Author's note: Enjoy! and do let me know your views.
^_^
Chapter Three
*two years after the war (Christmas) continued*
Harry plunged his hands deep in his pockets, trying without success to fend off the December chill. It was a feat made even more difficult by the half-foot of snow on the ground that swallowed his feet and bit straight through his shoes and into his skin.
Across from him stood Ginny, who–in the privacy of the outdoors–could vocalize her concerns. And vocalize them she did.
Loudly.
"Are you seeing someone else, Harry?" she questioned, the words tumbling out of her mouth like vomit. Before he could answer, more came, each sentence being spoken with increasing hysteria. "Are you in love with someone else? Please tell me the truth. You owe me at least that much, don't you? Tell me!" Ginny's posture was stiff and her voice sounded as if she were about to burst into tears.
It was like knives in Harry's chest, seeing her this way. He took a deep breath and admitted, "Yes." His voice was small, almost guilty, and he couldn't help but wince at how meek he sounded.
There was a sharp intake of breath. Ginny made fists, set her jaw, apparently steeling herself for the answer to her next question. She asked very deliberately, "Who is she, Harry?"
Harry gulped, blood rushing to his face and surely turning him scarlet. "About that, Gin, look–I mean, listen..."
"Who is she, Harry?" reiterated Ginny, her words now sounding much stronger. And much more pissed. Her eyes were suddenly ablaze. You didn't have to be a Legilimens to see that she had to know.
Harry figured the only answer was the truthful answer. It had to be said. "They're not a she–they're a he. I'm gay, and I'm in l-love with, err, dammit..." Harry was unexpectedly stumbling over his own tongue. The awkwardness of this confession bit deeper than the cold of the snow on the ground, but he forced himself to keep going. Ginny had to know, and he had to say it. "I'm in love with Draco Malfoy."
The resounding laugh made Harry both hurt and bewildered. Laugh? How could Ginny laugh at this?
Seeing his expression, Ginny realized Harry was being serious. Her eyes widened, and she let out a little gasp, as if the very notion of Harry Potter falling for Draco Malfoy was incomprehensible–if not, offensive. She seemed to fumble with herself, mumbling something akin to, "I'm sorry," before bolting back to the Burrow.
Harry watched her go with a funny feeling in his stomach. A nearby chicken tilted its head to one side, and Harry scowled at it. "The hell are you looking at?" he muttered to it.
As Harry trudged towards the Burrow, Ron gave a reassuring smile from his seat on the porch. He had two bottles of butterbeer on hand and handed one to Harry as the Boy-Who-Lived sat down beside him. "Hey, mate. That went better than I expected," said Ron in a lighthearted tone. He took a sip of butterbeer and continued, "At least both of ya are alive and whole."
Harry had other things on his mind. "Ron, what if the rest of your family doesn't accept me either?"
Ron gave him a light slap over the back of the head. "Hello, did you meet Dorin? Capital fellow, happens to be my brother's boyfriend. And Ginny just needs time, relax," Ron insisted.
"I mean Draco and me. Specifically," grumbled Harry before taking a swig of butterbeer. He wondered idly if Molly still hid the Firewhiskey in the cupboard under the clock.
Ron gave a small scoff. "I'm Ron Weasley, and I'm chummy with him. Trust me: my family's a lot more lenient than you seem to believe. Bill doesn't really care who you end up with, so long as you're happy. Dad, Charlie, and George would be thrilled," he said, gesturing a bit with his bottle as he spoke. "Mum will probably need some time, but she'll come around. Ginny will too."
"Dammit, I'll tell them today. I really want to get this over with."
"Yeah. Okay. 'Mione and I will pitch in the good stories about our little get-togethers," Ron said a bit distractedly. He clapped Harry on the back. "Don't worry, it'll be fine," he finished with a little wink.
Harry couldn't help but smile as he recalled their Friday dinners, the ones that Draco often attended. Of course Ron had been skeptical at first, but after the first dinner, he'd grudgingly accepted that Draco had really changed since the days of their adolescence at Hogwarts. Ron had then concluded that he "would not mind" having him over more often.
Although, Ron did once get scarred for life when he barged into Harry's room unannounced late one evening, looking to borrow a quill. Despite swearing vehemently never to permit Draco within the premises again, his resolve crumbled after a few awkward apologies and a peace offering of Firewhiskey the following week.
Hermione had thanked Draco for "finally making him see the importance of knocking" by giving him the largest serving of the aforementioned peace offering.
Ronald Weasley had gauged his family's reactions to the tooth.
Bill just asked in a grave voice, "Is that what you truly want? Does he make you happy?"
Harry smiled a bit, knowing that it would be alright, and replied, "Yeah. He makes me happier than I should permitted to be."
Bill's face split into a wide grin. "Well, in that case, you have my congratulations." He added hastily, "Don't worry, Ginny'll be fine."
At Harry's confession, George only laughed and said, "I bet Fred's having an elaborate party right now."
Harry's gut twisted. "Um, why exactly?" Harry asked, apprehensive of the answer. Fred and George's causes for celebration were not always sane. In fact, nine times out of ten, they were particularly insane.
George gave a wee snort. "Why, he's the one who first pointed out the palpable sexual tension that you and that Malfoy spawn shared in your fifth year..." At this, Bill punched him in the arm, and George fell on the floor and began accusing Bill of attempted homicide in dramatic detail. This was the background noise for the rest of the afternoon.
Ignoring George's spiel, Charlie smiled warmly and hugged Harry fiercely. While in his embrace, Charlie spoke in his ear. "This side of the pitch is very enjoyable," he whispered. "Welcome, Harry. Now I can see why you thought to get us that very useful gift. Thanks, man." When he pulled away, both men were grinning at the memory of Harry's Christmas gift to Charlie and Dorin–discreetly packaged lube.
Arthur cleared his voice at the other end of the table, and Harry turned his attention to Arthur. He seemed a bit less forthcoming than his sons, with his hands folded businesslike on the tabletop. "Draco Malfoy? Are you sure about this, Harry?" inquired Arthur, concern in his voice. "Malfoy as in your arch-nemesis Malfoy? Lucius Malfoy's son?"
Harry nodded without hesitation or doubt. "Yes, Mr. Weasley. Draco Malfoy. But trust me, he is nothing like his father. He got the mark because he had no other option," Harry explained. He continued earnestly, "I really like him. And you and Mrs. Weasley's opinions are the ones that matter most to me. Please, Mr. Weasley, he really has changed. I swear by the name of Merlin."
Arthur's face regained the mirthful glow Harry had grown accustomed to over the years. "I just want my sons to be happy. If he makes you happy, then, Harry, you have my blessings," said Arthur with finality.
Harry beamed. "Thanks, Mr. Weasley. That means a lot."
"Anytime, Harry," Arthur said, smiling and giving a little wink. It reminded Harry a lot of Ron. He quickly added, "But do remember that he still has to have that much-dreaded lunch with me. He can ask Dorin for pointers."
Dorin shuddered at the memory of the much-dreaded lunch, and Charlie struggled physically to stifle his laughter.
Harry turned his attention to Percy, but he didn't have much to say. Percy just muttered a halfhearted "Congratulations," and fled to the upstairs to write a letter.