Chapter Text
Harry stormed the castle halls, his footsteps echoing in the empty halls as he walked. The Marauders Map was in his shaking hand, and he watched the map intently while he made his way up to the seventh floor. He didn't want anyone to see him, and he avoided the populated hallways, choosing the ones that instead were void of people. He was absolutely enraged, He couldn't believe this! Ron and Hermione were fighting, and, while the two of them weren't talking to each other, they were talking to him, and they both told him that he was obsessed, and that he needed to 'stop his obsession before it destroys him.' Merlin, what did they know! It was like they knew nothing about him anymore, and he was on his last nerve with both of them.
Every time he rounded the corner, he was assaulted with the sight of Ron with his hands up Lavender Brown's robes, snogging her senseless and it made him want to scour his eyes. Hermione felt the same, though she was much more vocal about it. Hexing Lavender whenever she saw her around a corner, sending piercing glares at Ron whenever he sat anywhere near her, and never bloody shutting up about them to Harry. He wanted to just rip his hair out every time she started up, sneering at Ron across the room while she muttered to Harry. At first, he would listen to her rambling, but, eventually, he started to block her out, to focus on other things while she would mutter obscenities to him under her breath. He tried focusing on what was being taught, but it lead to him falling asleep in class, and more infuriating scolding from Hermione.
He began focusing on conversations, listening in on other people's hushed conversations. He had learned a lot over the last few months of snooping, he had learned that Padma Patil was particularly interested in women, Zacharias Smith's aunt had been recently fired from the ministry for writing a rather interesting article on the pros of keeping thestrals for the purposes of shagging (which had unfortunately never been put to print, Harry would have quite liked to have read it), and that Professor Sprout was involved in numerous black market trades involving mandrake roots.
Along with all these interesting facts he had gathered over the months, he had also found himself listening to a certain group of slytherins that gathered in the back of the potions class. He had been listening to more than his fair share of their muttered conversations, which only powered his interest in what Malfoy was up to even more. He found himself checking the map to map out Malfoy's location more and more often. He had heard other things as well, listening in on their normal conversations about the weather, the newest stories in the Prophet, and even into their own lives.
He had learned that the four slytherins had all been friends since they were young, listening to them fondly recall childhood memories together. He guessed it was due to pureblood connections, as their stories sounded as though they'd known each other since they were all in nappies. He'd heard about Malfoy's father, about the manor and vacations they'd had to who knows where. He had listened about what Malfoy had gone through, the way his parents had treated him, not being allowed to speak or dress out of turn, and he began to sympathize with him.
Harry had got to the seventh floor, storming down the left wing and walking past the hidden wall of the room, thinking, 'I need somewhere to get away.' the door opened up, the walls shrinking away as a dark oak door grew up from nothing, a golden doorhandle popping from the oak wood. Harry walked to the door, throwing it open and looking around in the room it had dropped him in. He found the room of things, large piles of items rising up to the high rafters of the room.
Harry sighed, carding his fingers through his crazy, messed black hair and shaking his head. He walked through the aisles, searching through for any interesting items. He found some ancient broomsticks, dust cascading down from the bristles the moment he touched it. He found old robes, small trinkets and potions bottled and stashed away. After digging for a bit, he found a battered old loveseat. He drug it out into the aisle, setting it securely on the ground and flopping onto it, coughing as a cloud of dust ploomed up from the cushions. He sighed, crossing his legs and closing his eyes, thinking about today.
He had been sitting in potions, listening to the 'silver trio' (He had come up with that nickname on his own and was extremely proud of it) going on about the pureblood scandals while Slughorn rambled on in the distance.
"Can you believe that the Greengrasses are considering fleeing to Austria? It's not it'd do them any good, of course, but can you believe?" Harry rolled his eyes. Who cared about some pristine bloodline leaving the country?
It was then that the three's voice lowered, and Harry leaned in instinctively to listen in. He heard Goyle's low voice murmur to Malfoy,
"How did it go, then? Spit it out!"
Malfoy elbowed him, hissing,
"Shut up! Somebody might hear!"
Harry dared to glance back, and saw Malfoy gesture to his left arm. Harry's heart sunk down to his trainers, but he listened anyway, hoping that it could possibly be anything else.
"It hurt," he heard Malfoy whisper, almost scared sounding, "I think he made sure to make it hurt extra just to punish me. He knew," He told Crabbe, shaking his head and tenderly touching his arm.
"Knew what?" Crabbe questioned him, eyebrow wide and voice stupidly loud to the point where Harry could hear him loud and clear. Malfoy smacked him over the head, and Harry snickered to himself, coughing and clearing his throat awkwardly to hide his laughter. Ron gave him a look, but when Harry just shrugged, he rolled his eyes in response and went back to chopping Beetle wings. Harry waited a moment, before leaning back to continue listening.
"Knew I didn't want it. He made sure that I knew I had no choice," Malfoy breathed out, barely audible to Harry. He gasped, but the sound was covered by Malfoy's much louder exclaimation of, "Bloody git, he is."
Harry sat up, hunching forward and turning to Ron.
"Ron, Ron." He had whispered, poking his friend in the arm to make sure he had his attention.
"Hmm?" He replied, not paying much attention as his eyes were drawn to the other side of the room, where Lavender was making kissing faces and silent promises to snog him senseless later. Disgusting.
"I just heard," He started, but Ron cut him off with,
"Mate, as much as I know you think i'm interested, I really couldn't find it in myself to give a shit about Malfoy at the moment."
Harry groaned, rolling his eyes and jabbing Ron sharply in the ribs.
"Oi! What do you want!" the ginger turned, clutching his injured rib. Harry leaned forward and whispered,
"I just heard that Malfoy got the mark, but he didn't want it, Voldemort forced it on him." When he leaned away, he had expected to see silent amazement on Ron's face, but instead he saw vague annoyance, and his emotion was confirmed with Ron's snarky reply of,
"That's nice and all, mate, but I couldn't care less about your obsession about Malfoy, and what the git gets into in his spare time." Ron gave the potion another swirl, glancing back at the Prince's book, and asked, "This looks turquoise to you, doesn't it?"
Harry had stood, walking over wordlessly instead to sit with Hermione, who he had thought would be much more interested in what he had just discovered as Ron. Who cares about Ron anyways, the bloody ass was too busy making googly eyes at Brown to care about anything else. When he sat down next to Hermione, however, she swivelled in her seat, giving him her best annoyed glare.
"If this is about Malfoy, I won't listen to it. Harry! I know you're suspicious and you don't trust him, but this has grown into an obsession! There's nothing wrong, he's always been an ass, now he's just a pureblooded ass." She said to him, crossing her knees and glowering at him. She leaned to him, murmuring quietly into his ear, "However, if you're here because you're sick of Him" She gestured at the Weasley boy across the room, who was still staring at Lavender as though she were an angel, "I'm completely open to talk."
Harry groaned, remembering how his friends were treating each other. He couldn't stay in the class anymore, and he handed in his and Ron's potion and stormed out, tossing his rucksack over his shoulder and leaving, even before class was dismissed. That lead to where he was now, rolling around in the Room of Requirement on a dusty old sofa. He couldn't believe how his friends would just dismiss him like that, acting like he had some stupid obsession. 'It isn't an obsession,' he told himself over and over. As much as he hated to admit it, while he was suspicious at first, it had slowly grown to him actually caring about the Slytherin git, and the last bit that he had heard today took the cake. He actually cared about Malfoy, and, if he let himself be serious, probably more than just cared for him. He had been listening to them talk for the entire year, and he learned more about Dra-Malfoy, he chastised himself, than he ever thought he would.
He can't belive he actually almost referred to the snobby git by his given name. He was becoming soft towards him! He was still an ass to Harry, sneering at him in the hallways and tripping him in class. How he could care about the man when he viewed Harry as below him? It made his head hurt thinking about it, and instead he chose to not think about it, pushing himself up and walking around, looking around at the ancient treasures. His footsteps echoed through the room, and he turned down a particularly narrow aisle, stepping over various artifacts before stopping dead at the towering item before him.
The Mirror of Erised was glowing in front of Harry, and he gasped softly, reading the words etched into the gold frame. He hadn't seem this mirror since first year, he had assumed Dumbledore had it destroyed along with the Philosopher's stone, but it appears he had only moved it here. He approached the Mirror apprehensively, still wary from the warnings Dumbledore had given him so many years before. He reached out, brushing the layers of dust and grime from its surface, but jumped back, gasping as a familiar face appeared on the surface. He saw himself, yeah, but the reflection showed none other than Draco Malfoy standing behind him, staring at him in the mirror's reflection. He whipped around, but there was nobody behind him.
He turned back to the Mirror when the reflection-Malfoy cleared his throat, and he watched as Draco walked up to him, and his own reflection turned, watching as Malfoy walked up to him. Harry watched, entranced, as the mirror showed Draco walking, stopping in front of him. He held is breath as the reflected Malfoy grabbed the front of his robes, pulling him close and exhaling a shuddering breath.
"I want you, Potter," The reflection-Malfoy murmured, leaning forward slowly, his hand unclenching from Harry's robe and instead reaching around to thread through his hair, pulling him closer, he sighed softly as his lips met Harry's and-
A loud slam echoed through the room of things, jolting Harry up and bringing him away from the mirror's reflection. The two reflections were snogging messily, and Harry turned away, shaking his heavily blushing head and running his fingers through bedraggled hair. He slowly creeped through the aisle, suddenly aware of somebody else's footsteps in the room. How stupid was he? Ron or Hermione probably came to look for him, he forgot to specify to not let anybody in, and the footsteps were getting closer, and he was about to step out into the open when he heard a voice, in fact the same voice that he had just heard whispering to him in the mirror.
He jumped in behind a pile of Broomsticks and discarded robes, covering himself from Malfoy as the Slytherin walked past him, robes swirling around the piles of junk. What was he doing here? Had he followed Harry? Hopefully he wasn't just here to mock him. Harry decided he had better follow the man just in case, and once Draco was out of sight, he stood up, pulling his invisibility cloak on over himself and tiptoeing around the piles of discarded waste.
Draco walked briskly along, and Harry snuck a few paces behind him, walking carelessly through the aisles of junk before Draco approached a small, black cabinet, sitting down with a huff in front of it. Harry stopped dead when he noticed Malfoy's shoulders shaking, his head in his hands. He wanted to go up to the boy, but knew he would risk cursing by making his presence known. So instead, he got as close as he figured was safe, and leaned in to listen to the upset boy's mumbling.
"Salazar, I hate this, I HATE this! Stupid fucking Crabbe, because of him everyone knows!" Malfoy pulled his sleeve and Harry had to hold a gasp at the black mark burned magically into the boy's pale flesh. "FUCK!" Malfoy exclaimed, standing and shoving the cabinet behind him, sending it toppling into a mountain of items, and causing a chain reaction. The entire mountain began to collapse, and Harry jumped out of the way, piles of useless trash falling where he had just been standing. Once he had collected himself, he turned to Malfoy, who was breathing heavily, teartracks drying on his pale, lightly freckled face. The grey eyes that had so often been full of malice towards Harry now reflected misery, and it made his heart clench to see the boy so unhappy.
Once the piles of rubbish had fallen and the dust cleared, Malfoy gently picked up the cabinet that he had shoved, neatly setting it down and sighing, falling back to the ground. His hand rubbed at the mark on his arm, and he shook his head, letting out a shuddering breath.
"Stupid Potter! As though I was enough of a bloody idiot to notice him listening, I couldn't just escape the conversation! Now he knows, he probably hates me, now that he knows I have the stupid mark. Stupid, stupid, Stupid!" Malfoy dug his nails into the mark, but then hissed in pain, withdrawing his hand and letting out a sob. "It's all this stupid cabinet's fault!" He yelled out again, shaking his head and wiping his face. It was then that he noticed a path had been cleared by the falling of the debris, and Malfoy stood on shaky legs, slowly following the path that had been made. Harry began to follow, taking light steps around the rubbish. Malfoy weaved between the aisles, and Harry realized that he had found the same narrow aisle that led to the Mirror of Erised. He wondered what Malfoy would see, were he to look in the mirror. Would he see himself, with Voldemort dead at his feet? Or would he see himself married to some pureblooded girl, perhaps with the absence of a mark?
Harry was genuinely curious, and followed almost excitedly in the footsteps of the Slytherin, still blissfully unnoticed. He saw the loveseat that he had previously been seated on, and grinned at it, giving it a small pat. Malfoy didn't seem to notice the mess he had made earlier, striding to his goal, the end of the aisle, almost eagar for a distraction. And Harry had to admit, he understood. For all that the two boys had different, they also shared a lot of the same circumstances. Being forced into something that they didn't necessarily want due to their respective births, having their lives tampered with by the dark lord, having everyone hold them up to ridiculous standards. It made it much easier to empathize with Draco, and he hoped that maybe seeing the mirror would give the boy some hope for the future, instead of just dreading whatever he was deaing with in the time being. He was sure that Voldemort had given him some task, as he seemed a lot more on edge this year than any other.
Harry watched as Malfoy saw the mirror, his eyes widening as he stepped towards it. He saw him looking up, and heard him mutter,
"Mirror of Erised... The Mirror of... Desire?" He walked forward, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He saw him gasp, and almost smiled to himself as Malfoy looked extremely surprised. He had to hold himself back from asking what he saw. His question was still answered with the immediate withdrawl of his wand, and the way he whipped around, yelling,
"POTTER!"
Harry froze, his heart pounding out of his chest as Malfoy's eyes scanned over the area. For a moment, he asked himself how Malfoy was able to see him, but then he realized. He startled as he realized that Malfoy must have seen him in the mirror, as Harry couldn't even see himself with the invisibility cloak covering him. Draco swirled back, staring at the mirror with wide eyes as whatever he was seeing played out in front of him. Harry was dreadfully curious, wondering what Malfoy was imagining himself doing to him. Harry watched Malfoy piece it together, muttering 'Desire,' and, with a more questioning tone, he whispered to himself, 'Harry?'
It startled Harry to hear the Slytherin use his given name, with no anger or malice behind it was an added bonus. Malfoy stepped to the mirror, his fingers brushing gently against the surface of the mirror for a moment, withdrawing his hand a moment later and taking a step back. His face was bright red, the blush noticable on his pale face as he slowly stepped back, twirling around and stalking away. He ran back, brushing past Harry and rounding around the corner. Harry curiously followed him around the bend, noticing he sat down at the same place he himself had previously sat. His head was in his hands again, and he shuddered, shaking as he let out a soft sob. Harry realized he had seen Draco cry more just today than he ever had anybody else, and his heart pounded softly over the boy. Malfoy started mumbling,
"How did it know? Is it that obvious?"
Harry wanted to know what he was talking about, but he was already on edge, and there was a very large chance that he would be hexxed within an inch of his life if he said a word.
"Even a fucking mirror could tell i'm a Poufter! A mirror, for Merlin's sake!" Harry audibly gasped at that, before clamping his hand over his mouth. Fortunately, Draco didn't notice, too caught up in his mumbling.
"Bloody Potter, Harry, whatever! God, does he know? He shouldn't. If he did, oh god, what would he think? Weasel would be at my neck, if there was any interest he wouldn't want someone with a fucking mark! Merlin, if he heard me he won't even look at me, even Pansy can tell! 'Still bent for Potty, hmm?' I wish everybody would just leave! Me! Alone!" He yelled the last few words, punctuating each word with a kick at the pile of junk in front of him. He stood, brushing his robes from his way, striding out of the aisle.
"I need to get out of here, I can't do this right now, Fuck." He said to himself, rubbing his face. Harry hurried to follow him, but his leg hooked around a broomstick, and he yelped, collapsing onto his face. He glanced up, and saw Draco standing stiffly, his eyes wide and mouth slightly open as he stared down at Harry. He glanced back, and saw that his foot was revealed from the fall. Fuck. Within a moment Malfoy had whipped his wand out, and he had it shakily pointed at Harry. He yelled out,
"w-whos there? Show yourself!!"
Harry sat up, putting his hands up from under his cloak so they were visible. He saw Draco's eyes narrow, and he pointed at the cloak, preforming a wordless spell. The cloak levitated off of him, and Malfoy gasped, stumbling back and catching himself just before falling on his own arse. Before Malfoy could regain his mind, Harry took his wand out, placing it on the ground in front of him.
"W-What are you doing here, Potter? How did you get in here? How did you even know I was in here? Did you follow me?" His eyes widened, and he choked out, "How long have you been here?" Harry shook his head, exclaiming,
"I was here first! You were the one who followed me. I came here after potions, you came in when I was already here!"
"So you just decided to follow me around while I was minding my own bloody business, like a lost little puppy? I didn't take you as the stalker type, Potter," Malfoy said, retaining as much dignity as he could muster and turning on his heel to stalk out. Harry took a moment to register what had happened, but by then Malfoy was halfway to the door, so Harry wasted no time jumping up, running after him clumsily.
"Draco, wait!" At the use of his given name he stopped, turning around with fire in his eyes.
"What, you want me to stay so you can mock me for what you heard? Or take pity on the poor crybaby Slytherin? Save me the heroism H-Potter," He snarked, and was about to turn back when Harry caught up, grabbing his arm and holding him in place.
"No, why would I?" He paused for a moment, but couldn't hold it back, blurting out, "What did you see in the Mirror?" Malfoy paused for a moment, anger flashing behind his eyes for a moment before plain old resignation came up on his face.
"You already heard everything I've said, why are you even asking? To humiliate me? Just want a confirmation to laugh at that I'm in-" He took a shuddering breath, whispering a soft "Nevermind."
"Ma-Draco, I'm not trying to mock you, alright? I just- I figured it was some vision of you torturing me to death, or something similar. I wanted to know exactly what you were doing to me."
Draco outright laughed. He laughed so hard there were tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, and Harry found that he rather liked the look of laughter on the boy. After he stopped laughing so hard, and gathered himself, his face went back to somber, and Harry found that he missed the carefree laughter that was on his face moments before.
"I wish it was me killing you, God do I wish it was that... Merlin that sounds absolutely terrible, I-uh" He shook his head, running his fingers through the short fringe that was overhanging his face. "But you heard me, you were right there, for Gods' sake. I just," He slumped in defeat, pointing his wand at a small stool and transfiguring it into a plush armchair and sitting down in it, resting his head in his hands and sighing. "I am a flaming hot queer and I happen to be ridiculously bent for you. There. I said it, if you dare quote me on that I won't hesitate to hang you upside down by your toenails."
Harry stood for a moment, a shocked expression on his face. He blinked, shook his head, and a slight grin overtook his face. The more he thought about it, the wider he grinned. Draco Malfoy liked him. He liked Malfoy back. He could barely contain the outburst of excited laughter that came from his mouth, and just let it out, his grin wide as he laughed.
"Brilliant!" He exclaimed, sitting down in front of Draco with a grin. He raised an eyebrow at the grinning man, before scowling and glancing away. Harry wasn't deterred, he looked at Draco, a smirk on his face, before asking, "The next Hogsmeade weekend is coming up, want to join me?" Draco stared at him for a minute, deep in thought, before glaring at him, muttering,
"My sexuality isn't a fucking joke for you to laugh at, Potter."
"Well, it's a good thing I wasn't joking then."
Draco looked at him, his grey eyes meeting the vibrant green of Harry's, before nodding solemly.
"Why then? To out me to all of my friends? Get the Dark Lord to destroy me for being a flaming homosexual?"
Harry snorted, shaking his head. His smile has shrunk a bit, but he still had a tender look on his face when he replied,
"If you don't want all your friends to see, we can go somewhere else then! I'm not giving up, Malfoy, I'm taking you out on a date eventually."
At the word date, Draco's head whipped up, and he stared at Harry, mouth gaping like a goldfish out of its tank.
"a Date? Y-you're a"
"A 'Flaming homosexual,' as some people would put it? Yep." Harry grinned unabashedly at the other man, reclining on the ground and smiling. "Is that a yes, then? Because as lovely as this is, I do believe that i'm very, very late for Charms and that Flitwick can only be so forgiving of lateness."
Draco stuttered, slurring his words for a moment before just nodding his head. Harry beamed, standing up and grabbing his bag from the ground, dusting himself off and heading for the door. Right before he left, he turned back, yelling out to Draco,
"Owl me, will you? tell me what's good for you!"
And with that he turned, exiting the Room of Things and left Draco sitting there, dumbfounded. He stood on shaky legs, walking slowly to the door and opening the room door. He made his way slowly to the Dungeons, opening the Slytherin common room. Blaise was reclining on one of the couches, and when Draco entered, he sat up, an eyebrow raised.
"Draco?" He called out, waving at him. Draco beelined over to him, rubbing his temples in annoyance. "You look frustrated. Did Potter corner you?" Draco chuckled, shaking his head. He glanced around, before straightening up.
"I," He declared, "Am going to have a nice, long nap. If you don't wake me up for supper, you'll find your bed filled with some rather unsatisfactory things." He turned, and walked briskly to the dormitories. He heard Blaise in the distance yelling,
"Sweet dreams, ferret!"
Draco grinned to himself, pulling a piece of parchment from his chest and tapping a quill to his lip. What would he say to Potter?
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Harry grinned, strolling into the Charms classroom. Flitwick wandered over to him, mumbling something about, 'not being late so often, mister Potter!' and wandered off, leaving him to walk over and sit beside Hermione. He had had quite enough of Ron making bedroom eyes at Lavender, and he would even be able to stomach Hermione's incessant ranting at this point, with the fantastic mood he was in. He sat down next to her, and she gaped back up at him, astonished.
"Harry James Potter! I've been worried sick, where have you been!" She whispered angrily.
"Hermione, calm down, you're starting to sound like Molly. And you would not Believe what happened with Malfoy-"
"Harry. How many times do I have to say, I do not care about your obsession with Malfoy! I told you this just last class, this is getting unhealthy."
He sighed, rolling his eyes and replying, "Alright," before turning his attention back to Flitwick, a great grin on his face. Fortunately for him, there was only another 20 minutes left of class, and he was able to focus on the class for the rest of the time remaining. Flitwick dismissed them early, his smile wide as he ran up to Ron.
"Oi, mate, where were you? I thought you weren't going to show up," the redhead said as he reached him. Harry grinned, shrugging his shoulders. Ron nodded, assuming he was somewhere with Malfoy. It showed how well his friends knew him, and he smiled at the idea. Though, he didn’t know exactly what he was doing with Malfoy. Ron probably assumed that he was fighting, but of course nobody bothered asking.
Flitwick dismissed them early, sending them out of the class with a flick of his hand. The two boys walked from the classroom of their last class of the day, Harry thrumming with excitement. He hoped Malfoy wouldn’t chicken out on hi. His grin was wide as Ron told the fat lady the password, which happened to be ‘Kumquat’ that day. He ran past Hermione, through the common room and up to the boys dormitories, where an owl tapping impatiently on the glass caught his immediate attention. He ran over, opening the window and letting the rather brooding looking owl in to retrieve its letter. He unravelled the parchment, immediately greeted with the neat, intricate print scrawled onto the paper.
Potter,
I appreciate your invitation to Hogsmeade, but due to the both of our reputations, i feel it may not be best for the two of us to be seen together. However, if, on the day of the town visit, you can offer something else to do, i’d be inclined to hear your offer. Meet me on the Saturday of the visit in the Room of Hidden Things at 11:30 Am sharp.
-DM
Harry grinned, ripping a spare roll of parchment out and pulling out his favourite quill, tapping it against his chin as he thought of what to write. After scribbling a confirmation in his own messy scrawl, and sending it off with the owl, he grinned to himself, heading back down to the common room. He couldn’t wait until Saturday.