Ok, here's a long awaited update. Are you guys happy now coughsRenee&Katiecoughs?
The week passed slowly, each new day bringing him new exciting gifts, from the still mystery person. After the flowers, Harry recieved a new broom cleaning kit, which made no sense to him, since he last broom, had, of course been destroyed in a Quidditch match. The next day however, that made more sense, as a new Firebolt had arrived on the doorsteps of the Weasley household. After Harry's initial ride(which was right after breakfast, as Mrs. Weasley wasn't too keen on the whole household standing outside watching Harry fly while she was inside fixing them breakfast), Ron went next, followed by Ginny, who almost fell off and touched back down giggling.
Harry offered his new broom to Hermione to ride, but she declined. It wasn't until a few hours later did he realize that she was afraid of heights and that asking her if she wanted a ride was a really stupid thing to do.
Harry also recieved a new cloak and dress robes from this mysterious admirer, who claimed that the dress robes he did have, were sort of a joke (he made sure Mrs. Weasley never saw that letter) and that he had better taste than however bought him the last ones, so here was a new one. The new cloak really was a lovely piece of work. Black velvet, which really seemed to compliment Harry's eyes, or so everyone seemed to tell him.
At night, when he was all alone, well partially, and in bed, he wouldn't deny, that his thoughts didn't stray back to Draco. Even when he slept, never got peace, never had a free moment where he didn't think about him. His wispy blonde hair (of which he stopped putting gel in, that of which Harry was thankful), it was all the better to run his hands through, and then there were his ice cold eyes. Those ice blue eyes, that most people claimed were a trademark of the Malfoy family, one that meant they were cold-hearted people that would never be kind to others. Harry, clinging to the first impression that he ever recieved of Malfoy, and comparing it to all the other times Malfoy gave him reasons to be mad at him, Harry felt, that just maybe, it was quite possible for those eyes to mean something. After all, they say the eyes are the windows to the soul.
And then, Harry remembered the few months they were stuck together working on the potions project for Snape. Of course he took into consideration that he was under the spell of a very powerful love oil, which can change everything about a person, well rather give you the illusion that the person has changed, since most spells, or most folk magic spells, are all about illusions, and changing the perceptions of people. So, whenever he looked into the eyes of Draco, it was just a illusion that he saw love, he didn't really. Or was it?
This was the conflict that bubbled within Harry for days on end. Night after night, he'd lay awake in bed thinking while Ron was already off in dream land. Night after night, he'd see those eyes, and he could feel his hair between his fingers, as odd as they may sound. On many occasions, he'd touch his lips with the first two fingers of his right hand, and he'd remember all those times that Draco had kissed him, and all the times he had pushed him away. He still wondered whether it was out of fear, or if it was something else. He often contemplated if it was a combination of things, but he tried not to dwell on that too much.
And then, one night, one fateful night, Harry went to sleep and woke up the next morning with a completely different outlook on things. He was going to take everyone's advice. Draco scorned him, pushed him away when Harry was ready to confess all of his feelings for him, and that day when Harry was getting onto the train, Draco wouldn't even look at him. If Draco could so easily push him away, and pretend that he felt nothing, even though, deep down, Harry felt that he just might have, he could do it too. He was over Draco Malfoy.
This all at the time when Draco was getting ready to get Harry when the group was preparing for a Diagon Alley trip. All while he was planning on the best way to tell him how he's always felt about him. Draco was ecstatic, he could never be happier, because he was truly going to be happy for once. He was throwing off the restrictions that his parents placed upon him, he was going to be himself, the Draco Malfoy that not everyone had seen before. Not the bully, not the complainer, not the tattle-tail and cheat, but Draco Malfoy, the gay man, the lover, and romantic. The guy that would do anything for the man he loved, and when I say anything, I really mean anything. As much as it scared him, Draco was really ready to show Harry the true him.
He once heard his mother talking about love, and she said,"When you're ready to show someone the true you, without putting up any shields and without wearing any masks, you know you've found the one. And, if you are ready for them to accept you, at all times, and you aren't afraid of what they'll think of the true you, then you know, without a doubt, that it's love." This is one of the only times Draco ever listened to anything his mother told him, and one of the rare times he ever respected her teachings.
As he thought about it more and more, he realized that it was time to show Harry who he really is. He was tired of putting up a front, and not with just Harry, with everyone he every encountered. He was tired of coming off as the arsehole who was only in it for him, and screw everyone else that didn't fit into his perfectly planned and well thought out life, of which, was completely planned by his parents, and he had no hand in it. It was time that was stopped. He was sure, well rather he hopped that Harry was ready to accept the real him, a part of him felt he was, the other part felt he wasn't, however Draco wasn't that worried. Harry loved him, he knows this, and he loves Harry, that's all he needs to know.