a handful of pawns. He knew he was not going to win this and started to be needlessly reckless with the tiny men. His set was getting battered from the ruthless reign of Ron Weasley.
But Ron was smiling, which Harry hadn't seen in a while. With all the stress over Christmas, and having to goal for the Quidditch team, he was sure Ron was suffering. Not that they ever talked about stuff like that – not even Hermione admitted when she felt stressed. It was just nice to relax for a little, and pretend that everything was normal.
Only everything wasn't normal, Harry was reminded, as he slipped down the stairs Sunday evening. He had been able to leave his invisibility cloak behind, since Ron and Hermione knew he was headed to his secret occlumency lesson. There had been a weary look behind their eyes, but they had smiled and wished him good luck as he left. He supposed coming out of the closet did have its uses.
He would tell them, he told himself, when they were ready. He wondered if they'd ever be able to be public, then realised he was only half thinking about the occlumency lessons.
No, he doubted the school would be willing to accept Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy as dating. If that was what this was, though Harry had to admit it was hardly a romantic date.
He felt a firm grip on his arm as he made his way out of the doors and down the stairs. He recognised the long, bony fingers, and as he was pushed against the wall, found himself grinning like an idiot at the face of Draco Malfoy.
"Potter," he greeted, before suddenly he was kissing Harry and their teeth were knocking against eachother's. "Did you have to take so long?"
"It's good to see you too," Harry murmured, still a little dazed from the oddly affectionate greeting.
"Don't give me that stupid grin," Draco said, his hand still clutching Harry's wrist as they started around the huge bulk of the castle. "I'm angry at you."
"What have I done?"
"For one thing, you left me alone in a broom closet." Draco said. "Then I don't hear anything from you. You could have sent an owl, or something."
"You could have sent an owl too."
Draco snorted.
"Don't be stupid. I don't want to look desperate."
There was a small alcove in the stone, and whilst Harry was trying to decode what Draco had just said, he pulled a broom from it.
"We're using this today, by the way," he said, summoning it up to float and swinging himself carelessly onto it. "I don't want another instance where we have to walk home."
Harry glanced at the Nimbus 2001 floating in front of him. Draco was watching him with a half-smile on his face, with one eyebrow raised ever so slightly. He had deliberately taken up as much space as possible so that Harry would have to squeeze onto the end, no doubt pressing up against Draco.
Oh no. That couldn't happen.
"Malfoy, you know I've been banned from flying?" he asked, slowly. "Considering that I never get to fly anymore, maybe I should-"
"You. Are. Not. Flying. My. Broom." Draco said, then he tilted his chin as his smirk widened. "Anyway, you can break into that broom closet anytime you like. Now come on, I haven't got all night."
Harry glared at Draco, which only earnt a wider smile, before he sucked up his pride and got on the back of the broom. He was right, to avoid sitting on the tail, he had to shuffle right up against Draco so that their hips touched as Draco urged the broom upwards. He bit his cheek as he wrapped his arms around Draco.
"It's not fun, is it?" Draco's voice called to him.
"Shut up, Malfoy."
There was a bark of laughter, but for some reason it put a smile on Harry's face. He felt absurdly at ease. Draco was warm against the January air, and it wasn't completely uncomfortable to be spooning him like this.
Harry closed his eyes, resting his cheek against Malfoy's back and listening to the rush of the wind in his ears. He had never flown on the back of a broomstick before. There was a certain peace to it, not having to look where he was going, or worry about his speed. It didn't have the excitement of Quidditch, but another chill was running through his chest.
The world was a mess of indigo, purples and blacks, like a Van Gogh painting. He half expected swirls to appear in the night sky, mingling with the tiny lights of Hogsmeade as they flew over the village. It looked like an oasis, a small collection of warm stoves in the middle of a bitter wasteland of war. Voldemort seemed very far away and Hogsmede seemed untouchable.
They touched down. Harry unpeeled himself from Draco and avoided looking at the amused come triumphant grin appearing on the Slytherin's face.
"Aw, it was like having a Princess on the back of my broom," he said, tucking the broomstick under his arm.
"I thought I told you to shut up," Harry's heart came back, violently trying to escape from his chest. Trust Malfoy to ruin a nice moment.
He stomped down the alleyway, trying to decide if he really did fancy Malfoy or just hated him, when Malfoy took hold of his wrist.
"Hey," Malfoy said, his voice low and gentle as he tugged Harry back round to face him. "C'mere."
Harry tried to keep his frown on as Malfoy kissed his forehead, his lips buried in the hair. His mouth rebelled against him.
"What was that for?" Harry asked.
"For being the grumpy sod you always are."
Draco's fingers slipped down his wrist and Harry found his own fingers linking against them before he was even aware of it. It was like they had practised the movement.
"You're not wearing my glove," Draco said as they emerged onto the street the Hog's Head squatted on.
"I'm not," Harry said, just as shocked. "But the cuts have mostly healed over now."
"Try not to get any detentions now."
"But then who will patch me up?" Harry asked, and couldn't help a grin stretch across his face as he saw a line of pink cross Draco's cheeks.
"Patch yourself up," Draco muttered.
They drew up their hoods as they entered the Hog's Head, but it was pointless. The old pub was so crowded, it was unlikely they would be spotted. They could scarcely move for the throng of people, all gossiping loudly to each other. There seemed to be a sighting of Voldemort and the pub-goers were loudly battling out whether it was true or not.
In the ruckus, they managed to get to the fireplace and floo powder their way to Malfoy Manor without so much as a batted eyelid. Though the grate was even more full now that Draco was carrying his broom with him.
When they both pushed out of the grate at the manor, they found the floor covered with an old bedsheet. It had a large ink mark in the middle of it, and several dark stains.
Narcissa was sitting quite calmly in an armchair, watching them as though it was completely normal for two fifteen-year olds to fall out of her fireplace.
"I didn't want another mess," she said. "Not with your father here."
"Father's…" Draco trailed off, his eyes wide. Harry had thought he had never seen Draco scared before, but that was often the expression he wore when Lucius was around. There was a tightness to his mouth and hands, as though he was a puppet on a string.
"It's a Sunday," Narcissa said. "Even he still returns for a Sunday goose."
"You have a goose every Sunday at home?" Harry asked Draco before he had thought it through. There was something different about the manor today. Warmer. Maybe it was because he felt he knew Narcissa now.
"You don't?" one of Draco's eyebrows rose so far, Harry was worried it would disappear. But some of the tightness was gone, so it was worth the admission.
"I mean, the Dursley's had a roast dinner, but I usually just had whatever leftovers were in the fridge."
"I thought they were family," Draco frowned.
"Not willingly."
"Can you continue this discussion later?" Narcissa's voice cut across them like a shard of glass. "This is now a dangerous operation."
Nevertheless, she stood and crossed the room to give Draco a quick hug. She held his arms as she continued.
"Your father is in his study, and should hopefully stay there till late. The safest place for you to go is your room, he'd never go there. Keep your ears out, bien-amié."
"I can't stay?" Draco said, and there was only the slightest trace of desperation in his voice as he asked. His hands only tightened slightly on his mother's arms.
Narcissa's mouth twitched as she glanced at Harry.
"Not unless you want to risk getting accidentally jinxed."
Draco gave a short, sharp sigh from his nose.
"I guess I'll see you in a few hours," he said, giving Harry a final glance before he left the room.
"I will try not to tire him out too much," Narcissa said, with a knowing glint in her eye.
Harry's face burned as she turned back to him. He couldn't even ask her if she knew. Of course, she did, but the confirmation was too awkward. The house elf had probably told her, if she hadn't guessed it from Harry's mind. He was sure she hadn't been poking around, but, well, he wasn't very good at that sort of thing.
"Have you been practising, Mr Potter?" she asked. The tightness was in her mouth too. He could tell she wanted to stay with Draco, instead of risking her life over him. It just wasn't fair.
"I've been trying to," he admitted. "I've had a lot on my mind, though."
"Whenever you need to shield your mind, you will have a lot on it," Narcissa said. "We will do the lesson here."
"I really don't think my shoes are that dirty."
Narcissa surprised him by giving a twinkling laugh.
"It's not your shoes," she said, "you're not going to be sat down when you practice with Severus. You should get used to it."
He wanted to roll his eyes and mutter 'great,' because he was sure he had only done so well last time because he had been sat down. But you didn't roll your eyes at Draco's mother. She would probably curse him into never being able to sit down again.
"Okay," he said. "I'm ready."
