***

See disclaimer in Chapter 1. They aren't mine.

***

Aug. 24

"Nothing's going to be different when you get back, you know."

Harry jumped at the sound of Draco's voice, pulled from his introspection by the blond's words. They'd barely spoken at all since their impromptu Seeker's game a few days ago. Draco didn't know what had caused the dark-haired man's sudden withdrawal, but he had a feeling it had to do with Ginny Weasley. He'd let him sulk in silence for days, but he couldn't stand it anymore. He wanted Harry to talk to him, even if it was just to yell. The vibrant man that had come out of his shell in the last few weeks was gone, leaving the depressed, quiet husk of a wizard Harry had been when they'd gotten to the island.

"She'll still be there. I wouldn't be surprised if she's still in your flat, expecting you to do the honorable thing and move yourself. You need to come to terms with this before we get back or she'll walk all over you again."

Harry turned, his face flushed with what Draco assumed was anger. It was a welcome change from the blank expression he'd worn lately, though, so Draco threw caution to the wind and kept prodding at him, hoping for an explosion. There were obviously things on Harry's mind that needed to come out into the open, and if he ended up hating Draco for making him say them, then so be it.

"She's going to take you for everything she can, and you're going to let her. Noble, perfect Harry Potter. She had you pegged from the beginning, didn't she?"

Harry snarled, upsetting his chair as he stood, his wand in his hand before he could even think. Draco stood his ground, looking the enraged man in the eye even as he held a wand on him with a trembling hand.

"Shut up, Malfoy. You don't know anything about it."

"Of course I do," Draco said, sneering at him to hide his fear. He didn't think Harry would actually hurt him, but his behavior had been so erratic over the last few days that anything was possible. "You told me all about it, remember? Two young Gryffindors hopelessly in love, unable to hold it together when things got tough. Tell me, Harry, were you sleeping around, too, or was it just her?"

Harry's wand hand shook harder, but he kept it trained on Draco. Part of him registered that the blond hadn't drawn his own wand, but he was too angry to lower his own.

"Things were bad between us long before she started having affairs. My Auror training and her Quidditch schedule it made it hard early on, and then by the time she retired from the Harpies we'd already started to grow apart," Harry said, his voice hoarse with emotion.

"I've never slept with anyone else, but I've been unfaithful where it matters. I deserve everything she dishes out. I'll give her the flat if she wants it, and anything else, too. And you'll stay out of it, Malfoy," he said, infusing the name with as much hatred and scorn as he did when they used to fight in school. Everything was Draco's fault.

He'd been happy with his life before he ran into Draco at the Ministry ball, happily planning to marry Ginny and have a family and never indulging in his sick desires. But that had changed, hadn't it? He'd given in, and now nothing was going to ever be the same again.

"Get over yourself, Potter," Draco snapped, taking a step forward.

Harry's hand shook violently, his eyes filled with tears as he watched the other man approach. He wanted to hex him so badly; every cell in his body was crying out to make Draco feel the kind of pain he was feeling. It was all his fault. Harry felt strangely detached from the situation, as though he was watching through someone else's eyes. He saw Draco wrap his hand around his own, forcing him to lower the wand. He kept a tight grip on it but allowed Draco to maneuver it so it pointed at the floor instead. His tears were falling freely now, and if he'd been able to see through the haze of them he'd know that Draco was pale and shaken, near tears himself.

"Harry," Draco said quietly, and something inside Harry broke, shattering into a thousand tiny pieces that could never be put back together again. He sagged against Draco, his wand clattering against the floor and rolling away, unnoticed by either of them. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's shaking body, tucking him as close to his body as he could and holding tightly, unsure of what he should do but knowing he had to do something.

Harry didn't know how long he stood there in Draco's arms, but eventually he realized what he'd been on the verge of doing. He pushed Draco away, his face a mask of horror as he remembered how close he'd come to hexing the other man.

"Fuck, Draco! I could have killed you! What the hell were you doing, walking up to someone who had his wand drawn?"

Draco grinned, the crushing feeling of worry and sadness in his chest easing a bit. He knew how to deal with this Harry.

"You wouldn't have hexed me," he said dismissively, making no move to wrap his arms around Harry again, though he wanted to. "You're too Gryffindor."

Harry snorted, Summoning his wand from the floor and tucking it back into his holster.

"Shows how much you know," he said, collapsing into a chair. Draco stooped to right the one Harry had knocked over earlier, easing himself into it.

"There's a world of things I don't know," Draco said with a self-deprecating grin. "So enlighten me."

Harry couldn't help himself; he smiled despite the maelstrom of emotions that were threatening to send him back into a tailspin. Being with Draco was just so easy, even when he didn't want it to be. He was tempted to distract the blond with the story of Harry Potter, the almost-Slytherin, but he doubted even that would make Draco forget what they'd been talking about.

Harry fiddled with a loose string on his trousers, studiously avoiding eye contact with Draco. He'd avoided him for days for just exactly this reason, but Draco was right – there was no point in hiding from the truth anymore, especially since the truth was likely waiting for him back at home, laid out in a special Daily Prophet exclusive all about the Boy Who Lived to Be Gay.

"Everything changed between me and Ginny when I admitted something to her about myself that I'd known for a very long time but ignored," he said, fighting the urge to stand and pace. Draco wanted the truth, and he was going to get it. Most of it, at any rate.

He drew a breath, forcing the words past his lips. They were so quiet that Draco had to strain to hear.

"I'm attracted to men."

Harry pushed his tongue against his teeth, forcing himself to stop talking. He needed to know if Draco wanted him to continue. Surely this revelation was far worse than anything the blond could have dreamed up, Harry figured, and he wasn't about to unload it on him if he didn't want him to. He'd had to live with his unnaturalness for years, so he knew what a burden the knowledge was. Hell, it had been the death knell with Ginny – she hadn't been able to touch him since she forced him to confess.

Draco, for his part, was desperately trying to keep his face neutral. Harry had just dropped a very unexpected bit of news, and it took all of his self-control not to visibly react. After the lengthy pause he could tell that Harry was waiting for a response, so he chose the most innocuous one he could think of.

"And?"

Harry nearly choked.

"And?" It wasn't enough that he was admitting something so shameful that not one but two worlds thought it was an abomination? The Muggle and magical worlds agreed on precious few things, but he knew both condemned men like him who found other men attractive. "It's shameful. It's wrong. It's –"

Draco watched horror and embarrassment flit across Harry's face, but he was also sure he could see a hint of relief at finally getting this huge secret off his chest. He could only imagine how Ginny had reacted to Harry's confession, and the thought made his insides clench. He had a feeling who convinced Harry his attraction to men was unnatural, and it wasn't just the sad sack of shite who had raised him.

"Oh, Harry," he said, the emotions swirling inside him nearly making him lose his head. He ached to cover Harry's hand with his own on the table, but he knew the contact would definitely not be welcome. "Harry, there's nothing wrong with being attracted to men. I don't know what it's like in the Muggle world, of course, but in our world no one cares."

Harry gaped at Draco, wondering if it was possible he could be hearing the other man correctly.

"Plenty of people, men and women, in our world are gay. It's not shameful, and it's not wrong. It's perfectly acceptable."

"It's not," Harry said, the shock of Draco's easy acceptance of his words wearing off.

Draco studied him for a moment, wondering if it was time for a confession of his own. He'd thought Harry knew, but he it didn't seem like he did.

"Harry," Draco said, making sure his attention was focused on him. "Harry, I'm bisexual. Trust me when I say being attracted to the same sex is accepted at all levels of wizarding society."

***

Harry lay in bed, yet again watching the fan move in lieu of sleeping. He and Draco had talked about homosexuality in the wizarding world for hours, and though he wasn't positive Draco's view was more common than Ginny's, it had given him a lot to think about. He knew his Uncle Vernon's belief that queers were all headed straight to hell was a controversial one, but he'd never had any reason to doubt Ginny's words before.

He shifted slightly, stretching to remove a crick in his neck. He'd carefully avoided all thoughts of Draco's casual allusion to the fact that he was also attracted to men. They hadn't broached it after the blond's initial admission, since he'd seemed more interested in making sure Harry understood the laws that gave witches and wizards of all sexual orientations the same rights – including the right to marry, which had absolutely floored Harry. He'd figured Ginny was his only chance to marry and have a family, but from what Draco told him that wasn't the case. While no potion or spell could impregnate a man (or help a woman impregnate another woman), it was a common-enough occurrence for same-sex couples to use a surrogate or adopt.

Harry moved restlessly, wondering if he should just abandon all pretense of sleep and go for a walk. He was still reeling from the fact that Draco hadn't been the slightest bit shocked or disgusted by his revelation. The fact that Draco could be so casual about his own attraction to men had done more for Harry than any of the other things he'd told him. Even if Draco was lying about it being accepted in their world, at least Harry knew he wasn't alone anymore.

Bisexual. Harry turned the word over and over in his head, relieved at the implication that a person could be attracted to both sexes. It meant what he'd had with Ginny – at least in the beginning, when he'd truly loved her – hadn't all been fake. On his part, at least. Harry rolled to his side and punched at the pillow, fluffing the feathers where they'd become matted. He didn't want to believe that he was capable of cruelty, and wouldn't it have been cruel to lead Ginny on if he'd never been interested in her at all?

He sighed, his gaze drifting back to the fan. He was going to have to go back to the real world soon, and that meant confronting Ginny about a whole host of things. He still felt like he was the guilty party in their split; after all, he'd kissed another man. He could hardly have expected her to marry him after he'd confessed to that, he realized in hindsight. He'd just been so desperate to put that behind him, to pretend it hadn't happened, that he'd been willing to do whatever it took to make things right with her.

They hadn't had sex in more than a year, but he still remembered how well their bodies fit together, and how she seemed to know every inch of his body. Still, he'd never felt anything close to the electric thrill he'd gotten from the kiss he and Draco had shared in cloakroom or even the accidental brush of Draco's lips against his neck a few days ago.

He flopped onto his back again, uncomfortable in every sense of the word. He didn't feel like he knew the person who was living in his skin anymore, and it was making him restless and itchy. He threw back the covers, not bothering to grab his trousers or shirt as he slipped out of his room, padding silently down the corridor.

He rounded the corner into the sitting room cautiously, half expecting Draco to be awake. But the blond was sleeping, his blankets in disarray on the Transfigured bed, a sign of a restless night. Harry wondered if he was to blame for the way Draco's face was twisted into a grimace. He hoped he hadn't brought up bad memories for him, though he knew it was likely. Draco had been blasé about how his parents had handled his admission that he was bisexual, but Harry doubted that was the whole story. Perhaps there had been more at play than Draco's view on blood politics when his father had all but disowned him.

Harry leaned against the wall, content to just watch Draco sleep. Even though it was obvious he wasn't resting peacefully, the blond was indescribably beautiful. He was barely illuminated in the dark room, but there was enough moonlight for Harry to make out his features, from his strong jaw line to his full lips to his prominent cheekbones. A fringe of white-blond hair fell over his forehead, and Harry had an insane urge to sweep it away so he could see the rest of his face. He'd never let himself study another man like this before, and it felt strangely invigorating. He knew if he gave in to temptation and ran his fingers along Draco's jaw it would be rough with stubble, just like his own. He already knew what his bare chest would feel like, smooth and muscular without even a hint of coarse hair. His gaze dropped to the blanket slung over Draco's hips, his cheeks flushing as he imagined what it would be like to actually touch another man. Would wrapping his hand around Draco's cock feel like wrapping his hand around his own?

Harry snuck back out of the room, his mind buzzing with questions. Now that he'd taken the final step – admitting to himself that he was attracted to men and wanted to pursue that attraction – it was as though a barrier had been removed; his mind was flooded with thoughts and questions. He gave the bed a longing glance as he entered the room, but he knew any efforts to sleep would be futile. He was too keyed up for sleep. Part of him that had been locked away for years was free, and it was exhilarating to know he'd never have to lock it up again. Even if Draco was lying about how his news would be received in the wizarding world, Harry knew he could never go back to pretending that part of him didn't exist.

He grabbed a pair of running shorts from the floor, slipping into them quietly. He hadn't set his Silencing Charm yet tonight, and he didn't want to wake Draco. Maybe he could work off some of this nervous energy by going for a run.

***

Draco was waiting for him when he got back to the cottage just before dawn. He hadn't thought to leave the other man a note, and the blond had been nearly frantic with worry at waking to find the house empty in the middle of the night. They'd both gone back to their beds exhausted after he returned, and Harry hadn't resurfaced until lunchtime.

He found Draco sitting on the beach underneath an umbrella he'd dragged from the shed. He Levitated the tray of lemonade and sandwiches he'd made onto the small table next to him, grinning when the blond jumped in surprise to see him there.

"Morning," Harry said, not sure how to address Draco after their conversation the day before. He felt closer to him but also more unsure of him, and he didn't know what to do about it.

"More like afternoon," Draco said, taking the proffered glass of lemonade. He held the cool glass up to his forehead, letting the condensation run down his face. Harry watched the droplets of water, wondering what it would be like to trace them with his tongue.

"Finally get some sleep?" Draco asked, taking a drink of his lemonade and setting it back on the tray.

Harry blinked, forcing himself to focus. He'd made a few decisions during his late-night run, and it was time to act on them. He was far from self-confident, but he'd realized that he needed to start putting himself first, taking care of the things he wanted to do instead of doing what everyone else wanted him to do.

"A bit," Harry said, biting his lip in his nervousness. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

Draco looked up, curious as to what would make Harry sound so hesitant. After everything they'd been through yesterday, what could he possibly have to say that would cause him to look so terrified?

"I've been wanting to do something, but I didn't want to ask you because I didn't know how you'd react," Harry said, fidgeting restlessly. "And you can say no. Merlin, of course you'll say no. But I won't know until I ask, will I? I promised myself I'd stop letting my past dictate my future, and part of that is learning to ask for what I want."

Draco swallowed, his throat going dry at the look on Harry's face. What on earth would cause this sort of anxiety? He already knew Harry's deepest, darkest secrets, didn't he? Draco felt his pulse jump, and he wondered if Harry was about to ask him to give him pointers about being with a man. Or Merlin, even ask him to experiment with him. He was instantly hard, grateful for the book he'd folded into his lap when Harry joined him on the beach. He was sure it was just his overactive libido talking, but what if Harry did want to take advantage of their seclusion on the island to learn more about sex with a man?

"It's just not something I've ever really properly gotten the chance to do, you know? I mean, there was a lot of it that year Ron and Hermione and I spent on the run, but it's hardly the same, yeah?"

Draco was completely lost now. Harry and Ron hadn't – had they?

"So I guess I should just ask," Harry said, laughing at himself a bit when he realized how convoluted he sounded. "Draco, do you want to go camping with me again?"

TBC