Harry's mind had completely broken down. Nothing made sense anymore. All the noises he was hearing faded to a dull thrumming in his ears. He was fairly certain that his already fragile grip on reality was faltering. "No," Harry blurted out.
"What?" asked Draco, eyes widening in disbelief. "I said no, Draco," said Harry firmly, now much more confident in his answer. Harry didn't know why he had decided to say the Slytherin's name but it had rolled off his tongue so effortlessly, it almost felt natural.
Harry was sick and tired of referring to him as Malfoy. Even if he didn't want to become the blond's boyfriend, he still wanted to turn over a new leaf and not scowl at Malfoy – no, Draco – everytime they passed each other in the hallways. That started by addressing the Slytherin by his first name.
"Draco," Harry said, tasting the name, "you can't just go around and expect everything you want to fall into your lap just because you say so. I'm very sorry, honestly, but I simply don't want to be your boyfriend."
Was that too harsh? Would Draco start crying? Or worse, would he hex him? Merlin's beard! Harry should have just kept his stupid mouth shut and run away like the coward he was.
Draco wasn't processing anything that was coming out of Harry's mouth. It was almost like his heart had stopped beating the moment his name had tumbled out of Harry's perfect mouth. The Gryffindor always called him Malfoy, yet here he was saying Draco's name like he hadn't spent the past 7 years avoiding it. Draco was entranced by the sound of it. Who knew Draco was so vain as to fall in love with the way Harry spoke his name. Harry had no clue the addicting effect that this was having on Draco.
Harry had said Draco's name with such tenderness that Draco wanted to be wrapped up in the sweet sound of the raven-haired boy's voice. He wanted to be lulled to sleep by its smooth rhythm. He wanted it to be the first thing he heard in the morning and the last thing he heard at night. This was the voice that would bring him out of the nightmares that had plagued his nights ever so often after the Wizarding War. He wanted Harry to reserve that soft tender voice just for him and no one else.
Draco knew he was being selfish – and unreasonable for that matter – but nobody had ever said his name with such reverence that it almost shattered him into a million pieces. He broke out of his trance to find the Gryffindor staring blankly at him, head cocked to the side. Harry was looking straight into his eyes, waiting for a reaction.
Those eyes – Draco would willingly drown in that sea of emerald. There was such irony in the colour of those eyes. It was the colour of the avada kedavra spell that had killed his parents. It was also the colour that represented Slytherin house, which Harry showed so much aptitude for, given his ambitious nature.
Draco's hand moved up by its own accord. It reached up to Harry's forehead and pushed away the messy raven hair that covered his lightning scar. Time seemed to have stopped just for the two of them. Draco had never seen the scar up close and at the back of his mind, a horrifying scene was playing out – one of the night that Harry's parents had been killed. Draco ran a finger delicately over the scar, careful to not to cause Harry any pain. The Gryffindor inhaled sharply as Draco almost hypnotically stroked the scar with the barest touch.
"Harry, is that you?" said a feminine voice that Draco could not put a face to. He turned around and scowled out of habit. It was the Weasley girl that Harry had taken a liking to about a year ago. Was her name Ginny or Gwenny? Draco couldn't remember.
Harry was now fully relying on the wall to hold him up; without it, he would have already collapsed onto the floor. It was like his soul had left his body and was now looking down on the scene from above. Damn, why did Malfoy's – no, Draco's – lips look so utterly kissable at that moment.
Then, Draco had pushed his hair back and touched his scar. It was like the Slytherin hadn't heard a word Harry had said the past few minutes. To be very frank, Harry didn't mind at all that Draco was invading his personal space and was now caressing his forehead with his soft fingers. This however was a deterrent from getting Draco to believe that Harry didn't want him as a boyfriend. Harry had tried to move but it very nearly felt like he had been petrified – though he hadn't been.
Was there something wrong with him? Why couldn't he move? Was Draco holding him in place without his knowledge? Was this some dream that Harry's brain had conjured up? If it were, Harry certainly would have taken off his clothes by now.
Then as if by some miracle, Ginny had appeared and come to his rescue. Her voice alone had snapped Harry out of his stupor. Ginny's eyebrows were arched in a question. Harry also found that Draco was scowling at her and he put on arm on the blond in the hopes that it would stop him. It did, thank Merlin.
Without another word, Harry slipped away from Draco and ducked into the Gryffindor common room with Ginny. "Okay, but I'm really curious as to what intimate moment I interrupted between you and Malfoy," she said rather calmly as if it were an everyday occurrence. "You didn't interrupt anything," Harry huffed, trying to mentally erase the feeling of Draco's touch on him. "You saved me from Draco's assault on my body."
"Oh, so its Draco now instead of Malfoy or pretentious git or bloody wanker? And you didn't look very scandalized by his advances either. Is there something going on between the both of you that I should know about?" asked Ginny pleasantly, as if she were inquiring about the weather. "There's absolutely nothing going on between me and him, thank you very much for asking," said Harry sharply, attempting to stop the conversation from going any further. "Oh, my fault then for not knowing that being pinned against a wall and violated by your arch nemesis – as you call him – was something completely ordinary nowadays," concluded Ginny, snickering to herself as she walked away.
As soon as Ginny had left him alone, Hermione and Ron cornered him. "What happened out there with Malfoy?" asked Ron, prodding him for answers. "Did he try to do anything to you – like hex you or make you drink a potion?" asked Hermione, actually prodding Harry with her finger. Harry groaned. He wasn't in the mood to answer their questions – nor was he ready.
Harry pushed his friends aside and feigned tiredness, barely managing to escape to his room and shut the door behind him. He collapsed into his bed. He really was tired. The events of the day had drained his energy – and his will to live, if he was being quite honest. As soon as Harry's head hit the soft pillow, he drifted into the first dreamless sleep he had had in a long time.
Draco Malfoy was having no such luck falling asleep. He was staring wide-eyed at the ceiling of his bed, wondering what in Merlin's name had gotten into him just now. It was like this other being had possessed his body and decided that it would be great to stroke Harry's scar.
Only when he had returned to his room had the words Harry said sunk in. Harry didn't want him. Harry didn't want anything to do with him. Yet all this had gone over his head and he had touched Harry's forehead like it was the most natural thing to do at the moment.
Harry had quite literally frozen up under his touch. The golden boy had just stared at him while Draco was going through some sort of hypnosis. A fleeting thought passed through Draco's muddled mind. Harry had really soft skin. Draco sat upright and contemplated running headfirst into a wall. Where had that thought come from? Was he going insane?
Draco took in a shaky breath as he heard his fellow Slytherins enter the room. "Draco, where were you? Did you sleep through dinner?" asked Theodore Nott, snickering more to himself than the others present. "Do you think it was a girl keeping him up here?" suggested Crabbe. Draco could almost imagine the sly look that Crabbe would be giving the others. "More likely his Potions' homework than a girl," corrected Blaise, now laughing as well.
"You do know that I'm right here, you sodding idiots!" shouted Draco in annoyance as he pulled open the curtains of his bed. The other boys quietened down immediately, none of them wanting to face the wrath of Draco. "I'll have you know that I was having a headache and decided to rest up here rather than listen to you gits pester me with your concern for my health," replied Draco curtly, promptly drawing his curtains shut and laying down. Draco could hear their hushed whispers, most probably trying to figure out why he was so riled up. He reveled in the fact that they would never know or even come close to guessing it.
Harry woke up and the first thing that came to his mind was Draco. He pushed the Slytherin out of his mind. He had more important things to think about, like how he was going to look at Snape without wanting to hurl up his breakfast. A fresh stab of pain went through his heart. Why was he even feeling like this?
"Get up mate! It's nearly time for breakfast. Oh, why do I bother? Its not like you would care anyway, considering you have more important things on your mind," said Ron offhandedly, trying to mask the sly nature of the remark. Harry frowned in confusion, trying to dismantle the statement.
"Important?' asked Harry, finally giving in to his curiosity. "Yeah, I know a certain blond someone is on your mind," said Ron suggestively, a sly smirk playing on his lips. "Are you talking about Luna or is this someone that I don't know?" asked Neville, joining in the conversation, curiosity piqued at the mention of a certain blonde. Harry vaguely remembered Neville mentioning his interest in Luna while the eight-year Gryffindors were drunk on Butterbeer, trying to rid themselves of their sorrow after the war. "It's not that darling Ravenclaw of yours that I'm referring to, Neville," said Ron, throwing an arm around the boy's shoulders, "I'm referring to a blond with a much more notorious nature."
"Let me guess, its Malfoy isn't it?" asked Dean, sitting on his bed and fussing about with his tie. "Which other blond would be on Harry's mind?" added Seamus, jumping onto Dean, pinning him to the bed and unceremoniously cuddling his boyfriend. Ron groaned and gagged at the sight of the two lovers. "Please keep that between the both of you. We don't want to scar poor innocent Neville over here," said Ron pouting and pulling Neville closer. Neville wriggled out of his hold and rolled his eyes. "I'm perfectly capable of defending myself, Ron. Especially since you and Hermione decide to make out whenever I'm around," spat out Neville, making Ron go red.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief as the conversation was directed away from him. He looked around the room, taking in the scene surrounding him. His heart ached. He didn't know how long ago he had allowed himself to be bathed in the sound of his friends' infectious laughter and prance around in their unadulterated happiness. It was so innocent and childlike – exactly the thing he hadn't been allowed to experience in his earlier years.
Turning his head, he blushed at the uncensored emotion shown between Seamus and Dean. They weren't ashamed of their love for each other and they weren't afraid to show it. Harry secretly envied them and what they had. He too wished he could let himself love someone that openly without the fear of losing them. Now, he also had to deal with the fact that he was gay and navigating new territory. He considered asking Dean and Seamus for dating advice, then realized that he would have to come out to them for that to happen. Harry definitely wasn't ready to come out, especially since he had just found out himself.
A whole set of new problems revealed themselves to Harry. How was he supposed to woo a boy? Was it any different from wooing a girl? Well, Harry wasn't very experienced in wooing girls either. He could ask Hermione or Ron but that would be way too awkward for Hary to handle. Harry groaned and put his head back onto the pillow. Why did everything have to be so hard for him?
Draco opened his eyes, panting heavily. He was covered in sweat and he'd be lying if he didn't admit that he was hard. The dream had been so vivid and real. He didn't even know that his mind was capable of such a thing. What he would give to make that dream real. The dream itself hadn't even been a bit erotic – unless you counted how fucking sexy Harry looked without a shirt on.
It had just been Harry and him going on date, walking in a picturesque garden and holding hands. Dream Harry was obviously shirtless and damn had that turned Draco on. There was all the boring stuff – them having a picnic, Draco kinda almost sitting on a ferret – but what had really gotten to Draco was the ending. Dream Harry was towering over Draco – which was absurd, because Draco was taller than Harry – and leaning in for a kiss. Just before Harry's goddamn fucking perfect lips had touched Draco's, he had been awoken by the whining of Theodore Nott. Never in Draco's whole life had he wanted to murder someone more than he did now.
Draco calmed down his breathing. He didn't want to go through this. Harry had rejected him quite plainly and Draco wasn't going to follow him around like some lost puppy. He would focus on more important things; like how he was going to look at Snape without imaging him naked. This was going to be a very hard day.
Fuck, wasn't first period Potions with the Gryffindors. Draco would be facing his problems much earlier than he would like to.