Misery and Grief

Things only got more confusing for Harry and Draco for the next couple days, and nights. Sometimes they would kiss in the same manner they had before, sometimes they would ignore each other. Neither one could bring themselves to ask or tell about the feelings roaring through them. Harry didn't want to scare Draco by proposing something that would make him possibly think about the rape, and Draco didn't want to think about the rape so he didn't offer any more than what had already been given. He had to admit, though, that kissing was nice - something solid and beautiful about it that though it in itself should remind him of the things that had happened to him, didn't. This was because they had not ruined his first kiss for him.

Harry had already kissed before, obviously, but it was never like this. Despite his feminine appearance, Draco was a man and kissed very different from a girl. There was dominance, even if it seemed like an almost needy dominance. There was also a sort of passion in the neediness, proven by the repetitive kisses instead of even one 'french' kiss. Harry never initiated, assuming that Draco considered this some sort of therapy and he would not ruin it by forcing himself on the boy. The blonde was very thankful for that. The brunette also noted that never once did their kissing lead to crying, which made it much better than Cho in itself, not that it needed help.

It was during one of these few kissing sections, as Harry was pressed up against the wall, that there was a knock on the door. Draco glared at it and tried to keep Harry to himself, but the darker boy wrestled out of his arms and in reaction he ran up the stairs and down the hall, though not straying far enough not to hear what was being said, afraid it might be Ginny again. Harry opened the door to meet Ron again. He smiled for a moment at his friend before his friend's expression got to him.

"What did you do to my sister?" He again barged in and sat down on a chair.

Harry closed the door. "Nothing, well, I refused her invitation to go to a Quidditch game."

"Is that why she's going on about how you must be a poof?"

"Oh, that. You know Draco, he said some things he knew would get under her skin, and they did."

"And you let him?" Blue eyes seemed much more like rock then ocean now.

Harry tried to shrug it off. "What could I do? He's not a dog, I can't train him to be nice to people. And in all fairness, she was being nasty about him before he even entered the room."

"He's Malfoy!" Ron using the word made Harry realized that he, too, called Draco 'Malfoy' on a regular basis. He wondered about this, considering what had been going on it didn't seem right. His eyes momentarily flashed in the direction he knew the blonde to be. "We used to always say nasty things about him, because he's a git, remember?"

"So we did..."

"So is it true?"

Now Harry was confused. "Wait, is what true?"

"Are you a poof?"

Harry blinked. "You know, I've never really thought about it." And it was true, he hadn't. He really hadn't cared enough to consider his preference, just what was going on individually. Besides, he was pretty sure 'yes' was the wrong answer in Ron's eyes and 'no' was a lie.

Ron was getting impatient, and flustered, both by his frustration and the topic of conversation. "Well, have you ever, you know, thought of a guy in that way before?"

Yes. He didn't say it, but the answer was so simple that his mind had told him he was in trouble. He opened his mouth, but was interrupted by banging on the door. Getting up quickly, thinking perhaps it was an emergency, he answered the door. "Oh, I'm so sorry Harry." It was Hermione. "He's here isn't he?" Harry let her in and she immediately went to Ron. "Ronald, it's none of your business." This shocked Harry a bit.

"It is my business, he's my best friend!"

"Oh, so you came here because you were worried about him and not because of Ginny?"

"Well, I..."

What he said after that didn't matter, because Hermione sat down and Harry followed her. "How have you two been, Harry?"

"Uh, good I guess." What was going on here?

"That's swell. I was wondering if you had been reading the Daily Prophet?" He shook his head. "Ah, well then you didn't know that the Malfoys say their son has run away and are offering a large sum to anyone who gives information that leads to the return of Draco." She frowned. "Dumbledore everyone not to tell anyone where you are under any circumstances. He seems to have information we don't. But, Ginny's really angry and just wants Draco out of her life..."

"She didn't!" Harry realized he was standing, shaking in anger and fear.

"No, no, of course not... Well, she threatened to, but Fred and George talked her out of it and Mrs. Weasley reminded her that if Lucius knew where Draco was that it would mean the Death Eaters knew where you were." Her look was pitiable as she waited for Harry to sit back down. "But she's really taken this whole thing really badly. She's silent now, and I can't help but think she's plotting."

"My sister does NOT PLOT." The two jumped as Ron growled at them. "She's upset because she thinks Harry's snogging Draco while they're here all alone."

"And if they are?" Both the males looked at her, their heads snapping. "How is it any of your or her business?" The redhead looked astounded, the black haired boy's face only seemed to twitch undecided. "Obviously Harry doesn't want Ginny, or else he would have jumped right on the invitation to go alone with her to the Quidditch game."

"Wait, alone? I thought that Fred and George were going!" Harry said quickly, but over his voice he thought he heard a thump upstairs.

"See, Ron?" Hermione aimed at her redhead friend. "Ginny wasn't even honest with her intentions and he turned her down."

"Maybe it's because she wasn't blunt about it that he didn't get the hint." He looked at Harry expectantly and Harry caught a glimpse of blonde looking around the corner of the upstairs hall.

He couldn't help but smile. "Ron. She's a nice enough girl and really fun and great a Quidditch." He could feel daggers for eyes boring into him, and he smiled wider. "But really I'm not interested in her. Maybe it's because she's your sister-"

"Maybe it's because you're a poof."

"Harry never said he was a, I mean, that he was homosexual, nor did he say he was heterosexual. I didn't think you'd care."

"My mum was a redhead..."

"I've shared a room with him for years, I should know if he was eying me or the other boys."

Harry laughed. "Are you asking if I rubbed one off while thinking about you, Dean, Neville, or Seamus?" He laughed hard at that now. "No, no I've never thought of you guys that way."

"But you've thought about guys that way!"

"He didn't say that, and if it doesn't include you, doesn't it not matter anyways?"

"Why won't you let him answer?"

She didn't seem to have an answer for that, really, but her brown eyes flickered dangerously. "I just hope that someday you won't delve into people's business, especially in such a rude manner." She huffed slightly. "Anyways, I feel that unless one wants to sleep with a person, one has no right to inquire about their sexuality." A smile was soft and yet scary. "Are you coming out to us, Ronald?"

"Of course not. And don't ask if you don't want to sleep with the person, remember?" He looked horrified at being confronted, or insulted, Harry couldn't tell.

All that happened was Hermione smiling in mock pleasantry. For a moment, things were silent and overbearing, but it almost felt like it used to after Hermione and Ron would bicker and Harry would stay out of it as much as he could. "Well then, shall we be going, Ron? I'm sure you're hungry, how about I buy you something at a muggle restaurant?" And with that, they got up and left, Ron once again leaving in a bit of a rage and Hermione calm as could be. "Oh, and Harry." She said before she went, digging through your bag. "This is for you."

It was a book, big surprise there, but he thanked her all the same. Opening it, he found a letter that said the following

Dear Harry,
Professor Snape told Professor Dumbledore. I know what has happened. So does Mrs. and Mr. Weasley as well as Professor Lupin. I'd like to say that I think you're doing the right thing. You don't seem to be upset about Draco Malfoy being your home at all, and that either shows a great amount of patience or a lot of changes in both of your perspectives. I'm proud of you, and Draco as well.
I would like to convey, however, my deepest worries and regrets about Ginny. I don't think that she'll sit by idly and let you be, as she puts it, stolen away from her. Everyone is on your side, even Ginny, but fewer believe in Draco. This is only made worse by Ginny's jealousy. Please be careful and keep Draco safe as well.
Sincerely,
Hermione

Harry would be lying if he wasn't upset, angry at Ginny's attempts. The dark-haired boy felt a swell of protective instinct in his chest. However, he opened the book to find that it was just a new edition of Quidditch Through the Ages. Obviously the note had been the real reason, with a book cover so that Ron or anyone else would not notice. He turned around to find Draco standing not far away.

The blonde looked utterly exhausted, and Harry knew that to mean that Draco had probably been fretting a lot upstairs in response to every word, especially Ron's.

"Sorry for the interruption." He said, deftly putting the letter in the book. He'd bring it up later to the blonde but now was not the time. He sighed lightly. Draco was there but he seemed a bit spaced out. He stepped forward and waved his hand over Draco's face. "Hello?" He smiled, Draco wasn't responding. He was sure that Draco wasn't thinking anything nice, so he resorted to test something out.

He stood on his toes, suddenly aware of just how much shorter he was than Draco. He balanced himself with Draco's shoulders and leaned in to whisper into his new friend's ear. "Draco..."

Something seemed to switch on, the warm air reaching the blonde's ear was something he couldn't ignore. It sunk in what the brunette had said exactly, and immediately attacked the poor boy. Light pink lips met lower, tanner ones eagerly with desperation that Harry hadn't felt int he kisses before. It was strong kisses. They landed on the couch, Harry below a very possessive Draco. The kiss was heavy at first, but otherwise normal. A smirk graced the blonde's lips even as he pressed them against the other pair. "Say it again." It was a demand, one that Harry was happy to oblige.

"Draco." The voice was soft, deep voice in comparison to the Slytherin's. Barely a whisper as he tried to regain his breath. He was rewarded by lips pressing against him again, this time a tongue flicking against his lips. He opened them and Draco took his mouth. The feeling was thrilling, the taste was subtle and sweet, and they both could feel their hearts thud painfully in their chests. Harry was the first to move, wrapping his arms around Draco's graceful neck, deepening the kiss, running fingers across the very tips of Draco's hair. The pale boy responded by straddling the boy and running one hand across Harry's cheek, the other holding himself up.

They snogged like that, breaking away and rebeginning momentarily every once in awhile. However, eventually the kisses muted and they broke apart, instead content in simply staring at one another. How many personal rules had they broken? How many social boundaries? Just how complicated had they made their lives?

"What if Weasley had barged back in?"

"I guess he'd think I was a poof." Draco seemed to sit up, pulling away. Harry reviewed what he said and, pulling Draco by a resistant arm back down to him, he reoriented, remembering what Hermione had said about revealing sexuality. "I honestly don't know if poof is the right word, I haven't really thought about it, but I'd say I wasn't straight. Well, I wouldn't say it to Ron right now, it seemed to be the wrong answer at the time." Draco smiled.

"So you're gay?"

"I don't want anything more than what I have now." A thick thud pounded in Draco's chest. Those words were what he needed to hear on so many levels. It meant that Harry wasn't after sex, it meant that he indeed was doing this because he wanted to and not because Draco had started it, and that Harry was in fact interested in him enough not to want to push him away. He also that Harry didn't ask back.

Why was he always so grateful for all the things Harry didn't do? He wasn't even sure if they avoided intentionally or not. Either way, it made him feel accepted as he was. This way, he was able to maintain his 'answer to no one' attitude. His patience, his calm, all the things that Draco didn't possess, made it hard not to fall in love with Harry... Draco grimaced momentarily.

Love?