Going to bed that evening, Draco had a lot to think about. Some part of him had still been afraid that there was something wrong with him, as he had not - before now - been at all interested in sex or relationships. What Harry had told him though, confirmed that he was not in any way abnormal. He was not even the only one; there were others like him. Other demisexuals. Demisexual. Draco repeated the word to himself in his head, tasted it on his tongue. He decided he liked it.
Learning about demisexuality had felt like he finally got a piece of a missing puzzle. Nothing had exactly changed, but still he felt more whole now than he had before. He did not know any other demisexuals, but still the knowledge that they existed made him feel less alone.
All his thoughts were not as positive though. There was also Harry, and the whole other part of their conversation. Draco knew Harry had wished that they would have somehow defined what this was, that they had. He wanted to know if they were friends, or if they maybe were starting to be something a little bit more than that.
Draco did not want to put a name on it though. The thought of it almost made him panic. He had to be the strong one, and he really wanted to help Harry, be there for him. He also wanted to be sure that he did not promise feelings that he might not yet know were true. He did not want to promise a future, not yet. He wanted to be sure first.
This whole thing was so new to him. He was still getting used to actually, maybe, being interested in someone as something more than a friend. Still, he did not want to just jump in and make promises about feelings that he felt for the first time ever. Yes, he could admit to himself that he could see himself with Harry, as a couple. He was even starting to actually think about having sex with Harry.
That was the main problem though. Actually, there was two.
First of all, Draco Malfoy did not share. Now, the logical part of him told him it was unreasonable of him to think Harry should have saved himself for Draco. He knew that. The thing was, his feelings did not listen. He had noticed Harry's expression when he had realized Draco had never had sex before. The expression had said it all. Harry not only had had it, he had had it several times. The thought made Draco flinch. There clearly had been others than the girl-Weasel.
Being jealous of past lovers was pointless. He had no right. What was in the past, should stay in the past. Just like he wished that all the bad things that was in his past, would stay there. He could not help himself though. His mind kept going back to wondering how many lovers Harry had had, and who they were.
Then, there was the second issue with Harry having past lovers. Draco did not like to be not good at something. He did know the theory behind having intercourse, but as it was, he had never actually done it. Sure, he knew what he liked to do to himself as he wanked, but there was no guarantee that Harry would like exactly the same. If they ever got to bed together, it would be Draco's first time, but Harry would have others to compare to. Draco was loathe to admit it even to himself, but the thought of him fumbling around, not actually knowing what he was doing, made him sick. He just could not be anything but the best. How could he be the best though, at something he had never done before?
The jealousy coupled with the fear of not measuring up was just too much. He just could not make promises to Harry about feelings and a future together. Draco felt absolutely miserable as he tried to think his way through this all. He told himself it was not logical to feel like this.
His feelings just would not listen to his logic though.
They still had not talked about what it was that they had together. It bothered Harry, but for the moment, he was okay with it. He wished that they would soon talk about it, but as it was right now, he guessed he could understand Draco's reluctance to. He thought about what Draco had told him, about never having had sex before. Nor had he ever been in a relationship with anyone.
The fact that Draco was demisexual and that Harry was the first person ever that he was interested in was almost overwhelming. It was flattering, but Harry could not help but wonder what he had done to deserve it. Demisexuals did not feel sexual attraction until they had formed a deep emotional bond. Well, when thinking about it, you could probably say that Harry and Draco had shared an emotional bond since they were elven. Sure, most of that time the emotion was hate, but that old cliche stated that there was a fine line between love and hate, so maybe that was it then.
Harry wanted them to talk about what they had, what sort of relationship were developing between them. At the same time, he was scared shitless by the thought though. He just could not believe anyone would actually be interested in him for anything else than sex, and then it was the whole issue of his feelings. He knew he was an emotional mess. When able to think rationally, he feared that what if he was only latching on to the first sign of kindness and love he got?
Exhausted from the day, Harry fell asleep quickly.
The next morning, he managed to get up in time for breakfast. Actually, he was up a whole hour before breakfast even started. He did not remember the nightmare this time, just the feeling of no escape and something - or someone - haunting him. When he woke up gasping for air and realized there soon would be breakfast anyway, he decided to not go back to sleep. He felt tired, but that was nothing new.
Ron and Hermione were still avoiding him, both at the meals and in the classes they shared. Harry sat with Seamus and Dean at breakfast and lunch, while Ginny joined him again for dinner. He did not share any classes with Draco that day, so he just sat with whomever happened to be without a partner.
He did manage to meet up with Draco shortly a couple of times during the day. They did not manage to get any time anywhere private though, so there was no deeper discussions. In a way it was relieving, as yesterday had been quite an emotional storm. Harry was a little worried though, as he thought he saw an odd expression of worry on Draco's face a couple of times when he did not know Harry was looking. He had no chance to ask about it though.
In the evening he had detention with Snape for being late the other day. Snape put him up to cleaning empty vials until late in the night. The task was tiresome, but mindless. It did leave Harry time to think. Way too much time.
There were a couple of things that kept bothering him about his discussion with Draco from the day before. He knew exactly what one of those things were, but he did not want to know, so he kept on studiously ignoring the subject. Instead he concentrated on the other thing.
It was something Draco had said only in passing. Harry just could not put his finger on what it had been, and it bothered him because he felt it was important. It had been something he had said when telling Harry he could not fix him, that Harry had to fix himself. Draco would just be there supporting him. That had been hard to hear. He just wanted Draco to pick up the pieces that was Harry and put him back together. He knew though that Draco was right. He did not want Draco to be right on this matter, but that did not change the fact that he was.
What was it Draco had said though?
"I've learned that the hard way."
Suddenly Draco's voice sounded in his memory. When he had told Harry that he could not carry him, just support him, he had said he had learned that the hard way. What had he meant by that? How had he learned it? What had happened? Now that Harry remembered what exactly had been nagging at him in his memory, he remembered too the shadow that had quickly passed over Draco's face as he had said those words.
What was it Draco had been thinking about just then? Had he been broken himself? Or had he tried to help someone else and failed? Whatever it was, it was clear now, to Harry, that it bothered Draco. The shadow had told him that. Draco might have promised to be there for Harry, and Harry might be a wreck right now, but he could still at least listen, he thought. If Draco just wanted to talk about it. Maybe it would help. Harry decided he would ask about it, the next time they had a chance at having a private moment.
With that decided, there was just the other thing, that kept bothering him. The thing that he just could not allow himself to think about. He spent the rest of his detention cleaning out vials with a concentration rivaled by few. He just could not let himself think about anything else. He knew he would crash and burn if he did.
He also knew that he would think about it at some point. Sooner rather than later too.
That some point turned out to be the next evening. When he finally got out of detention and back to his dorm, he had just collapsed on the bed. The next day had gone by just as the one before, and even though they had had one class together, he still had not had any private time with Draco. He still felt that there was something bothering the blond. And there sure was something bothering him.
It was after the first DA meeting. The meeting in itself had gone okay, although it had been strange to hold it without Ron and Hermione there helping him out. They continued to avoid him. They were not the only ones either. There had been a lot more interest in attending DA at first, but after he and Draco had kissed so publicly, people had started to drop out. Of those who came, some where almost openly hostile, even though he had never even exchanged words with them before.
Those did not bother him so much though. It was the negative reactions of those he knew, that hurt the most. Ginny, Seamus and Dean were actually the only ones who seemed to be okay with it all, of the Gryffindors. Even Neville seemed to be a bit uncomfortable around Harry now, and that hurt more than he wanted to think about. Not that Neville was openly hostile, Harry did not think that would be even possible for the kind-hearted soul, but he was clearly bothered.
Neville had come to the DA meeting though, and helped Harry with the new ones. He had experience, after all. Ginny too had been there, which had been a relief. She had not been hesitant to bitch back in Harry's defense to a few of the more hostile participants.
After the meeting, Harry had been tired, but not as exhausted as the previous days. As he went to bed, sleep would not come. Instead, the thoughts that he had managed to keep away pushed through his tired barriers.
Draco was a virgin.
That was not a problem, per say. The problem was that Harry was not. He really was not. Before the summer, he had not been that experienced, but then came the end of the war. He finally should have had some peace and quiet, but he had felt like the most wanted man in the wizarding world with people writing him about big, small and imaginary problems, thinking he was the only one who could help. Then there was those who did not even ask for his help, they just took it for granted. His presence would be demanded at memorials, event openings and trial hearings, and he was expected to give his opinion on an umpteen of matters.
So he had started to escape out to the muggle-world, looking to forget for just a moment. And he had, if not forgotten, then at least gotten distracted, for a few hours each time. He had been out more nights than he stayed in, last summer. He had never gone home without first hooking up at least once. He had never hooked up with the same person twice though. He did not even care to try to count how many men he had been fucked by that summer. How many cocks he had sucked.
He was thinking about it now though. He did not count them, but all those nameless faces, at most times faceless faces, just diffuse memories, floating by in his head. Countless encounters in dark alleys, some in a strangers bed that he then had sneaked out of well before morning.
Suddenly it felt like he still had all those men's cum floating in his stomach and he wanted to throw up. He felt it dripping out of his arse too, he felt it drying on his chest and face. He felt himself choking on the memory of it all in his throat. Suddenly he could not take it anymore. Taking care to be as quiet as he could, he got out of the dorm and to the showers. When inside, he made sure to look the door and cast a silencio.
He went to the showers with the need to get clean. No matter how he scrubbed and turned the water ever hotter, he would not feel clean though.
Draco was so pure, untouched.
The water would not go any hotter now. His skin was turning red, but he did not feel it. He kept scrubbing. He used his nails and soon he was bleeding from several places. He did not notice though, and he still would not get clean. He had to though. He had to scrub all those other men's cum of himself, if he was ever to be worthy of Draco.