GHOSTS
III
Confession
***
It was stange, now. It was strange to yell at him; hit him even, or act like he wanted to, when all he wanted was to take Draco in his arms and just hold him.
Which isn't to say his that his feelings had totally changed. He still thought Malfoy was a prick; still couldn't take an insult; still wanted to rip him to shreds, sometimes. But it was ... different, now. Strange. He wasn't just Malfoy, that asshole, he was Malfoy, that asshole I slept with last night.
Very strange.
***
He had briefly considered telling Harry. He told Harry everything, and as far as he knew, Harry did the same, and it didn't feel right to be keeping a secret from him ... especially something like this.
But how -could- he?
Hey Harry, you know that guy you really hate, the one who's been making our lives miserable for seven years, your arch-rival, the one who's probably involved in a conspiracy to kill you? I slept with him last night.
There was no way...
***
"Um, Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"I need to talk to you." He knew all of Harry's facial expressions by now, knew that now-you-have-me-worried look he was getting. "Don't worry," he said hurridly, "it's not a a big deal. Well. It sort of is. Just ... just hear me out, okay?"
Harry nodded, still looking concerned
"There's ... there's something I realized about myself ... over the summer ... and I didn't have the guts to say anything until now." He took a deep breath, and then rushed through before Harry could say anything. "HarryI'mgay."
"You're ... you're what?" The words came out slow and stunned.
"I'm gay, Harry. Homosexual. A fag, a fairy, a poof. I like boys." And I'm sleeping with Draco Malfoy, he added mentally.
"...oh."
"Harry? You don't ... you don't hate me now, do you?"
"No. I don't hate you. I'm just ... surprised. This, er ... this doesn't ... I mean, you don't ... I mean, you're not telling me this because you fancy -me-, are you?"
Ron stared at him, then grimaced slightly, then burst out laughing. "Oh God, Harry, no! You're my best friend; it'd be like fancying -Percy-!"
At that, Harry started laughing, too, and Ron sighed with relief.
"Well, you took that better than I'd feared you would." Of course, you only know half the story... "Er, d'you suppose I should tell Dean and Seamus, so they know what they're rooming with?"
Harry grinned. "I ... don't think they'll have a problem with it."
***
At lunch that day, Ron was most surprised to see Pigwidgeon fly up to him, a note tied to his leg.
"Hallo, Pig; who's been using you as a messenger?" He untied the scroll, and in a tiny, painfully perfect, nearly feminine hand was written, I'll see you tonight, then, Davis?
"Davis?" Harry asked, reading over his shoulder.
Ron shrugged, and tried to keep from grinning. "No idea."
***
III
Confession
***
It was stange, now. It was strange to yell at him; hit him even, or act like he wanted to, when all he wanted was to take Draco in his arms and just hold him.
Which isn't to say his that his feelings had totally changed. He still thought Malfoy was a prick; still couldn't take an insult; still wanted to rip him to shreds, sometimes. But it was ... different, now. Strange. He wasn't just Malfoy, that asshole, he was Malfoy, that asshole I slept with last night.
Very strange.
***
He had briefly considered telling Harry. He told Harry everything, and as far as he knew, Harry did the same, and it didn't feel right to be keeping a secret from him ... especially something like this.
But how -could- he?
Hey Harry, you know that guy you really hate, the one who's been making our lives miserable for seven years, your arch-rival, the one who's probably involved in a conspiracy to kill you? I slept with him last night.
There was no way...
***
"Um, Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"I need to talk to you." He knew all of Harry's facial expressions by now, knew that now-you-have-me-worried look he was getting. "Don't worry," he said hurridly, "it's not a a big deal. Well. It sort of is. Just ... just hear me out, okay?"
Harry nodded, still looking concerned
"There's ... there's something I realized about myself ... over the summer ... and I didn't have the guts to say anything until now." He took a deep breath, and then rushed through before Harry could say anything. "HarryI'mgay."
"You're ... you're what?" The words came out slow and stunned.
"I'm gay, Harry. Homosexual. A fag, a fairy, a poof. I like boys." And I'm sleeping with Draco Malfoy, he added mentally.
"...oh."
"Harry? You don't ... you don't hate me now, do you?"
"No. I don't hate you. I'm just ... surprised. This, er ... this doesn't ... I mean, you don't ... I mean, you're not telling me this because you fancy -me-, are you?"
Ron stared at him, then grimaced slightly, then burst out laughing. "Oh God, Harry, no! You're my best friend; it'd be like fancying -Percy-!"
At that, Harry started laughing, too, and Ron sighed with relief.
"Well, you took that better than I'd feared you would." Of course, you only know half the story... "Er, d'you suppose I should tell Dean and Seamus, so they know what they're rooming with?"
Harry grinned. "I ... don't think they'll have a problem with it."
***
At lunch that day, Ron was most surprised to see Pigwidgeon fly up to him, a note tied to his leg.
"Hallo, Pig; who's been using you as a messenger?" He untied the scroll, and in a tiny, painfully perfect, nearly feminine hand was written, I'll see you tonight, then, Davis?
"Davis?" Harry asked, reading over his shoulder.
Ron shrugged, and tried to keep from grinning. "No idea."
***
