Shit shit shit shit shit shit what did just I do what have I done?
Harry didn't walk away from Malfoy. He ran.
He ran so fast his lungs burned, so fast that he ended up leaning against the wall heaving for breath. Merlin, but he thought he was in better shape than this.
He had just kissed Malfoy.
And, if Harry was being entirely honest with himself, he hadn't hated it.
As he caught his breath, he took a moment to remember Malfoy's warm, velvety lips on his, the little gasps he'd made into the kiss, the way his lithe form had felt tucked between his arms. Malfoy may have needed to eat more, but fuck if he wasn't fit. The things Harry wanted to do to him . . .
No. Stop these thoughts. Stop them at once.
Harry was not gay. He couldn't be. He couldn't be.
Ginny. That was who he needed to see. She would make all of this make sense, somehow. Harry wondered if his kiss with Malfoy was something he'd needed to get out of his system, and now that it was out then he wouldn't ever feel the desire to touch the blonde haired Slytherin ever again.
But then why did he still feel so much longing, so much want?
Harry briskly walked back to the eighth year common room, where Ginny was sure to be hanging out with Dean or Luna or some of her other friends. He knew things between him and Ginny had ended sour over dinner, so he was a little nervous, to say the least. This interaction between them could make or break them, and Harry was not gay damnit. He was going to prove that to himself once and for all.
Once he reached the common room, he grunted the password and clamored inside. He scanned the room for a nest of fiery red hair, and found her sitting by the fireplace with none other than Dean. Great.
Harry walked over to them, heart pounding in his chest. He didn't know how to approach this subject. Ginny had practically begged him to take her back over dinner, and he'd rejected her. Why had she done that? Harry wondered if it was more about the principle of the thing, about her feeling secure in the knowledge that he wanted her back rather than her actually wanting him back.
"Erm, Ginny?"
Ginny looked up at him, and her eyes immediately narrowed. Her freckled nose scrunched up.
"Yes, Harry?"
"C-Can I talk to you for a minute?"
Dean looked up at him as well. "What is it you want to say?"
Harry frowned at him, then returned his gaze to Ginny. "Alone?"
Ginny's eyes darted from him to Dean. She looked conflicted.
Dean hardened his expression. "Anything you have to say to Ginny you can say in front of me."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. I'd like a private conversation with her. Let her speak for herself."
Ginny sighed. "Fine, Harry, we can talk."
Dean looked troubled. "Are you sure you want to-"
"I'll be fine." Ginny sounded annoyed.
She rose from her seat and Harry led them to a vacant sofa. He sat closer to her than necessary, needing to feel her closeness, anything to remind himself that he missed her and that he was for a fact not gay.
"So, what do you-"
Harry wasted no time in grabbing her face and crashing his mouth against hers. Ginny froze against him, and she made a "Mmph!" sound. Instead of responding to the kiss like Malfoy had, she pulled away and fixed him with a look of shock.
"What in Merlin's beard was that?"
Harry hadn't planned this far ahead. He didn't know what to say. How could he tell her that he'd needed to prove to himself that he still had feelings for her because he'd just kissed Malfoy and liked it?
"I-I-"
"You have some nerve, Harry Potter."
"I'm s-sorry, I- That wasn't-"
"Just what do you think you're playing at? Telling me you don't want me one moment, kissing me the next? What do you want, Harry?"
Harry didn't know. He didn't know anything, except that kiss he'd just had with Ginny was empty. He'd felt nothing.
"I dunno why I did that," he said stupidly. "I guess I just wanted to make sure that this was . . . That we were really over."
"Well, there's a great way to go about it," Ginny said sarcastically. "Messing me up in the head by reigniting all my feelings for you? Gold star."
Harry sighed. "Ginny, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you."
Ginny frowned at him. "I thought you were over me."
As of right now, Harry was definitely over Ginny Weasley. He had felt nothing during their kiss, and as they'd discovered months earlier he couldn't even get aroused by her anymore. This was a fail in his attempts to prove himself straight.
"I . . . I dunno what I am," Harry confessed honestly.
Ginny took a long, hard look at him. It made Harry uncomfortable. "You know, Harry . . . It's okay. Not to know."
Harry had a feeling she knew what he was talking about.
"But what's not okay is stringing me along for the ride when you haven't even mapped out a destination."
Fuck, but did she have a point. Harry didn't know why he was reacting this way, what had come over him and compelled him to kiss Malfoy, and he was equal parts confused and turned on by the way things had gone.
"I'm sorry," he said, because truthfully he didn't know what else to say.
Ginny shook her head. "You're confusing me, Harry," she said. "Do you want me or not?"
Harry shook his head in turn. "I don't know."
"Well, you can't expect me to sit around waiting for you. Dean, he . . . He asked me out on a date."
Harry's stomach churned. Of course Ginny should go out on a date with a guy who she could be confident about wanting her. Nobody wanted to deal with Harry's confusion and indecision.
"Y-You should go," he said unsteadily, and not for the first time he wondered where this sadness was coming from if he wasn't even attracted to Ginny anymore.
"I wanted to talk to you about it first, before I went," Ginny said softly. "Not that I need your permission. I just wanted you to hear it from me and not somebody else."
"I appreciate that."
"So . . ."
"So go." Harry forced a smile, even though he felt like he was breaking apart on the inside. Ginny had given him everything. They'd had everything. When had things gotten so messed up?
"Why does it feel like you're lying to me? I don't understand you, Harry. One moment you're completely over me and the next, you're jumping my bones. It isn't fair. It's okay to be confused, but it's not okay to drag me into it."
"I am not confused."
"You just said you didn't know if you wanted me or not."
He couldn't very well argue with that, now, could he?
"Okay. I won't lie to you. I felt nothing, from that kiss."
Ginny's eyes widened. "Wow."
Harry sighed. "I-"
"No. It's fine. Thank you for being honest." Ginny twirled with a strand of red hair.
"And I guess a part of me is confused because your touches used to set me aflame."
"Things change, I guess."
"But why do they have to? Why can't things be as they were?"
Ginny rested a hand on Harry's leg, rubbing up and down. The gesture was soothing.
"Because we aren't the same people anymore. Things change for a reason. Maybe you were meant all along to figure this out. Maybe we were never meant to be together."
Boy, but did the words sting. He understood what she was saying, but to dismiss their entire relationship?
"You . . . You think we should have never dated?"
"I didn't say that," said Ginny. "I meant last together, stay together. My time with you was precious, Harry, and I wouldn't trade it for the world. But I have a feeling that you and I were never meant to stay together."
"Why do you say that?"
"Isn't it obvious, Harry?"
"Not really."
"It's everything. I'd hear my friends talk about their relationships, and I'd hardly ever be able to relate. Throughout our entire time dating, I felt like something was . . . missing."
"You mean I wasn't good enough for you."
"I mean we weren't the right match. We were forcing something that wasn't meant to be."
"It didn't feel forced to me," said Harry. "Being with you felt natural; it felt right."
"How did you know?" asked Ginny. "I was the only girl you'd ever fallen for; you had no frame of reference, and neither did I."
Harry realized he didn't have an answer to that. "I guess I just really loved you," he said.
Ginny sighed, shaking her head. "Sometimes love isn't enough."
"Do you love Dean?" he asked insecurely.
Ginny shook her head. "Too early to tell."
Harry nodded. "Well, I hope you and him have a good time on your date."
"Harry-"
"You don't need to give me that look. I'm fine."
"What look?"
"The one you're giving me right now. You don't even realize you're doing it, do you?"
Ginny removed her hand from his leg, placing it in her lap and folding it with her other hand. "Harry, I need to know you're going to be alright. That this isn't going to break you."
"You and I both know I've been through much worse." His attempt to make light of the situation didn't land well with Ginny.
"None of that matters here," she said. "None of that has anything to do with this."
"I was trying to make a joke."
"No, you were trying to deflect. So I wouldn't notice how much this is affecting you."
Why did she have to read him so well?
"Listen, I dunno why you are so insistent upon the fact that I'm so . . . affected, by everything. I'm fine. I won't break."
Harry watched her squeeze her hands tighter.
"You're more sensitive than you let on, Harry. And I refuse to hurt your feelings anymore than I already have."
"You'd do better just to tell me the truth. I can take it."
"I just . . ." Ginny sighed. "I feel things for Dean already, things I've never felt for you."
Dread coursed through Harry's veins. "How long?"
Ginny's gaze remained on the floor.
"How long?" he asked again.
Her voice was barely above a whisper. "B-Before we broke up."
"What?" He refused to believe the words. Maybe he had misheard her. She was speaking awfully quietly.
Ginny looked back up at him. "Before we broke up."
"So all that rubbish about not being enough for you in bed was just an excuse?" Harry asked, trying his absolute best to keep his voice level.
Ginny shook her head. "I- No- That wasn't-"
"You had me believe for months that I couldn't . . . perform well enough for you, and that I wasn't good enough for you, and it was actually all because you went and fell for another person?"
"Harry," said Ginny, and to his dismay she sounded close to tears. "Please, try to understand-"
"I get it; I have a lot of baggage. I know it must have been such an inconvenience for you to help me through my nightmares," Harry said savagely.
"Harry, that wasn't it at all-"
"I know I wasn't perfect, but I was trying my best, Gin. I thought we could figure it out together."
"You were great, Harry, you were wonderful-"
"Not so wonderful; you caught feelings for another man."
"It wasn't your fault- These things just sometimes happen."
Of course it happened to him. He couldn't catch a fucking break. Everything happened to him, and it was piling higher and higher and higher-
"I need you to know nothing has happened between us, Harry. I was completely loyal to you through the end."
"Completely loyal," scoffed Harry. "Are you missing the part where you lied to me about why we broke up?"
"I didn't want to hurt you."
"How did you think that wouldn't hurt me more than the truth?"
"Because I was angry!" Ginny shouted, and Harry flinched.
"Because you had just . . . Humiliated me. I had gotten completely undressed for you, thrown myself at you, and you couldn't even sport a semi. I was never so embarrassed in my life. So I told you that was the main reason we broke up because I wanted you to feel every bit as humiliated as I did."
Harry put his head in his hands. It suddenly made so much more sense. Ginny liking another man, feeling humiliated enough to lie about the end of their relationship. He was frankly a little relieved, because it meant he hadn't completely failed as a boyfriend.
"S-So it wasn't because I was a bad boyfriend?" he asked weakly, and hated himself for sounding so pathetic.
"Heavens, no. You were a wonderful boyfriend. Aside from the bedroom incidents, you were amazing."
Harry breathed out a sigh of relief. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier, Gin?"
"Because I was afraid to," Ginny said softly. "I didn't want to make you mad. You scare me when you're mad."
"I'm working on that," said Harry dryly.
"So are we okay? No hard feelings about Dean?"
"I'm not thrilled you lied to me, but I can forgive you for it. Thank you for coming forward."
Even though it had been him who'd pulled her aside. Harry wondered if she ever would have told him otherwise. He realized just the thought was enough to put a wrench in their relationship, and they'd never be the same again. He'd have to find a way to deal with that. Because the truth was, he missed Ginny for everything they'd had together before they'd started dating. He wanted that back. And now, he wasn't sure if they were ever going to get it.
Ginny nodded, standing up. "I'm glad we talked, Harry."
"Me, too."
He watched her walk away, long red curls bouncing down her back. A sinking feeling crept into his sternum. He hadn't done what he'd wanted to do, after all. He didn't know why the kiss with Malfoy had affected him so much, only that it had. And he didn't know what that meant for him or his sexuality. The only thing he was sure of was how confused he was.
After what felt like forever, Draco finally summoned the strength to pull himself up the wall into a standing position. He couldn't sit around and mope forever, after all.
Potter hated him. Potter was repulsed by him. He made Potter sick.
Draco didn't know what else he'd been expecting. Of course Potter was repulsed by him. Why wouldn't he be? It wasn't like Draco had much to bring to the table. He was scrawny, disgustingly so, all he seemed to be capable of doing was hurting Potter's feelings, and to top it all off Theo had basically told him he'd been a shit lay so that probably meant he was a shit kisser, too, right?
Draco buried his head in his hands and stifled a scream.
He had never felt more humiliated in his entire life. What if that was a cruel prank? What if Potter had kissed him on purpose to elicit a reaction because he'd somehow found out about Draco's crush, and was already laughing about it to all his friends? Rumors spread like wildfire at Hogwarts; everybody was sure to have it out for him by tomorrow at the latest. Hexes would be thrown his way like darts, and he wouldn't have anybody to protect him because once his friends found out, they would abandon him out of disgust.
"Oi, blondie."
Draco flinched at the sound of the harsh voice, and turned around to see Callahan sauntering towards him. Instinctively, he took a step back. Then immediately reprimanded himself internally for appearing so weak.
"What do you want?" Draco asked coldly.
Callahan sniggered. "Your little attitude won't work on me, unfortunately. I'm not afraid of you." Another step closer to Draco.
"Is there something I can do for you?"
"Yeah, there is, actually. Tell that boyfriend of yours I'm not selling to him anymore."
Wait, what?
Curious, Draco asked, "Why not?"
Callahan rolled his eyes. "Because he was walking around high today in broad daylight. If a teacher cornered him and asked him where he got them, my arse is on the line. I don't trust him to keep his mouth shut when he's inebriated."
"What do you want me to do about it?"
"I just said, I want you to tell him yourself. I'm frankly afraid that he'll deck me otherwise."
Draco set his face in a frown. "We broke up."
Callahan's eyes widened. "Really? That's- Oh. Okay. Well, will you still tell him?"
Draco narrowed his eyes. "Why should I help you out? You're the reason we're broken up in the first place."
Callahan shook his head. "Nuh uh. I didn't force those pills down his throat. He made all his own choices, even when he cheated on you with me."
"He lied, you know," said Draco, suddenly feeling a power rush. "Before I figured it out, he told me you raped him."
Callahan gasped softly.
"In the wrong hands, that information can be dangerous. Very dangerous. I could have easily told an administrator. He knew that risk, and told me anyway."
Callahan's icy blue eyes hardened. "He didn't."
Draco felt like he was soaring. "Oh, but he did."
This was sure to turn Callahan against Theo. Callahan would cut Theo off, Theo would realize what a dick he'd been, and would come crawling back to Draco. Then Draco would have the immense satisfaction of kicking him while he was down. He would hurt Theo in every way Theo had hurt him, and more.
"This changes everything," Callahan growled. "I'll fight the motherfucker, I'll deck him until he isn't breathing-"
"Mmm, I don't think you want to do that," said Draco. "Theo's stronger, and taller, than you. In a fight, he could take you out easy. No offense. Your best bet is to stop selling him the drugs, and if he comes after you, tell him I told you about the rape thing. I'll deal with the rest."
Callahan's eyes widened. "You'd do that?"
Draco nodded.
He shrugged. "As you wish. I'll see you around, blondie."
As he walked away, Draco felt a tremor in his arms as he sometimes did for no particular reason. His mother had told him that the shaking was an after effect of extended use of Cruciatus. Just fucking wonderful. Like he needed another reminder of the dreadful war.
He began walking back towards the Great Hall, not because he was hungry but because he wanted to be in the presence of his friends after that debacle with Potter.
Once he reached his destination, he made a beeline for the Slytherin table. Sure enough, his friends were all munching on their food happily. Pansy cocked a brow when she saw him.
"Care to explain what that was all about, Draco?" she asked as he slid into the space next to her.
"It was nothing," he said, and Pansy looked at him as though she didn't believe him.
"Doesn't look like nothing," she said. "Your cheeks are flushed."
Draco felt a deeper blush creeping in, which surely wouldn't help him any. How was he supposed to tell Pansy, or any of them for that matter, what had happened? There was no way. He'd be mortified, and they would judge the everloving hell out of him.
"Why'd you follow Potter?" Blaise asked.
Draco shrugged. "He looked upset. I wanted to scope it out, make sure everything was okay."
"Since when do you care if Potter's upset?"
Draco didn't have an answer to that.
"And since when do you notice him leaving the Great Hall?" Greg asked, and damn him. Damn him to hell.
"I-I just happened to notice tonight. It isn't a regular thing," Draco said.
"Was everything alright?" asked Pansy.
Draco nodded. "Everything was fine. He actually told me that his friends thought he liked me."
"Thought, or knew?" Pansy asked, and he heard Blaise snigger.
"What do you mean by that?"
Pansy shook her head. "Don't play dumb, darling."
Draco, to his dismay, felt his cheeks redden even further. "I seriously don't know what you're-"
"Anyone who has eyes can see that Potter's had his sights set on you since sixth year at least," said Pansy, and what?
"N-No," said Draco, determined to keep the upper hand, "he stalked me because he knew I was up to something. Because I was evil."
"Mate . . ." Greg frowned at him, and there he went wearing that stupid, sad expression again that Draco hated so much. "You were never evil."
"Can we not talk about this right now?" Draco asked, and he hated his voice for sounding so delicate.
"We only bring it up because it's important for you to understand," said Pansy, "but I couldn't agree more. Back to Potter it is."
"So what happened when you followed him?" Blaise asked. "What did you guys talk about, besides his friends thinking he liked you?"
"Nothing important," said Draco nonchalantly.
"Bullshit," said Pansy.
"We just had a simple conversation. Why is that so hard for you to understand?" asked Draco.
"Because nothing between you and Potter ever has been, or will ever be simple."
Draco despised that there was even something to acknowledge. Because that meant that he hadn't been entirely secretive about his feelings, and there was a strong chance his friends already knew what he had been trying so hard to keep secret.
"Listen," said Greg, "we just want you to be happy. After the whole Theo fiasco, we don't really care who it's with, to be honest."
Draco was about to combust, because there were several things to take apart from Greg's sentence:
The first, was that they just wanted him to be happy. The simplest demand with oftentimes the most complicated conditions.
The second, was that he assumed Draco could suddenly just be happy with a flick of his wand. It didn't work that way.
And third, was that Greg included Harry Potter in this statement. He acknowledged that Harry Potter was a possible choice, and iterated that he'd be a perfectly valid one.
Needless to say, this statement was doing things to Draco's insides. Flipping them upside down, for instance.
"Y-You don't?"
"So you admit it!" Pansy exclaimed, pointing a finger at him. "You admit you like him."
"I never said that," argued Draco, ears burning.
"Mate, you take us for fools," said Blaise. "You've liked him forever. We all know it."
"You're always going out of your way to get his attention," said Pansy.
"Even I notice it," piped in Millie. Draco glared at her.
"And it works," said Greg. "It always works."
"I dunno what you guys are talking about," said Draco, feeling his heart rate start to pick up.
"Denying it will get you nowhere," said Pansy. "Not with us."
"After the disaster that was your last relationship, we just want you to be happy," Greg said again.
Draco didn't know how to tell him that he didn't know how to be. Had never really had the chance. He didn't know the first thing about happiness, only grief and loss and suffering. He attracted it. He ruined everything he touched; how could someone like him ever be happy?
"I appreciate the sentiment, but I don't feel anything for him," said Draco.
Pansy shook her head. "Keep telling yourself that all you want. It's obvious to us that you do."
"What makes you say that?"
"You've been seeking out his company lately."
"No, he keeps finding me."
"So does that mean he likes you, if he keeps seeking you out?"
"I don't think it happens on purpose."
"Even better!" Pansy squealed. "Fate is bringing the two of you together."
"Would you stop?" Draco asked, blushing something fierce. "There is nothing to talk about. I don't like him."
"Something happened with him, didn't it?" Greg asked, and fuck.
Draco couldn't guard his expression. Not when it was three against one. They knew. They knew everything.
"I-"
"I knew it!"
"Pans, you owe me ten galleons," said Blaise, but his voice sounded muffled because Draco's ears were ringing and he was beginning to hyperventilate.
"Draco, it's okay," came Greg's soothing tone. "None of us are judging you."
Draco stood up from his seat, stomach churning with nausea. He needed to just fold in on himself and not exist somewhere. And he couldn't do that here with all his friends watching him, telling him that they knew he liked Potter-
"Draco?" Pansy's soft voice traveled into his eardrum. "Honey, it's okay. Breathe. Just breathe."
Draco shook his head, because he couldn't, and he had kissed Potter back and Potter had run away from him because he was disgusted by him and none of it was fair and why did the universe have to play these cruel tricks on him?
Because you deserve it.
"I-I gotta go." Draco made to climb over the bench, but Greg reached for him and grabbed his arm. Draco flinched, instinctively rejecting the contact.
"Mate, don't leave. We just . . . This isn't one of those things where we're all ganging up on you, trying to make you feel bad. That's the last thing we want. Can we just . . . Talk about this?"
"A-Absolutely not." Draco yanked his arm free. He needed to get out. His mind was screaming at him. Get out get out get out get out they think it's funny they think it's funny-
"Draco, what? We don't think this is funny!" exclaimed Pansy, and fuck, had he said that out loud?
"None of us do," added Blaise. "We just feel a little in the dark. Can you tell us what happened with Potter?"
Draco shook his head back and forth, rapidly. Because to admit to his friends that he'd been kissed and he'd kissed back, just to be immediately rejected was too humiliating to even comprehend.
"N-No."
"We can probably figure it out on our own, but I'd personally rather hear it from you," said Greg.
"Nothing happened," said Draco. "Get your mind out of the gutter. You know what? Fine. You really want to know?"
A series of nods followed his question. Trembling, Draco sat back down.
"H-He kissed me."
Pansy gasped. Greg clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. Blaise whistled.
"Get it, mate."
"Knew you could do it, stud."
"Tell me everything," gushed Pansy.
"H-He, erm, told me to close my eyes. So I did. And then his hand was on my face, cupping my jaw, and then he . . . then he . . ." Draco swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat. He felt Pansy's manicured hand trail soothingly up and down his arm.
"He ran away."
"Just like that?" Greg asked. Draco nodded.
"His loss," said Blaise. "Don't blame yourself."
How could he not? Potter had run away because he was sickened by him.
"Maybe he was scared," said Pansy, and Draco hadn't considered that. It was far more likely that Potter was repulsed by him and had wanted to get away from him as quickly as possible. But he remembered Potter's words as he'd stared back at him with wide, green eyes.
"I didn't mean to violate you."
Draco hadn't felt violated in the slightest. But if Potter felt like he had, then was that merit enough for him to run away? Instead of just asking Draco how he felt?
"He thinks he violated me," said Draco.
Pansy scoffed. "Please. That fucker must be terrible at reading body language if he thinks he didn't turn you on."
Draco felt his cheeks redden further. "I really would rather not talk about this anymore."
"But there's so much to talk about!" exclaimed Pansy. "How do you feel about the kiss? Did you go after Potter? Did you get butterflies in your stomach?"
"That's a cliched Muggle saying," said Draco, but he had gotten all the flying insects in the world. "And no, I didn't go after him. He probably hates me now for kissing him back."
"Why in the world would he kiss you if he didn't want you to kiss him back?" asked Greg, and Draco had to admit it was a good point.
"He probably thinks I'm disgusting," said Draco, and Pansy slapped his arm.
"Don't talk like that, Draco! He does not think you're disgusting. If anything, he liked the kiss so much he didn't know what to do so he panicked and ran."
"He definitely did not like the kiss."
Oh, but then Draco remembered Potter's sexy groan as his hands had tightened in his black hair, the groan that had gone straight to his crotch. There was a slight chance that maybe he had enjoyed kissing Draco.
But then why had he run away?
"You're definitely overthinking this," said Greg, as Pansy's words echoed in his head.
"I'm definitely not," said Draco. "He ran away from me. That tells me everything I need to know." Fuck, he hadn't meant to sound so whiny.
"Yeah- that you both need to pull your heads out of your arses," said Pansy.
Draco wondered if Potter would ever tell his friends. He doubted it.
"I just want to forget this ever happened."
Draco didn't know where to proceed from here. Tomorrow he had Potions with Potter, who was his partner. They'd have to talk and interact, and Draco was dreading it. Tomorrow came soon enough, and Potter averted eye contact as soon as he sat next to Draco.
Well, if Potter wanted to play that way, so he had it. Draco wasn't going to be the first one to speak, not after Potter had run out on him.
Aside from things directly related to class, Potter spoke no words to Draco. Draco tried and failed to quell the hurt he felt at Potter's negligence, so he finally cracked and spoke.
"So, Potter . . . How's your day going?"
Potter looked at him as though his skin had changed colour.
"Fine." He immediately averted eye contact and resumed stirring, but Draco wasn't done yet.
"Anything exciting going on?"
Potter looked back up at him. "What are you doing, Malfoy?"
For some reason, his use of Draco's last name hurt more than usual. It sounded almost harsher, like there was more weight behind it.
Draco furrowed his brows. "What do you mean, what am I doing? I'm just making conversation."
"Well, don't." Potter continued stirring.
Affronted, Draco slammed down his knife. "I'm sorry my presence is so offensive and revolting to you, Potter, but at least I'm trying, here."
The words "to ease the tension" went unsaid.
Potter scoffed. "Trying. You're funny."
Draco, befuddled, threw his hands up. "What about this is funny to you?"
Potter fixed him with a nasty glare. "Nothing. Nothing at all."
Draco felt his lip wobble. "I know you're disgusted by me, but you can't just ignore what happened."
Potter seemed to snap out of what icy trance he'd been in, for his expression morphed from disdain to confusion in a split second. "Malfoy, what are you talking about?"
"I-I know you . . . You aren't . . . I know you don't like me, but you can't just . . . You can't just do what you did and then run away."
Draco couldn't believe the words left his mouth. He was putting himself on the line. For someone who didn't want him back.
Potter looked absolutely flabbergasted. "I'm not disgusted by you. At all."
Draco froze. His heart was beating at a hundred miles a minute. "Y-You aren't?"
Potter looked at him, and his expression was heartbreaking. "Malfoy, I violated you. I dunno what came over me, but I promise you it will never happen again. Alright?"
Draco felt his heart begin to crumble. "A-Alright."
Potter lifted his ladle out of the cauldron, setting it down on the desk. "I mean . . . You did feel violated, right?"
Because Draco was a coward, and because he didn't believe he deserved this handsome, kind, brave man, he said, "Yes. Yes, I did."
Potter sighed heavily. "I'm sorry," he said, looking Draco directly in the eye. Draco did his best not to shudder. "I didn't mean to make you so uncomfortable. I promise I will never do anything like that again."
"It's okay," said Draco, beginning to feel choked up.
"That kiss," said Potter, gripping the ladle tightly, "never happened. Okay?"
"Mhm." Draco swallowed past yet another lump in his throat, blinking his eyes quickly to prevent them from getting damp. Potter would never like him. That much was certain.