Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Say My Name	By : Thunderbird Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 30143 -:- Recommendations : 10 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any affiliated characters. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
A/N: Thanks as always for the reviews!
Ahhh, the morning after... this went some places I didn't expect, but I hope you enjoy it!
Just as an aside, I recognize that I am getting into serious OOC territory with Draco in this chapter. It's just the way things unfolded, but I also feel it is justified in that post-war Draco is really different from pre-war Draco, for understandable reasons. And in my opinion, he would have to change somewhat to be compatible with Harry in the long run. And that's the end goal, isn't it? :)
Chapter 6: Hold Up
Harry crawled into bed early and slept soundly. It was the sleep of the content, of the satisfied, the kind of sleep he had not enjoyed for a long time.
So it was unexpected that he would awake with tendrils of regret curling in the pit of his stomach, with a thought that belied all of the serenity he had felt the previous night.
I may have just done something very stupid.
It was one thing to fantasize about what he wanted to do to the Malfoy heir. It was another thing entirely to act on it. Yet Harry had always been impulsive, and he wondered if he really should be surprised at himself at all. He had thought enough about snogging Draco, and touching him, and making him come, that was it really any wonder that he had done just that, when the chance presented itself? And it wasn’t like Draco had been complaining. Harry certainly wouldn’t have forced himself on the man. But, receiving all the right signals, he was spurred forward, to quite delicious ends.
But what now? Was this the beginning of something, or simply a way for two men with a mutual attraction to relieve some tension? He had never done anything like that before, quick and dirty in an empty classroom, and he had never thought himself the type to look for sexual gratification without an emotional foundation to underlie it.
But Draco might feel differently. He was not like Ron and Hermione, who believed they had found their soul mate in each other and were already planning out the rest of their lives. Draco had plans for his education, giving himself time to think about his career. A vision of a relationship and a family was down the line, and far from immediate, at least based on the way Harry had heard him talk about it. Was Draco even looking for a relationship at this point?
And did Harry really want a relationship with Draco Malfoy, of all people? Sure, they were getting along better than ever, and the attraction was certainly there, but most of their interactions consisted of joking around and teasing each other, with only a few personal details shared in rare moments. Relentless taunting and great sexual chemistry did not a relationship make. Harry wanted to be with someone who knew him as well as Ron and Hermione did, better even. He wanted someone who could be privy to all of his secrets, to the darker, uglier parts of his past, without passing judgment. Someone he didn’t have to be perfect for, who he could be vulnerable with.
But all relationships have to begin somewhere, Harry thought. He couldn’t expect something with that level of depth to take shape in a few weeks. It required time, and work.
Did he want to invest that kind of energy in Draco? Had things changed enough to justify such an investment?
At least something with him has shifted, Harry thought, seeing as he exists as Draco now, in my head, rather than Malfoy. But that alone wasn’t enough.
Of course, it was all a moot point until he knew what Draco wanted. If he didn’t want a repeat, or wanted something open and casual, then the answer was simple. If he wanted a relationship with Harry, then Harry would have to decide if he felt the same way, and they would go from there. And if Draco was unsure… well… they’d just have to figure it out together.
But it all relied on talking to Draco, something Harry found himself both anticipating and dreading in equal measure.
***
Harry caught his first glimpse of Draco since “the incident” the very next morning at breakfast, but he was surrounded by fellow Slytherins and Harry very much doubted approaching the table would be appreciated. The most public place in the castle was most definitely not the place to have this sort of confrontation.
The problem was, Draco seemed to vanish completely after breakfast. Harry had it in mind to follow the Slytherin out of the Great Hall and try to catch him once he was alone. But he had been distracted by Ron, who had reminded him that he needed to speak with McGonagall about giving up the captaincy, a task that Harry had all but forgotten about in the wake of his unexpected tryst with Draco after the party. Knowing he should get it over with, he approached the staff table and had what he had hoped would be a quick chat with the headmistress about the change. Naturally, though, she had questions aplenty, and by the time the conversation was over and the issue settled, many of the students had already cleared out for breakfast, including Draco.
Harry checked the library, the Hogwarts grounds, the Astronomy tower, and the 8^th year dormitories, but couldn’t find Draco anywhere. There were only a handful of possibilities for other places he could be, one of which was the Slytherin common room, which Harry couldn’t enter. And he didn’t exactly feel like scouring the whole of the massive castle looking for him either.
He’s avoiding me. Well, that’s just great. Harry couldn’t think of any other explanation. If Draco wanted to talk to him, he would have made himself more accessible than this. He had never found it challenging to track down Harry in the past. So the only logical conclusion was that the blond was avoiding Harry, and there was only one reason he would do that.
Draco wasn’t interested.
Harry flopped down onto one of the armchairs in the common room with a heavy sigh, trying not to feel too dejected. He knew this might be a possibility. He had tried to prepare himself for it. And it wasn’t like Harry was sure of what he wanted either. But he was hoping to at least talk to the bloke. He wanted to be sure, at least, that their friendship, which he had really come to value, hadn’t been completely ruined.
Tomorrow morning’s Potions, Harry remembered, and that cheered him up a bit. They would be starting on the brewing and experimentation phase of their project, and they would have to interact.
Harry would get his conversation. He was determined to.
***
Harry’s stomach writhed unpleasantly as he entered the Potions classroom. Draco was already there, in the process of setting up his cauldron, and Harry gave Ron and Hermione a quick wave before heading over to join him.
“Morning,” Harry said as he sat down, glad his voice sounded normal, at least to his own ears.
“Morning,” Draco replied without looking up.
“Had a good Sunday?” Harry asked, cringing internally at the inane attempt at small talk. But he hoped he would get Draco to at least look at him.
“Just lots of homework, the usual.” Draco’s voice was not its old drawl, but nor was it the amiable tone that was becoming more commonplace for the Slytherin those days. Rather it was flat, and perhaps it a bit bored. “You?”
Harry swallowed. He couldn’t help feeling the sting of Draco’s indifference, even if it was feigned. “Just homework as well,” he replied, keeping his tone chatty. “And I had to talk to McGonagall about giving up captain.”
Draco let out a small grunt of acknowledgment, his gaze focused on the notes he was arranging meticulously in front of him.
Slughorn called the class to order, and told them it was to be a project workday. Most teams left for the library, while those three who were ready to begin experimenting stayed in the classroom and set up their brewing stations.
“While it would be more efficient to set up two cauldrons and brew simultaneously,” Draco said to Harry in his know-it-all tone, “I don’t think we should. This potion is a tricky blighter and something very easily could go wrong. I think we should brew them one at a time.”
Harry agreed readily enough.
“We should both take copious notes,” Draco went on. “Especially after we add the new ingredient.”
“Sure, of course,” Harry said. He wanted to hex Draco, or grab him by the shoulders and shake him, something. Anything that would make Draco actually look at him.
But now they were starting the brewing process, prepping the ingredients carefully and focusing on the precise timing required for the first few stages of the potion. The work required all of Harry’s attention, especially since he was determined to do it perfectly and show Draco he was competent after all. Wanting Draco’s approval was a new feeling, but that didn’t make it any less potent.
After an hour of meticulous stirring, wand timer resetting, and excessive note-taking, the pair finally reached last stage of brewing, where the potion stewed undisturbed for a little over twenty minutes before the final ingredient was added and it was immediately removed from the heat. It meant Harry could stretch at last, and heard his back crack with stiffness of being hunched over the potion for so long.
It also meant that he could make Draco talk to him, without anything else to distract them. Draco was still taking notes, but Harry wasn’t going to let that stop him.
“I was hoping to catch you at some point yesterday, actually,” Harry said casually.
But Draco obviously knew better, because he stiffened, his quill pausing mid-sentence. Harry watched his Potions partner’s handsome profile with bated breath, wondering what Draco would say.
“Is that so?” the Slytherin managed finally.
“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were avoiding me.” Harry made sure to keep his voice low, not that anyone around them was listening in. But he knew Draco would appreciate discretion, and Harry wanted to be discrete himself.
“I wasn’t,” Draco said stiffly.
“Good,” Harry said. “Then we should talk. About the other night.”
Draco did finally look at him, his neck snapping sharply to meet gray eyes with green. “Not here,” he practically hissed.
“Where, then? And when?”
“After class.” Draco’s voice was clipped.
“How do I know you’re not just going to rush out of here the moment we’re done, and then just keep on avoiding me?”
“I told you I wasn’t…” Draco’s jaw clenched a little as he closed his eyes and took a breath. “I was just thinking. There’s nothing wrong with taking some time to think.”
“All right...” Harry said.
“I’ve Ancient Runes right after this. Meet me there before lunch and we’ll talk then.”
“Good then,” said Harry, finding himself relieved, and yet somehow even more nervous than before.
***
Harry had free period after Potions, but he hardly put it to good use. He spent most of it in the 8^th year common room staring into the fire and thinking about what he wanted to say to Draco. And then he started to speculate about what Draco would say to him, and he found himself pacing the room aimlessly, unable to remain still for more than a few seconds. With agonizing slowness time ticked by, until at last it was time for Harry to meet Draco in the corridor outside the Ancient Runes classroom.
It all felt so ridiculous and overblown, Harry realized as he made his way to their meeting spot. Why couldn’t Draco just say what he wanted to say in the Potions classroom? No one was listening in. Why couldn’t they just have a chat, like two friends, rather than make a big to-do about it all. It was highly likely that Draco was just going to reject Harry anyway, so why all the buildup?
Unless he’s not going to reject me. Harry’s heart fluttered at the thought. What if Draco wanted…?
Classes had just released and Harry saw the Ancient Runes classroom door open and 8^th years come striding out one-by-one. Harry spotted Hermione, cursed his own stupidity, and thought about turning away. But she had already seen him.
“Hi, Harry!” she greeted him. “What are you doing here?”
Harry opened his mouth to answer with some made up excuse, and then realized the truth was always the better answer. “Just needed to have a quick word with Malfoy,” Harry said, making sure to use the Slytherin’s last name. “But I’ll see you at lunch, yeah?”
Hermione tilted her head and gave Harry one of those looks that indicated she knew something funny was going on, but luckily she didn’t press. “Sure, Harry,” she said, just as Draco was approaching them. “See you in a bit.”
He gave her a friendly wave and waited until she rounded the corner before turning his attention to Draco, who was looking at him impassively.
“Shall we?” Harry asked.
“Over here,” Draco said, leading them down the now empty corridor and into an unused classroom. Harry couldn’t help but blush a little at their circumstances, remembering all that had transpired the last time they had been alone in a classroom together.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re thinking about,” Draco said, his tone dark, and a little husky. It made Harry shiver.
“Then I suppose you’re thinking the same thing,” Harry replied, unsurprised to hear his voice had gone a little throaty as well.
“No,” Draco said quickly, and shook his head. “I mean yes, I am. But… I mean…” Harry watched the Slytherin as he took deep, even breaths and stared at the floor. “It was unexpected.”
“Yeah, it was,” Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck in that way he always did when he was uncomfortable. He hadn’t felt this nervous, or this exposed, since before Voldemort’s death. “I didn’t know I was going to do that, honestly. It just sort of happened. The thought popped into my head that I wanted to do it, so I did.”
“Well, as you said, that’s sort of your new thing now, isn’t it? Doing what you want, when you want?”
Harry found himself grimacing. When put like that, it sounded much more selfish and arrogant than he would ever want it to be. “Only if the other person wants it, too.”
“Of course,” Draco said neutrally. “It wasn’t as if I stopped you.”
“No,” Harry said. “You didn’t.” He wanted to point out that it was much more than that. Draco had kissed him back, with abandon. Draco had removed his robes. Draco had said “yes” when Harry asked permission. But he wasn’t sure that would be appreciated.
“So,” Draco said, breaking the silence. “What do you want now?”
That is the question, isn’t it? Harry thought. The problem was, being alone with Draco again like this was clouding his judgment. The blond looked as immaculate and beautiful as ever. Of course, Harry most preferred Draco fresh out of the shower, barefoot, with slightly messy hair, and in Muggle pajamas, but this was a close second. When Draco was polished and perfect, he held himself with a grace that was impossible not to envy. Harry knew it was probably just his raging teenage hormones, but what he wanted in that moment was to get closer to Draco, to put one hand on that slim waist, and the other on his flawless cheek, to pull Draco flush against him, to put his mouth on that neck, on those lips. He remembered how solid Draco was, and also how passionate. And how sweet that mouth tasted.
But these were the very thoughts that had gotten him into this mess, and he knew he had to control himself. He had to find out what Draco wanted first.
“At this point,” Harry said. “I would just really like some honesty. Whatever you’re thinking, I’d like to know it. That’s what I want.”
Draco eyed Harry carefully for a long time, his fingers steepled together and pressed to his lips. “All right,” he said finally, softly. “What I’m thinking is hard to say. It’s embarrassing. But you said you wanted honesty, so…”
“I do,” Harry said, feeling his heart starting to pound. “I really do. I promise you I won’t taunt you for it.”
That seemed to be the right thing to say, because Draco nodded. He cleared his throat, and looked down at the floor. “I’ve wanted to be your friend for a very long time,” he said, his voice still soft. “Your rejection on the train our first year… that stung. A lot. I’m sure you know that.”
Harry nodded, although he wasn’t sure if Draco saw.
“Ever since then…” Draco went on. “Well, I was a real shit. I know that. There were a lot of reasons, but the reason I was so awful to you specifically was because you rejected me, and I didn’t understand why. And the reason I was so awful to Weasley and Granger is because I was jealous of them.”
Draco met Harry’s eyes, then, and Harry looked back, hoping the look he was giving was encouraging and friendly, without looking smug.
“I’m sure that’s no great revelation to you. My actions were fairly transparent. I’ve always felt they were. I always thought you probably saw through me.” He paused, and seemed to be waiting for a response.
“I thought you were probably angry about the rejection,” Harry said. “And then, after a while, I figured you just really hated me, generally. I wasn’t exactly nice to you, either. As time went on we just kept making it worse and worse with each other.”
Draco nodded his agreement. “Yes, it was all quite stupid, really. But at the time… well, the last thing I ever wanted you to know was that I really just wanted to be close to you.”
Harry swallowed, his heart starting to pound again.
“I would have done so many things differently if…” but he trailed off, not completing the thought. “The point is, even after everything, I couldn’t turn you in to the Dark Lord, at the manor, even though I knew it was you, and then you saved my life from the Fiendfyre. And then you spoke up for me and my mother at our trials. And then you sat down next to me in Potions and asked to be my partner and… well, here we are. I don’t really understand it, but…” Draco ran a hand through his hair, not a usual gesture for him, since it disheveled his impeccable look. Harry couldn’t help but think that it revealed exactly how nervous Draco was, and he felt his stomach clench pleasantly. “Merlin, as if the rest wasn’t mortifying enough.” He shook his head back and forth, as though clearing it. “The truth is that the one thing I have left to be really afraid of now is that I will lose the this thing I’ve wanted for so long. I never thought I would have it, but now I do, and I can’t… I don’t want it to get bollocksed up, not just because I’m gay and horny, and you’re free and exploring your options and… I don’t want to make this complicated. This friendship is the best thing I have right now and I want it to stay that way. As a friendship.”
Elation and disappointment battled momentarily in Harry’s chest. It warmed him to hear that their friendship meant so much to Draco, since it meant a lot to Harry, too. And it was incredible, and a testament to how far they’d come, that Draco was even willing to admit it.
But, Harry wanted… more. He was clear about that more than ever.
But Draco doesn’t. And he’s already given me so much. How could Harry justify pushing this?
And Draco made an excellent point. While this friendship was turning out to be quite nice, it was also new, and fragile, and could easily be ruined by one or both of them. Harry’s insides squirmed guiltily as he realized he might have nearly ruined it already with his impulsiveness. But Draco seemed willing to forget, and put the incident behind them, for the sake of keeping the friendship intact. Harry should be grateful, really.
“All right. Friends, then,” Harry said. For right now, his thoughts added of their own accord. At least some part of him was holding onto hope for the future.
“Friends,” Draco said. He looked genuinely relieved, and that sealed it for Harry. This was the right thing.
“Just so you know,” Harry added, wanting to diminish some of the mortification he knew Draco was feeling, after all he’d shared. “This friendship is one of the best things I have right now, too. I don’t think I could have survived everything with Ginny, and Ron, and everything without it. So…” Harry trailed off awkwardly, but Draco seemed gratified, and that made it worth it.
Draco suddenly laughed, breaking the tension. “Gods, look at us. Talking about our feelings, to each other. What is this world coming to?”
Harry chuckled. “Well, it’s done now, so you can go back to ribbing me about every little thing and I can go back to rolling my eyes and calling you a git.”
Draco grinned at Harry, and Harry thought he could feel his heart breaking, just a little. Nobody should be allowed to smile like that. It should be illegal.
“I’ll see you in the Potions lab tonight then, to test the potion?” Draco said, as he made his way to the door.
“Yeah,” Harry replied. “I’ll see you then.” Draco left, but Harry remained, leaning himself against a desk, brooding.
***
After the talk, things did change a little in their friendship, and yet, somehow, they also didn’t at the same time. They could still maintain that easy banter between them without much effort, and yet Harry thought, though it was possible that he as imagining it, that Draco was a bit gentler with him than before. Kinder, warmer. Harry thought perhaps there was an unspoken gratitude in Draco’s behavior, gratitude for the fact that Harry had listened to the Slytherin’s confessions and returned them, rather than used them against him as Harry very easily could have. Draco seemed to be settling into an increased trust of the Boy Who Lived, and he looked quite comfortable there.
Harry, unfortunately, wasn’t finding himself able to settle at all. He had made himself stop wanking over thoughts of Draco, hoping that it would curb his desire for the blond. But that didn’t stop him from having dreams, some of them quite erotic, and it didn’t stop the occasional fantasy or memory from popping into his head without his consent.
The memories were the most difficult to overcome. While he only had two, really, to choose from, they were quite powerful in their own right. Harry could still remember with tactile accuracy the smoothness of Draco’s flesh under his fingers, and it made the skin of Harry’s hands tingle and burn, thinking about it. He remembered Draco’s taste, his smell, the timbre of his moans, the pitch of his voice when he said Harry’s name, the shape of his teeth on Harry’s neck, the way he shuddered when he came. It was all right there, nearly as real as the moment it had first been experienced.
And there was the first memory, the one that had started it all: watching Draco in the shower. In all the drama and confusion of the past few weeks, Harry had nearly forgotten about it. But it returned to him now, with full force, because to Harry it stood as evidence that Draco really did want him. He clearly had been fantasizing about Harry long before they had struck up this new friendship.
That’s what you want to believe, Harry told himself. He had no real proof that that was the case, and he probably never would.
And it doesn’t matter, Harry continued firmly. Because Draco has already told you what he wants.
So Harry tried very hard not to think about it, and sought out distraction where he could. He put everything he had into Quidditch practice, including helping Ron adjust to his new role as captain, and trying to slowly mend fences with Ginny, though that would be an ongoing process.
He welcomed a letter from Andromeda in the middle of the week, suggesting that, since Harry was finding himself so busy, she and Teddy should come to Hogwarts on the weekend for a visit instead. She suggested Halloween, which was to be a Hogsmeade day, but Harry happily accepted. 8^th years could visit the village whenever they liked anyway, and Hogsmeade was no better than Hogwarts or anywhere else when it came to his receiving unwanted attention. Harry felt no need to go out with his fellow students, and knew he would much rather spend the day with his godson.
The prospect of seeing Teddy and Andromeda cheered Harry considerably, and he found it easier to be his usual self that night as he and Draco found themselves in the lab again, treating the dried Agama skin in preparation for their second brewing attempt in Potions the next day. Their first experiment had been an unmitigated failure; the transfigured rat they had tested it on had had a violent seizure within minutes of them administering the potion, and then died quite suddenly. It had been disappointing, but Draco had seemed undeterred. He was much more optimistic about the Agama skin.
It was tricky stuff, the skin. It was thin, and, since it was dehydrated, quite brittle. They had to handle it with their wands only, levitating it from its packaging into a dish for rehydration. The slightest bit of oil from their hands would sabotage the process, and any indelicate treatment would cause it to disintegrate. It was no wonder that it wasn’t a commonly used ingredient. Harry had never even heard of it until Draco mentioned it. Apparently it was the skin of a particular lizard, the only species in its genus to harbor any magical properties, and it was only found in one singular ecosystem in South America. Tracking down enough to experiment with had been a chore unto itself, and they had to be careful with what they had managed to acquire.
Still, it was quite creative thinking on Draco’s part, and Harry found himself impressed.
“How did you think of this stuff?” Harry asked him, as Draco carefully administered drops of water onto the piece in the dish, causing the skin to slowly brighten into a vibrant green as it absorbed the moisture. “I’d never even heard of it before.”
He was expecting some quip from Draco about his own brilliance, followed perhaps by a taunt about Harry’s feeble and pedestrian mind, so he was surprised when Draco’s cheeks turned pink, and he said nothing.
“What?” Harry asked, now undeniably curious. “Why do you look so embarrassed?”
Draco scowled. “I’m trying to concentrate, Harry,” he said.
“Why won’t you tell me?” Harry asked, unable to help a smile. Draco’s rare bouts of discomfort were somewhat of a guilty pleasure for the Gryffindor, even after all this time. “It can’t be that bad.”
Draco bit his lip and said nothing, and Harry assumed he would not get an answer, and sighed to himself. Draco finally finished his task, putting the dropper down and watching the skin revitalize before them.
“The color,” he said suddenly.
“Sorry?” said Harry.
“It was the color that made me think of it.” Draco’s voice had that soft quality to it that was only present when he wasn’t sure he really wanted to say what he was about to say. “I was… looking at you, at your eyes, and I was thinking about how green they were. And then the skin just sort of popped into my head. It’s almost the exact color of your eyes.”
He hadn’t looked at Harry at all as he said this, but Harry didn’t need it. Draco’s telltale blush was enough. He felt a sizzle of energy shoot through him, zinging about from nerve to nerve.
“That’s… quite romantic, actually,” Harry said, his voice teasing.
“Shut it, Harry,” Draco said flatly.
“No, really,” Harry went on, enjoying himself too much. “It’s quite sweet. Adorable even. I’m flattered.”
Draco sighed, clearly exasperated. “I never should have answered you. I’m a fool.”
“Don’t say that, Draco,” Harry said. “I like you this way. When you bite your lip and blush like that, I could snog you senseless.”
He knew immediately that he had gone too far, because when Draco finally lifted his eyes to meet Harry’s, any amusement that may have once been there was utterly gone. “Don’t,” he said, sounding both angry and desperate.
“I’m sorry,” Harry said automatically. And then he thought about it a moment and said. “Actually, no. I’m not sorry.”
“Harry…” Draco began, his voice a warning. “We agreed.”
“Yeah, well…” Harry had no good answer for that. “I know we did. But I’ve just… been wondering… haven’t you… don’t you ever wonder…?”
“No,” Draco said, his voice going cold. “I don’t.”
That stung, more than Harry cared to admit, and he scoffed. “I don’t believe you,” he said.
“Choose to believe what you want,” Draco replied, with forced indifference.
“Don’t tell me…” Harry clenched his jaw, exasperated. “I see the way you look at me sometimes. I may not be the smartest bloke in Hogwarts, but I’m not as thick as you think. You’ve been flirting with me for the past month just as I’ve been flirting with you. Don’t deny it.”
Draco clasped his hands and sat back with a sigh. “I thought we had an understanding.”
“We do,” Harry said, realizing he was on the edge of doing the very thing they both feared: ruining things for good. “I just… pretending doesn’t work for me, either. I’m no good at it.”
“That’s all too true,” Draco said. “I’ve never met anyone as transparent as you. It’s a wonder you survived this war at all.” It wasn’t a particularly nice thing to say, but Draco’s voice was so tired, and so devoid of any malice, that Harry wasn’t sure if he should be insulted or not.
Harry was about to answer, although what he wanted to say, he wasn’t quite sure, but Draco beat him to it.
“Look,” he said. “Haven’t you ever created a fantasy that you knew was impossible?”
Harry blinked. “Um, I’m not sure.”
“That’s what most fantasies are. The best fantasies, anyway. You build them around something or someone unattainable, so that when the fantasy never comes true, you’re not disappointed. Anything too attainable, then you almost start to expect it. Or, even worse, you do get it, and it doesn’t nearly live up to what you had built up in your head.”
“What are you saying?”
“You’re the fantasy, Harry. You’re everybody’s fantasy. The Savior of the wizarding world, the hero, brilliant and misunderstood, righteous, and handsome, and humble. You’re the fantasy that is so unattainable that people will fall all over themselves just to get a few words with you, not because they actually believe they have a chance, but because they just want fuel to feed their wildest imaginings. They don’t really know you. Hell, it’s unclear if they really even like you. But that is irrelevant to them, because it’s the fantasy you that matters, not the real you. Don’t pretend you don’t know this already,” Draco said, seeming to accurately read Harry’s livid expression. “It’s the reason that even though you’re quite kind and generous with people in general, you only really let yourself get close to a few of them. It takes you a long time to trust. And with good reason. Which is why it’s so incredible to me that I even get to sit here and have this conversation with you. Because you’ve only ever been a fantasy. And now you’re real. And I… well…”
“What?” Harry said, so shaken that he wasn’t sure if he what he felt was anger or delight. “You’re worried I won’t live up to the fantasy? Because I can ease that worry no problem. I most definitely won’t live up to the fantasy. There’s no question about that. But that doesn’t mean we can’t… reality is even better than fantasy, you know.”
Draco shook his head. “You really think it would work between us, Harry? I’m terrified every day that this thing we have is going to implode in on itself. Throw sex into the equation and things get a lot messier, especially considering we were on opposite sides of a war, and you’ve just broken up with the woman everyone expected you to marry, and you’ve just now decided you’re even interested in blokes. And me, well, I’m just trying to keep my head down, aren’t I? I’m just trying to survive the next couple of years, trying not to get cursed through my post or spat on when I walk down the street, just waiting for the day that this will all have blown over and I can become a real member of society again.” Draco ran a hand through his hair, and then pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself. Harry hadn’t seen him this worked up in a long time, and an acute, painful sympathy was rearing its head inside him. “It’s all a right mess,” Draco went on. “I’m just trying to sort it all out, and what I need is a friend, not a boyfriend. I thought you understood, but I guess not.”
“No,” Harry said, feeling guilty all over again. “I do understand. I’m sorry, Draco. I truly am.”
Draco huffed. “You don’t need to be sorry, not really. It’s incredible that you would even consider pursuing something with me. I never, ever thought it would be possible. But… you’re you, and I’m me, and maybe it’s all a really nice idea, but this is the real world, and most things don’t work out the way you hope. So let’s just be grateful for what we have, please.”
“Yeah,” Harry said, knowing he had no choice but to agree. Everything Draco said made sense, even if it didn’t feel quite right to Harry, even though there was still a part of him that clung to the possibility of someday. “Yeah, all right.”
“Thank you,” Draco replied quietly. And with that they returned to their work, remaining mostly silent, though Harry’s thoughts were far from it.
He doesn’t want you like that, he thought, over and over. You just have to accept it and move on. Just bloody accept it.
Easier said than done, of course.
A.R. Fleets: Thanks! Well predicted… was it any surprise that Draco would be the over-thinker in this scenario?
djaddict: Well, that would certainly be convenient lol. But it would be also be a lie, since Harry swings both ways. Besides, if he announced it then all the interested boys would come out of the woodwork, too, and he’d have the same problem :)
Dedicated_Reader: Thanks! As you can see, I have not completely extinguished that slow burn yet…
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Say My Name