-CHAPTER EIGHT-
Harry sat down at the Gryffindore table, making sure he avoided Seamus's knowing gaze.
Even though he'd gotten up earlier than the other guys in his dorm, his shower had taken longer than he'd expected, so most of Hogwarts was now eating breakfast in the Great Hall.
Harry mechanically spooned porridge into his mouth, but he didn't taste it.
"Harry?" he heard Ron ask.
"Huh?" he turned to see Ron looking at him, looking slightly puzzled.
"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked him, frowning slightly.
Harry nodded, "Oh yeah, I'm fine."
"Sleep well last night?" Seamus broke into their conversation with a smirk.
Harry felt his cheeks redden "Uh yeah, fine thanks," he said, trying to sound casual, "how about you?"
"Oh, I slept fine," Seamus said. He grinned at Harry, then turned back to Dean.
"What was that all about?" Ron asked in bewilderment.
"Oh…nothing," Harry said dismissively, spooning porridge into his mouth quickly.
Hermione didn't look convinced, but she didn't press Harry any further.
Breakfast was soon over, and classes began. Harry spent much of the day daydreaming, much to Hermione's annoyance. "Harry, don't want to pass your OWLS this year?" she asked him during lunch.
"What?" Harry asked, but his mind and gaze were on Draco.
"Exactly! You're not paying attention to anyone! If you keep this up you're going to fail everything!"
Harry shrugged disinterestedly – he'd worry about the end-of-year exams when the time came. He tuned out Hemione's lecturing and let his gaze wander on over to the Slytherin table.
As Harry watched Draco eat his lunch, a sudden idea sprang to his mind – what if he told Draco? It was a crazy, rash, stupid thing to do, but a little voice deep inside Harry wouldn't shut up.
How do you know he doesn't fancy you back?, the voice asked.
Because he's Draco Malfoy – God of Slytherin, who happens to hate me, Harry argued back.
He might not hate you completely, the voice continued, it's probably just an act.
Well, even if he didn't hate me, there is the problem of him being straight.
How do you know he's straight? Persisted the voice, He could just be in denial, or scared to tell anyone, or even if he had told people, he wouldn't be likely to tell you, would he? You'll never know if you don't try.
Shut up, Harry responded, before realizing that not only had he been talking to himself, he'd just replied out loud. Ron looked at him strangely, and Harry gave him a weak smile back.
"Look Harry, just because you don't care about the end-of-year exams doesn't mean everyone else feels the same as you." Hermione huffed, apparently still going full-steam through her lecture.
"Uh, sorry Hermione," Harry said, "I, uh…let's change the subject, hmm?" Hermione frowned at Harry, but didn't say anything. Talk at the Gryffindore table resumed, but Harry could feel Hermione's ever-watchful gaze firmly directed at him.