Black Truth [READ DESCRIPTION]

chapter eighteen

Chapter Eighteen: Leaving Egypt

Draco wasn't surprised when Harry didn't follow him into their rooms. Oh Merlin, their rooms. Since when had it become "their" rooms instead of "his" rooms? Draco sighed, running his fingers through still damp hair. "Probably on the same day I fell on top of him," he muttered into the still room and then paused. "Salazar, that sounded so wrong."

Draco forced himself to go through the routine of getting ready for sleep, a process that took hours since he was so particular (the real reason why he made sure to get all the homework he would do for a day done before supper), before realizing that Medusa would have closed the portrait by now, which meant Harry still couldn't get in. And there would be no way he could get in until Draco told Medusa to open it.

"Oh well. His fault." Draco shrugged noncommittally even as he contradicted himself by getting out of bed and sitting down on the couch with the comforter, which he had unceremoniously pulled off of his bed, to wait for Harry to bang on the portrait again. Within ten minutes however, he was sound asleep.

Harry brooded, sitting up on the end of Ron's bed, as his was currently a few floors down in the dungeons.

"Harry, I've got to say that brooding about it won't make the situation go away, mate," Ron finally said with the air of one resigned for a long argument.

Harry looked pointedly at him. "Ron, if Draco Malfoy had just found out that you liked him, what would you do?"

"I would keel over laughing because I'm not gay," was the stoic reply.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I should hurt you for that sentence."

"But then people would wonder why there were strange sounds coming from the dormitory and they would have an excuse to break the locking charm you put on the door. Which, by the way, I think you should remove so the other boys can get some sleep even if you are determined to brood away the night hours."

"I'm not brooding."

And here they might as well have come full circle.

"Look, it's not that bad, Harry," Ron finally said in the silence.

"Explain what's so 'not that bad' about it, then."

Ron raised his eyes skyward with a thought akin to: What is this world coming too? I'm about to help my friend who is emotionally involved with a Malfoy…

"Well, Malfoy's a Veriae. It's not like he can really up and leave whenever he wants…"

"So I'm stuck with him acting smugly superior and/or disliking me for the rest of my life. Okay."

Ron groaned. "Look, I can't believe that I'm going to say this but I'm just going to say what I saw. And I don't care if it was the only kiss you two will ever share for the rest of your lives, you were both participating. Equally, I might add. No matter who says what, that is a fact."

"That was one kiss. It doesn't mean anything."

"That was your second kiss though, wasn't it?" Harry winced internally but he didn't bother telling Ron it was actually their third. Ron suddenly looked very serious. "If one kiss was enough to start this whole Veriae-bond-thing, then I think that it's a small thing for a second kiss to show that both parties are attracted to each other."

Harry thought for a moment. "When did you get so smart?"

"I can't believe I just said that," Ron muttered and began moving to the bathroom.