Points were taken from all the houses for the night's doings and though Harry and Draco were never discovered by the Snape, it was suggested they do detention anyway for disrupting the school with threats of a duel.

Harry felt worse than he had before. What happened? One moment Draco was making all of Harry's dreams come true with a passionate kiss and the next moment he was running away as if it disgusted him. All day he saw Draco in classes, and Draco studiously avoided even looking at him. Harry wanted to ask. He felt adrift. He couldn't believe that his one moment of utter joy could be smashed so irreparably.

Harry sat in the great hall pushing food around on his plate. He didn't really have much of an appetite.

"What's wrong, Harry?" asked Hermione. "Is it about your detention?"

He flicked his eyes up to Ron, too consumed with eating to notice the quiet words he and Hermione were exchanging. "I'll tell you later," he whispered.

When they found a moment later to be alone in the corridor, he told Hermione what had happened under the invisibility cloak. When he finished, Hermione's brows lowered, thinking. "That's very interesting, Harry."

"Interesting? It was devastating! Here I was thinking one thing and suddenly it was something else completely. I really feel like I've been tangling with a blast-ended skrewt."

"Yes, but you said Malfoy kissed you."

"Yeah," he said, almost barking a laugh. "He certainly did."

"And then left in disgust?"

"Yeah," he said shoulders sagging.

"And he's always picking fights with you. He's been picking fights with you since day one, hasn't he Harry?"

Harry pushed his hair back from his face and it flopped back as if untouched. "Yeah. Just me. No one else, it seems."

"Of course not." She was smiling.

"What? What are you getting at?"

"Don't you see? He's always taunting you and only you. 'Methinks he doth protest too much.'"

"What does that mean?"

"It's a quote from the Muggle Shakespeare. Draco has protested that he hates you, from the day he met you. Hate is a very strong emotion. Can you think of an emotion equally strong as hate?"

"I don't know. Love?"

"Precisely. And sometimes the two can get confused."

"How can that be?"

"Oh it happens more often than you know. You see, I think Draco does love you and has for some time. But he doesn't understand these emotions. He may not even realize he has these feelings for boys. But because he can't deal with them, it manifests in another strong emotion he is well familiar with: Hate."

"He loves me so much he hates me?"

"In a sense. He can't come to grips with his love and so hate is easier. But last night emotions ran high and the intimate setting of your close proximity just…let it out. But once he realized what he was doing his confusion set in again and he pulled away, receding into the more familiar and safer feelings of hate. I think Draco is in love with you."

Harry looked at her, stunned. How could that possibly be? She wasn't there. She didn't see the look of utter disgust and contempt on his face.

He leaned against the wall. But still. Draco had been the one to kiss Harry first, not the other way around. He looked at Hermione's smile of triumph and wondered if this information would ever do him any good. "But Hermione. If he doesn't want to admit how he feels, I'm still out of luck."

"You'll just have to convince him."

"How?"

Her smile turned to a frown. "Harry James Potter. I can't do everything for you. You'll have to figure this one out on your own."

* * *

Harry dreaded detention that evening. He trudged slowly to Snape's office, looking over his shoulder for any sign of Malfoy. He wondered if he would have the chance to talk with him alone, and then his stomach did a somersault just thinking about that. He didn't know if he really wanted to be alone with him. What if Malfoy rejected him again? He couldn't stand to see that expression of disgust.

He reached for the door knob and opened the door. When he walked in, Draco was already there. Malfoy made a half turn to look at the door, but stopped himself. Harry walked in and stood beside Malfoy. He couldn't look at him.

"At last, Potter," said Snape, as if he were late. He rose from his chair. "You two. Come with me."

Snape took them to the far corner of the potions dungeon to a small door. He took a key from a pocket and turned it in the lock. Pushing the door opened revealed a dusty storage room that looked like it hadn't been touched in centuries. "This needs cleaning and organizing. I suggest you get started right away since you will not be allowed to use your magic. Obviously, you are far too eager to use it for ill ends."

He swept away from them in a flourish of black robes. Malfoy and Harry just stood there at first, saying nothing. Then Malfoy spoke. "If you say one word about the Astronomy Tower-I don't care what Snape says-I'm hexing you."

Malfoy stepped into the store room and Harry stood frozen, his hopes dying. With a deep sigh, he entered the room and looked around. Every square inch was covered in dust. "How do you suppose we're supposed to organize this?" asked Harry quietly.

"How should I know, Potter? Let's just get started. The sooner we start the sooner we can get out of here."

They began by looking at the names on the boxes to classify them. They were all ingredients for potions so they quickly figured that the dried ingredients could be kept longer and so decided to put them toward the back of the room and the more perishable they stored near the front. They argued at first whether to stack them by alphabetical order or by their classification.

"We could just ask Snape how he wants them," said Harry.

"You go ask him, then."

Harry slammed down his rag. "All right, then. I will!"

Harry opened the door and looked around. He stepped cautiously into the dungeon, but Snape wasn't there. He returned to the store room. "He's not out there. Just do what you want, Malfoy."

He stood and watched Draco moving boxes before Draco looked up at him. "Are you just going to stand there?"

Harry's shoulders slumped and he sat on a box. "Draco. I really think we should talk."

Malfoy pulled his wand. "Potter, I warned you-!"

"Put it away, Malfoy. You're just as confused as I am. Wouldn't it be helpful to just talk?"

"No! I don't want to talk about it! I don't want to think about it!"

"Well I do! I know just how hard it is to finally realize that all the confusion had a name. I know what it is to struggle with your sexuality. I know what it is to finally say 'I'm gay.' And I know all about the tears and loneliness. The hardest part is just admitting it."

"You think I'm gay? That's a hoot, Potter. I'm so far from gay it's a riot."

"Malfoy-"

"Just what are you getting at? Do you think I'm in love with you or something? Get a grip."

"Malfoy, it's not easy believing the truth about one's self. Do you think I liked knowing this? I was depressed for weeks. But finally, at least knowing the truth at last was a relief. Of a sort. And actually," he said quietly, "I do think you're in love with me. As much as I…love you."

Malfoy froze. His fearful breathing was loud in the small room. "You take that back," he said in a whispering, deadly voice.

Harry stood. "I'm not taking it back. I'm in love with you, Draco Malfoy. I've been in love with you for a long time."

With a strangled cry, Draco threw his wand aside and fell on Harry with his fists. Harry took one to the jaw and fell backwards. Draco tumbled with him, punching Harry in the gut. Harry fought him back, grabbing his face and pushing, but Draco was a Fury now. They rolled and skidded against the boxes, teetering them until they came crashing down. Harry managed to get his feet under him, and tried to stand up, but Draco was pummeling him with both fists now. All Harry could think of was Dudley and how helpless he had been under his huge cousin's onslaught. Harry defended himself-it was what he knew best-and felt Draco's anger deflate. He stopped punching Harry and Harry grabbed his shoulders, hoping it would keep him from starting again. Harry gasped. His lungs seemed compressed and he waited for them to fill with air again.

Draco panted, looking at the floor. He stood that way, Harry holding him at arm's length a long time. Until Draco lifted his face. He raised his hands and Harry flinched thinking he was going to hit him again, but Draco's hands slipped under Harry's sore jaw and brought his face to Draco's. Without preamble, Malfoy opened his mouth and kissed Harry. Harry's body followed and soon he was pressed against Malfoy again and Malfoy was kissing him thoroughly, putting the force of his emotions behind it.

Harry tasted a little blood from the blows they had each received, but Malfoy's tender assault took away all the pain of his fists. Malfoy's kiss was desperate, passionate. His tongue slid over Harry's, warm and wet. His lips, plastered so furiously over Harry's, rubbed and caressed in a sensual dance of utter seduction. He groaned in Harry's mouth which turned to a whimper. Draco drew back and Harry saw the tears streaking down Malfoy's face. He enclosed Malfoy in his arms and let him cry against him, making small circles on his back with his hand.

Harry heard a step and looked up. Snape stood in the doorway, his expression one of shock. Harry narrowed his eyes, daring him to say anything. Snape looked at the state of the room, of Harry, and of Draco who had his back to Snape and was unaware of his being there. Slowly and deliberately, Snape backed away without a word and quietly closed the door.

* * *

Harry and Draco finished their detention, but after their embrace, Draco didn't say anything more to Harry. He left the dungeon, his cheeks blazing red.

More confused than ever, Harry returned to his own dorm room at almost one a.m. He lay in his bed and stared at the ceiling. He finally understood how much worse it was for Malfoy than himself. With a father like that? What would Lucius Malfoy say to a gay son? When Pureblood wizardry was so important, how would this be taken? Harry didn't know. He really didn't even understand the possible ramifications of his sexuality on the Wizarding world. Hermione seemed to take it well enough in stride, and Merlin knew what Snape thought. But somehow he didn't think Lucius Malfoy would be as accommodating. It wasn't fair, then, to subject Draco to the misery. Although, misery would be inevitable.

He resolved to leave Draco alone from now on. If you loved a thing, you let it go. He'd heard that somewhere once. Let it go? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. He rolled over and tried to sleep. He managed a little, but the sun came streaming in far too early for his liking.

He'd forgotten that there was Quidditch today.

He dreaded facing Slytherin. Why did it have to be them? In the changing tent, he slowly suited up, buckling the arm guards on his right arm clumsily. He had to get his mind on the game. He knew he had to get past this. He owed it to his teammates, but it all seemed suddenly so frivolous.

He grabbed his Firebolt and walked with the others onto the pitch, the roar of the crowds in the stands only so much white noise. He mounted and pushed off and he was in the air again. He breathed his relief. He forgot how forgiving the skies were. The broom-more of an extension of his power, much like his wand-moved seemingly at his thoughts, and he made the first pass of the stands and came to a stop on the far side of the pitch. He looked over toward the other side, and there was Draco clutching his broomstick, bobbing in the wind. He didn't look at Harry.

The snitch was released and Harry watched it zoom away far out of the pitch. Madam Hooch blew her whistle, tossed up the quaffle, and the game began.

Players zoomed past him. The quaffle tossed from teammate to teammate, unless it was intercepted by the other side. The crowds roared their approval as broomsticks soared and chased. Bludgers flew and players dodged. The beaters on both sides did their best to dislodge the riders, but everyone seemed up to the challenge.

The score was sixty even, but still Harry did not see the snitch. He looked in earnest now, meandering along the far corners of the pitch. He didn't know if he had the energy to try to fool Malfoy, but he kept an eye on the Slytherin just in case he had any tricks.

Just then the sun gleamed off of something not too far from Malfoy and Harry moved his broom lazily in that direction. Malfoy watched him, and so Harry didn't want to make him suspicious. He closed on the spot. Malfoy still hadn't moved. Harry held his breath, gripped the broom, and suddenly dived. Malfoy was right after him.

Harry had the snitch in his sites and zoomed toward it, but Malfoy was on his tail and then he came up along side of him. He glared at Harry. "I'll show you, Potter."

He cut Harry off, flying just over the front of Harry's broomstick, nearly clipping his nose. On instinct, Harry pulled back, and it was enough for Malfoy to get a good lead.

Brilliant move, Malfoy. Harry recovered and urged the broom faster. He came up just under Malfoy's right. Draco's cloak flapped behind him. Harry reached up and yanked it, causing Malfoy to swerve. Harry released him and took the lead. He looked back once to spy the expression on Malfoy's face.

The snitch was within reach now, and Harry stuck out his hand to retrieve it. Malfoy came up beside him again and his hand was there almost touching Harry's like the last time. Their team couldn't afford another tie. It had to be a win this time. Harry had to win. He leaned even further forward, cautious not to cause an imbalance to the broom. Suddenly, his fingers closed on it and he clasped it tight in his fist, the snitches wings flapping impotently against his fingers.

The crowd roared and he heard the faint announcing over the noise that, "Harry Potter has caught the snitch! Gryffindor wins!"

He slowly glided to the ground, Malfoy in formation next to him. Harry held up the snitch, turning to the stands. When Malfoy landed he dismounted and threw his broom aside. He stood on the grass and merely glared at Harry. Gryffindors hurried to the field with hearty congratulations. The team gathered and made a whoop of victory. The usual rejoicing ensued, until it finally broke up and the Gryffindors left the field and the team members stalked to their changing tent.

But when the crowd dispersed, Harry noticed Malfoy still standing there.

His heart fluttered at the unexpected sight of Draco in his Quidditch uniform waiting for him.

"Going to beat me up, Malfoy?" asked Harry. He didn't move.

Malfoy said nothing and slowly took a few steps closer. "No. I just wanted to…talk."

"About what?" Harry didn't mean to be coy, but he was feeling cautious and a bit emotionally bruised.

Malfoy scanned the field. No one was there. The stands had emptied long ago. The equipment had all been put away, and the team members were surely changed and returning to where they were supposed to be.

He turned back and Harry flinched. He had never seen such raw emotions raging on Malfoy's face. "You bloody well know what I want to talk about. It's just-" He clutched his hands and rubbed them. "This is all pretty new to me."

Harry resisted the urge to enfold him in his arms. "I know. Believe me. I know exactly how you feel."

That old Slytherin expression took over for a moment, but it just as quickly died away. "Do you really…I mean. Are you really…in love with…me?"

Harry raised his chin and looked up into the clouding sky. White now covered the blue, taking away the shadows. A chill wind blew up and with it came the smell of rain.

Harry dropped his eyes to Draco's. Those were surely enough blue for him, he decided. "Yes. I am."

"And what if I didn't feel the same?"

Harry shrugged. "Then I guess I'd be pretty sad about that."

"But you said you…l-loved me for a long time. How did you…how was it to-?"

"It's been difficult."

Draco lowered his eyes. He stopped wringing his hands and dropped them to either side of him. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"Do you love me?" Harry was amazed at how steady his voice was. It shouldn't have been. His insides felt like jelly.

Draco looked at Harry. His silky hair blew up around his face but even as a few strands teased his nose it never interrupted his concentrated gaze. "Yes."

"Then come here."

More like a prisoner to the gallows, Draco dragged himself forward. But once he reached Harry, Harry raised his arms and took him into an embrace. With hesitant hands, Harry felt Draco touch his back and then slowly squeeze him tighter. Still holding Draco, Harry drew back, raised a hand to his face, and tenderly swept back his long hair. He leaned in and gently kissed Draco's lips. He kissed the corner of his mouth, then the other corner, then full on. Draco opened his lips and Harry covered his mouth completely, drawing him in tightly. The kiss became more urgent, more encompassing. Harry's hands combed into Draco's hair, while Draco's hands gripped Harry's shoulder blades. The kiss went on a long time, until gasping, they finally pulled apart. Draco adjusted Harry's glasses and smiled. "Okay. That was nice."

"Just nice? I put everything I had into that kiss, Malfoy."

The nervous look on Malfoy's face fell away. "Oh Potter. You've got to be kidding. You call that a kiss? I'll teach you how to kiss." He picked up his broom and took Harry's hand.

Harry felt the change and happily fell in step with Draco. "What are you talking about, Malfoy? If you think that was a decent snog, then you are sorely misinformed."

"Oh yeah? You amaze me, Potter. You have all the arrogance of a Slytherin."

"So do you."

They slowly walked toward the changing tents, arguing the whole time and squeezing each other's hand.


The End


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"Wands at the Ready"

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