Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue…please?
Pairing: Eventual Draco/Harry…
A/N: A huge thanks to the wonderful Andrea for beta-ing this.
And also thanks to all reviewers: zeynel, Ice Lupus, Akemi-Masaki, Lanevaly, a reader, CrUsHeDvElVeT, SunGoddess.
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What the hell…??
Chapter 4: Truth: From Recognition to Acceptance
Harry frowned at the weird, yet not unfamiliar, pang of something in his heart when he gaped at the scene. Draco succeeded again in attracting everyone's attention when strolling into the Great Hall, fingers entwined with Terry Boot's. His silver eyes sparkled with innocent joy. He was chewing on his lower lip, attempting to suppress the smile that was fighting to break out. But his effort was in vain when Terry leaned towards him and planted a soft kiss on his lips, and the grin, no longer containable, finally took over his features. Even Harry from his seat was able to sense the happiness that seemed to be radiating from the blond.
As soon as they detached themselves from each other and went to their respective house tables, murmurs and whispers erupted from the crowd, which, of course, were disregarded by the couple. Draco claimed his usual seat between Vince and Greg, across from Blaise and Pansy. From the Gryffindor table, Harry couldn't make out their expressions, but he guessed that his friends were not surprised by the show, since they didn't seemed to be pestering Draco about it. Draco caught Harry's eyes across the hall; he shot him a smile and winked at him.
Harry blushed at the playful, yet somewhat seductive gesture, and diverted his eyes to something else. He wondered why his heart suddenly decided to beat extra violently, and why all the blood in his body seemed to have settled in his cheeks, and why his palms could possibly perspire in the middle of a chilly October morning.
Though he refused to acknowledge it, he knew at the back of his mind exactly what these symptoms implied; he was a healthy seventeen year-old after all. He had experienced them before, with Cho in fifth year, with Ginny in sixth year for a very brief period, and now, it was Draco. But the fact that it was Draco Malfoy who aroused such reactions from his body was…ludicrous. It was Malfoy, for God's sake…I refuse to admit I'm…wait, wait, there's nothing to admit! Damnit, what the hell am I thinking anyways?
Unable to make sense of his thoughts, Harry decided to join everyone else in the Great Hall and concentrate on his meal. However, he did hear, from beside him, Ron's mumbling comments on Terry Boot's taste in men, or lack thereof. Harry wondered what Ron could possibly say about that subject, considering he was most definitely straight. However, he didn't question Ron about it since his brain had just kindly reminded him, so are you….
* * * * * * * * * * * *
That day was one of the weirdest days in Harry's seven years of learning experience in Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy was actually being nice to everyone. Even the Gryffindors he detested. It was most unnerving to see him helping Neville with his spell, greeting Ron and Ginny politely, and complimenting Hermione for her work. It was scaring the shit out of them, which, Harry was starting to suspect, was exactly Draco's intention. His well-hidden sadistic side must be enjoying the faces of Harry's nauseating friends. Maybe even a bit too much to be considered healthy.
Although, not all students were frightened, or sickened, by his jubilant mood. Those that weren't, were turned into piles of mush by his smile. Harry had to admit that Draco did look gorgeous when he flashed that dazzling I'm-so-fucking-happy-I'm-dating-Terry smile, but the superficiality of his currently swooning and drooling fellow schoolmates, and a few professors, was really displeasing, disgusting, actually. I think I'm gonna be sick, too…
Worried about the mental and physical well-being of his friends, and himself, Harry decided the new and improved 'nice and hyper' Draco was highly overrated. It was too out of character, too bizarre, for the Slytherin to be nice. It just wasn't him.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
That night, as Harry was patrolling with Draco, he told him the affects of his earlier terrifying behaviour had on people, especially the Gryffindors.
"I know. Wasn't it fun? Longbottom almost wet his pants this morning when I talked to him." Draco answered, followed by a few minutes of manic laughter, thus confirming Harry's suspicion of Draco's sadistic nature. Harry frowned disapprovingly at him.
"By the way," Harry said dryly, "congratulations at successfully bagging our Head Boy." He paused, but couldn't help himself from asking, "So, when did that happen?"
Draco smiled shyly and answered, "Well, after you left last night, he came to the dungeons looking for me. And…something happened, then…something else happened, and we are together!"
"Oh, thanks for clearing that up for me, and here I thought you were going to be vague about it." Harry said sarcastically.
"Oh, c'mon, you don't expect me to tell you very little detail of my love life, do you?"
"Well, no," but I want you to "but, you can at least be more specific."
"Too bad, that's all you are gonna get."
"Come ooooonnnnnn, Draco, tell me more." Harry whined, making Draco snort. If there was one thing that Harry had learned about Draco, it had to be his defenselessness against whining. Information could never be pried from him by trickery or by force, but whining always did the trick.
"Alright, alright, you little whiner," Draco took a deep breath, then continued reticently, "umm, he, er, came in, and, er, kissed me in front of my friends…" Draco turned his crimson face away bashfully from Harry's penetrating gaze.
Harry was stunned for a minute, then finally managed to mutter a small "oh…". But he quickly collected himself, and said, "Damn, I should've stayed longer for the show…."
Draco scowled, "I thought you saw one this morning."
"That's true." Harry smiled, "And your friends? How are they taking the news?"
"They were shocked. Blaise tried to hex Terry into oblivion and beyond before he found out that it was, er, mutual. Pansy yelled some nonsense at me for a while, and I think Vince and Greg fainted." Draco sniggered, "And they interrogated me the whole night. I think they felt betrayed that I didn't tell them earlier."
"Why didn't you?" This had bothered Harry for a while already, since Draco and the other Slytherins seemed very close, yet he chose to keep his crush a secret.
"Because, Vince and Greg do not understand the word 'secret', even if it jumped out of Dumbledore's pants and bit them in the arse. And Pansy does not believe in secrecy, and she would get all excited and try to do everything to set me up with him, which I can do perfectly fine by myself, thank you very much. And Blaise, well, Blaise just didn't like Terry very much." Harry nodded, and Draco was eager to change the direction of their conversation, "What about you, Harry? Interested in anyone right now?"
Harry raised one eyebrow and looked over at Draco's slyly smiling face. He didn't know what possessed him, but he nodded, and blushed.
That immediately caught Draco's attention. He hadn't expect an affirmative answer when he asked the question. But, now that he had gotten his answer, he didn't know how to react, so he opted for the most appropriate, "Who?" An imaginary something was caught in his throat as he waited patiently for Harry's answer.
Harry refused to meet the curious gaze of his companion and, instead, stared at some unidentified point in front of him. He murmured a small name, "Mandy Brocklehurst."
Something must have taken control over Harry's body, because he could not have possibly said that. But, it wasn't exactly a lie. He did like the girl. She was pretty and smart, and reminded Harry somewhat of Cho, but there wasn't anything romantic about his feeling towards the girl. So why in hell did he say her name? Why did he feel he had to say someone's name? Maybe I like her more than I think. Yes, that must be it.
He risked a glance at Draco, who was rendered speechless by the revelation, and was staring at Harry intently. But he soon returned to his old self and said, "Unexpected, but not too bad a choice." Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Hey, she's a Ravenclaw, want me and Terry to arrange something for you?"
"No! Like you said, I'll do perfectly fine on my own, thank you very much." Was there some unsaid universal understanding among people who were dating to set their single friends up? Because that was exactly what Ron and Hermione had done when they first got together.
"Fine, just don't come begging for help later…"
Harry snorted, "Don't worry, you know I'll never beg you!"
"Ha," Draco smirked at Harry, "we'll see about that, Harry. I'll kick your pathetic Gryffindor arse so badly next Sunday, you'll be on your knees begging me for mercy afterwards." Next Sunday was their first Quidditch match this year.
Harry was silently glad for the change in topic of their conversation, and Quidditch was always a welcomed subject between them. They argued heatedly for a while on who was going to win the match before something suddenly occurred to Draco.
"Hey, Harry, you were raised as a muggle, do you know anything about Shakespeare?"
Harry was startled by the abruptness of the question, "The muggle playwright?" Draco nodded, "I had to read something of his at muggle school, but I don't know much about him. Why?"
"Nothing, it's just Terry seemed to be very interested in his works, and I want to know what's so fascinating about them."
Well, of course, it was about Terry again. "Well, honestly, I don't know anything about the guy, and even though I've read one or two of his works, I'm sorry to say I didn't understand it very much." He didn't want to disappoint Draco, but Harry was never much of a fan of plays or sonnets.
And neither was Draco, who let out an embarrassed chuckle and said, "Actually, me too." He paused for a second, "By the way, don't tell anyone about 'Poker Nights', especially not Terry! I don't want him to think I'm some sort of addicted gambler."
"Well, are you?"
"Of course not!" Draco replied a bit too quickly and loudly, "It's just a hobby."
"Then what's the problem. I doubt he'd mind a hobby."
"I just… don't want to scare him off. He's like this perfect person, who doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, doesn't gamble. And I don't want him to know I do all of that. I've spent too much time to obtain what I have now, and I don't want to ruin it."
Doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, doesn't gamble? That's not perfect, that's boring! "Still, you shouldn't lie to him."
"I'm not lying, I'm just not telling him yet. I'm sure I'll grow out of my drinking, smoking, gambling phase one day, and then there'll be nothing to tell." Draco said with no small amount of uncertainty.
Harry frowned. That sounded…twisted. Or, was Draco just trying to twist himself into something he was not? Harry turned to face Draco, "Draco, you don't need to change yourself to fit him, you are great the way you are. If he truly likes you, it wouldn't matter that you do all of that. He'll accept them as part of you." He looked directly into those clear mercury eyes, whose owner was staring straight back into his. "Trust his feelings, trust him, and trust yourself. Where's that overconfident, I'm-the-king-of-the-world, egotistical bastard that I used to hate?"
Draco snorted and muttered a small "thanks". But for what, Harry wasn't sure.
For a while, they just stood there motionlessly and wordlessly, the only interaction between them being the unfaltering eye contact. The moonlight fell on Draco's face, gently illuminating his hair, his eyes, his face, his everything. The sight was so magnetic that Harry found himself wanting to lean closer to the other boy, capture his soft lips and never let this breathtaking moment to end…
Harry jumped and his face paled. And the tension ceased. "I, er, think it's time to go. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye." He said in one breath and ran off, leaving Draco slightly dazed, wondering what the hell just happened.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Harry could still hear the pounding of his heart five hours after he came back to the Gryffindor tower. As he lay wide awake in the middle of the night, staring at the canopy, all he could see was a glowing silver silhouette that seemed to have burnt into his mind. He groaned, squirming in his bed. What the hell is happening to me? Why did I want to kiss him? I must be going crazy!
But the truth was so painfully obvious that it was no longer negligible. He was attracted to him. Harry Potter was attracted to Draco Malfoy! Shit!
No fucking way! I've just been spending too much time with him lately, and his gay-ness is rubbing off on me. It'll go away. I'll go back to my normal heterosexual self in no time. Don't fret, Harry. You like that Ravenclaw, remember? What's her name again? Oh, yes, Mandy Brocklehurst. In fact, you like her so much you'll ask her out tomorrow. So go to sleep now! You sexually frustrated lunatic!
And so, the hero of the wizarding world made an attempt to will himself out of the realm of homosexuality by asking the Ravenclaw girl out the next morning. He also tried to avoid spending so much time with a certain good-looking Slytherin, which wasn't very difficult since both of them had agreed to reduce the time spent on potions project, due to the need to practice Quidditch, and snog their respective lovers.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Sunday morning had the best weather for Quidditch. The sky was clear and the sun shone high. This was their last year and last chance at the Cup, and Harry was determined to win that for his house. His teammates, though, was worried that he might go soft on the Slytherin now that they were friends. Harry had to reassure them that both he and Draco loved the game too much to throw it away like that.
Approaching the changing rooms, Harry noticed Draco and Terry standing just in front of the doors. His teammates made disgusted noises when they saw their attached lips. Harry had the distinct urge to jam his broom down Terry's throat so deep that it came back out his arsehole. But his new-found violent tendency were discouraged when the head of his girlfriend suddenly popped into view.
Mandy offered him a small 'good luck' and a kiss. When their lips smashed together, a chant repeated itself in Harry's mind: You like girls, you like girls, you are not jealous of him, you like girls. Some other saner part of his mind remembered a time when he needn't remind himself that, when he had liked the taste of too much lipstick, or the smell of too much perfume, or the feel of too long hair.
Then he broke the kiss and Mandy left. Harry's attention was again tuned on Draco, who saw the kiss and frowned at the retreating back of the girl. He walked up to Harry with the Head Boy, and said in a hushed tone not meant for anyone else's ears, "You don't really like her, do you?"
"What?" Harry startled, his heartbeat quickened. Did Draco know something? "What, what are you talking about?"
"Your face. It went like this when you kissed her." Draco made a face, screwing all his features into one point as if in pain.
Harry couldn't help but snort, he had never seen a more hilariously adorable face of suffering. "Umm, I'll talk to you later, after the game." There was no way in hell he was having this conversation with him in front of the changing rooms, right before a match, and especially not with Terry around, gawking at him like the weird creep that he was.
Draco nodded and the Quiddtich players stepped into their changing rooms getting ready at the match.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Harry sat steadily on his broom, scanning the pitch for the golden thing-y. He wanted to find it and win the game and get out of there as soon as possible, because he couldn't concentrate anymore. He found himself being distracted by Draco more and more as the game went on.
The wind rushed through Draco's hair as he flew, and the sunlight was dancing off from those wavering silver strands. He was positively glowing, but unlike that night under the moon, where he was softly luminescent. Today, he was glistering blazingly.
Harry berated himself when he realized he was distracted again. Concentrate. He had promised his team that he wouldn't throw away the game, but now all he could think about was the lighting effect the sun had on his opponent, who, Harry decided then, was the more appropriate one to blame for his inability to focus on his current task. Damn him.
Suddenly, he noticed Draco shot towards the Hufflepuff stand in lightening speed. He must have spotted the snitch. Instinctively, Harry raced after him, and he saw the fleeting flash emitted from the winged ball. Everything else became a blur besides the floating snitch in front of them. He was now side by side with Draco on his right. Harry tried to push him away with his body, and positioned himself slightly in front of the other seeker, who tried to push him back with equal force, but failed. Harry was getting closer and closer, he could feel his fingertips came in contact with one of the wings….
From the corner of his eyes, Harry noticed a bludger zooming towards him from his left. With a last blast of energy and an uncharacteristic war cry, he dashed forward, grabbed the snitch by its wing, and steered upwards away from the advancing bludger.
Harry held tight to the struggling wing of the golden snitch, but he snapped his attention back to the game below when he heard a nasty cracking sound, and what he saw made his blood ran cold.
Harry had turned just in time to see Draco's body lifelessly plummeting to the ground. It took a moment for him to register the scene. Draco must have noticed the bludger a moment too late. And when he tried, unsuccessfully, to pull away from its course, it collided with his left shoulder.
Harry wasn't aware that the snitch had escaped from his loosened grip as he once again raced towards the falling blonde. He felt like his heart was going to jump out of his rib cage as he accelerated faster and faster, but he didn't care, he had to reach him….Oh God, don't let this happen, don't…
But Draco's drop was halted suddenly. His body was then slowly eased to the ground.
Harry also landed. He sprinted towards and knelt down just beside the unconscious boy. He caught a glimpse of Snape's worried face running towards them, with his wand pointing at Draco, along with Madame Pomfrey. Harry let out a breath of relief.
Draco would be safe now.
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A/N: So…? What would be next? Amnesia? Coma? Paralysis? Or,…Death? Hehe…
Once again, thanks to Andrea. If anyone else would like to beta this, leave me a message! And the most important, REVIEW!