Harry had to move quietly in order not to get caught. He wasn't supposed to be out here at all; he couldn't wait any longer, though. He needed some answers. When he arrived at the Room of Requirement, he thought of a place where he could think; a place where he would get the answers he was looking for.

Harry entered, finding himself in a room he hadn't expected. It was a bedroom, nicely furnished with four-poster, couch and writing desk. Harry went over to the couch and sat down heavily.

He knew now that all the things that had happened to him had been predictions he himself had written for his Divination homework. He and Ron had always thought of even more grotesque ways for Harry to die a nice and spectacular death, pleasing Trelawney to no end. So the first thing that had happened to him, the incident in the hallway the day before, had been a killer tomato. Harry stifled a chuckle. If it weren't so bizarre, it would be funny. Well, now he knew what happened to him, all he had to find out was why Malfoy had cast this particular spell on him...

Harry stood up again, pacing the floor in front of the couch. He couldn't tell why, but he had the indistinct feeling that Malfoy had only acted on first impulse the day before, when he'd cursed him. The Slytherin hadn't even had well formulated insults at hand to greet him. He had almost seemed - hurt? And as Harry knew all too well, if Malfoy was hurt, the boy lashed out at everything in his way. But Harry hadn't done anything to Malfoy, had he?

Harry stopped his pacing long enough to sit down at the desk, tapping his fingers on the wood. Malfoy had said something about the love letter Harry'd gotten, and then all hell broke loose. What had he said?

What is it? Recognized the voice and not happy with it?

What was that supposed to mean?

Harry went to look through the drawers in the desk for some parchment. He needed a list, and a mental one wouldn't be much help at the moment. Even as Harry thought it, he realised that he shouldn't need to search the desk. But there wasn't any parchment. Not on the desk, neither in his hand or anywhere else.

'Odd,' Harry thought, but didn't think this could be too important. He went back to the drawers, finally finding what he was looking for. However, the parchment was not blank. There was a poem on it - well, it did rhyme at least, however horribly. Harry's eyes widened as he recognised the words as the text his love letter had contained.

Just as Harry thought about the implications, the door to the bedroom swung open, and Draco Malfoy entered. The blond stopped dead in his tracks when he caught sight of Harry, then his eyes widened as he realised that the other boy was holding the parchment.

"What are you doing here, Potter?" he asked, trying to sound commanding, but barely managing not to turn around and flee again.

Harry hardly noticed. "What are you doing in the Room of Requirement?" he asked his own question.

"The Room of what?" Draco said. "This is my room. What are you doing here? And how did you get past the wards?"

"Your room?" Harry repeated. "No, that's impossible. I went into the Room of Requirement, thinking of a place to think, a place to find..." he trailed off. Harry remembered. He had been thinking of a place to find answers. And he had found them. Here, in these rooms. In Draco Malfoy's rooms.

"What - what are you doing there with that parchment?" Draco asked, trying to sound like he hadn't ever seen the letter before. "Don't bring your garbage into my room, Potter. And now-"

"No," Harry cut him off, suddenly realising what it all meant. Draco had sent him the letter last morning. He'd confessed his feelings, however peculiar. And then he'd wanted to know how Harry had taken it, and the Gryffindor had lashed out at him for no other reason than being grumpy. "I'm sorry."

"What?" Draco was thrown off-guard by the sudden change of situation. "You're sorry because you've broken into my rooms, or what?"

"No," Harry said softly, walking over to Draco, whose eyes grew again. "I'm sorry for being such an idiot yesterday..."

"Yeah, well," Draco said awkwardly, fidgeting and intending not to show any weakness by retreating back. "Glad you finally came to the realisation."

Harry laughed. He was now right in front of Draco, who looked vaguely panicked. "You know, I just realised something..." he said. Draco's gaze jerked down to the letter still in Harry's hand.

"Mirrors don't always tell the truth," the Gryffindor said, referring to the last day when his mirror had said that he was unloved, and Draco relaxed again - but only temporarily. "And I realised that it was you sending me the letter..."

"What - what letter?" Draco spluttered, momentarily forgetting everything he knew about perfect deceiving. "I didn't send you any letter!"

"I love you, too," Harry said simply, embracing a stiff Draco. "I hope we see eye to eye that we're now together?"

"Eh," was the most intelligent answer Draco could come up with. Here he was, in the arms of the boy he had secretly longed for since he was eleven, and he couldn't even say a simple three lettered word like 'yes'.

Harry came to his rescue. "I'll take that as a yes, all right?"

"Uh-huh," Draco managed this time. Slowly, he relaxed into Harry's embrace. It felt wonderful.

"So," Harry said slowly. "Wanna tell me which spell you used on me?"

Draco smiled sheepishly. "No idea," he said. "I just said a few syllables, and it worked. I only said it wasn't dangerous, because that was the only thing I knew for sure. I didn't put much force into the spell. I didn't think there'd be any reaction. I just wanted to - eh - scare you a bit..." He looked apologetic, squeezing Harry once. "Why? What did the spell do? I just heard that something happened today in the Great Hall, but I'm not sure what."

"Well, the spell seems to make the predictions I made in Divination true," Harry said. "I mostly wrote something about being killed while eating, or being rolled over by a killer tomato."

Draco blanched. "Killer tomato?" he repeated faintly. "You're not - uh - injured or anything, are you?"

"No," Harry smiled. "I think I already experienced all my predictions... We didn't get that much homework... No, wait, there's one left..."

"And what's that?" Draco asked.

A small smile grazed Harry's lips. "Oh, I predicted that I'd - I'd get together with Draco Malfoy."

"Really?" Draco asked. "But, are we now together because we want to, or because the spell made us?"

"Only one way to be sure..." Harry said, leaning closer until his mouth hovered over Draco's. "I predicted that after our first kiss, I'd die of shock..." Then he locked his lips with Draco's entirely, kissing his new boyfriend sweetly.

Harry felt distinctly dizzy, but he didn't die. Thank Merlin.

End-