Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Endurance	By : WinterRaven Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 29171 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of Harry Potter universe. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Thirteen
- 14-Fourteen
- 15-Fifteen
- 16-Sixteen
- 17-Seventeen
- 18-Eighteen
- 19-Nineteen
- 20-Twenty
- 21-Twenty-One
- 22-Twenty-Two
- 23-Twenty-Three
- 24-Twenty-Four
- 25-Twenty-Five
- 26-Twenty-Six
- 27-Twenty-Seven
- 28-Twenty-Eight
- 29-Twenty-Nine
- 30-Thirty
- 31-Thirty-One
- 32-Thirty-Two
- 33-Thirty-Three
- 34-Thirty-Four
- 35-Thirty-Five
- 36-Thirty-Six
- 37-Thirty-Seven
- 38-Thirty-Eight
- 16
- 17
- 18
Seventeen

They sat and enjoyed the beautiful evening together, Harry, Ron and Hermione. Harry went on to confess his potential feelings for Draco and though Ron was shocked, he accepted what he heard with grace. Like Hermione, Ron voiced the hope that Draco had changed. Harry couldn’t help but take that as a good sign. They parted in high spirits a few hours later and when Harry threw himself in his bed, he fell into a prompt, dreamless sleep.

The next morning, he was refreshed, less agitated and happier than he had felt in a long while. He took a shower, dressed, gathered his books for class and walked, energized, into the dining area. Elisha was awake, doused her in usual black and brewing herself a cup of tea over the stove.

“Morning,” Harry said, cheerful.

Elisha turned to him and examined him for a moment, her tired eyes zooming about him.

“What’s gotten into you?” she asked curiously.

“It went really well with Ron last night,” he said, taking at seat at the table. With a jolt, he realized that Draco had been at this very table the day before.

“Good!” Elisha said, moving toward him, cradling a mug between her pale palms. “I knew it would work out.”

She gave Harry a smile and sipped her tea.

“Have you eaten yet?” Harry asked.

She shook her head.

“Want to try and come down to the Great Hall again? If it’s packed, we can come back here.”

She seemed to mull over the prospect and was silent for some time, but eventually, she assented and after pulling on a long, dark cardigan, the two departed in silence to have breakfast. Harry wondered briefly if he should question her about their interaction with Draco yesterday but as he passed through the doors of the hall, he dispelled the thought.

The hall was much fuller than it was the day before. Perhaps it was because it was a little later in the morning, but each House table had within it scores of students enjoying eggs, bacon, toast and coffee. Though Harry was in a much better mood, he purposefully kept his gaze away from the Slytherin table. He failed to notice all eyes in the hall were on him.

It was when he and Elisha made their way to empty seats, that Harry heard murmurs following him; at first, he didn’t pay much attention to the sounds, thinking it was the general chatter of those around him, but as he approached his table and saw Ron and Hermione’s stricken faces staring at him from afar, Harry’s hearing suddenly blared into sharp focus.

“Did you hear?”

“—apparently, by the lake, he said so himself!”

“Gay? Really?”

“Harry Potter, gay?”

Harry froze in front of the Gryffindor table, the color draining from his face. Elisha was staring at him in fright. She turned to him, her face equally wan.

“How…how do those people know?” she whispered to him urgently. “Did you tell them?”

“No, of course not,” Harry muttered, his voice conveying the horrible, hollow feeling present in his chest. “I…I wanted to keep it between you, me, Ron and Hermione.”

Harry’s happiness deflated from him. Like a popped balloon, he stood, slumping over and grabbed his head in his hands. From the Slytherin table, Draco was watching Harry, not bothering to hide his stare; the blonde had heard the rumors as well, had heard the harsh whispers, nearly the same kind of whispers that still taunted him to this day. What he heard shocked him, caused his heart to race as uncontrollably as Harry’s did when he thought of the blonde. He wondered if it was true, part of him wished it were. He wondered how Potter would handle the attention.

But Harry had no idea how to deal with it. It seemed like every eye in the Great Hall was boring into him, burning his skin. He grabbed Elisha’s wrist and they both rushed over to Ron and Hermione. Harry sat down, trembling.

“Please tell me this is all a bad joke,” Harry whispered to his friends, his voice shaking.

“No,” Hermione said curtly. Harry was surprised to see her enraged. She too, was shaking, but with suppressed anger, her face splotched with red patches. Ron had a cautious arm around her shoulder.

“Someone overheard us,” Ron said quietly, his voice downtrodden.

Harry swore and his curses grew more uncontrolled as a handful of Gryffindors made their way down to his seat. He thought for a moment of running for it, bolting from the Great Hall and never showing his face again but the little group approached too quickly. The small cluster was led by Neville Longbottom. Dean, Seamus, Ginny and a lost looking Luna stood behind the boy, toeing around him. But Neville looked calm; he addressed Harry directly.

“Harry,” Neville said, his voice soft, but strong. What he said carried throughout the hall. “I—well, we—” he pointed to the particular set of students behind him, “just wanted to let you know that we’re comfortable with your sexuality, and we believe it’s your business and yours alone.”

Harry stared at him with his mouth slightly open, taken aback entirely.

“T-thank you,” Harry whispered, his mind oddly blank and buzzing.

“If you need anything, you can come talk to one of us,” Neville continued, glancing down at Harry kindly, but his eyes roamed over to Elisha, Ron and Hermione. He smiled; they all returned it except for Elisha who didn’t seem quite capable of facial expressions at the moment.

“I…I really appreciate that,” Harry said feebly.

There was a successive series of pats on the back as the little group dispersed around him. Ginny had given Harry a hug; from the other side of the hall, Draco’s eyes were narrowed into thin slits. The entire hall seemed to be turned to Harry, including most of the faculty table. The rumors had not escaped them and Snape who sat at the corner nearest Slytherin table was glancing over at Harry, agitated and nervous.

Harry turned back to his friends. Elisha’s hand was on his elbow, squeezing tightly.

“Wow,” Hermione whispered as Neville took his seat again. “That was so kind…”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, his voice even. “Yeah it was but… there’s something else I need to deal with now.”

“What’s that?” piped Ron.

“Did you hear who overheard us?”

Ron and Hermione’s faces became exceptionally stony.

“Yes,” they said in unison. Harry felt crestfallen at their expressions.

“Who—?”

“Cho Chang,” Hermione snarled, jerking her head in the direction of the Ravenclaw table.

Harry felt as though his stomach had completely left his body. Elisha peered at him curiously.

“Who?” she whispered.

But Harry’s mouth was so dry he could not speak. Ron explained she was Harry’s ex-girlfriend. He thought he would cry but a new emotion rose in him—something terrible and snarling and animalistic—vengeance. Harry did not know what made him do it. He rose from his seat as though a zombie, much to the protest of Ron and Hermione. Elisha did not follow him immediately, but eventually all three did. Harry was walking with vigor to the Ravenclaw table, passing, he thought wildly, hundreds of eyes, glaring at him—but he didn’t care. He had one person to speak to now, one task to complete.

From the other end of the hall, Draco stood too, towering, alone.

Harry found Cho easily; she was surrounded by a gangly group of giggling girls, who upon seeing Harry’s infuriated face, ran from her at once. She turned around, her long, straight black hair flipping about her round cheeks and high forehead. Her eyes caught Harry and she gave a little gasp of surprise.

“Oh!” she squealed, “Harry—”

“No,” Harry snarled, moving so quickly he stunned himself. She recoiled in her seat. “I’m talking, not you.”

He didn’t know where the rage came from, but he knew it was taking over, fast, setting his blood on fire, his thoughts, his hands—his fingers itched to curl into a fist and punch something. He stooped low so he and Cho were eye to eye. His green eyes were glinting with righteousness, her big brown ones were swimming in fear.

“Why?” was all Harry asked.

“I…I was on the lawn last night, I just…I heard you!” she whimpered. The entire Ravenclaw table was silent in awe. Ron, Hermione and Elisha appeared, standing a foot behind Harry, glaring dutifully at Cho. She caught sight of them and recoiled further, so she was sinking lower and lower on the bench.

Harry had no pity.

“That was supposed to be between me and people I actually give a shit about,” Harry said, his voice rising. His entire body was shaking. “What gave you the right—”

“I just couldn’t believe I did this to you,” was her quiet interruption.

“You?” Harry said in a mocking voice. He started laughing maniacally; he looked deranged. “You! You think this has anything to do with you—this has nothing—”

“Having fun?” came a new voice, a drawling voice, a voice also shaking with built up frustration and rage.

Harry spun around, sputtering. Standing right next to him, so their shoulders were merely inches apart, was Draco Malfoy. Harry gaped at him, took in the tall figure dressed in a clean, black suit and staggered sideways. Draco paid him no heed; his malevolent eyes were glued on Cho’s clammy face; she seemed to have lost all the color from her skin. The blonde was radiating danger.

“So Chang,” Malfoy whispered, staying directly by Harry’s side, “Have a problem with gays, do you?”

Harry’s mouth fell open; he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, seeing, experiencing. Every nerve in his body was tingling, uncontrolled. Was Malfoy defending him?

“No!” Cho yelped, visibly trembling now. She was not the only one who showed terror at Malfoy’s appearance. A few of the students had vacated their seats almost instantly. Cho’s voice had reached such a high pitch she sounded like a wounded dog. “No, I—”

“Because it sure seems like you do. And if you have a problem with gays, you’ll have to answer to me. Is that understood?”

She was forming incoherent words, but next to her, someone else spoke up clearly.

“Why are you defending Potter?” came the strong voice of Cho’s best friend, Marietta—the same girl who sold the D.A. out last year. With grim satisfaction, Harry saw Hermione’s curse, the mark ‘Sneak’ still lay upon her forehead, though covered in heavy makeup.

“Who said I’m defending anyone but myself?” Malfoy retorted silkily, adjusting his black tie with his large hands. “More importantly, no one asked your opinion you filthy little—”

Draco stopped and pursed his lips together, as if restraining himself. Harry knew exactly what he was about to say, having heard the blonde utter the word so many times before—Mudblood—but he didn’t do it this time. Harry watched him in surprise. Draco composed himself almost immediately but Marietta continued with a taunt and a laugh breaking from her lips: “Seems to me like you two are dating.”

Some of the other Ravenclaws jeered. Harry felt his blood run cold, but Draco responded with an icy tone that shut everyone up instantly.

“Heaven forbid. And even if we did, it wouldn’t be any of your concern, would it?”

“I—uh—” she stammered.

“Well now that this is settled,” Malfoy continued as though there were no pause in his behavior. “I’ll be off. Don’t let me hear about your insolence again, Chang.”

He turned on his heel without another word and marched toward the entrance doors. Harry, without pausing to think, left the group of people staring at him with their mouths open. Ron, Hermione and Elisha exchanged looks with raised eyebrows but Harry’s concern was to get to Malfoy and get to him fast.

Draco marched quickly, his back straight and proud. He exited the hall in a few seconds time, pulling at his crisp black blazer as he went. Harry had to walk just as fast behind him to keep up with his long strides. Mutters and stares followed Draco with each pace, and each set of eyes settled from him to Harry; girls put their heads together and began whispering; many of the boys glanced away, almost as if they were worried the Draco and Harry would contaminate them.

In the silence and blissful emptiness of the entrance hall, Harry stopped. The Great Hall doors shut behind him with a clang. It was only him and Draco.

“Malfoy,” he said, his voice clear and strong and echoing throughout the space.

Draco stopped abruptly and turned slowly on his heel to face Harry. They were only a foot or two apart. The two stared at each other for a few moments, but Harry felt no fear or nervousness this time; his heart did not beat rapidly, his blood did not burn in his veins. He gave Draco a look of mingled gratefulness and curiosity. He examined the eyes before him, examined the face, the jaw, the lips.

“You should watch the company you keep,” Draco whispered. His eyes glinted.

“I know neither Ron, Hermione, nor Elisha said anything to anyone,” Harry said flatly, crossing his arms.

“Then you should chose your meeting places more wisely,” Draco retorted, not biting back the sarcasm. “If you are in fact…gay, you need to watch out.”

“And why is that?”

Draco raised his eyebrows.

“Homosexuality is not well tolerated in our world, Potter,” the blonde whispered. “I don’t know how it is in…your Muggle society…but here, it’s considered abominable.”

Harry blinked.

“So why did you come out then?” Harry couldn’t help but ask.

Draco gave him a sardonic smile now.

“What’s the point of lying—?”

“But you knew you’d be persecuted—”

Draco gave a hollow laugh that made the hairs on Harry’s neck stand up. It was a harsh, cold laugh, a reminder that somewhere, Draco was closed off and sneering as ever; his eyes were glinting malevolently. He adjusted his blazer again before speaking.

“I wasn’t aware it would be this bad,” the blonde responded.

Harry stared at him.

“Do you regret it?” Harry asked, unsure why he was being so casual with his enemy.

Draco seemed to contemplate the question before he whispered, “No.”

The two stared at each other again but Harry wasn’t finished.

“Why did you help me? You didn’t have to,” Harry asked, the question practically spilling from him.

Draco seemed to be struggling with himself. His lips parted as if to say words but then shut again.

With courage that Harry didn’t know he had, he stepped forward and closed the space between them. As in his dreams, they were now inches apart but this time it was he that made the motion. Draco did not move, flinch or make any change in facial expression. He surveyed Harry coolly, his eyes roaming Harry’s face and features, drinking in the chiseled cheekbones, the beautiful jaw line, the uneven stubble, those blazing emerald eyes; Harry felt a blush rising in his face but he too kept his ground. He did not realize how much Draco struggled to keep himself still, to stop himself from leaping forward and smothering Harry's mouth with his own. He could tell Harry wanted an answer so he forced himself to speak instead.

“I know I didn’t have to. I could have sat back at my table and watched you and that idiot girl row it out but… but no one should have to deal with this alone,” was the quiet response.

“Thank you,” Harry whispered. A pause, then, “You’ve changed.”

“Is it that noticeable?” Draco said, amused.

“Very.”

“Wisdom comes to you when you’re persecuted.”

“Does it?”

“Certainly.”

“So what are we now?” Harry asked, his voice trembling.

“We?”

Harry cursed himself inwardly; Draco was giving him a peculiar look. Harry could not decipher it.

“I suppose we…we’re…at an understanding,” the blonde said slowly.

“Right.”

“Or did you want something more?” Draco whispered.

Harry gulped. Draco’s eyes were shining.

“I—I don’t know.”

“Did you want friendship?” Draco asked, stepping forward and closing the space almost entirely.

Harry’s breath hitched in his throat; the cogs in his brain ceased functioning. They were almost nose to nose; Harry could count the blonde eyelashes, the little freckles on Malfoy’s face, the precise areas on his stunning skin where red, flushed patches were. He was truly beautiful; Harry had never seen such a magnificent being before.

“I…I…you—” Harry sputtered; he didn’t know what he wanted to say. His brain was on lockdown. With a jolt, Harry realized that Draco was breathing slowly, labored, his pink lips parted slightly; Draco’s eyes were jumping from Harry’s mouth to his wide, green orbs. Harry wanted to say something, do something, act, but he was rooted to the spot. Harry could have sworn he saw Draco’s hands move forward, as if reaching out to him but then—

Both boys jumped when someone gave a tiny gasp behind them.

Ron, Hermione and Elisha stood a few feet back, having exited the Great Hall. Ron and Hermione were staring in shock but Elisha had moved forward; Harry saw her eyes were glowing.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt!” she said nervously, her face flushed. She looked as if she wanted to smack herself.

“You interrupted nothing,” Draco said briskly but his voice was not harsh. He moved from Harry with such speed that was a blur.

Draco walked to Elisha and without a word, hugged her close to him. The two remained in an embrace for a minute before they pulled apart. Harry felt the sting of jealousy in his chest. He wished Draco would hold him that way.

Elisha whispered something to the blonde that no one else could hear. Draco smiled softly.

“I should go,” Draco said aloud. “Class starts soon.”

Ron and Hermione were silent. Draco turned.

“Take care of yourself Harry,” he whispered so only the raven-haired boy could hear. With a nod to Ron and Hermione and a light squeeze on Elisha’s shoulder, the blonde departed up the stairs and out of sight, leaving four stunned teenagers behind.

*

Harry could not concentrate for the rest of the day. Though he sat in his first Defense Against the Dark Arts class that morning with Lupin reinstated as professor, the boy had only one thing on his mind—Draco. Harry didn’t even notice his classmates staring at him oddly, he didn't care. They were sharing class with Hufflepuffs today and the majority kept giving Harry awkward glances.

Lupin, who looked as shabby and worn down as ever, was babbling about particular defensive spells, seemingly unaware that the majority of his class was distracted. Harry vaguely registered Hermione’s quick motions as she took fast notes, but nothing was sticking into Harry’s head. Ron, who was sitting next to him, eventually pushed a note to Harry.

What happened between you and Malfoy? the note read.

Harry stared at it for a while and did not respond right away. They had departed to class immediately after Draco left them and Harry still hadn’t had a chance to explain himself. Ron poked him on the shoulder to prompt him to answer.

The boy took his pen and scribbled: We just talked.

He passed the paper back to Ron, who examined it before penning something in return. What Harry saw next made his heart stop.

Do you think he likes you?

Harry’s quill hung in the air. His mind was racing with the question and with a twinge in his stomach, he realized he did not know the answer. Did Draco like him? Could this be possible? What else would explain the blonde’s sudden interference in Harry’s life? The fact that he was being a lot kinder to the boy this year than last…the fact that he had, in public, come to Harry’s aid. Maybe Malfoy felt a connection because they were both gay, both now considered outcasts…maybe that was all…but the fluttering in Harry’s heart told him there might be more going on than he wanted to admit.

Harry wrote back: I don’t know.

Ron left it at that.

Class was dismissed with tremendous amounts of homework. Harry skipped the dining hall entirely for lunch and went, at his insistence, alone to Snape’s quarters. He was hoping to find Elisha and speak to her, but instead, he ran headlong into Snape, who was standing outside his door, seemingly waiting for Harry to arrive. The man stared at him for a long moment; Harry felt like a child caught in a bad act, even though he knew he had done nothing wrong.

Snape pursed his lips together. Was he angry?

“Come in and have a seat at the table,” was all Snape said.

Harry obeyed nervously as he entered the quarters. Snape snapped the entrance door shut and followed, as silent as wind. Harry felt his heart hammering in his chest as he sat down. Snape pulled a chair opposite to him.

“I’ve heard the rumor,” the Potions Master said without prompt in a quiet voice, “but I’m not here right now to lecture you on your sexuality. You’re lucky, Harry, that I’m an open-minded man; most wizards condemn homosexuality. Most wizards would shun you and cast you out.”

Harry blinked but said nothing.

“What I’m here to do, however,” Snape continued, leaning forward, his dark eyes boring into Harry’s, “is lecture you on how to watch out for yourself.”

“What?” Harry said, surprised.

“Lesson one,” Snape said, as though Harry had not interrupted him, “You need to conduct your business in private from now on. Going out onto the lawn was foolish.”

Harry felt the color rising in his face.

“I didn’t think—”

“That anyone would hear you?” Snape whispered; he was angry. “Everyone listens to you, Harry. You’re more famous than you seem to comprehend. You need to ensure that only the right ears hear what you have to say.”

“You sound like Malfoy,” Harry said sourly.

Snape’s mouth twitched.

“We’ll get to him in a moment,” the man said, making Harry feel even more nervous. “But before that, you need to prepare yourself for what is to come.”

“Meaning?”

“You may lose your friends. You will be talked about constantly. Persecuted. Hated—”

“My friends won’t leave me,” Harry said, sitting up straight. He spoke with shaky confidence. “Ron and Hermione were understanding. Elisha has always been gracious. And…and some Gryffindors told me today they support me.”

Snape pursed his lips together.

“You’re lucky,” he said curtly. “Not many gay wizards can say such a thing.”

“I know I’m lucky,” Harry repeated, breathing a little easier now. “I don’t care about anyone else’s opinions—”

“But you must,” Snape cut him off. “You don’t live in a bubble, Harry. You are surrounded by hundreds of students, by hundreds of people. This will be front-page news tomorrow morning, mark my words. You must care what the world says about you. You must be aware and you must promise me—no, swear to it—that if you ever need to discuss something this serious again, you will do it in here, in my chambers, where I know you will not be overheard.”

Harry did not say anything for a moment.

“Harry, swear it.”

“I swear,” the boy whispered, looking down. He was prompted by the urgency in Snape’s voice.

“Good. And promise me you’ll always be on your guard.”

“On my guard?”

Snape gave him a look of pity.

“You don’t seem to understand the seriousness of the situation—”

“You…you’re making it seem like I’m going to be attacked,” Harry said, not biting back the fear in his voice.

Snape sighed.

“Are…are you serious? People are going to try to hurt me—?”

“They might,” Snape finally said. “There have been no attacks thus far but…there might be. There's always that chance. So please, always have your wand ready. Practice your dueling skills with your friends. Elisha is a gifted dueler—talk to her—or if you’d like, you and I can practice basic spells.”

Harry groaned and put his head in his hands.

“Why is it so bad, why is it so wrong?” the boy choked out.

Snape leaned forward more.

“You’re not going to like what I’m about to say,” the man warned.

“I don’t care,” Harry whispered. “Just say it.”

Snape sighed and said in a quiet voice, “To the ignorant, who value blood purity over anything else in this life, continuing the wizarding race is the most important reason we exist.” He paused and continued, “Ideally, Purebloods must marry Purebloods—they must keep the lines of our ancestry clean. Marrying outside blood purity is considered sinful, but…but it is not as terrible as homosexuality because a man and a woman can produce offspring…thus, a man and a woman can continue the wizarding race, even if it is a little less pure than before. But two men…two women, they can add nothing to society; their union is considered the lowest, the weakest—”

“Stop!” Harry snarled.

“I’m sorry,” Snape said, staring at Harry with concern. “You know I don’t believe those things. I daresay you will find a few liberal minded people…but there are maniacs in the world.”

“This isn’t my fault!” Harry yelled now, overblown with passion. He jumped from his seat. “It’s not my fault I feel this way—you think I want this? I was raped—I…I…this must make me sick and twisted—”

“No,” Snape hissed harshly. “No.” He too stood from his chair, towering over Harry. “How dare you say those things about yourself? How dare you? Show yourself some respect, some value.”

“How am I supposed to if everything is working against me?” Harry shouted.

“You yourself said your friends support you! You have love in your life! You have people you can rely on. You have myself, my daughter, the Headmaster. You even have Mr. Malfoy for goodness sake!”

Harry stared.

“If Draco Malfoy is on your side,” Snape continued, stepping forward and looking at Harry imploringly, “you are safe. You don’t seem to realize the influence, the power the Malfoy family commands in our society. Draco Malfoy, though he is…is gay has not been rejected by his father or mother. Their support is his greatest strength. His name still commands respect.”

“So as long as he’s nice to me, I’m fine?” Harry said with a barking laugh. “Malfoy and I have been enemies since the day we met. He was only defending me today because he was defending gay people in general—”

“I don’t care what his motivations are!” Snape snapped. “The fact is, you have garnered yourself an extremely powerful ally… People see your worth, Harry, whatever you may think. I doubt very much any of your friends or even someone you consider an enemy like Draco Malfoy, views you as sick or twisted. Don’t think these things of yourself.” Snape paused to catch his breath and then said, “Yes…yes, you were assaulted this summer, but look how far you’ve come! Don’t sink down into despair, otherwise, everyone who is against you wins and you lose.”

“Easy for you to say!” Harry screamed, suddenly full of annoyance. Did Snape not understand? “You’re straight!”

Snape gave him a glowering look.

“What makes you so sure?” the man hissed.

Harry blinked.

“No way,” the boy whispered, his eyes wide. “No…no way—”

Snape breathed deeply and sat down again before confessing, “I am and have always been… mostly attracted to men.”

“Mostly?” Harry said in a hollow voice.

“I consider myself bisexual.”

“But…that means you’ve been with women.”

“Only one,” Snape whispered. “The rest…have been men.”

“So…you might as well be gay.”

Snape laughed.

“Harry, sexuality is a many layered and intricate thing. It is idiotic to think there are only two modes of desire: straight or gay. You leave no room for everything in between if you stick to those binaries.”

“I…I guess…” Harry whispered, looking away.

He could not believe Snape told him something so personal, so secret. The man must care for him if he was being so open, and had been so open, since the summer. Harry sighed, calming himself.

“I…I don’t know what to say,” Harry finally muttered. “But thank you for…for looking out for me.”

“That’s what I’m here to do.”

Harry glanced up at him.

“How did you deal with it? When you told everyone you were gay?” Harry asked.

Snape gave him a sad smile.

“I never did,” the man whispered. “You, my partner and precious few others are the only people who know.”

“So you’ve…you’ve kept this to yourself mostly?”

“Of course I have. It is the best way to stay safe.”

Harry sighed.

“You really think I’m in danger?” the boy asked.

Snape paused for a moment.

“I think there is always the potential, but like I said, be on your guard.”

“And what do you think of Malfoy…helping me?” Harry whispered, a blush rising in his face.

Snape peered at him curiously.

“I think it makes you very lucky, Harry. It means you are not alone.”

TBC

Author's Note: Thanks again to everyone who's read and reviewed! I always appreciate that. I wanted to let everyone know that I will be trying to post every day until the end of August. I'm aiming for this story to be completed before September at around thirty-five or forty chapters, so please let me know how you think everything is progressing! The story will take off at a much quicker pace starting next chapter. So I hope you're all enjoying it! :)
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Endurance