Chapter Ten: The Appealing Lives
Harry had begun reading the book on homosexuality the very night Draco loaned it to him, though it was initially only out of shy curiosity that he'd turned to the first page. Over the following days, however, he was so drawn that he could not rest it down.
The book was really an imitated journal of sorts, starting with simple descriptions of the narrator's "curiously homosexual" life. The journal was not for the specific defense of homosexuality, for Ulrichs had already completed several volumes dedicated to such a topic. (1) Instead, the narrator declared that, by writing about his life, he wished to make homosexual men realize that they lived the most appealing lives of humanity – more appealing that the luxurious, powerful, and privileged, even – because of their sexuality.
Homosexuals should be honored that they were part of such a privileged world – a world that Greek Gods, Roman Emperors, and Japanese Shoguns were traditionally a part of. The narrator insisted that homosexuality was an ancient art found in nature, starting from the very first days of human existence – an antique sport men shared. Once, the persona even daringly claimed that heterosexuals declared homosexuality a mental illness because they were subconsciously enraged that they were left out of this sport – enraged than their preferences had duties such as marriage, penalties such as unwanted children, and little happiness. They shunned homosexuality, for they feared the heavy influence it had on society in the past – feared that it would hold a heavy influence once again in the future.
As Harry read on, it became more and more evident why he'd never discovered the book before: it was obviously censured in England, and perhaps many other European countries. It had to be so – for several times, the book was completely socially inappropriate. For example, the narrator often went into embarrassingly graphic details of proof that homosexuals lived appealing lives. He described his longing for historical figures such as Francesco Boneri for his particular figure in the painting Amor Vincit Omnia. (2) A good page and a half was dedicated to his desires of Il Moro, featured in numerous popular photographs. (3)
Because of the cleverly chosen words and profound descriptions, Harry couldn't help but feel that he was persuaded into sharing these wants and desires. It was an addictive feeling, something that was not completely foreign to him – yet something that he had never felt quite so intensely. He began to see all men in a new light: the way they spoke, walked, gestured, stood; their features such as the clothes they wore and their countenance… it all began to matter greatly, much more than it ever had for Harry. Sighting an attractive man seemed to go further as he imagined the graphic scenes presented in the book. Harry was mortified to find that even Ron didn't escape this new state – and if he felt this towards Ron, then Draco Malfoy was unquestionably included in his new revelation as well. With this awakening of sorts, he felt ashamed and embarrassed – and, initially, he funneled this uneasiness into anger towards Draco.
Harry felt that Draco meant to confuse him or, perhaps, meant to have a laugh at Harry's awkwardness. (After all, the man had to know that the book would make Harry feel uncomfortable.) By the time he reached the final chapters, he came to the ridiculous theory that Draco truly meant to upset the little comfort Harry had with his nature, for the narrator began to insist that, in order to rightly live an appealing homosexual life, the reader – Harry, that is – needed to be act on his feelings.
"I only meant for you to learn more about desire," Draco said, indifferent towards Harry's distress, "and to spark your curiosity."
"I wish you hadn't taken it upon yourself," Harry muttered as he extended the book to Draco. He couldn't quite look the man in the eye.
Draco grasped the book carefully, as though afraid that the binding would come apart. "I take it, then, that you didn't enjoy it?"
"It had several insightful moments," Harry admitted. "It was just rather… uncomfortable at times."
"I suppose this means you weren't convinced that your nature is appealing." When Harry didn't respond, Draco nearly sighed in exasperation. "I'm starting to believe, Mr. Potter, that you simply don't ever want to participate in the world of homosexuality."
"Oh?" Harry's tone became stiff. "How is that, sir?"
"This," Draco gestured to the book he held in his hands, "is a book of masterful persuasion. It's the very book that convinced me and many other men to appreciate our kind – to become involved, as you would say. How is it, then, that this book has managed to make you uncomfortable rather than passionate?"
Harry frowned. "Was that the result you were hoping for when you handed this to me? You were hoping for me to be eager?"
At this, Draco was clearly impatient. "No, not eager necessarily – but interested, at the very least."
"Perhaps I'm simply not as inclined," Harry said smoothly as he looked away from Draco. He was embarrassed with the thought of admitting that he had indeed gained this new so-called interest.
"Or perhaps you're simply too stubborn," Draco said, annoyed. "You insist on remaining innocent – ignorant."
"It's a difficult change," Harry's tone rose in frustration. "I've been taught that homosexuality is a crime – "
"As have all other homosexual men of this society. As have I. Why is it then, Mr. Potter, that you and I have two opposing views? That I relish in my sexuality and you – well, fear it?"
"I'm not afraid," Harry said firmly. "I – plan on eventually taking part, once I feel more comfortable."
"Yet you're such an impulsive and brash man," Draco drawled sarcastically. "I would think that you need only those qualities to start."
"You act as though you wished for me to arrive perfectly willing," Harry answered, almost angrily.
Draco stood suddenly, turning to place the book on one of the shelves; and as it slipped back into its unnoticeable position – an old book shadowed by volumes of classic and current literature – Draco stated, clearly incensed, "Perhaps it would be best, then, if you left."
Harry, clearly taken aback, looked at him as he turned again.
"Until you're eager and willing," Draco added mockingly, "I don't believe I wish to see you. Really, I once said it was endearing – but being with such a reserved man now is beginning to be an entirely irritating affair, especially as I've attempted to help you."
It took Harry a moment to realize that Draco was, indeed, rather serious. "Absolutely not," he said, somewhat affronted. "You can't merely decide to throw me out, Mr. Malfoy, I simply refuse to leave."
"You were never so bothersome!" Draco glared.
"Sir, you enjoy picking out my so-called flaws, but you ignore your own," Harry continued.
"That's simply because I have little flaws to pick," Draco said haughtily.
"Really," Harry was on the edge of derisive laughter. "Ever since you've learned my secret, you've been fixed between your time-honored allies and my friendship – "
"You can't honestly expect me to accept you in the presence of others."
"Don't interrupt me, sir, I wasn't quite finished. Further, you offer no explanation for your annoying pressures – as though it's my duty as a homosexual to be eager and willing. Frankly, you haven't helped me at all – that blasted book has made me more uncomfortable with the entire subject and with all men, including you."
At this, Draco took an air of practically pleasant surprise as he reclined into the back of his sofa. "Are you admitting to me, then, that the book did affect you?"
"Well," Harry pursed his lips almost sullenly. He wasn't quite ready to admit such a thing, and felt like a guilty child. He continued defensively, "Well, I couldn't help that it did, could I?"
"Why act as though this is a grim fact?" A small smile actually flitted across Draco's face. "It's something to be proud of, in fact – to be pleased with."
"It's not a grim fact so much," Harry mumbled, though his gaze was downcast.
"This at least means now that you're to ready for the next step, then."
"I believe you've misunderstood my interest for readiness, Mr. Malfoy."
At this, Draco smirked as he said, "Believe me, Mr. Potter, within at least the month, I guarantee that you'll be quite keen."
Once leaving Malfoy Mansion, it became clearer and clearer to Harry that he and Draco had a very… complex relationship of sorts. Draco had shared rare smiles and enlightening conversations with Harry; indeed, they were men who had made a habit of discussing topics many would often consider reserved for only the most intimate of relationships. At the very least, Harry thought, they were friendly acquaintances.
Still, they were friendly really only when they were alone. After Harry left the manor, Draco made it quite clear that, publicly, they were still rivaling adversaries – even after Harry confronted him for such actions. From Draco's everlasting sarcastic comments, derisive tone, and bored expressions, it was obvious that he did not or could not think of Harry as a particularly close friend; for it was, perhaps, his duty as a traditionalist to treat Harry atrociously. If the pair ever came across each other in a dinner party, club, or at a ball, Draco would barely look at him – and if he was ever forced to say something, it was a harshly cold and mocking statement.
Harry wasn't certain whether Draco was acting for the sake of safety or if he honestly felt that way towards Harry whenever they weren't alone. After all, as he'd learned in Cambridge, there were several studies proving the fact that men tended to act and think differently when surrounded by various groups of people. It was a possibility that, whenever Draco was in the company of his friends and allies, he shared their feelings towards Harry. Perhaps Draco was somehow reminded that the man was a peasant and the most-hated Self-Made Man amongst traditionalists. Yet, sometimes, Harry would find Draco waiting outside – ready to insist that they meet again. It was confusing, to say the least.
Nevertheless, it was undeniable that Harry could not avoid Draco. It was not merely because Draco insisted on their meeting again, but because he became part of Harry's every thought. Initially, Harry believed that his frequent thoughts of Draco were unexpected; however, he eventually realized that such a thing should have been predictable. After all, Draco was the one man he had confided in about his developing sexuality, the one man who had guided him to self-knowledge. Perhaps such attractions were entirely natural.
"Personally, I feel that you and Mr. Malfoy have a connection," Hermione said in her sitting room. Since she was rearranging the positions of lilies in a porcelain vase, she could not see the bewildered alarm that spread across Harry's face. "To me, it seems that you're almost doubles, or – or shadows of sorts, as a Jungian would say. (4) No offense, Harry, but I see both of you as similar in certain aspects: in stubbornness, for example, and the uncanny ability to find yourselves in angry situations. Perhaps you hate each other for that very reason," she turned with a teasing smile.
"If that's the case, then I could possibly learn more of myself from him," Harry said with a relieved grin, knowing that Hermione was oblivious to the amount of truth in the statement.
"Possibly – but Harry, in all seriousness, I hope that you're doing your best to avoid the man. To seek conflict now would be foolish."
"I'm content with this bout of peace," Harry said awkwardly. Under Hermione's sharp gaze, he shifted in his seat, as though afraid that she would somehow see that he had not avoided Draco – that he had sought the man's guidance. He felt that he would be disgraced if his friends learned the truth, and though he felt guilty for deceiving them, he did not want them to know. It was hard, keeping such an important influence a secret; but he knew that they wouldn't be able to understand.
"It's as I've said many times before, isn't it? Love isn't necessary," Draco insisted in an argumentative tone. "Only men of Romanticism would believe such a thing. I've rarely ever felt love for the men I have relations with. Lust, on the other hand…"
Harry shook his head. "Physical attraction simply isn't enough," he said firmly. "Lust alone can't make homosexuality appealing. It needs to be balanced by substance – by emotional connection and fulfillment."
Draco sneered as he sat back in his seat. "Does that mean, then, that you and I would never have anything more than a platonic relationship?"
Harry had difficulty figuring whether Draco's question was sarcastic or not; but in the end, he naturally assumed that Draco meant little seriousness, given the nature of the question. He answered, then, rather jokingly, "There's always a chance, I suppose, of a platonic relationship evolving. Really, though, can you honestly expect for such a thing to happen between us when our relationship is as complex as it is?"
"It's not that complex," Draco said dismissively.
"Of course it is. We're both close friends and worst enemies, in case you haven't noticed. We can't be involved privately and enemies publicly – that would simply be too much, you understand. I believe you would have to openly accept our friendship. Friends publicly, involved privately – that's much easier to grasp."
"Well, as a friend – that could easily be arranged," Draco smirked, "as long as you're willing to return the sentiment. I believe that, once I've accepted you in front of open company, you ought to overcome your own embarrassment and accept me in front of your friends."
Harry felt a twinge of guilt; he hadn't realized Draco noticed his shame at their friendship. Nevertheless, he ignored this, smirked, and shook his head as he added to their mock-serious discussion. "They might as well already know, I suppose."
Of course, Harry had only thought this to be an ironic conversation and hadn't thought of it by the end of the night; by the end of the week, it was as though the conversation had never existed. Over the following days, he received letters from Draco inviting him to his home – perhaps for more entertaining conversations, or merely to relax together in each other's company. Harry, however, had recently discovered that he'd been spending more time with Draco Malfoy than with his own best friends, and decided to instead be with them at the Granger Mansion or in the Weasley House in London.
By the end of the month, Draco's letters had piled so high that Harry finally decided to answer, agreeing to come for dinner the following evening. He expected that it would only be the two of them, so he most certainly didn't dress in his best suit; he hadn't bothered to comb his wild hair as well as he could have either. He brought along an interesting book that he wanted to share with the man, and figured that, during the pleasant, comfortable evening, they could discuss it in detail.
When he arrived, Draco opened the door and eyed him.
"Did you just fall out of bed, Mr. Potter?"
"Good evening to you too, Mr. Malfoy," Harry smiled as he handed the man a book.
"What's this?"
"I thought you might enjoy it."
Draco nodded in acknowledgement, but he wasn't looking at the book; his gaze was still fixed on Harry. "Come, at the very least, let's fix you hair."
Harry was confused as Draco pulled him inside, closing the door behind him, and ran his hands through Harry's hair, attempting to comb it back. "That'll never work."
"Unfortunately, it seems you're right."
"Why is my appearance so important?" Harry asked impatiently as Draco continued to struggle with his stubborn hair.
"I should have explained in the letter that there are other guests."
"Men like Pucey and Urquhart?" Harry asked, clearly more concerned with the guests than him being presentable.
"No, not really," Draco sighed vaguely as he gave up on the hair. "They – well, you'll see in a moment, won't you? Come, they're waiting."
Harry was filled with curiosity as they walked down the familiar halls. He wondered who the guests were and why Draco had invited them. Draco would not say anything of them, claiming that Harry might act unreasonably if he knew beforehand.
When he entered the dining room, the charming smile Harry had readied immediately faltered as all of the heads of the table turned to him.
"Mr. Potter," Draco entered behind him. "You, of course, already know Mr. Zabini, Ms. Parkinson, Ms. Bulstrode, Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Goyle, and Mr. Nott."
The most surreal feeling of déjà vu overwhelmed him – as though he had already pictured the scene before him in an awful nightmare. Harry was speechless. He couldn't even bring himself to nod his head politely. By the looks of utter shock, it was apparent that he was the least expected man to enter the room. In the thick silence, they looked from Harry to Draco; and Harry turned to Draco, expecting for the man to clarify why, exactly, Harry was surrounded by his worst enemies of society. Despite their mutual unpleasant daze, all of Draco Malfoy's guests came to the same conclusion: Harry was there to become a victim of sheer humiliation.
Harry tried to catch Draco's gaze as he was seated beside Pansy Parkinson – tried to silently demand an explanation – but the man would not look at him. He either ignored or did not notice the multiple icy gazes sent at Harry; but Harry was most certainly all too aware of the waves of hatred being sent to him.
Harry decided that it was, indeed, a nightmare he'd had before. He sensed that they had overcome their astonishment and were beginning to group against him. He felt their impatience as they all waited for the most opportune moment to individually attack the man who had threatened to ruin them – the man who had defeated them. He couldn't concentrate on building an appropriate defense; he still couldn't wrap his mind around the situation. Worst of all was the fact that Harry expected Draco to conform to his orthodoxy once again, abandoning Harry – watching his humiliation snidely. A small part of him felt as though he had returned to the past – a past where they did not confide in each other and instead attempted to destroy each other. This left him feeling surprisingly weak.
Once the appetizers were set, Millicent turned to Draco and asked loudly, "If you don't mind me asking, Draco, could you possibly explain why that man is here?"
"If by man you mean Mr. Potter, then certainly: I invited him."
Victor and Gregory exchanged looks as Pansy asked, "Why would you do something as dreadful as letting him into your house and into our presence?"
Draco frowned. "Personally, I'm honored that he's decided to come."
Blaise took this to be a sarcastic comment and laughed; the others, just on cue, quickly joined him. Harry looked at Draco almost desperately, feeling an overwhelming heat of embarrassment, but Draco still would not look at him.
"This isn't a laughing matter," Draco said quite seriously. At this, the laughter died slowly.
"I invited him because I believe he deserves to witness, well…" He hesitated and, finally, turned his uncertain gaze to Harry. "I respect and admire this man. We've had many conversations in the past months, making us much closer than any of you could have possibly realized. This was to remain private, but lately, I've come to recognize that my familiarity with Mr. Potter certainly isn't something to be ashamed of."
"I don't understand," Pansy said with a strained smile. "Is this some sort of trick, Draco?"
"Not at all," he said earnestly. "To say it simply, Mr. Potter and I have a new alliance of sorts – an alliance that I hope all of you will come to respect."
At this, Blaise abruptly stood, pushing the chair back roughly. "Draco – a word if I may."
Draco, too, stood; and as the two deserted the table, Harry clenched his fists tightly and stared at his untouched plate, feeling the angry stares burn into him. Yet he was not concentrating on the others' outraged and appalled feelings, for he was still stuck on his own bewilderment. It was simply too unreal; it made no sense that Draco would ever reveal their friendship. There was no valid or appropriate reason for his actions.
After long, agonizing minutes passed, Harry strongly wanted to leave for the comfort and safety of his home, but he knew that leaving then would be cowardly; and he didn't want to leave Draco alone after he'd done such a thing. As voices angrily rose, he looked towards the open doorway and into the hallway. Within moments, Blaise furiously swept back in and returned to his seat. Draco, who closely followed, sat again in the seat beside Harry. Harry watched him closely, seeing mostly irritation but also feeling a hidden, bruised manner.
"Tell me, Mr. Potter, why is it that you've decided to ally with Mr. Malfoy?" Blaise asked snappishly. "Have you finally realized that the life of peasant simply isn't as appealing as the life of an elite gentleman?"
"No," Harry frowned, glancing away from Draco. "I'm sure that I'll always prefer the common man, thank you."
"I suppose you're hoping to find information so that you can blackmail us again, then?" Millicent asked nastily.
"Of course, if you give me a cause for doing such a thing," Harry answered sarcastically.
"Mr. Potter," Pansy glowered, "perhaps you're too impulsive to realize that you're outweighed here, and that you ought to choose your words far more carefully."
"Is there reason to believe that I'm in danger?" Harry asked mockingly.
"There's reason to believe that you have some sort of influence over Mr. Malfoy," Blaise said warily. "Perhaps you've returned to your devious, blackmailing ways."
"I'm sorry that you can't accept a simple acquaintance, free of such suspicions."
"Mr. Potter, I would never be able to accept such a strange and peculiar alliance. You can be sure that I'll find how and why Mr. Malfoy has agreed to such an affair – I promise this to you."
Absolutely exasperated and not to mention emotionally exhausted, Harry suddenly pushed away from the table. "If you'll excuse me – I think I've had enough of this for the night."
He had barely quit the room when he heard Draco's calls. He was tempted to ignore the man, but knew that he didn't deserve such rudeness. He slowed to a halt and allowed the man to join him in the dark hall.
"How could you leave?" Draco asked, clearly annoyed, as he faced Harry.
"Why would you do something like that?" Harry demanded, ignoring Draco's question.
"Don't act ignorant, not now."
"I suppose you planned this, then – to make me feel completely isolated – "
"I suppose it doesn't quite matter that I isolated myself from my main allies in the process," Draco muttered.
"Why did you?" Harry asked again, much more firmly this time.
Draco hesitated for a moment before he asked, "You honestly have forgotten, then? We made a deal, Mr. Potter, that if we publicly accepted each other, our relationship would develop into more."
In that moment, Harry looked at Draco with a ridiculous expression of mixed anger, disbelief, and alarm. "You must be… By God, Draco, I was being sarcastic. You were being sarcastic."
"I most certainly wasn't being sarcastic," Draco's eyes narrowed as he calmly folded his arms. "You made it quite clear that you wanted substance as well as physical attraction, and I figured that publicly accepting you in front of them would be sufficient for our relationship."
Harry flushed. "We don't have the type relationship you imagine, Mr. Malfoy, except for that of a – a mentor and a student of sorts."
"You can't deny that there's mutual attraction," Draco muttered with a tone of frustration. "Ever since we spoke of our preferences – "
"Even if there is, it means nothing," Harry said firmly. "I've told you, I'm simply not ready! I can't believe you're being so damned persistent, and that you would go to such lengths – "
"It'll inevitably happen," Draco interrupted, almost coldly. "It's irritating that you insist on prolonging this."
Harry grinned incredulously. "I believe you're far too expectant."
"I'm not overly expectant for insisting that you complete your side of the bargain, am I?"
He shook his head and turned away from Draco. "As I said before, I was being sarcastic. You're a fool for not realizing that."
"As you're a fool for not realizing that I was quite serious," Draco stepped forward. "Why do you think, then, that I've been helping you with your homosexuality all along? It certainly wasn't out of pity, Mr. Potter, or simple kindness."
"You're just doing this to torture me."
"Not at all," Draco murmured. "I'm doing this because I've made a habit of acting as a homosexual man should." He hesitated for a moment before sighing and continuing, "There's something between you and I. There's no point in denying it, Mr. Potter; you must have realized it by now, else you truly are a fool. There's a connection that goes far beyond attraction, something that keeps pulling us together, whether it's as rivals, friends, or as a mentor and his student." At that, Harry remembered Hermione's opinion – that they were each other's double – and sighed, turning back to face him. "Perhaps it's the beginnings of emotional development you always speak of," Draco continued, "or – or maybe it's just the fact that we've been rivals for so long… but either way, it exists."
"A connection may exist," Harry interrupted, "but that's little reason for us to – well, complicate our relationship further."
"For me, Mr. Potter, you're just different from other men like Pucey and Urquhart. You're curious, brash, and have undoubtedly offered me far more interesting days than other men ever have – much more interesting than they ever have," Draco said, referring to the other guests they had left in the dining room. "At the risk of sounding arrogant, I have to say that I know I've influenced your life in a similar way. Why, then, should we pretend to be ignorant? It would be irresponsible of you to insist that we remain ever the same."
"I never – insisted that…" he frowned and hesitated, unable to look at Draco, before he said quietly, "I don't want to speak of this now."
"Then let's not speak now. Just promise me that you'll fulfill your side of the deal. This has gone beyond a childish joke, even if it did start as that."
Harry had never been so nervous. His hands were cold, his chest hurt, and it felt as though something quite large was moving in his stomach. Draco had mercifully agreed that he did not have to be present to be accepted in front of Hermione, Ron, and Ginny – that it would be enough if Harry simply told them. However, Harry was starting to wonder now if he should have, perhaps, asked Draco to come after all. He would probably say something cold and sarcastic that would make Harry feel more angry than nervous, and would undoubtedly offer support if he saw that Harry needed it.
He wasn't there, though, and Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were patiently waiting on the sofa for the important news he had invited them to hear. Harry wondered how quickly their expectant, friendly gazes would turn to incredulity and disgust.
"Are you feeling all right, Harry?" Ginny asked worriedly. "You seem pale."
He nodded as he swallowed thickly. "I – invited you all here today to speak to you of something important," he stared at the edge of Hermione's lavender dress.
"Why the formalities?" Ron laughed. "It really can't be that serious, can it?"
Hermione shushed him as Harry glanced up apprehensively. "It – is rather serious, actually. I… well, I've found another man, you understand, and – "
"Oh, Harry, that's wonderful," Ginny beamed as Ron took on a rather pale expression himself.
Hermione, too, smiled as she asked, "Do we know who he is by any chance?"
Harry nodded, turning away from them slightly, and mumbling something incomprehensible.
"Sorry, Harry, I didn't catch that."
"Yes – you do know him," he repeated more loudly. "He and I have – well, become rather close lately. I mean to say, he's helped me understand myself much more, and he's recently decided that he isn't satisfied with friendship – "
"By God, Harry, you don't have to go into the details," Ron interrupted suddenly, clearly embarrassed. "Just say who it is."
"That's just it," Harry said quietly. "I'm not sure you'll appreciate who it is – no, in fact I know that you won't accept him… But I want you to understand that he's helped me, he truly has, and that there's another side to him that you would never expect to exist…"
He could see the realization slowly dawning on Hermione's face. She stood, suddenly, and shook her head slowly. "No, Harry, please don't say – "
"What is it?" Ron asked, plainly confused.
"Hermione, listen to me," Harry said, "he's a better man than he's let on, and we've confided in each other – "
"What is it?" Ron repeated firmly.
"Draco Malfoy," Hermione said, still shaking her head. "I can't believe you would trust Draco Malfoy again, Harry, after everything he's done to you!"
"Him?" Ron looked at Harry is disgust. "You can't be serious – "
"Just because he's homosexual, Harry, doesn't mean that you should trust him. I'm sure that there are plenty of others, if only you would look a little harder – "
"You don't understand," Harry said firmly. "I trust him because he's helped me feel more comfortable with myself. He's taught me about my nature. He's even openly accepted me as a friend, and he asked me to do the same. I'm not asking for your support – just your understanding and tolerance."
In the silence that followed, Harry impatiently waited for a response. Finally, Hermione sighed and said, "I'm understanding of your preferences… but I'm sorry, Harry; I simply can't tolerate Draco Malfoy."
Ron quickly gave his assent, and even Ginny quietly apologized. It hurt Harry that they asked him not to trust Draco Malfoy; asked him to never mention their developing relationship again. He saw that he couldn't force them to accept Draco, and understood their concern given that they had yet to see the man as anything other than an antagonist… Yet he couldn't bring himself to describe their reactions to Draco. He told the man that he'd done as they agreed and left it at that.
1: Karl Heinrich Ulrichs, a pioneer of the gay movement, wrote very important essays collected as Researches on the Riddle of Male-Male Love. In these essays, he defended homosexuality.
2: Francesco Boneri, a model for many of Michelangelo's paintings such as Amor Vincit Omnia, has often represented many homoerotic ideals in some of Michelangelo's best works.
3: Il Moro refers to Pancrazio Buciuni, younger lover and model of famous photographer Wilhelm von Gloeden.
4: Jungian or analytical psychology concentrates on an individual's self-knowledge as that individual learns of him or herself through archetypes found in nature, dreams, or other people. For example, if someone finds that he or she does not like another person's qualities, it's a possibility that the person does not like those same qualities found within.
AN: Thanks for all of the support and feedback in the reviews. I love knowing what you guys think. It was pretty hard for me to write, because I was trying to be as vague as possible when it came to Harry and his – er – developing feelings (have to remember that this is a T rating, here)… but not to the point where you guys would have no idea what was going on, you know? I hope it wasn't too confusing.
Anyway, I hope you all liked this chapter and look forward to the next.
Edit: I'm sorry, for some reason the original borders I'd put in didn't come up. Sorry for the confusion!