To Dance

Chapter 17: To Confess


When he was a child, Harry had often watched the Dursleys through the days. Of course, most of them time, he tried to occupy his mind with other, more happy things, but others he would find himself observing them, feeling completely nonplussed. The way Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon acted was not how he imagined a married couple would act. They behaved as if they were serving a sort of duty to each other, not actually ever having been in love. It seemed that, for their relationship, that they didn't need or want it. The only thing they seemed to love, besides Uncle Vernon's love of his drills and chocolate pastries and Petunia's obsession with sterilization, was Dudley. However, even in their non-loving relationship, Harry had been able to see that the two of them kept a commitment to each other, never wavering or breaking, keeping few secrets and respecting what they could of each other.

Even Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia knew the basics of what you do and don't.

"Harry!"

Cedric obviously hadn't grown up with the basics. That or he didn't care about them. Harry kept walking.

"Harry wait!"

He said nothing. He felt a hand come to land on his shoulder but didn't stop, letting it slide off as he moved forward.

"Harry I can explain." Cedric's voice had a slight pleading twinge to it. Harry didn't want to listen particularly. His mind was still shifting between being somewhat shut down and buzzing like an angry hornets nest.

"Look." Cedric sounded a bit angrier. "Would you at least stop and hear me out!"

Harry kept walking. One step. Two. Another pair of feet in front of him. Cedric had moved in front of him. Harry sighed.

"Can I at least try to explain this?"

Harry looked up at the Hufflepuff. "What's there to explain?" he asked, his voice sounding empty, completely the opposite from his mind. "You used me to make Davies jealous." Harry felt the anger he previously felt begin to stir in his stomach again. "You decided to use the second Hogwarts Champion to make Davies regret breaking up with you." His voice was rising in volume along with the twisting in his gut. "You felt the need to get back at someone and so you used someone," he felt his emotions begin to come rushing back, like a wild colorful dam had broken. "Someone completely oblivious and innocent to achieve your own sick desire to make your boyfriend feel bad." Harry glared at Cedric, who looked guiltily back at him. "Is that about right?"

"Harry, I-" Cedric began but Harry cut him off.

"Can explain?" he spat, his hands clenching at his sides. "Really? Is there really an explanation for lying to me? Using me for a name?" He scoffed. "That's all I am to anyone, isn't it. The Boy Who Lived, famous Harry Potter. Wanted a slice, did you?"

"Harry, he cheated on me first-"

"Like that's any excuse!" Harry yelled, ignoring the older boy. "You used me! I wish his curse had hit you instead of Malfoy, then I'd have been out of this sooner!"

Cedric's face darkened at the mention of the fight. "You're not completely scott free!" he snapped. "Hanging out with Malfoy all the time! If I hadn't known any better, I'd have thought you two were dating and not us."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Harry snapped, narrowing his eyes at the older boy. "Whatever weird relationship I have with Malfoy, friendship or hexing each other to bits, has nothing to do with you lying to me. Have you ever been lied to like this Cedric? Has anyone used you for revenge before? Did you even think about what you were doing?"

He was panting slightly, anger flaring through him, exhilarating and painful. Cedric said nothing, though he looked about to. Harry found he really didn't give a damn. "You didn't, did you?" Harry snarled. "You just made up a rotten plan without thinking it over and jumped right in. I thought you were better than this." Cedric's face suddenly dropped his guilty slightly angry expression to one of shock. "I actually admired you for a while, liked you even these past weeks, but apparently it's just a smooth mask over a sack of bubotuber puss." Cedric winced.

"Look," Cedric said, heaving a breath. "I know what I did was wrong-"

"Then why the Hell did you do it?" Harry yelled at him, hand itching to grab his wand and hex the Hufflepuff.

"Because I was angry and hurt and not thinking straight!" Cedric conceded, face twisted with opposing emotions.

Harry's face twisted into a sneer to rival Malfoy's. "You're right. You weren't thinking." He turned from Cedric, anger still pouring through his flesh as he walked away from the seventh year ass hole.

"Harry-"

"Just shut up, and leave me alone," Harry snarled over his shoulder, quickening his pace with forceful steps, glaring hard ahead of him. He was determined not to look back, to give Cedric the satisfaction of seeing how much he had hurt him. He felt a hand grip his shoulder tightly and attempt to turn him around.

"Would you-" Cedric began but Harry had really had enough. Face furious, he spun around, ripping his wand from his robes and shouting "Incarcerous!" Instantly, ropes burst from his wand and wound tightly around Cedric's surprised form, binding him instantly.

Breathing heavily, Harry straightened and watched as Cedric's suddenly panic-stricken face looked at him, the older boy falling to the hard stone floor. "You have no idea how much I'd love to hex you," Harry growled, his wand still trained on Cedric. Cedric, helpless against the bonds, looked up at Harry, his gray eyes flashing between fear and anger. "Have a good night, Diggory," Harry said, turning from the other boy and walking down the corridor, Cedric's furious and muffled yells echoing behind him as the older boy struggled on the floor.

As Harry silently climbed into his four poster, ignoring Ron's questioning look, he saw Hedwig by his pillow, an envelope similar to the one he received a few days ago lying on the bed spread. Half tempted to crush it between his hands to vent some anger, Harry ripped open the envelope and tore the small piece of parchment from the folds. There, written in the same script as the previous one, was what appeared the continuation of the first letter.


....I hope they stay away from your face,


Harry stared at the words, scowling, and he flipped over the paper, in hopes that the damn thing might finally be finished. To his pleasure, the end of the sentence was there.


.......Because I think you're cute.


Harry stared at the words, his mind tumbling over and over. Was this some sort of trick? He quickly tore through his things to retrieve the first letter, completing the whole sentence.


If you ever get mauled by bears, I hope they stay away from your face, because I think you're cute.


Who the hell would write something like that? It had to be some sort of joke. And he really didn't need jokes right now. He was still extremely angry, frustrated, and hurt. He had never expected something like that to hit him, especially as hard as it did. Getting anonymous letters with stupid messages suggesting someone else liked him did not make him happy. It made him even more frustrated and angry and hurt, completely opposite of what a normal person would feel upon getting a letter like that. Angrily ripping out of his robes and uniform, he forcefully jerked on a pair of pajama pants, not bothering with a shirt for once, and threw himself into bed.

A quiet "g'night Harry," drifted over from where Ron was half seated on his bed, observing his friend fume.

"Night," Harry said tersely, yanking his curtains closed a moment later and plunging his head onto his pillow, scowling at the crimson hangings.


Harry was still feeling angry as he walked to Potions the next day. It was the last day off classes before the Christmas holidays and most of the student population was buzzing with excitement, attention spans shot, and spirits high. Well, most of the spirits high. Ron had jolted up that morning with a yelp, causing Seamus to fall out of bed and Neville to star awake with such a look of shock Harry found himself almost laughing. Almost. Ron had apparently remembered he didn't have a date yet for the ball, which sent Harry straight back into being furious at Cedric. The whole thing came out to Ron and Hermione in hushed tones during breakfast. Hermione and Ron were extremely worried, Ron asking questions while Hermione spoke in gentle tones. Both of them were grating on Harry's nerves and, in clipped tones, he dismissed himself from the table.

Completely bypassing the fact that he was willingly walking to Potions, and early at that, Harry made his way down to the dungeons, frowning to himself and glaring at the cold walls. Though he really didn't want to think much about the Yule Ball at the moment, he couldn't help but remember Ron from that morning. It was getting late, and he, as of last night, did not have a date to the ball. Absently, he wondered if Cedric had gotten loose from the bonds the night before. As he was imagining Cedric, still bound and furious and hateful in the middle of a corridor waiting for someone to come rescue him, Harry mindlessly walked into the Potions classroom and set his bag down, habitually, on the desk he had most recently been occupying.

Which was currently occupied.

It took Harry a moment before he realized that someone else was already sitting on the bench, with their bag on the table, watching him with poorly hidden interest and apprehension. Choosing to say nothing and therefore divert awkward and spiked questions, Harry sat silently on the bench next to the other occupant, opening his Potions book and staring at the page.

"You know it's usually polite to greet someone when you come into contact with them," drawled the blond from beside him.

Harry continued to glower at the page, not looking at Malfoy. "Well then, since I haven't touched you yet I don't see why it's an issue." He really didn't feel like getting into a conversation at the moment, especially with Malfoy. Said Slytherin was currently remaining quiet, though Harry could still feel his eyes on him. He could ignore Malfoy. It was Malfoy, after all.

"Fine, don't deign to speak with me."

It baffled Harry how easily Malfoy seem to push his buttons and make him lose his resolve. Trying to keep himself in check, Harry swiftly turned to Malfoy, glaring harshly. "Would it be so difficult for you to, just for once, not be a complete and utter-" he began to grind out before trailing off.

Never in all of Harry's years of knowing Malfoy had the Slytherin ever looked as horrible as he did now. This was including after his forced transformation into a ferret. Harry found himself staring, open mouthed, at the Slytherin, who was in turn looking uncomfortable and disgruntled. Malfoy was paler than pale, with dark circles under his eyes. His usually impeccable hair was mussed and he was, unbelievably, slouching slightly.

"You look like shit."

Malfoy snorted. "Ever one for tact, Harry."

Harry stared at him. Malfoy stared back. "You called me Harry."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Yes, I do believe you're called that. Unless you'd rather I call you Harriet or something equally grotesque."

"No," said Harry, frowning and shaking his head slightly. "I mean, you can't still be under that curse can you?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes again. "Well, what other reason would I have for calling you Harry?"

"You might be a masochist," Harry said, shrugging slightly. Malfoy grinned faintly, the action giving his face a less dead appearance. "Or it could just be habit by now."

"I would only call you Harry if I had good reason to," Malfoy said, turning to fidget with the books and quill on their desk.

"Like if I was dying?" Harry inflected, raising his eyebrow.

Malfoy smirked, the familiar action calming Harry down slightly. "If you were dying, I doubt I'd bother to call you by your given name."

The snide comments, usually able to incite Harrys fury so easily before, were beginning to calm his nerves amazingly. He grinned back at Malfoy. "True, Voldemort usually calls me Potter whenever I see him." Malfoy flinched slightly at the name and scowled, making his already pale worn features more pronounced and ghastly. Harry's grin widened at his expression. "You know, it's not like saying his name will summon him or anything." Malfoy glared. "He's not a house elf. He doesn't just appear when you call out his name."

Amazingly, Malfoy burst out laughing. Harry watched him in mild disbelief mixed with amusement as the blond attempted to get himself under control. "Only you would ever relate the Dark Lord to a House elf." Harry grinned in confirmation as the signs of laughter slowly melted from Malfoy's face.

"So tell me," Harry said, poking at his Potions book. "Why is it that you look like you've just been dragged through the forbidden forest during Halloween?"

Malfoy frowned and looked away. "I couldn't sleep last night," he said simply, his voice slightly tense as if he didn't want to further the topic.

Harry was never one for leaving things alone. "Was Goyle snoring?"

Malfoys eyes flickered over to Harry, who was watching him expectantly. "Goyle always snores."

"Well, shouldn't you be used to it by now then?"

Malfoy seemed to be getting frustrated. "Goyle's sleeping habits had nothing to do with me inability to sleep!" he snapped. Remembering the last few times when Malfoy had been tired, Harry was somewhat grateful for the fact that Malfoy wasn't delirious, or falling asleep on him.

"So what did keep you up?"

Malfoy said nothing, simply turned to stare absently at the blackboard. Harry wasn't exactly satisfied with this response. He glared for a while at the blond who determinedly ignored him. "Would you stop being a prat?"

"Why do you care?" Malfoy shot back.

"What's there to indicate I care?"

Malfoy gave him a pointed look. "You are currently inquiring as to the reason behind why one of your arch enemies has inadequate sleep the previous night. Thus, all facts lead to the indication that you care to some degree."

Harry stared at him for a moment, the words rolling about in his mind. Malfoy had a point. Why was he bothering to ask. He should just be wallowing in self pity and depression from the previous night, but he wasn't. He was asking about Malfoy's sleeping habits. In a concerned and amicable fashion. "Arch enemies," he said slowly, staring at Malfoy, who began looking slightly uncomfortable.

"What?"

Harry swallowed, the past weeks flashing through his mind. "I don't quite know if we would be classified as arch enemies." Malfoy said nothing, just stared at him, waiting. Harry watched him carefully for a moment. "I don't think arch enemies visit each other in the hospital wing, or disguise themselves as study partners, or have snowball fights, or," he paused, the impact of what he was saying beginning to weigh in his mind. "Or tell the truth about a bad relationship." Malfoy said nothing and sat motionless in his chair, staring at Harry as if expecting him to go into a violent emotional state. Harry watched him, studying his face. "I don't think that classifies arch enemies."

Malfoy swallowed, apparently willing himself to speak. "I'm sorry," he said, faintly, still motionless and tense, as if preparing to bolt for the door.

Harry was slightly taken aback. "Why?"

"About you and Diggory." Harry felt something clench in his stomach at the reference, but said nothing. It must have shown on his face though because Malfoy flushed slightly and looked away swiftly. "I didn't mean to burst in on you it was just-"

"Why did you tell me?" Harry asked, interrupting the blond and focusing his attention.

Malfoy seemed to fidget for a moment, apparently trying to avoid the question. "The curse-"

"You'd had the curse for a while before that," Harry interrupted again, staring hard at Malfoy. "You obviously knew for a while. Why didn't you tell me before then? Why did you tell me?"

Malfoy seemed to be waging an internal battle. His worn features were like a thin sheet over a shadow puppet play, his thoughts fighting and tumbling against each other. "I don't like Diggory," he said, making Harry scowl.

"I already knew that," Harry snapped, now getting slightly impatient.

Malfoy, however, seemed to snap. "What do you want me to say?" he shot back, his tired face clouding over with anger. "Do you want me to say I did it to make you miserable? To break up you and lover boy? Do you want me to tell you I did it because I've joined your fanclub? Because I couldn't bear to see you being used by that Hufflepuff? Because I care too much about you to see you get hurt even more later on? Or do you want me to say I was jealous because he was stealing all your attentions? Would you be satisfied if I told you my life revolved around you, that I need you around me all the time, that I can't have Diggory breaking you and stealing you away? What do you want?!"

Harry's head was ringing from Malfoys voice, all of his words rebounding and contorting into a chaos of emotion. He stared at the blond, who was currently glowering at him, breathing heavily through his nose as he recovered from his spirited outburst. Harry was silent, trying to keep his mind as all of what Malfoy has said began to sift and settle and suddenly, something clicked in his mind.

"Hermione's too smart for her own good," Harry said, staring in disbelief at Malfoy, whose look of apprehension shifted chaotically into confusion.

"What?"

"Now I get what she was talking about in all her references," Harry said, though mostly to himself as he watched Malfoy's face crease further into confusion before suddenly shifting to a form of realization and then resolution. "I feel stupid."

"I thought that's how you usually felt," Malfoy said, keeping his expression from wavering.

Harry, in spite of himself, grinned. "Yeah, but now I'm not using the term loosely."

Malfoy swallowed. "So now what?"

Harry thought for a split second before standing, grabbing his potions book and shoving it into his bag. Seeing Malfoy's face, which has suddenly shifted from absolute resolution as he watched Harry pack his things away, Harry grabbed Malfoy's bag as he hoisted his own over his shoulder. "Come on," he said, staring down at Malfoy, who looked back in disbelief. "We're skipping Potions."

Scowling slightly, Malfoy rose from his seat. "Where are we going exactly?"

Harry looked at him seriously. "To talk."

Malfoy paused a moment before he moved and followed Harry from the Potions room. Luckily, they didn't see Snape while walking, saving them from detention for skipping. Honestly, Harry could have cared less at this point. Nearing the entrance hall, however, they did run into Ron, who, catching sight of Harry, came running up to him, out of breath and grinning stupidly. He didn't seem to have noticed Malfoy.

"Harry!" the red head panted excitedly. "I've done it!"

Not wanting to cause a scene between Ron and Malfoy, should the blond be noticed, Harry feigned interested. "Did what, Ron?"

"Got us dates to the Yule Ball!" Ron said, beaming. Behind him, Harry heard a slight intake of breath. "I just asked Parvati if she and her sister would go with us and she said yes! We're not social rejects!"

"I'd still classify you as a social reject, Weasley," a drawling voice said from behind Harry, causing Ron's attention to shift.

Eyes widening, ears going red, and freckles popping, Ron's happy mood vanished almost instantly. "Malfoy!"


Having gotten rid of Ron, Harry was finally able to drag Malfoy into the now familiar empty classroom. It hadn't been easy. Ron seemed to find it his constant duty to despise Slytherins and Malfoy seemed to derive a sort of sick sadistic pleasure from goading Harry's best friend. Having sent Ron to Potions to tell Snape he was accompanying Malfoy to the Hospital wing for stomach pains, Harry carefully closed the door, his mind and body still buzzing with the mass of information accumulated in the past hour.

Turning, he faced Malfoy who was currently leaning against one of the desks, arms crossed, watching him with apprehension and a whisper of his old sneer. "Lucky you got a date so quickly, isn't it," he said, his sneer becoming more pronounced.

Harry didn't reply to this, instead saying calmly, "How long?"

Malfoy didn't say anything at first, holding his sneer for a moment before sighing and dropping his facade of nasty boy. "What does it matter?"

"How long," Harry repeated, watching Malfoy steadily.

Malfoy stared at him, silently, for a moment before dropping his arms and beginning to slowly walk towards him. "You didn't have a normal childhood, did you Potter." Harry said nothing as Malfoy continued, taking slow steps towards him. "If you did, you would have noticed something between kids, specifically young boys and girls. Unlike fantasies where everyone is nice to each other, young boys typically pick on and tease those they are interested in. They eventually grow out of this and act more like is expected, being nice and such, but that preliminary stage is pretty common." He stopped talking and walking about three feet in front of Harry.

Harry watched him, his eyes flashing between Malfoy's silver pools as they bore into him. "That long?"

"There are many reasons why I dislike you Potter," Malfoy said. "And that is one of them."

Harry laughed. "You know, I would never have put together the reason behind your constant taunting and life threats that you were infatuated."

Malfoy smirked, turning to the nearest desk and sinking down onto it. "Most of the time that was legitimate though," he said, watching Harry. "The wanting to kill you, I mean." Harry smirked. "It all just sort of changed though, progressively."

Harry watched him for a moment, taking in his form for what felt like the first time. "When did the curse actually wear off?"

Malfoy smirked again, his eyes drifting to one of the windows. "Sunday evening," he said. "You were already in the dorms though so there was no point in telling you."

"And then it, what, became an excuse?" Harry probed, wondering silently why he was having this conversation. Another part of him knew exactly why. Malfoy nodded. "And then Cedric."

Malfoy's eyes flashed back to Harry. "I'm sorry," he said. "It's just, I was sick of seeing it and knowing the truth at the same time."

"Then why didn't you tell me in the first place?" Harry asked, firmly watching Malfoy.

"I thought it would be my chance to finally get over it," the blond said, his eyes slightly unfocused. "If you were taken, then I had to do something else." He smiled somewhat bitterly. "It didn't exactly work though." He sighed and leaned back in his chair, watching Harry closely. "So now you know, now what?"

Harry thought for a moment. "I don't know," he said honestly, looking out the window into the cold December air. "I'm angry with Cedric, upset still about the whole thing, dealing with personal realizations, suddenly have a date to the Ball, and just found out my once sworn enemy likes me." He smiled vaguely letting his gaze drift from the frosted window to the blond. "I'm pretty much waiting for this blow to hit I guess."

Malfoy watched him, his silver eyes calculating as they roved over his face. "Alright," he said, standing and picking up his bag.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked as Malfoy made for the door.

"I'm going to my dormitory," the blond said, looking at Harry with a slightly dead look. "I'm tired and obviously not in class. Goodbye."

Harry said nothing, watching in slight disbelief as Malfoy left the room, silently. After a moment, Harry gathered up his things, left the room, and walked up to the Gryffindor dormitories. Dropping his bag on the floor of the fourth year dormitories, he let himself fall back onto his four poster, his mind and body abnormally numb from the day. He didn't know how long he lay there, but it had to have been hours, because when Ron finally did come in, he looked worried and ragged.

"Harry, where have you been?" Ron asked, dropping his bag and coming to stand over Harry's bed, staring down at his best friend.

"Isn't that a bit of a rhetorical question?" Harry asked, looking up at his red headed friend.

"Hermione and I were worried," Ron continued as if Harry hadn't said anything. Good old Ron. "You and Malfoy weren't in Potions and then when you both didn't show up to Care of Magical Creatures, we thought something might have happened. We checked the Hospital Wing but you weren't there, said you hadn't gone there at all." Ron frowned. "Care to let me know what's going on, mate? I feel like I barely see you and when I do, you're more upset than Percy over a shirt stain."

Harry was silent, Ron looking more and more apprehensive and anxious as he looked at his friend. Finally, Harry sat up, looking up at Ron.

"Malfoy likes me."

As soon as the words left his lips, the truth, reality, and shock of the whole matter came crashing down around him. Ron's visible reaction mimicked Harry's internal response. He turned bright red, ears blazing, jaw slack and mouth hanging open as he sputtered incoherently before finally latching onto that one necessary and all encompassing word.

"WHAT!"

And Harry's world turned upside down.

Cedric was a cheating, self interested playboy.

Malfoy was romantically interested in him and had been for years.

Harry was not as straight as he originally thought.

And he was taking Parvati Patil to the Yule Ball.

Ron began to flail about the room in a fit of physical expression, yelling disjointed words as he attempted to understand what was going on. Harry stared in shock at his bedside table, the corner of the most recent letter visible from the drawer. He suddenly recognized the handwriting. Eyes wide, he snatched the letter and read it again.


If you ever get mauled by bears, I hope they stay away from your face, because I think you're cute.


"Holy shit!" he yelled, launching himself from his bed, past a confused and startled Ron in mid-rant about a certain blond Slytherin, and down the stairs of Gryffindor tower.