Chapter 14

A/N: I started this a while ago, and I'm sorry about the wait. But hey, genius takes time :-) Anyways, thankies to all who reviewed, love you all, yes the line was from Thankyou for the Venom. I LOVE My Chemical Romance!

I'm in a very good mood.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Disappointed at the sudden loss of contact, Harry opened his eyes and, following Draco's line of sight, realised what was wrong. And it was wrong all right, very wrong.

Mione looked like she was about to faint, and Ron… well, it looked like an explosion was imminent. Harry gulped nervously and reached for his T-shirt, yanking it back on while trying to look decorous and as if he had not just been caught in the middle of the biggest make-out session of his life. He chanced a look at Draco, whose expression was one of thinly veiled terror.

"Um…" Draco managed to break the silence. Sadly, his words – well, word – was not one of consequence.

Mione was leaning on the door, blinking furiously. "Guys, I don't want any unnecessary details, but were you two… doing what we thought you were doing?"

Harry ran a hand uncomfortably through his hair. "In so far as to say that we were, ah, well yes, probably…" He trailed off helplessly.

Draco gave a tiny sigh of impatience. "Kissing. Yes we were."

Ron still hadn't spoken. Harry looked nervously over at him. His expression of rage had faded, but as he caught Harry's eye he muttered: "I think I'm gonna be sick." With that, he grabbed Mione's hand and fled the room.

Harry dropped his head into his hands. He felt the mattress move slightly as Draco sat down next to him again. "Are you OK?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Nope, I'm pretty shit actually, and yourself?"

Draco said nothing. He couldn't think of anything to say.

They sat in silence for a minute or two, until they heard the front door slam. Draco stood up and went onto the landing. Seconds later, he came back into the bedroom, his expression sad. "They've gone."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then lifted his head. "I'm going to go to the bathroom." He slowly stood up, and left the room.

After he shut the door, he stood in front of the basin and stared into the mirror. Why had this gone so wrong? What the hell was Ron's problem? He stayed there for a while, just looking at his reflection.

When he finally tired of wallowing in the moment, he left the bathroom and went back across the landing. He stepped through the door and saw Draco sitting in the corner, gazing at his laptop screen. Harry walked lightly across the room and looked over Draco's shoulder. When he saw the display, clear as day in 256-bit colour, his heart did a backflip and threatened to leave his body through his nose.

At last, the blond boy spoke. "Get out."

Harry's eyes were fixed on the screen. "Bu-"

He could see Draco's face reflected on the screen. His eyes were shut tight, and his face looked as if it was about to crack. His voice rose as he spoke again. "Get. The fuck. Out."

Harry's knees nearly gave out at the sound of the rage in Draco's voice. At last, he spun round, grabbed his bag, and left. Minutes later, he was on the sidewalk, heading for home, unable to believe what he had just seen. On the computer screen, he had seen himself. And Melfin. Kissing. If it had been someone else in the picture, he would have believed it as unshakeable evidence. But him and Melfin? He hadn't. He wouldn't. But Draco thought he had.

Fighting back a wave of emotions, he broke into a run. He didn't need this right now.

Hell followed: three and a half weeks of absolute hell.

It was on November 25th, Thanksgiving, when something finally happened to take his mind off Draco, the boy he loved, the boy who hadn't spoken to him since the Melfin pictures.

Literally, Draco had not said a word to him. He had just outright blanked him. When Harry tried to talk to him, he walked away. When Harry called him, he hung up. Notes were shredded. Messages were ignored.

In the evening of Thursday the 25th, Harry found his sister hanging around outside his room. "Hey Deb, what's up?"

She raised one eyebrow. "I'm surprised you haven't heard."

He rolled his eyes. "In case you haven't noticed, on one's talking to me, so who'd tell me? So what is it?"

She shrugged. "I'm out."

"You're what?"

"Out. People know I'm bi."

"You're bi?"

"God, Harry! Get with the program! I'm surprised Draco didn't tell you before you two… y'know."

Harry gaped. "Draco knew?"

"Well yeah. I mean, I knew he was gay first, so share and share alike."

"Jesus, you've probably spoken to him more than I have lately!"

"Well when did you last speak to him?"

"November 1st."

She nodded. "Yeah, looks like I have. I spoke to him yesterday. He wants you back, by the way. Turns out the pictures were a fake. Goyle did them."

"You're shitting me! Why hasn't he spoken to me then?"

"Hmm, well he kicked you out of his house into a rainstorm, left you friendless, and ignored you for three weeks. Why do you think, Einstein? He's scared."

Harry ran a hand through his hair, blinking in amazement. He turned and opened his bedroom door, and walked in. Deb followed him.

He sat down on the bed and frowned at his sister. "So you're definitely into girls, then?"

"Hell, yeah! I mean, is the sky blue? Are you in love with Draco Malfoy?"

Harry glared at her with an exasperated sigh. "If all you're gonna do is make barbed comments about me and Draco, you can leave now."

Deb shrugged. "Suit yourself. I've got stuff to do anyway." And with that, she left, shutting the door gently behind her.

Harry was reeling. Life was getting more and more weird. And he had thought that Deb had issues before; right now, she seemed saner than he had felt in months. She was right anyway; he was in love with Draco, and he missed him more than he had ever thought possible.

But he couldn't just go up to Draco and ask him to take him back. He'd look like a fool, and what if Deb was wrong? What if he said no? After all, Draco had been prepared to believe the photos, and he had never even had a chance to deny it.

He groaned in frustration. Love was so confusing. One minute you were flying, but it only took the tiniest hitch and suddenly you were in the gutter. One day you couldn't breathe for happiness, the next you could be crying in a corner, humming to yourself to block out the world.

Harry could barely drag himself out of bed on the Friday morning, but he managed it. He sat through homeroom and classes alone, as he was now used to.

At lunch, the usual walls went up. People sat in huddles in classrooms or the cafeteria, and again he was out on his own.

And so it was that he found himself walking along the edge of the sports field, contemplating the crappier side of life, when he saw something that threw aside all belief.

Round the back of the gym, leaning on the wall, stood a couple. But not a conventional couple. Oh no, because this couple consisted of two people well-known to Harry, both of whom had recently given him lectures on his personal life, both of whom were in the year below him, and both of whom were girls.

As he stood in shock, the redhead smiled and brushed a strand of hair out of the brunette's face, then… oh god, he shouldn't be watching this. This was private, icky stuff. Private, icky stuff involving his… he had to find Ron.

He was glad to turn away, and he forced himself to maintain a calm walk as he headed back for his homeroom.

All the way there, he was wondering what he was going to say. But when he got through the door, he found it was easier to just grab Ron by the arm and start walking back with him in tow. The ginger boy struggled briefly, but Harry fixed him with a death glare and muttered: "For god's sake, gay germs aren't infectious. There's something you have to see."

Eventually, he was standing back at the corner of the gym block. He peered round the corner at the back wall, before turning back and nodding to Ron. He gestured round the corner. "Enjoy."

There was a slight sadistic pleasure in this, he realised, as Ron tentatively stuck his head round.

Then the sadism really kicked in as Ron stumbled backwards, his hand over his mouth in shock. "Shit," he mumbled, sounding nauseated, "this time I really am going to be sick."

Harry stood there calmly while Ron was retching in a nearby shrub, and was waiting when the other boy stood up and came over. "Is everyone going gay?" His voice was a hoarse whisper.

Harry finally lost patience with him. "No, Ron, most of the world is comfortably straight! And half the reason for that is because gays get so much absolute shit from the rest of you! I'm sick of it! Being gay does not mean I'm going to jump you, OK? When I was straight, were you worried about me fancying Mione? Do you fancy every girl alive? No, because that's not how it works! I was the third wheel when you and Mione got together, and hey, I was sick of that, but things just got a hell of a lot worse when you guys freaked. True friends don't do that!" He finished his tirade and took several deep breaths.

Ron looked slightly afraid. "Dude, I didn't know it was that bad," he managed at last.

"Yeah, well it was. And go us for totally getting distracted from the matter in hand."

Ron paled. "Oh god, yeah. What do we do?"

Harry shrugged, a slight smile playing on his face. "Congratulate them?"

"That's my sister!" Ron choked in a strangled voice. "I should be congratulating her for making out with another girl?"

"Well in case you hadn't noticed," Harry answered icily, "that other girl is my sister, and you don't see me freaking out."

Ron didn't seem able to take any more being understanding, so they silently decided it was time to head back, before the girls realised they'd been there.

He endured last period, glad for another distraction, even if it was his sister doing stuff a brother should never have to see.

At the end of the day, he was standing by his locker, rifling through his books, when a hand tapped him on the shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, he recognised those fingers, and that touch. He turned round, his heart performing an uncanny leap of hope.

Draco's eyes, half-hidden behind his hair, were full of pain and apology. He seemed barely able to speak, but he whispered quickly: "I'm so sorry I know the pictures were faked I'm an idiot can you forgive me?"

Harry's heart melted. "I…" he didn't know quite what to say.

After a long moment, Draco's eyes glistened. "Sorry. Stupid question." He turned away and started walking.

Harry knew he had to do something. This was his last chance. He glanced around, noting that there were about three other people in the corridor, all quite far away. He swung on his bag, slammed his locker and raced after the blond boy.

He caught up quickly, and stepped in front of Draco. His face was heartbreakingly downcast, and he looked like he could cry any minute.

Harry put out a hand and lifted his chin so that their eyes met. Then he whispered: "I forgive you. I love you."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: OK, the idealistic fluffy love stuff is courtesy of my current mood and situation, and a bit of it was inspired by my friend and fellow author Xandria Nirvana (check out her stuff, it's great).

Love you all, please review.