𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊?

Chapter 2

“He’s gay,” Draco groaned as soon as he cleared the fire place.

“Who?” Pansy asked, glancing up from her book. “You have the look of a man in crisis,” she observed, marking her place with a slip of parchment and setting the book aside with an expectant air.

“He’s gay,” Draco repeated, running his fingers through his hair. “I never - but he’s gay.”

“Yes, you said that,” Pansy commented, wryly. “I fear I might need slightly more information to be helpful. A name would be a workable beginning.”

“Harry,” Draco explained, collapsing into his reading chair. “Harry is gay, and for some unknown reason, I imagined indulging in alcohol would be an enjoyable activity in his presence. What in Merlin’s name was I thinking? I have doubted my restraint when sober, and that was before I knew --”

“Draco,” Pansy interrupted. “Breathe. All right, I have a feeling that I am missing a rather important portion of your thinking. You have been ridiculously - Gryffindorishly - in love with Harry for years. I would think this discovery would be considered fortunate.”

“Yes, and he obviously feels the same,” Draco sneered. “He never hinted that he was even slightly less than straight.”

“To be fair, you still haven’t divulged your dirty little secret,” Pansy reminded him. “Or am I mistaken?”

“No,” Draco admitted.

“Perhaps he is as deep in the closet as you are,” Pansy suggested.

“No,” Draco argued. “His friends are well aware of his preferences, even his lovers, apparently.”

“He has a lover?” Pansy questioned, beginning to look a bit sympathetic, at last.

“No,” Draco admitted. “But he did.”

“Wait,” Pansy said, smiling. “You are upset because Harry has broken up with his male lover?”

“Hardly,” Draco snorted. “He never informed me, his queer supposed friend, that he was gay.”

“He thinks you’re straight, with a girlfriend of nearly ten years, in fact,” Pansy pointed out, wryly. “Or have you managed to forget your own part in this scenario?”

“Harry may be slightly unobservant,” Draco admitted. “But he’s no fool. As you are so fond of reiterating, I am the most royal of queens.”

“As you have made quite evident this evening,” Pansy admitted with a grin.

“Thank you,” Draco answered, wryly, closing his eyes and relaxing in his chair. “I am not looking forward to tonight.

“Dress to fuck, and seduce him,” Pansy said, shrugging and reclaiming her book. “You’re hardly unattractive. If he hasn’t considered the possibility before now, make him consider it tonight.”

“You’re dismissing me,” Draco commented flatly. “I am in crisis, and you are abandoning me.”

“Of course,” Pansy said, unrepentantly. “Go prepare yourself, and don’t come home tonight.”

“I don’t believe you have listened to a word that I’ve said,” Draco said, unbelievingly.

“I was listening when you informed me that the love of your life is available and of the persuasion to enjoy your advances,” Pansy said. “I stopped listening when you started attempting to make that an unfortunate finding. Now, go. I’m reading.”

“But,” Draco began, stopping when Pansy waved him away, not even glancing away from her book. “Fine.”

With a sigh, Draco turned and walked down the hallway, toward his bedroom. He might as well look good for his night of torture, though he had little doubt that his appearance would fail to influence Harry in the slightest.