Title: Clear

Chapter 4: Chipper

Pairing: Harry/Draco

Rating: R for slash themes

**WARNING**: THIS STORY CONTAINS SLASH THEMES – WHICH MEANS HOMOSEXUAL RELATIONSHIPS BETWEEN TWO MALE CHARACTERS. YOU ARE ADVISED TO LEAVE IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THIS.

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story do not belong to me, but to the Harry Potter series by JK Rowling. This is all FICTION; none of it is true. No profit was made from this story. I bear no responsibility for anything you may claim from this story, you have been warned.

LAST WARNING. SLASH. HOMOSEXUALITY. LEAVE IF YOU DON'T LIKE.

Notes: Thank you (again!) to the reviewers, it means so much to me! It's fun writing, but it's even more fun to know people read them! I'm so happy…tomorrow's my last exam, I got wonderful reviews and WAS it Harry with Ginny in the Tower? Hmmm…no idea! Happy Reading! And by the way, Draco gets piss-ass drunk. Heeheehee…Much thanks to May, the very evil bunny, ClarKeRaVen, alistar, Evil Laughter, efa, Summer, Anne Phoenix, Lady Malfoy II, someone who's too lazy to login, Heavens_beyond, GlacierFlame, bondagechic, IncubusSuccubus, in-a-crushd-tin-box, Patchfire, and Marionette!     

I changed this chapter!!!!! Just corrected the vodka error that everyone noticed.

***

Harry bounded down to the Great Hall, smiling cheerfully at everyone, waving occasionally, chirping a "Hi! Morning!" every now and then, and being all-round happy. Ron stalked next to him, eyelids still heavy with sleep, grunting at those who spoke to him, and throwing Harry a suspicious look every now and then. Harry wasn't usually much better than Ron at six thirty in the morning.

The dawn of the new day had seen Ron's covers being thrown off with a strangely awake Harry Potter going, "GOOD MORNING RON! Wake up! It's SIX O' CLOCK ALREADY!" Said Weasley had then been dragged off to the bathroom and similarly dragged through the halls towards their ultimate goal – breakfast. He also had some toothpaste foam still stuck to his face, he felt grimy from his half-shower (if almost drowning yourself counted), his hair was sticking up in bunches and his robe was on backwards. And was that stubble he felt on his face? Harry, on the other hand, had clear skin, a bright smile, wide eyes, and lacking the bed-ridden look that usually ruffled him considerably in the mornings

Something was up.

"Good MORNING, Hermione!" Harry pulled Ron down into the seat next to him. "Wonderful day today, isn't it?"

Hermione, who had been studying, looked up from an enormous tome. "I suppose so. Good mood today, Harry?"

"Not really!" he twittered. "It's just such a nice morning, don't you think?"

"Mm. Yeah?" She tossed Ron a Look. Who returned it with a Look of his own and gestured to his garb. Hermione gave a tiny nod and turned back to Harry, who was currently stuffing his face none too elegantly.

"So. I guess your walk in the gardens last night really did help you sleep?"

"Yup!"

"I heard a rumor that Pansy and Malfoy were there as well."

Harry paused, before continuing to cram food into his mouth. "Yeah."

"No duel, name calling, hexing, or slaughters of any kind?"

"Mm. No. We had a tiny conversation and then I left."

Hermione and Ron exchanged a meaningful look. "Oh," was all she said. "So…Pansy and Malfoy were there, you three talked a bit, and then you left?"

A slight hesitation, and then, "Not really. I was there, Malfoy came, Pansy came, Pansy left, and I talked with Malfoy and then I left."

"O-oh."

"Mhm."

It still didn't explain anything. And Hermione Granger always got an answer with a full, clear, descriptive explanation. "Nice…Harry, are you feeling alright? You don't have to eat so quickly you know. Breakfast is until eight thirty. You have another two hours."

Was he on drugs? Good Lord, what if someone really did give him some sort of…after-school special type of…pill? How long had he been taking it? Should she bring him to Madame Pomfrey? She should tell an adult she trusts. Oook, Professor McGonagall, then? Or perhaps the Headmaster? Would they have to send him away for detox? What if he gets back on drugs after the detox? Will it affect his NEWTs? What about his career? His future family life? Will he be destined to be a druggie while his wife is wailing at home, pregnant and trying to feed a dozen hungry children?

And most importantly, were points going to be taken away from Gryffindor?

"Yup! Feeling great. Hey, you know Malfoy and Pansy aren't dating after all? And after their PDA's I'd think they were engaged."

Hermione and Ron exchanged a LOOK. Oh. Oh. "Uh, Harry, didn't you know?"

"Know what?" Still blissfully eating his twentieth pancake.

Hermione glared at Ron, who quickly swallowed his mouthful and went, "Well, Harry…didn't you know?"

"Know what?" The three of them stopped and stared at each other. Ron was trying to broadcast messages to Hermione with his non-existent telepathic skills.

You tell. No, YOU tell. I'M not telling, YOU tell!

Hermione glared and slit her finger across her throat as a threat. Ron gulped and turned to Harry. "OK, Harry, I realize that Muggles are different to wizards. But we're also different in…other…ways as well, you know that?"

Harry gave him a strange look. "What do you mean, Ron?"

It was time to break it to Harry about the wizarding birds and bees. And Ron was the chosen one to do it. "Well, remember I told you once, a long, long time ago, that if wizarding-folk hadn't married Muggles we'd have died out?"

"Yeah, so?"

"And, well, have you ever wondered why we'd have died out otherwise?"

"Was I supposed to know? Crap, was it supposed to be part of the essay for History of Magic? I knew I forgot something!"

"No, it's not that," Ron said, now blushing.

Hermione couldn't stand it any longer. "Goodness, Harry, anyone would think you just found out about our kind. We would have died out because most wizards are gay and bisexual, therefore unable to reproduce in a homosexual relationship, therefore diminishing the wizarding population!"

"Oh." Harry frowned. "So what does that have to do with Pansy and Malfoy?"

Hermione groaned and fought the urge to hit her head against the table. Ron cleared his throat. "Harry, haven't you seen that ring that Malfoy tends to wear? You know, on a chain round his neck?"

"What, you mean that silvery thing?"

"Yes, his silver ring. So you have seen it before, right?" She was this close to tearing her hair out if he still didn't get it.

"Well of course." Harry rolled his eyes. "It's kinda obvious. Really nice, though, you know?"

Ron made a face. -_- "Haven't you seen Bill with it? Or Fred and George?"

Harry pondered. "Well," he said slowly. "I saw it, but it never really occurred to me. What does that have to do with…oh. Oh. Oh."

"Yes, Harry. Oh." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Took you long enough."

"So…" said Harry, rather speechless. "Malfoy. He…likes boys too?"

Hermione looked heavenward and sighed. Deeply. "Yes, Harry. Malfoy likes boys, too."

"Oh!" Harry's face brightened visibly and he resumed eating his breakfast with even more vigor than before.

"Harry." She and Ron exchanged one last Look. "You wear the ring if you're attached to someone, another boy."

A clatter, and Harry's fork fell to his plate. He looked at her, bewildered, shock evident in his eyes. "Hermione." His voice came out strangled, strange, and did not sound like his own. She was looking at him with an unreadable expression on her face.

"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have – " He cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"Ron? Is it true?"

The tips of Ron's ears were turning pink, and he coughed uneasily. "Um. Usually they wear the ring on their right pinkie when they're with someone…I don't even need to tell you what they wear when they're partnered for life, but…I don't know, Harry, he wears it on his neck, maybe he's just trying to tell people that he's…you know…"

"I can't believe it," Harry whispered, and got up to leave the table. His throat seemed to clench up and he was starting to feel the effects of the huge breakfast he ate. He wasn't going to throw up, no, but the sickening, full feeling was enough to make him want to stick two fingers down his throat and be done with it.

Ron turned to Hermione, worried. "I don't get it. What's wrong with Harry?"

Hermione glared at him. "Boys." But the two of them knew to remain where they were and let Harry go.

Harry walked slowly out of the Great Hall, head down, shoulders slumped. As he reached the double door entrance, he saw a pair of shiny black shoes.

"Potter."

That sick feeling came to him anew. Add that to increased heart rate and injection of adrenaline into his blood, and it was enough to make him feel light headed, as if about to collapse.

"Malfoy," he murmured softly, and as he sidestepped to pass, he saw the silver ring, dangling on a chain around Malfoy's neck.

The other boy only turned to watch him go, an odd light in his silver eyes.

***

Draco was one of those people that sobered up when buzzed or high. Especially drunk. His mind was usually so full of thoughts, so fast, thinking so much – too much – that when he was inebriated and the thoughts were slowed down, did he really sober up. And he was one of those annoying people that remained sober until their very end point, as in the second to last drink before they passed out.

So here he was, sitting cross-legged on his bed, staring up at his canopy, surrounded by bottles of liquor. He didn't finish them all, oh no, but rather drank from all of them, and as the common knowledge is that mixing liquor increases the rate at which one reaches drunkenness, he was, to put it simply, completely smashed. He gathered his bottles close to him, hugging them close as one would hug a favorite stuffed animal. They were his favorite stuffed animals, in a way. They made him forget his troubles, they made him feel happy and young, they listened to him talk, and they were just what he needed.

Picking a square bottle, he held the label close to his face. "Vod. Ka," he said slowly, slurring slightly. "Vod. Ka. Vod-Ka. Vod-ka. Vodka. Vodka." He nodded to himself. "Yup." Twisting the cap, he let the flames pass from the bottle to lick at his lips, his mouth, his throat, and then down in a trail to burn in his stomach. It made him feel warm inside. Like your favorite stuffed animal does. Draco snuggled this particular bottle. "You're my favorite. You burn the hottest inside me." He held the bottle at arm's length, regarding it solemnly.

"I should get over it, shouldn't I? He'll never like someone like me. Hell, he'll never even want to be friends with someone like me. Get over it, and be a Malfoy. He's with that fucking Weasley chick, he's probably fucking her as we speak. It's no use how angry or how mad or how frustrated I get because he's with her…"

Another sip of that, plus a mix of tequila, put him completely over the edge and he lost his sobriety and giggled, softly, once, before passing out in a dead faint, words half-formed on his lips, but not spoken yet.

To Be Continued…!