Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me.

Author's Note: God, I'm turning out these chapters at an alarming rate! Blink and you'll miss one! Anyway, here is Chapter 10. I'm really enjoying this whole writing thing. Woohoo.

After dinner, Harry managed to slip out of the common room with no fuss. As he had bitterly predicted, Ron and Hermione were so busy gazing at each other that they probably wouldn't have noticed if he'd sprouted antlers, or turned into a giant slug. On the bright side, though, this made it ridiculously easy for him to slip off to meet Draco. He didn't bother with the Invisibility Cloak this time, but shoved it in his bag in case he was late coming back.

The meeting went well at first. Draco arrived only a few minutes after Harry.

"Hey," Harry greeted him from the large, squashy sofa he was seated in (he had doubts about whether he would be able to get up from said sofa, as it had sunk considerably when he sat down).

"Hi," Draco responded, smiling at Harry as he joined him on the sofa. The sofa sank even more as he sat down, which was quite worrying. "No trouble getting away then?"

"No," Harry replied. "I could have swung from a chandelier and those two wouldn't have noticed. How about you?"

Draco grimaced. "No trouble, unless you count Pansy Parkinson, which I do. She won't leave me alone, no matter what I do!"

"Tell her about you and me," Harry suggested.

Draco smirked. "Good idea, I don't think." He instantly regretted the tone of voice he had said this in, and quickly added: "At least, not yet, Harry. We need to be sure about us first."

Harry looked a little hurt. "You know, you sounded just like the old Draco Malfoy just then. I thought I left him behind."

"I'm sorry, Harry! You know I've changed! I haven't been telling all of Slytherin that I've... been with you, have I? I've changed, Harry. And I am serious about you."

Harry smiled sardonically. "Oh yeah, Draco, I SO believe you. With the way you reacted just then, I'm not so sure. What is it you want?"

"You," Draco replied. "I AM serious, I care about you! I want us to be together."

Harry still didn't look convinced. "How can I be sure of that? Of you?"

"Jeez!" Draco burst out, trying to stand up for effect and failing dismally as the sofa refused to relinquish its hold. Instead, he just sat up straighter and settled for looking furious. "What do I have to do, Harry? What will prove to you that I'm serious? Do I have to bloody propose?"

"Well I'm sorry if I don't have complete faith in you!" Harry yelled back. "I DO like you, Draco-"

"You like me? Oh, thank you so much, I'm honoured that the little B Who Lived LIKES me!"

"Shut the hell up, will you?!" Harry yelled.

"Why should I?" Draco demanded, but he had lowered his voice a little.

"I want to say something," Harry answered, beginning to feel calmer.

"What?"

"It's something kind of... big. I think I'm..." Harry stopped and took several deep breaths. This was damn scary. "I think... I think I'm in... love with you."

Draco looked like he was about to faint. "I... I think I'm in love with you too."

At last managing to (partly) overcome the sofa's unique gravitational field, the two of them drew closer together. The kiss that followed was unlike anything that either of them had ever felt before. Unfortunately, what followed was not so good.

"So, Harry, do you trust me?" Draco asked quietly, his face still inches from Harry's. His expression had softened enormously, and he looked almost childlike.

Harry tried to answer, but he could not say anything. Draco waited for a few seconds, but eventually he had had enough. After several moments of silence, his face turned to pure venom. He looked ready to kill. "So, the conundrum has hit, like it does so often to couples," he muttered angrily. "You love me, but you don't trust me." His eyes, angry at first glance, were masking hurt. "Well, what did I expect? My father tried to kill you. So have I, actually! Why should you trust me?" He laughed. It was a horrible sound. "See you around, Harry. And don't worry, I won't tell anyone about your... leanings."

"I'm not gay!" Harry told him desperately. "I don't like guys, I just like you..." He leaned and kissed Draco again. The blond did not resist, but when they broke apart his face had not changed. He spoke in a low voice, angry and hurt.

"If you don't trust me, Harry, we have nothing. We're through." With these words, he swept from the room, leaving Harry alone.

After a while, Harry left too. How could this have happened? He loved Draco, and Draco felt the same. How had it ended like this?

To add to his misery, no one even noticed his return to Gryffindor tower. He went straight to bed when he arrived back, and all his dreams that night screamed at him the words he should have said.

The next day, he knew exactly what he would say to Draco. He would corner him later that day, he would apologise, he would tell Draco how he really felt.

He went down to breakfast on that Sunday rehearsing his words in his head. He stopped dead, though, just at the top of the stairs to the Great Hall, when he saw who was standing at the bottom.

Draco was there, his Draco, and he was kissing Pansy Parkinson.

Author's Note: That was a challenge to write. Oddly satisfying though. Where should I go from here? I promise the next chapter will be longer, as this one was a bit shorter than usual.