Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all associated characters/places are the sole property of J.K. Rowling, I think. I don't really know. All I do know is that it's not mine.
Oh, These SituationsA One-Shot
Really, how do I get into these situations? Having to make a decision that will determine how I spend the rest of my life, that will make or break my reputation, and to do it on a bloody GAME SHOW? Again I ask, how do I get into these situations?
Well, I guess it started last week when my girlfriend of six years, Pansy Parkinson, found me in a, erm, compromising position with Harry Potter.
No, it started before that. Two weeks before that, in the common room. IT was the end of winter, one of the last cold, soggy days before the sky opened up to allow spring to take hold. I had been taking an afternoon nap in an armchair by the fire when I was suddenly struck, in unconsciousness as I was, by a rather vivid, rather erotic dream involving myself and a certain raven-haired, green-eyed boy wonder.
This was by no means the first of these slumber-derived fantasies, but it was the first time I got caught. Apparently, I had started perspiring slightly and moaning and squirming a bit in my chair. Pansy, who was thankfully the only one still in the room (everybody else had gone to dinner), thought I was having a nightmare or something of the sort and began petting my head (which did not at all help, if you catch my meaning) and otherwise comforting me. That is, she did this until I began talking. Well, not so much talking as saying Harry's name in such a way that it was clear to Pansy that I was not, in fact, having a nightmare.
She was shocked, I'm sure. So shocked that, after a moment of stunned inaction, she summoned a bucket of water and dumped its icy contents on me. I was on my feet in an instant, blinking and looking around in shock and confusion.
Pansy stood glaring at me, arms crossed, eyes gleaming frightfully. I thought at that moment that I was as good as in my premature coffin. She started screaming then, exactly what, I'm not quite sure, but her message was clear and she was screaming long and loud. I could just stand there, neither cowering nor retaliating with a scathing flick of my well-practiced tongue. Just stand there, gazing at her, until she whirled around and stomped out of the common room.
"Well," I thought bitterly. "I guess that's the price to pay for not telling anybody that you're bi-sexual and have a terribly powerful infatuation with your most hated enemy."
The next few days were spent trying to convince Pansy to listen to my explanation, to no avail. She kept herself iced from me; giving me the cold shoulder or turning icy glares my way in classes. I wasn't too much bothered. I figured things would go back to normal after a little while of this. Yes, things would go back to normal: she and I would go back to being a loving, if not somewhat infamous, couple, and Harry Potter and I would continue being hated foes.
I was only half right.
After four days of Pansy's ignoring me, as I sat in a particularly monotonous double Charms, a note folded cleverly into the shape of a thundercloud with a bolt of lightning sticking pointedly out the bottom floated over to me and landed delicately on my desk. I looked Pansy, who was sitting at the opposite end of the room; she was reading from her textbook so no eye contact was made. I opened the note and read:
Draco-I am so ashamed of how I've acted towards you. I really wish that we could start over and be friends. Actually, I'd like to be more than friends with you, but I understand if you don't feel the same. Please meet me tonight at eight-thirty in the Astronomy Tower. I'll bring the whipped cream.
See you then.
P.S. Sniff the parchment if you've read this far.
Hesitantly, but not wanting to do anything to make Pansy mad, I brought the letter up to my nose and inhaled. I didn't smell anything unusual, just the normal scent of drying ink.
A fierce giggle erupted from somewhere behind me. I turned to see the mud-blood Granger covering her mouth with both hands and shaking with uncontrollable laughter. The ugly redhead beside her was staring at her in obvious confusion. On her other side, Harry was looking pointedly into his textbook, reading as if he hadn't heard the shriek. I turned away.
"Damn!" I thought. "I must have looked like such a fool smelling a bloody piece of parchment."
That night at quarter to eight, I sneaked out of the common room. Pansy had been reading at a table near the back of the room, avoiding looking at me. I had decided to leave so early for two reasons: one, so Pansy wouldn't have to pass me to leave, and two, so that I could go down to the kitchens to grab some early-season strawberries to go with the whipped cream. I figured I could score a few bonus points by doing something a little extra.
I got to the base of the Astronomy Tower forty minutes later, with five minutes to spare. I assumed Pansy would already be there, so I started ascending the steep spiral staircase. I got to the top panting slightly, the small wicker basket of fruit clutched in my right hand. I looked around the room, expecting to see Pansy sitting against a wall or standing at a telescope. But the stone-walled circular room was empty.
Slightly baffled at her apparent tardiness, I walked to the painted wooden bench and sat down. It was odd that Pansy wasn't there yet. I was sure that she would have made sure she would be the first one at the top of the tower, to set the sentiment to one where she was in power. But I was a lone. Or I sincerely thought I was.
Which was why when I heard a voice from beside me, I nearly fell off the bench. "Strawberries. Nice touch, Draco."
I jumped off the bench, staring at the figure of Harry Potter pulling an invisibility cloak off himself. He was holding a vat of whipped cream.
"Don't look so surprised, Draco," he said, standing up.
I took a step back, reaching for my wand. "And why shouldn't I be surprised?"
"Good point. I guess you can look surprised." He sat the whipped cream down next to the basket of strawberries.
"Tarantallegra!"
"Protego! Expelliarmus!"
My wand flew from my hand and whizzed down the stairwell. I tried not to appear scared as I looked at Harry.
"Please, let me explain," he said, sitting back down and moving the food to the floor. He offered the seat to me, but I shook my head.
"You sent me that note," I said, realization finally sinking painfully in.
"Yes."
"I thought it was from Pansy."
"Alright."
I sank down onto the bench. "That was really from you?"
He faced me. "Yes."
"Why?"
He looked at me quizzically. "Why what? Why did I send the note?" I nodded. "I finally got the brains and the guts to."
We sat in silence for a while. Then--
"How did you know I wasn't going to kill you?
Harry smiled mischievously. "I got some help. You remember smelling the letter? That was to smell my scent." I felt a small amount of heat rise to my face. "If you reciprocated the felling of the letter, nothing would happen. If you didn't, you would have fallen asleep or something, and forgotten about the letter. Technically, you don't have to smell it like that, since the scent, subtle as it is, could be noticed, not consciously, though. But Hermione thought we should be on the safe side and, you know."
"Oh." Wait a moment. "What do you mean, 'reciprocate the feeling'?" I blushed, despite myself.
Harry blushed too. "Er, well…"
"Are you to tell me that by smelling that note, I supposedly told you I wanted to be 'more than friends' with you?"
He smiled weakly. "Only if the spell was done right."
"Little Miss Perfect Student did it, didn't she?"
"Yeah."
"Then I guess it was done right."
He stared at me. "Er, what?"
"I said, 'I guess it's right, then'."
"Then…does that mean…?"
I took the cover off the vat of whipped cream to swirl a strawberry in its contents. "First, tell me this: Is what you said in the letter how you really feel?"
He nodded solemnly. "Written from the depths of my heart."
I brought the white fruit to my lips, then stopped. "Then I think we should start over." I held out my hand. "Draco Malfoy, sinister Slytherin extraordinaire."
He smiled and took my hand. "Harry Potter, boy who lived, chosen one, and normal teenager. Nice to finally meet you."
We shook. I took a bite of my strawberry, enjoying its succulent sweet pleasure with closed eyes for effect. I offered out the rest of the strawberry, saying, "May I tempt you?"
"When don't you?" he murmured, lunging at me.
The next forty minutes were lost to the hormonal joys of adolescence, the partaking of the early fruit.
That was how my relationship with Harry Potter began. Throughout the next week, as Pansy slowly defrosted, Harry and I met in secret, mostly in the dead of night when it easiest to go unnoticed. Sometimes we would meet in an empty classroom, or in the Room of Requirement, or, once, in the bathroom. We didn't just snog, mind you, though that might have come up once or twice. We spent a great deal of time talking, getting to know each other in ways we never would have been able to as enemies. Pasts were told of, secrets and hidden desires unveiled. We even had a row in the silenced Room of Requirement, about whether or not it was all right for Harry to have told Hermione about us. But that didn't last very long.
By the end of the first week, I could say, without a moment's hesitation or doubt, that Harry was the best friend I had ever had. I could be completely open with him, even if I wasn't always; pride is a curse hard lifted.
I almost envied him for not feeling the same way about me. About being the closest friend ever had, that is. He had two best friends that he'd known a lot longer than me. He'd undoubtedly had nightlong conversations with them as well, and they'd never been his enemy. I'd never had a really good friend, not really. Crabbe and Goyle were bodyguards, followers, nothing more. Zabini? What kind of relationship is that? I mean, we hate each other as much as, well, Harry and I used to.
Pansy was my closest friend before Harry. A friend, but not a close one. I had never felt close to her, like I could say anything, or hear anything, and it wouldn't change anything between us. I loved her dearly, but she was just a girlfriend.
At the end of the first week of our hidden relationship, Pansy came back. She woke me up with breakfast on a tray, sitting on the edge of my bed with a sad, almost forlorn look on her pretty features.
"I'm sorry," she said. "About being so stupid. Can we talk about it?"
We talked. I explained about my sexuality, and my dream of Harry Potter. I told her that I also had dreams of her, refraining from telling her that all that had happened in this dream was someone turning her into a toad. She asked who I liked more, Harry or herself.
I hesitated. "Well, if Potter jumped into my arms and proclaimed his undying love for me, I wouldn't dump you, if that's what you mean."
She was satisfied with that; she had never been the brightest girl in Hogwarts.
Soon, the entire school knew we were back together. Harry glared at me with confusion evident behind his darkened eyes from across the room. I tried to say 'I'm sorry' in the way I looked back, but he just turned away.
Life really hates me. I can't make one person happy without hurting another. Harry avoided me that day. When I cornered him before dinner that night and asked why he had to be so cold, he answered that he didn't mean to be, that some things had come up. Then he pushed away from me and strode off.
Thing had come up my ass! (Whoa, the ways that could be interpreted would scare many a sane person.) But when he still hadn't spoken to me willingly by the end of the next day, I began to get desperate. So I did the only thing I could think of to do.
I went to Hermione Granger.
She was in the library, studying from a book so large I doubted she could have lifted it on her own. I hesitantly walked to her and sat uncomfortably down across the table. She looked up.
"Um, excuse me. Who are you?"
I adjusted the huge hood of my altered winter cloak for the umpteenth time, putting my face further into shadow. I hissed, "It's Draco Malfoy, you stupid girl! I need your help."
She looked surprised for a moment, then turned back to her book. "That's the way to do it, I'm sure. Insult, and then ask for something. I don't think I can help."
I growled a sigh. "Fine. I'm. Sorry. Will. You. PLEASE. Help. Me.?"
She looked up again, stony faced. Then she softened. "Fine. What do you want?"
"It's about Harry."
"I guessed that. What about him?"
"I love him."
Cleary, this was not what she had been expecting. "What?"
"I love him. With all of my being, I love him. I can't stand him being mad at me, when I am trying my hardest to be a good person. I'm not trying to hurt him. I love him so much, it's painful to be away from him, even for a night. When I'm with him, I feel right, like the lost piece of my puzzle has finally been pushed into place. But he won't listen to me when I try to explain to him what's happened. It's not what it seems to be, I swear it! Please, please, I'm begging you to help me! I-I don't know what to do without him." I dropped my head shamefully onto my head. It was the first time I had allowed myself to hear those words.
She stared at me. "What a change. You are not the same person from before. You…. Come. I'll take you to him." She stood quickly up, grabbing my hand and pulling my after her. I was whisked along corridors and passageways, around corners and statues, yanked up flights of stairs until, panting and messaging my wrist, I was freed in front of an ugly painting of a amazingly round lady in pale pink evening robes. She looked me up and down reproachfully.
"Password?"
"Just a moment," Granger shushed her. Then, turning to me, she muttered, "Make you a bit more presentable." She drew her wand out of her pocket, pointed it at me and said, "Novamarium."
I looked down at my robes. They now had subtle outlines of red and gold, replacing the green and silver that had adorned it before.
"What the hell did you do?" I screamed.
"You would stand out too much with those colors. They'd clash horribly with the common room. Now come on!"
She told the password to the Fat Lady, who swung her portrait open, and we went in.
The Gryffindor Common Room was much brighter than the Slytherin one. The walls weren't cold stone, for one, and the red and gold were much more summery than the colors I was used to, which reminded me of how dreary life really was. I liked it.
"Come on, don't just stand there like the daft fool you are, come with me," she grabbed my wrist again and pulled me to the stairs at the back of the room. A few pairs of eyes followed us skeptically, or perhaps just questioningly, and I was glad to leave them for the safe-ground of the stairs. A boy was going down, and he spoke to the girl as he passed. "What are you doing, Hermione?"
"Nothing, Seamus. Is Harry alone in the dormitory?"
"Neville and Ron are there too. Who is this, Hermione? What's going on?"
She muttered an "I can't tell you" and pulled me up the rest of the way. She turned to me. "Don't say anything until the others are gone." Then she turned to the door and knocked. "Are you all decent in there? Is it safe for a girl to come in?"
Before she got an answer, she pushed the door open.
"I'm terribly sorry for intruding," she said to the surprised occupants of the room, while I hid from view. "But I need you two to leave for a bit. You and Ron, Neville. If you'd be so kind."
"What's this, we're being kicked from our own dormitory?" Harry's other friend, Ron Weasley said spitefully.
"Please Ron, I'll explain later."
"Oh all right. Shall you go then, Neville?"
There was the sound of people getting off their beds and walking to the door. Two boys passed me, starting when they saw me. Longbottom continued down the stairs, but Weasley waited, eyeing me, for Granger to come out as well. She smiled at me as she passed and motioned with her head that I should go in.
Harry was looking at the doorway confusedly until I came in. Then he looked at me confusedly. "What the—"
I dropped my hood. "I asked for Granger's help to see you, since you've been ignoring me for the past couple of days."
He sat up on his bed. "Her name's Hermione, not Granger. Don't call her that, it's insulting."
I sighed. "Alright, Hermione. I asked for her help, and she brought me here. Will you talk to me?"
"What choice do I have? You've already invited yourself in, why don't you take off your big winter cloak and have a seat." He glared at me.
"Harry, you have to understand. I've known Pansy for years, and she's my friend. I'm not dating her, but I'm not not dating her either, do you understand?"
"Of course not, that makes no sense. Care to explain it again?"
I took off my cloak and set it on the back of a chair next to Harry's bed and sat down. "Look at it this way. She knows that I like you, she found out by accident, and if I ended my relationship with her, she'd know something was going on and tell my father. This way nobody knows and we can continue to be together." I sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I don't know what else to do."
He stood up and started yelling at me. "Why can't we tell everybody about us? Why can't we tell anybody about us! You got mad when I told Hermione, and she's my best friend! Why can't we announce it to the whole school? To the whole wizarding world? Are you ashamed to be seen with me? Are you embarrassed? A Malfoy and stupid little Harry Potter, they can't be friends, can they! No certainly not, that would be unthinkable! Oh why don't you just lock me in your trunk and throw away the bloody key, then nobody will find me!"
He stood above me, seething, jaw and fists clenched, breathing harder than he should have been for emotion. "Harry?" I whispered. "Harry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
He looked startled. "What did you just say?"
"I'm sorry. I really am."
Harry stood there for a moment, looking into my eyes. Then he sat back down onto his bed, face in hands, and started laughing, softly. Now I was confused. "Harry?"
He looked up. He was laughing and crying at the same time. Tears rolled down the sides of his face. "Harry, what--?"
"I'm so bloody daft," he said. "I'm sorry, Draco. This whole thing is my fault. I shouldn't have ignored you like that. I knew you would never do anything to harm me. Can you ever forgive me?"
"Um, sure?" What else could I say?
"Good. Look, I know you could never tell anyone, and I know why. The same reason I don't go down to the common room right now and snog you on the spot. Nobody would get it. People fear what's different, and this is not the average relationship."
It most certainly wasn't. "Um, Harry? Does this mean you're not mad at me anymore?"
He chuckled. "No, Draco, I'm not."
"Then can we make out now?"
Things were much better between us, even compared to our first few days together. We had had our first real fight, though to this day I'm not entirely sure what it was about, and our relationship flourished because of it. I stayed with Harry until ten-thirty, when the other occupants of the room demanded they be let in for the night, and we met before breakfast in an unused classroom on the third floor. And we met again during lunch in another room, this time in the dungeons. When I got there, he was already there.
"About time. Did you get it?"
"I've got it, keep your pants on. Wait, on second thought…"
"Ha ha. Come on, lunch is only an hour long."
"Fine. Here it is."
I pulled a small bottle out of my pocket and tossed it to Harry. He caught it and eagerly opened it, sticking a finger in swirling it around. He licked the finger clean.
I rolled my eyes. "Geez, Potter. Who would have known the great boy wonder would have such a fetish for chocolate."
He ignored me and ate another finger-full of the stuff. I walked over to him and took the bottle back from him. He gazed at me, as I set the bottle down on the edge of the teacher's desk.
"Here," I said, pushing him into a sitting position onto the desk. I leaned forward and kissed him, my hands almost immediately reaching for the top button of his shirt. I quickly got him out of that pesky interference, and reached for the chocolate, but he pushed me away.
"Hey, it's no fair if you get to lick it off me. I want the chocolate, so let's reverse the rolls, shall we?"
Hey, who was I to argue? Soon, I was on my back on the desk, chocolate sauce covered, I must admit, sensually on my torso, Harry leering seductively over me, his fingers running over my chest, smearing the sauce everywhere.
The door slammed open.
A girl screamed.
Harry and I couldn't move; we were deer in the headlights, or so the expression goes.
Pansy stood livid in the doorframe, eyes practically red with rage, short hair, well, the word bristling comes to mind. "Draco! What the HELL is going on!"
I regained the ability to speak. "Pansy! It's not what it looks like!" I was suddenly painfully aware that I was beneath Harry.
Her voice raised an octave. "Then what exactly am I looking at, if it's not what it looks like!"
Had me there. "Uh…"
"And you," she turned on Harry, who was still leaning stunned over me. "What are you doing with my boyfriend? Did you think I'd be okay with this? WELL, I'M NOT OKAY WITH THIS!"
Harry stood up, allowing me to get up as well. "I'm sorry, but I was just borrowing him. When I'm done, I promise I'll give him back." Oh, I could kill him for that tone. He was having fun with this!
She didn't seem to know what to say. After a moment of glaring at us both, she stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
Harry chuckle. "Feisty little girl, that one."
"Harry!"
He handed me my shirt, grabbing his as well and pulling it on. "Come on, we have to get out of here. Someone will have heard her scream."
I cleaned myself off with a wave of my wand and yanked on my shirt. Harry shook his head teasingly, saying, "Geez, that girl sure knows how to harsh a boner."
"Harry!"
And that was that. I didn't see Pansy for the rest of the day, neither in classes nor at mealtime. The next day, I learned why.
At breakfast, Dumbledore stood up. The hall was filled with whispers. Announcements were odd this time of the year, what was going on?
"Students, I have an announcement to make. Next Wednesday, we will play host to some very special guests. The hosts of the radio game show Charmed Love will be here, recording an episode for their show. Fourth years and up will be the acting audience. The participants of the show will be announced that morning. If you have any questions, please see your Head of House."
For the next week, Hogwarts was all a-buzz with excitement. Everybody couldn't wait to see who the lucky contestants would be. Harry and I thought we would be sick.
The following Wednesday, I went down to breakfast to find a dozen or so men milling around the Great Hall, taking measurements of this or that, or talking to various students or teachers. When I walked in, a short, balding man in loud green robes bustled up to me. "Are you Draco Malfoy?" he asked in a hushed voice, as if he didn't want to be heard.
I sneered, my autopilot attitude starting up. "Of course I am, who else would I be?"
The man went on. "Good. Congratulations! You've been chosen to be the main contestant on our show, Charmed Love! Let me introduce myself, I'm the host, Stephen Tippler. We're going to be running through the whole thing this evening, before the actual recording. I've got a note here from Dumbledore, getting you out of class, if you could come down to the Great Hall, that'd be fine!"
He shoved a folded piece of parchment into my hand and moved quickly away. I glanced at Harry, who was grinning at me unhappily. I began my new mantra: How do I end up in these situations?
That night:
I sat on a stool on a raised platform behind a large purple curtain. The sound of hundreds of students-turned-audience talking about as loudly as they could rang in my ears, grated on my nerves. I was so nervous, I didn't think I was going to be able to bear it much longer. Just sitting here, waiting for my eminent doom. The man had run me through the whole thing, just like he said, and now I knew I was completely and utterly dead.
Harry and Pansy sat behind another curtain, separated from me by a partition. They were probably on similar, equally uncomfortable stools. Probably just as nervous. At least Harry would be, I don't know about Pansy. She might be enjoying this.
Finally, the voices from the other side of the curtain grew quiet. The host's voice came, from somewhere near me, loud and reverberating in the large room.
"Hello, and welcome to tonight's show on Charmed Love! I'm your host, Stephen Tippler! We're here at Hogwarts tonight for a special episode of teen love!" There was applause. "For all you new listeners, and a few of you old ones, Charmed Love is the show that shows you who you're meant to be with by reminding you of the good times, and sometimes the not-so-good times, that you've had with those competing for your affection. One lucky person will get to decide who they want to be with for the rest of their lives, or just for now! Now let's get started!" Deafening applause.
"Let's bring out our main contestant! He's sixteen years old, five foot ten, has blond hair and gray eyes, and is Seeker of the Slytherin Quidditch team! Here he is, Draco Malfoy!" The curtain vanished and all eyes were on me. A dream of mine for years, now completely unwanted. I tried to smile and wave, but I'm not sure I succeeded.
The host took control again. "And now let's bring out the two rivaling teams competing for the young man's heart! In one seat, his girl friend of six years, fellow Slytherin, dark-haired beauty Pansy Parkinson! And in the other seat, his long-time rival, Gryffindor Quidditch Captain and Seeker, the famous, and devilishly handsome, Harry Potter!" The crowd murmured and clapped. Harry Potter? No, that can't be right.
"Alright, let's start out with introductions." The short man came over to me. "Tell the listeners a little about yourself, why don't you, Draco?"
I cleared my throat. "Well, I had had a little speech thought out, but I think you pretty much covered it in your shortened version of things."
"Isn't he a charmer? Alright, then I'm going to skip over and talk to the lady and gentleman over there, then, if you don't mind." And that's exactly what he did. The crowd howled with laughter.
"Pansy, Harry, what exactly is your relationship with Mr. Malfoy?"
Pansy was first. "Well, as you said, he's been my boy-friend for the past six years. It's been a good relationship, I'd say. We've never fought that much, and are parents are very happy with us. We're one of the famous couples of Hogwarts; everybody knows us."
And then I heard Harry, who sounded most decidedly nervous, but was doing quite a good job at covering it up. Actually, only those who really knew him might say he sounded anxious. "On the first day of our first year, I met him on the train. It was only a month after I had been told I was a wizard, so all of this was very knew to me, and more than a little intimidating. I was sharing the compartment on the train with a student I had just met, who wasn't so… well bred as Malfoy. When Draco introduced himself, he insulted my new friend's family. I stood up for this person, and we've been enemies ever since."
"Well, then why are you here competing for his heart?" asked Stephen Tippler, a little nervous, most likely with the thought that his show wouldn't make much sense if one of the contestants wasn't meant to be there.
"Because I didn't tell you the whole story," he said. "I wasn't sure if I should, but the cat's pretty much out of the bag now, wouldn't you say?" He chuckled dryly. I imagined him shooting Pansy a nasty look.
He continued. "Well, since you just asked for a simple answer to the relationship question and I've already given you a speech, I'll make this short. For the past two weeks, Draco and I have been snogging each other." I clapped my hand to my forehead. Crap! The hall erupted with murmurs. Yep, they heard that one. Mental note: Kill Harry.
"Oh-ho now! Well…that's not something anybody in this hall expected to hear!" The announcer sounded far too cheery for my liking. "Stay tuned, ladies and gentlemen, there's more excitement after this commercial break."
I stood up and ran to the other side of the partition. Or tried to, rather. The man, Tippler or whatever, was in my way. "Hold it, Draco! You're not allowed to see any of those competing for your heart. We don't want their looks to sway your final decision."
"I know what they look like, you idiot," I grumbled.
He laughed. "Fine, then we don't want you to strangle young Mister Potter before the show is over."
All right, that was a legitimate concern. I sat back down on my stool and waited for the commercial break to end.
"Welcome back to Charmed Love here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" He went on for the next hour or so telling exactly what had just happened. Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but whatever.
"We move on to our next question for the competitors. Harry, Pansy, what's your fondest memory you share with Draco? Harry, you can start."
"Well, I don't think I have a favorite. I have a couple of memories popping in my mind, but I don't know which is the best." He paused. "I think… the first time he apologized to me. It told me he really cared for me. I mean, he's an arrogant, selfish prick... I didn't think he could admit fault. But when he said that, I knew he really…I don't know. Something just clicked. Oh, and that time in Snape's office wasn't bad, either."
All right, death to all Gryffindors! There was no time in Snape's office; he just said that to annoy me. The look on Professor Snape's face is pretty fun, though.
"And you, Pansy?"
"Oh, that's easy. The time when he took me to his house for the Christmas holidays and we got to spend so much time together at his house." She sighed. "That was the best."
For the record, that Christmas wasn't that fun. All Pansy wanted to do was be in my room, or talk about how great all our stuff was. It was actually rather annoying.
"Okay. What's your worst memory you share with Draco? Harry?" There was a long silence. "Harry?"
"I'd have to say," Harry said in a smaller voice than before. "The same time. He shouldn't have apologized, it was all my fault. I was to dense to see the truth, and was mad at Draco for something I shouldn't have been mad at him for. I made him apologize. That was wrong of me. I'm sorry, Draco. I know I've said it before, but I'll say it one more time. I'm stupid and I'm sorry. And I'll probably say it again later."
"Oh, isn't that sweet?" the brainless host cooed. "How about you, Pansy?"
"That, again, is easy," she said, her voice steely. "It was last week when I found him on top of my boyfriend, smearing chocolate all over his chest."
The crowd began it's murmuring again, louder than ever. Even the host couldn't stop himself. "Oh my! That's certainly scandalous. He wears the pants in one relationship, but then trades them in in another."
I blushed an embarrassing shade of pink. I hadn't even thought of what people might think in that respect. I had to say something. "That's not true! I most certainly did not do anything of the sort! I—" I sat down, catching myself before I gave away anything too vital.
"Well well well! The plot thickens! But now, we have to move on to the next part of the show, where members of the audience get to ask the contestants questions! We have some people standing by, I believe."
There was a line of people, mostly girls, standing to the side of the audience. A techni-wizard standing at the front of the line performed, I'm guessing, 'Sonorous' on the person about to ask her question.
"My question is for Harry," she said with her newly booming voice. "Have you ever had feelings for another guy before, or is Draco your first?"
Harry cleared his voice. "W-well, Draco is the first male person I have liked, you know, like that, but I don't think that's saying much. I've only ever liked about three or four people all together, so…"
The next girl walked up. "My question is for Draco." I straightened up on my stool. "Have you gotten farther with Pansy or Harry?"
My mouth flew open. I felt like a fish after being pulled from water, gasping for oxygen, only I was being pulled from my safe ground. A moment ago, nobody knew I liked boys, now they ask me questions like this? "I-I…That's an awfully personal question, isn't it? I don't think I should have to answer that."
But the announcer stepped in. "I'm sorry, but you agreed early to answer all questions directed towards you, so you must."
"Well…um," I cast anxiously around for a way out. I was stuck "I, er, have… gone farther…with …Harry." The girl smiled and strode off with a skip in her step. A boy she passed handed her a galleon. I. Could. Just. Die!
Another girl came up. She asked how long Pansy had known about Harry.
"Well, I had first had suspicions three weeks ago, when Draco had a dream. I won't go into it, but let's just say it tipped me off to a few things in Draco's mental closet."
All right, suicide is looking pretty good right about now.
Tippler came to my rescue. "One more question, and then a commercial break!"
A girl with frizzy brown hair walked up to the small stand. "My question is for Harry," she said. "Why the heck did you pick Draco Malfoy, of all people? You've always said you couldn't stand him, and you've never made an effort to hide you hate. And you said yourself he was selfish and arrogant, and everybody knows he's not exactly open to everybody's opinions, one might say. So, why him? Why him, when you could have almost anybody else in the school?"
I bristled. It was the exact question I had been trying to purge from my mind for two weeks. Why me? I waited for his answer.
He took a large breath before answering. "I… don't know. I don't know why my heart chose him, but it did. And I'm glad it's him. There's only one way to put this, so here goes: I love him. Plain and simple, I love him. And nothing anybody says or does will have any effect on that. I love him and want to shout it from the top to the castle. He brings me back to earth. He is so perfect for me it stuns me. So, I really can't answer your question. All I know is that I love him and all I can do is try to be the type of person he can love back."
Hermione smiled at me and turned away.
I wanted to get up right then, to scream that I loved him too, to run to him, to kiss him, to never let him go, but I seemed to have lost the ability to move.
Tippler started talking again, his voice distant to my ears. "All right, let's go to a commercial break, and then we'll find out who our young bachelor chooses!" Almost immediately, he said, "Okay, welcome back to Charmed Love, I'm your host Stephen Tippler and we're about to find out who Draco Malfoy chooses, his girl-friend of six years or his new boy-love! Here's how it works, we take away the divider from between him and the two challengers, and Draco has to choose which of the two contenders he wants! Who he doesn't, he kisses goodbye!"
He turned to the audience. "Help me out here, people, on the count of three! Ready? One! Two! Three!"
A loud "Evanesko!" and the divider was gone. Pansy and Harry stood next to each other, facing the audience, but looked at me expectantly.
And that brings me to now.
I have only one decision to make right now, only one thing to think about. Do I kiss Potter or Pansy? Kiss Pansy, and I'd be forcing myself into the roll of a gay, and having to deal with everybody who has a problem with that, including my mother and father, possibly, thought I doubt it, being disowned. If I say good-bye to Harry, I'd be letting go of the one true friend I've ever had, the only person I've felt like a real person with.
It was no contest at all.
I walked to them, so I was standing in front of both of them, not looking at either, a running commentary going on behind me supplied by Mister Stephen Tippler. I looked at Harry and smiled. He smiled back at me, a smile that showed all the love that he held for me, a mirror of how I felt for him. I turned to Pansy. She was looking at us, really looking at us. Her face was a mask of confusion.
"Pansy," I said softly. She turned to me, her expression unreadable.
"Yes, Draco?" She finally understood, I think, what there was between us, and what was between Harry and me.
"Pansy, I'm so sor—" She cut me off.
"Shut up and kiss me."
