Drarry One Shots

Happy Columbière's Day; a Day for Confessors

A/N Due to the number of requests for a part two to Happy bloody Lupercalia Day...

Also, as some have highlighted, there were definite pointers to Hermione's jealousy in the first part. There is a key reason for her behaviour which hopefully becomes clearer in this part: it relates to being an aftermath of the war much like Harry's need to prove himself in potions. What can seem like little things or insignificant actions or words can affect people massively. This is explained in more detail towards the end of the story.

Final note: St Columbière's Day is a thing. Claude La Columbière was a Jesuit priest and was the confessor of Margaret Mary Alacoque (a French Catholic nun who experienced visitations). His feast day is on the 15th February. Appropriate considering the date and that the story is about those hearing a certain confession.

*** 

There was, Harry thought to himself, no precedent in his life for things actually going swimmingly well for once. Instead, life had a way of being very complicated and was therefore about him surviving its trials and tribulations with unbendable will-power and through sheer dumb luck. So, yes, his life was complicated. Far more complicated than was necessary. And he wondered if there would ever be a day where everything would seem quite simple and straightforward...

Straight! He snorted softly to himself as he paced his small bedroom in the year eight dorms, waiting nervously. Well, today the entire school, including his best friends and adoptive family, were going to find out that Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the Boy Who Lived Twice, their Saviour, their Vanquisher, was as gay as two hot-pink Fwoopers dancing amidst Bird of Paradise flowers during a fiery sunset. And, on top of that, was dating his so-called arch-nemesis and the ex-Death-Eater, one Draco Lucius Malfoy.

That is, they'd find out if Draco actually came to his room and hadn't, in the cold light of day, had the awful epiphany that this was actually just a huge mistake...

Or perhaps it was a terrible joke at Harry's expense, Harry thought for the fifty-billionth time that morning. Perhaps Draco had uncovered Harry's deepest secret and was now going to use it to bring the Chosen One to his knees in front of the entire school and make him a laughing stock.

Who was Harry kidding? He was going to be a laughing stock anyway. Perhaps he should just skip breakfast and go straight to Quidditch practice.

He checked his watch again; certain Draco was now late and definitely standing him up.

No, it was only a few minutes before 8.30am. It seemed time had stood still for the last half-hour or, at least, was creeping painfully slowly towards its goal. Actually, it had been since 6am that morning when Harry had woken with a start and then panicked about the whole thing, thinking it was just another weird dream. He certainly recognised that the Great Hall had ended up looking like a scene out of a fantasy horror that had collided with a tin of pastel-pink paint.

He only knew it wasn't one of his bizarre dreams because the dirty plates were still by his bed, Draco's enchanting lights still wound around his bedpost; albeit faded, and Draco's wand was on Harry's bedside table.

Still, he kept checking that he was properly dressed and his clothes weren't going to suddenly disappear the moment he stepped into the Great Hall.

Harry hadn't, unsurprisingly, been able to go back to sleep, despite the ungodly hour. Eventually he'd got up and showered, dressed for Quidditch, tried to tame his hair with some spells, and attempted to read. He'd given up on reading fairly quickly when he found he wasn't able to concentrate. Instead, he decided that perhaps it would be best to pen a letter to Molly and Arthur, coming out to them and explaining the situation before The Daily Prophet did on his behalf. It was after that when he'd taken to wearing a groove in his floor.