A/N: Hoo boy, I'm sorry this is so late. I didn't want to post this until I'd finished the chapter I was working on, but christ on a stick, that chapter was a doozy. I got it written though, and the next chapters should come more easily.

Please please please take a moment to leave a review; reviews feed my soul and inspire me to write faster. Also they will keep me from falling into a pit of despair as finals week approaches.

Chapter 6

True to his word, Draco took Harry to see a film two days later. They caught an early afternoon showing of some popular new superhero movie, and what the date lacked in romantic cliches, it made up for with cheap tickets and the whispered, sarcastic commentary Harry and Draco kept running through the film, much to the irritation of their surrounding moviegoers.

They left the cinema suppressing fits of laughter, squinting their eyes against the blinding glare of sunlight that welcomed them back into reality. They reenacted their favorite scenes from the film as they ambled across the pavement towards a deli Draco had seen across the street from the cinema.

Once inside, they grew subdued in favor of consuming their meals, though occasionally, Draco would catch Harry's eyes and mime a particularly amusing moment from the film, or vice versa, and they would devolve into another spate of muffled giggles.

Draco had finished his lunch and was waiting for Harry to do the same when he grew aware of two wide-eyed girls their age staring at them from across the small restaurant. They were whispering furiously to each other from behind hands raised to their mouths.

"We've got fans," Draco said quietly to Harry, who immediately whipped around to find who Draco was talking about. Draco resisted the urge to release an exasperated groan and possibly hide his face in his hands; he settled instead for closing his eyes briefly and sighing. "No, don't do that, you'll get their attention," he admonished.

Harry looked back at Draco. "Too late for that," he said sheepishly, gesturing discreetly towards the two girls who were now making their way to Harry and Draco. The girls reached their table a moment later, leaving Draco unable to reply. He opted to glare halfheartedly at Harry instead, tugging self-consciously at his left sleeve to ensure his tattoo was hidden.

"You're Harry Potter, aren't you?" one of the girls enthused. "From the Pride and Prejudice drama!" She barely waited a moment for Harry to gesture in a vaguely affirmative manner, some combination of shrugging his shoulders and half-grimacing that left Draco stifling a chuckle, before continuing. "You were so good! I mean, most child actors are so stilted, or it's really obvious they don't have the experience older actors do, but you acted so naturally! Sometimes I totally forgot it was just a show, you were so realistic."

"Um. Thanks?" Harry said. His eyes flickered to Draco's, a plea for help spelled clearly within them. Draco just turned his gaze to the table and snickered.

"Anyway," the other girl said forcefully, glaring at her friend, "we didn't mean to take up much of your time. We were just wondering if we could take a picture with you?"

By now, the handful of other patrons in the small restaurant had also begun to take notice of the situation. It was clear that the attention was unsettling for Harry, if the way he was nervously wringing his hands was any indication. "Um," Harry started, glancing helplessly at Draco. "I don't really-"

"He'd be delighted," Draco cut in with a wide smile. "In fact, I can take it for you so you're both in the picture, how's that?"

"Wait, Draco," Harry said, but Draco brushed him off and took hold of the smartphone one of the girls was passing him.

"Alright, on 3," he said, aiming and focusing the camera. "1, 2, 3." He tapped the screen. The image froze with a small click as it was captured before the camera returned to normal. "There you go, girls," Draco said graciously, handing the camera back. "Now if you'll excuse us, we were just leaving." He stood up and gestured to Harry to follow suit.

"Of course, sorry! Thank you!" said the first girl, her chirpy voice too loud in the now-silent cafe. The pair retreated to their own table as Draco waited for Harry to pick up his trash to throw away.

As they headed to the bins, Draco finally noticed the tension in Harry's shoulders and the firm set to his lips. He remembered suddenly how Harry had told him he didn't care for fame, and Draco wondered if perhaps there was a deeper reason for Harry's discomfort.

Feeling uncomfortably guilty, Draco swallowed his own discomfort and reached out for Harry's hand as they walked towards the door. He rubbed soothing circles on Harry's skin, trying to convey a silent apology and offer some small comfort in the tense atmosphere of the cafe. Harry squeezed Draco's hand in silent acknowledgement, and to Draco's delight, he noticed that Harry was smiling slightly.

Draco had just rested his hand on the door handle when one of the girls blurted out, her voice laced with disgust, "Wait, he's a faggot?"

Several things happened at once. By Draco's side, Harry stiffened with a sharp intake of breath and clutched so tightly at Draco's hand, he would not have been surprised to find mild bruises forming later that evening. The girl's companion exclaimed, "Oh my god, Lavender! You can't say things like that!" All conversation in the cafe drew to a close as the patrons zeroed in on Draco and Harry's linked hands, and though most turned away immediately, clearly disinterested, a few gawked openly, only adding to the overall tension of the situation. The sudden silence that permeated the atmosphere was disturbed only by the loud, out-of-place whirring of machinery from the back.

"Harry," said Draco in a low voice, turning the name into a question and a reassurance at the same time. He didn't look at Harry as he said it, though, preferring instead to burn a hole into the girl's head with his eyes. If looks could kill, he mused absently, she would have been drawn and quartered by his gaze within seconds.

"Let's just go," Harry whispered back. His voice was shaky and his eyes were damp. He tugged lightly on Draco's hand.

Draco turned to look at him, taking in his pale face and clenched fists before acquiescing with a curt nod. He used his free hand to push the door open and gestured for Harry to walk through first. Directing one final, scathing glare at the girl, Draco followed Harry outside and let the door slam shut behind him.

Pressing a hand covertly against Harry's lower back, Draco pushed him away from the cafe and towards the tube. "We're going back to my dorm," he told Harry firmly. Harry only nodded once, shakily, his eyes downcast, and continued shuffling in the direction Draco had directed him.

Draco let his hand drop from Harry's back when he felt certain that Harry would continue moving without Draco's guidance. His hands clenched into fists as well, mirroring Harry's, as anger washed over him anew. This wasn't the Harry he knew. This wasn't the Harry who had coaxed Draco out of his shell with promises of happiness and freedom. This was a Harry he had only glimpsed once before, and that, too, for scarcely a split second-when he had asked Harry about the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

Draco wondered if that scar had something to do with how Harry was acting now. Had the girl in the cafe said something reminiscent of the circumstances that had led to the scar? What was the connection?

Despite his concern and curiosity, however, Draco didn't pry. Instead, he gently guided Harry onto the tube, through campus, and into his room. He sat Harry down on the bed before turning away to fetch him a bottle of water. He perched on his desk chair, watching in silence as Harry downed the bottle in one go.

"This is certainly not how I imagined our date ending," Draco remarked after a moment, when it became clear Harry was not going to say anything. He hoped the dryness of his voice masked the confusion and worry he was feeling.

"No, me neither," Harry agreed, his voice still hoarse. He fiddled aimlessly with the plastic bottle, tossing it back and forth between his hands. Draco waited silently for a moment longer, thinking Harry might be more inclined to speak now that he had had a few minutes to calm down. Indeed, Harry opened and closed his mouth several times, but to Draco's irritation, nothing came out.

Finally, Draco lost his patience. "Are you going to say anything?" he demanded. "What happened back there? What she said wasn't right, but it wasn't something that should have caused the reaction it did. Tell me what's going on, Harry."

Harry visibly bristled. His hand flew to his scar, and though he immediately disguised the gesture by brushing his fringe out of his eyes, the action only served to confirm Draco's suspicions that the incident in the cafe was connected to Harry's scar. "It was nothing," Harry said finally, still avoiding Draco's gaze. He took a breath to add something, but hesitated at the last second and seemed to decide against it.

Draco released an explosive sigh. "Obviously it wasn't nothing," Draco bit out. "You wouldn't be sitting here shaking if it had been nothing." He clenched and unclenched his hands helplessly, trying to find a release for the frustration he felt that didn't result in using Harry as a target. Breathing in deeply, he forced himself to calm down. "Tell me what happened," he beseeched, his voice soft with desperation. "Let me help you, you arrogant git. I can't do that if I don't know what's wrong."

Harry finally raised his head and met Draco's gaze when Draco insulted him, remorse shining in his eyes. His hands stilled; silence stretched between the two, fraught with the words that remained unspoken. "It's not that I don't trust you," Harry started. He trailed off, frustrated. "I want to tell you," he tried again, "but it's not something I feel comfortable talking about right now. Surely you understand?" He dropped the water bottle onto the bedcovers beside him and gestured to Draco's left arm. Draco gripped at his sleeve reflexively and tugged it down. His face burned as he realized he had only played into Harry's intent. "You have your own secrets," Harry continued. "Let me have mine."

Despite his concern for Harry, and the anger he felt that someone could have reduced the boy to the nearly catatonic mess sitting on Draco's bed, Draco had to concede that he had a point. Draco couldn't very well expect Harry to reveal the details of his past when Draco himself wasn't comfortable returning the gesture.

"Point taken," he said quietly. He hoped Harry would hear the apology hidden beneath the words. "You're right. I'll let you tell me when you're ready."

Harry smiled. He pushed himself off the bed and crossed the room until he was standing in front of Draco. Taking Draco's face in his hands, he pressed a soft kiss to Draco's lips.

"Thank you," he whispered against them, his forehead resting against Draco's, their breaths intermingling until Draco couldn't tell where his ended and Harry's began.