"Harry," Hermione said as she sat down next to him. She tilted her head and tried to study him, but Harry hadn't been meeting their gaze ever since he had told them about his dream world. "I think there's something you haven't told us about your dream that has you deeply troubled. What is it?" she asked softly. "I know I'm being nosy, but we care about you, Harry and if we can help in any way, we will."
"Well, my parents," Harry murmured, even if that wasn't the real truth. He was troubled about the memories he now had of his parents, knowing they were just made up and he still didn't know his real parents at all, but that wasn't why he had suddenly become depressed."
"I may be dense sometimes, and damn it if Hermione doesn't always say I have the sensitivity of a teaspoon, but even I can see something is up and I don't reckon it's really about your parents," Ron said, surprising Harry by how well the redhead could read him.
'Well, we are best friends after all!' Harry thought to himself. Even though he knew it, honest to God he knew they were; he knew who he was, but he also knew another version of himself, and his life, and that was messing with his head. Why? Because Harry had been happy. There had been no real fear. Not of sudden death at the hands of an evil wizard, no fear of being scorned for loving a male; dream Harry didn't seem to worry about that once he admitted he was gay. The self-doubt he had must have been one of those hurdles Hermione talked about.
"You probably wouldn't understand if I tried to explain, not that I don't want to, because I mean we're friends, right? I mean... this is all so weird, guys. I know who you are, but.. I also have these other memories where, well, Hermione wasn't there, and Ron was just this goofy redhead who had a huge family. We talked once or twice and that was it. Sure, I know that part was a dream, but it's so hard, sometimes my memories get mixed up and..." The brunette sighed.
"Try to explain," Hermione said gently. " Perficio Somnium can be dangerous, Harry. Lesser wizards have been known to go mad and... well end it when their real world never matched up to their perfect world. Please let us in so we can help you. I never want that to happen and I never want you to have a reason to escape to your made-up world."
"Their life you mean?" Ron gasped. The redhead gave Harry a shocked look. He looked simply terrified at the idea of Harry being so depressed that he would try and kill himself.
"Yes, Ron." Hermione looked down, frowning.
"No way," Harry yelled defensively. "After everything I've been through, after all the different ways I've been almost murdered ever since year one, do you think I would do that? I know these dreams are messed up, but no matter how much they upset me, I could never, ever hurt myself on purpose like that." He loved too many people, and now he knew there were a lot of people who loved him, too. He couldn't fault people who had ended their lives though. Mental health struggles were something not even wizards could fix with the wave of a wand.
With a smile, Hermione nodded. "I know Harry, but you can't blame us for worrying. Now, please sit down and stop pacing and tell us what has got you all, well depressed. What happened in your dream world to make you this agitated and stressed?
Harry blinked; he hadn't even realized he was pacing. With a sigh, he walked over to a chair and sat down. "Don't say anything until I am done, or else I probably won't have the nerve to finish."
"All right," Hermione said. She smacked Ron when the redhead remained quiet. Ron jumped and then gave Harry a sheepish look before he agreed to stay quiet, too.
Harry wasn't so sure if he believed them, well Ron at least, but he gathered his courage to start telling them the truth anyway. At least that was his plan. As soon as he opened his mouth, Harry noticed something out of the corner of his eye.
Blonde hair, beautiful blonde hair, not slicked back, but free just the way he liked it, or at least the way the dream Harry liked it.
That was the way dream Draco wore his hair. Did the fact that the real Draco was wearing his hair this way mean anything? Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts.
When he turned to find Draco, the boy was no longer there. Harry frowned, before making what could have been described as a whine, like growl.
"You all right there, mate?" Ron asked. He gave Hermione a "What?!" look when the girl glared at him. "He hasn't started the damn story, I'm allowed to ask if he's okay. Did you hear him, he growled for goodness sake."
"I'm fine, now shut up," Harry half snapped. He was agitated knowing Draco could be nearby. What if Draco overheard them? "Sorry for snapping... I'm starting now."
"I was gay in my perfect world," Harry said quietly, barely breathing. He was terrified of his friend's reactions. Ron choked and Hermione softly gasped. It wasn't in disgust; just not something they had expected.
Neither seemed too bothered, so Harry supposed that was a good sign. "Before you break your word and ask me why being gay was perfect, I don't know, okay? All I know is that I was gay in my dream and... I think the feelings have carried over. I mean... I think in the real world I was already gay, though I didn't know it. It's so confusing... but that isn't the whole story. Not by a long shot."
Harry sucked in some air, before daring to continue, "I not only befriended Mal... D-Draco, I fell in love with him." Harry looked down at his feet, seeming so small and so afraid, yet he was trying to stay calm. "I know it's messed up and you might hate me now... well, probably not, but you won't understand. I still... well I'm so stressed... I think I still love Draco Malfoy and he, well he hates me, right?"
Ron's eyes darted back and forth, before the redhead raised his hand in the air and started to make "pick me" sounds.
Hermione gave her friend a perplexed look, before becoming annoyed. "What are you doing Ronald?" She asked.
"Well, as I didn't want you to yell at me for interrupting, though you yelled at me anyway, I wanted to see if I can talk now, damn it," Ron grumbled. Why did Hermione always make him feel like a little child? The way he acted probably didn't help things, he supposed.
"For crying out loud," Hermione murmured. "Talk away, Ron," but the girl gave him a warning look that said, "be nice."
Taking a breath, Ron licked his lips nervously. He didn't seem to know what to say. Finally, he couldn't help himself, "I don't care if you're gay, Harry, but Malfoy? He was your perfect soulmate or whatever? I mean I'd think if you dreamed yourself falling in love with someone then they're your soulmate... well, it's just weird, but... Malfoy?"
Ron knew he wasn't making much sense, but he doubted anyone would blame him. He was in fact, very much in shock. He didn't feel so jealous about Harry befriending Draco in his dream; at least now he knew why. Harry Potter was gay. The boy who lived was now the boy who was gay. He hoped that Rita wouldn't catch wind of this. There was nothing wrong with being gay, but the reporter would probably put a negative spin on it.
"I told you to be nice!" Hermione snapped. She smacked Ron's arm, making the redhead yell out. Hermione needed to stop doing that.
"You did not tell me to be nice, besides I wasn't being mean, was I Harry? I'm just... like whoa," Ron defended.
"I gave you the look," Hermione stressed.
"How am I supposed to know your look, Hermione?" Ron grumbled. "Look Harry sorry mate, but it's not something I ever expected to hear. I'm just not sure about this. You and Malfoy? He's... well... Gods..." Ron suddenly blushed, looking down at his shoes. "You two didn't... you know? Cause he'd remember, wouldn't he?"
Jumping up, Harry glared down at the redhead. "That is none of your ... no... Gods, you're straight, Ron, but still your mind goes to that? What are you the biggest pervert in the world?" Harry started to pace around the table, nearly making the other two dizzy.
"I'm glad you seem to be willing to get used to this, but... please... something you don't realize in the dream world Draco was... he wasn't... I can't explain it, but we had something. At first, he hated me just like normal, you know? But little by little I, we... well, started to understand each other, then well we were in love, or I was in love with him and he agreed to be together because he was, well I think he was just lonely and wanted someone, anyone who would love him."
Harry blushed. This was all too personal, even to tell to his best friends. "No matter what the real Draco is like, I still love him."
"And whether you understand or not, it's killing me that I have no idea what Draco is thinking. He remembers if you do Ron. I'm going crazy and he's also avoiding me. Which if we're honest isn't like him. He used to always seek us out every chance he got to start trouble." Harry rubbed his eyes, but no tears were there. Figures. He felt like he wanted to cry so badly, but he couldn't even manage to do that. This was so messed up.
Hermione though did have tears in her eyes; leave it to her to cry. She had a good heart. "Harry, before did you have any idea that you were attracted to Malfoy?" She asked gently. When Harry shook his head, she sighed.
"I don't know what we can do about these feelings, Harry. As far as I know they're real, and not just left over from the dream." She stood up and walked over to Harry. "I know you and I can tell you mean all of this with your heart. It's not some weird side effect, besides... You did dream in your perfect world that you were in love with Malfoy, so the only explanation is..."
"He's always liked Malfoy!" Ron exclaimed. "Oh snap, Harry. How could you not know that?" The redhead shook his head. "All this time... wow just wow."
"Louder, Ron! I don't think people in Hufflepuff heard you." Harry crossed his arms.
Ron had the decency to look embarrassed by the outburst.
"I don't know how I couldn't have known. Can you honestly see me being able to easily admit something like that? I mean... I just..." Harry swallowed hard, his face hardening.
'Be strong damn it. Stop breaking down. You're a Gryffindor. Act like it.' Harry sighed.
"We'll find a way to get Malfoy... Draco to like you," Hermione said. She smiled, feeling weird using Draco's first name, but it was for Harry's sake, after all. Still, she probably wouldn't be making it a habit.
"What we?" Ron blurted with a blink. "I am not playing matchmaker for Malfoy. That's just... he'll kill me. What am I supposed to do, go up and ask him what he thinks of Harry's bum?"
"What no," Harry yelled practically at the same time Ron started to spew his nonsense. "Do not do anything, it will only make it worse, I'm sure. Ron, grow up."
Hermione huffed. "Well fine, but I hate seeing you this way and Ronald, you do have the sensitivity of a teaspoon."
Harry knew his friends meant well, he did, but if they tried to help there was no telling what would happen. Wondering aimlessly around the halls, Harry looked like he was a dead man walking. His hair was more unkempt than usual, he had bags under his eyes and he looked thinner, not to mention he could probably use a bath. Harry snorted. Those things hardly seemed important now that his world was so screwed up. Harry shook his head. The last thing he needed to do was go around acting mental. He knew he was because the paintings were still gossiping whenever he passed them.
'I wish Draco were here... not to sound like a girl, I wish he could be here and in my arms. I want to look into his gray eyes and see for myself. Is hate or love there? I will settle for attraction, that would be better than nothing.' There was one thing about Harry that was true in both the dream world and the real world, he talked to himself a lot.
Harry barely had time to react when Crabbe and Goyle walked around the corner, spotting him. In front of them of course was none other than Draco Malfoy. Those two always followed Draco like he was a mother hen and they were chicks. Draco looked shocked to see Harry and if Harry wasn't mistaken, he looked a little embarrassed. Harry swallowed, before backing up when Crabbe and Goyle advanced on him, blubbering some nonsense.
"Looky here, what a surprise to find the famous Harry Potter alone," Goyle sneered. Crabbe laughed. Draco looked away, his hands clenching.
Crabbe was just about to hit Harry in the gut, when Draco yelled out in his thick English accent, "Crabbe, Goyle, stop playing around. We. Don't. Have. Time. For. This." Harry's eyes widened; did Draco just defend him? No of course he didn't. He was just in a hurry to get somewhere else.
Yeah, that was right. "Leave Potter alone, I am not going to be late," Draco snapped. "Treasure your lucky break Ha-Potter," Draco sneered at him, though was it Harry's imagination or did the sneer not meet his eyes?