Harry's brain had shut down. It was almost mechanical the way he simply turned around and walked down the staircase as if he had not seen his Potion's teacher naked in bed with Draco Lucius Malfoy.
The moment was still replaying itself in Harry's mind as he exited the Slytherin dorms. The shock on both their faces – mostly Draco's – when Harry had practically spelled open the doors. A thought hit Harry. They both looked so content lying in each other's arms. He immediately shook the thought from his head, refusing to dwell on the matter any longer.
No sane person would be as bothered as he was with the love life of their arch nemesis. The word tasted bitter on his tongue. He had long stopped referring to Draco as his arch nemesis.
No, now he had a completely new assortment of worlds to describe the Slytherin. One of those words being crush, another being jealous. He undoubtedly had a crush on Draco Malfoy – which he had already accepted when he kissed him – but this jealousy was an entirely new feeling that honestly, Harry had no idea how to comprehend.
Was he supposed to act upon it or simply let himself seethe in it till he lost control and decided to throw himself off the astronomy tower? Surely, no normal person could go through this inner turmoil without at least murdering a few people.
Being jealous of Draco and Snape's relationship seemed almost ridiculous. As badly as Harry wanted Draco, the Slytherin just didn't seem interested in him. Maybe Harry had just been so used to getting all that attention from everyone the past few years, that without it now, he seemed to be going completely insane.
That definitely had to be it. Harry didn't have a crush on Draco Malfoy, the pretentious, entitled Slytherin git. Harry had just confused his obvious withdrawal from Malfoy's ever-present attention for a having a crush on the loathsome blond.
There was no other explanation. It was all just a big misunderstanding on Harry's part. Oh, how everyone would laugh – including Harry himself – if they found out that Harry Potter had fallen head over heels in love with Draco Malfoy.
Draco was still staring at the empty doorway that Harry had left through. Certainly, the Boy Who Lived hadn't just walked into this very room to see Draco curled up in Snape's arms? The last few minutes almost seemed like the sort of nightmare Draco would have, but this time it was so very very real. Draco's heartbeat sped up, his breathing becoming ragged. This wasn't happening. These sort of things didn't happen to the Malfoys. These things happened to those who were reckless and rash and careless - which were exactly the sort of things he had been these past couple of days, Draco thought to himself, mentally scolding himself for this level of stupidity that could only be achieved by Gryffindors and muggles.
He stood up and let the sheets fall off him fully. He didn't know what he was going to do now, but it wasn't staying in this room with Snape and cuddling. He fumbled with his robes, hastily pulling them on in his rush to follow the raven-haired boy. Snape simply looked upon the younger boy in amusement, knowing well what was going through the boy's scattered mind. "It would be much more effective if you didn't try to put both your legs in one pant leg'" said Snape, clearly enjoying the boy's franticness.
Draco halted and moved his attention to Snape who was still lying in bed, seemingly oblivious to Draco's panicked frenzy. "You're okay with me going after… him?" asked Draco in that small timid voice that Snape was accustomed to. "Draco, to be very frank with you, I've never had any romantic interest in you. You were a good thing to end my days with, but there was never anything beyond that. It's very clear to anyone paying attention that you have more than a physical attraction to Potter, so who am I stop you from pursuing what makes you happy. Believe it or not Draco, there are quite a number of people who wish to share my bed," Snape said with a hint of knowing to his voice.
"Well then Professor," said Draco standing a bit straighter, "it's been nice – the relationship we've had – but I'm afraid it must come to an end, unfortunately. I'll see you in Potions class and only then from now onwards." Draco, now fully clothed, strode out of the room with new confidence in finding Harry and began to construct what he would say to the enraged Gryffindor.
Harry felt a weight lift off his chest as he accepted the facts. This had all been a result of the lack of attention he had been receiving after the defeat of Voldemort. Sure, he was – and always would be – still the Boy Who Lived, but it didn't matter as much as when Voldemort was still a large threat to the Wizarding World. Now Voldemort would only serve as bedtime stories for young witches and wizards.
While Harry still got plenty of attention whenever he visited Hogsmeade or decided to leave Hogwarts, it certainly wasn't to the same extent as before ending Voldemort's reign of terror. Everything has a rational explanation, as Hermione would put it. These incessant feelings for Draco were just misplaced. At least Harry hoped they were.
With all the sorting out he had been doing in his mind, he hadn't noticed that he had reached the Gryffindor common rooms. He muttered the password – Firewhiskey – and pushed the portrait open.
Hermione and Ron were back at it again in each other's laps and Harry almost felt like he was intruding upon a moment he wasn't supposed to be witnessing. Harry could feel himself going red as he saw Ron push a lock of hair behind Hermione's ear and lean in for a kiss. Harry cleared his throat loudly, announcing his presence and Hermione practically jumped out of Ron's lap.
Ron's face was a bright crimson and the trio awkwardly stared at each other in silence, waiting for someone to break the tension building between them. "Ummm… mate you weren't at dinner tonight. Where were you?" asked Ron attempting to start a somewhat decent conversation. Hermione was fiddling with her nails, eyes towards the ground as she tried to avoid eye contact with Harry. "I'm gay," blurted out Harry.
"Wait, you're what?" asked Hermione, eyes snapping up to Harry's green ones, confusion written all over her usually composed face. "I like guys instead of girls," said Harry sheepishly, wondering what part of him had thought it was a good idea to share this detail of his life with them. "We said that there'd be no secrets between us and yeah I guess I just came out," continued Harry, the sentence sounding more like a question than a statement.
Hermione blinked several times, clearly trying to digest this new piece of information, while Ron just stared openmouthed at Harry as if he had just grown another head. "Well, umm, who exactly do you like?" asked Hermione, still shaking her head in disbelief. "That's where things get slightly complicated," murmured Harry.
Draco stopped in his tracks as he exited the dungeons. He had no idea where he was going. Where would Harry go? He leaned against the wall and watched students slowly fill up the deserted corridors after dinner, no sign of the Gryffindor anywhere. Harry would've obviously gone back to his dorms! Honestly, Malfoy when did you ever get this stupid? It must be that Potter using up all your brain cells.
Draco started running, hoping to catch Harry before he entered the Gryffindor common rooms. It would be very unlikely that Harry would just let him in after seeing what he just seen. Draco certainly wouldn't have talked to Harry if he had seen him with in bed with Snape. He would have been utterly terrified, in complete honesty.
Draco ran, pushing past all the other students, not caring a single bit about what they thought of him right now. A tiny voice at the back of his head was nagging at him to slow down and settle his hair and robes because they looked like a mess right now. He pushed it away. His mind was focused on Harry and only Harry. Nothing and nobody else was allowed to distract him.
He turned a corner and caught sight of the Fat Lady portrait. He nearly squealed in delight but refrained himself from doing so. He casually walked up to it and knocked on the portrait. "That's rather rude of you, knocking on me like that," the Fat lady said disdainfully, nose crinkled in disgust. Draco internally groaned. He knew all about pompous portraits and how to charm them into getting what he wanted.
"I'm so sorry, my lady," said Draco inclining his head slightly in a show of respect, "it's just that I need to speak with Harry Potter. It's quite an urgent matter mind you – a message from Dumbledore himself – and I'm afraid I don't know the password.'
"Well you could definitely just call for this Potter boy and I'm sure he would hear you," replied the Fat Lady. "I'm afraid this Potter boy is rather deaf and I wouldn't want to scream myself hoarse and still not have him hear me. It's also a rather secret message and nobody is to know about it except Dumbledore, Harry and I. I trust however that you won't tell anyone since you know oh so well how important this is," said Draco, the lies and flattery coming out easily. If there was one thing Malfoys were good at, it was lying.
Draco could see her resistance slowly crumbling. "I've decided that I'll let you in boy, just because you have nice manners, unlike these Gryffindor boys. They never care about how I feel," she said, hypnotized by the signature Malfoy charm.
Draco pushed open the portrait and stepped into the Gryffindor common room, taking in the sight of it. It was so very unlike the Slytherin one. It was bright and warm and reminded Draco of a time when he was younger and happier and more naïve. He stood in awe of common room, so mesmerized by the sight of it that he didn't notice every Gryffindor present gawking at him.
He shook himself out of his daze and narrowed his attention onto Potter who was consciously trying not to betray any emotions. Draco smirked, relief in knowing that he wasn't the only one having conflicting emotions. Draco stepped forward and whispered, "Potter, I need to speak with you, privately."
Harry stepped forward, albeit a bit jerkily. Granger however had other plans and held his arm, restricting him from moving forward. "You can't just toy with someone's emotions like that!" she whisper-shouted, grip tightening on Harry. "What do you want know Malfoy? You've already hurt Harry enough," added the Weasley.
Fuck, what had Harry told Granger and Weasley. Hopefully, it was nothing about his sordid love affair with Severus Snape. Weasley would spread that around the school faster than Draco would be able to hex him. Draco shook the disastrous thoughts from his head. He needn't be thinking about this right now.
Draco snorted, though coming from Draco, it sounded rather elegant. "I wish to speak with Potter, not his self-appointed guardians," said Draco wryly, pulling Harry out of their grasp and out of the common room.
"What the fuck do you want, Malfoy?!" shouted Harry, obviously not bothering about who heard him. "Well if you are asking… you," said Draco coolly as if he had not just proclaimed that he wanted Harry.
"You already have Snape, what more do you want? Don't worry, I couldn't be bothered to tell anyone about your disgusting relationship with our Potions' teacher," Harry spat out, frustration and anger boiling over inside him. Draco took a step back, hurt evident in those grey eyes. Harry swallowed guiltily. Draco ran a hand through his ruffled hair, exhaling sharply. He looked like he was about to scream.
Then Draco stopped his mindless fidgeting and adjusted his robes. "I'm sorry that you've had to see what did these past few times you've encountered me. If I were you, I'd be mortified and disturbed too. I realized however that what I have – what I had – with Snape was wrong and was based on nothing but our sexual needs," Draco finally paused here and looked into Harry's eyes. Draco had unknowingly moved closer to Harry, edging him backwards.
Harry's breath hitched as Draco moved even closer to him – this time intentionally. He felt the wall at his back, the smooth hardness of it a grounding mechanism so he didn't start to panic, or worse than that, faint. He was a bundle of nerves, but so was Draco.
Draco was a live wire and Harry was positive that he would get electrocuted if Draco so much as laid a finger on him. This situation reminded Harry of a snake cornering its prey – Draco being the snake, Harry being the prey. He could now feel the blond's cool breath upon his face and realized that his breath smelled vaguely of peppermint. The thought oddly comforted Harry for some reason.
"I know that I'm the least deserving person right now, but if you still feel the same way you did when you kissed me… I'd really like to be your boyfriend," Draco managed to mumble yet sound extremely articulate at the same time.