Dare Me

Seventh

"Harry?"

He opened his eyes sleepily to the beautiful sleeping face of Draco.

Harry smiled and pressed closer, placing a kiss on his cheek, then he heard "Harry?!" From somewhere that wasn't Draco.

"Harry Potter?!" He turned around, dreading the stuffy sound of McGonagall's voice.

Draco was still asleep behind Harry, so he stayed where he was to avoid waking the other boy. Plus, Draco's arms were still wrapped around him.

"H-Hi, Miss......"

Her eyes were wide, trying to look everywhere but at Harry's eyes. "You should sleep in the gryffindor dorm, Harry. Not in the corridors. Or.... In the slytherin dorms?" She was trying to make her brain adjust to this new fact.

Harry Potter- Straight.

No... That's not quite.....

Harry Potter- Gay.

Good.

"Oh, erm, we're not, um..."

McGonagall raised her eyebrows at Harry, who gave up trying to argue otherwise. "Don't tell Snape." He said wearily, and the teacher smiled.

"I can't promise anything, Potter, if you don't sleep in your dorm tomorrow night."

"I will!"

"Good. I promise, then. Snape is a bit.... Judgmental on those types of things, I do suppose."

"Thank you."

She left, and Harry thought about waking Draco up, but once McGonagall's footsteps faded from earshot, one eye shot open.

"Is she gone?" Draco whispered, laughter on his lips.

"Pfft. Yeah." Draco nuzzled Harry's neck, then propped his chin on Harry's shoulder.

Harry spoke up in a soft voice. It was still night, after all.

Happiness was full inside him.

"Hey, you know that kiss last night? Can we count it as our real first one, because as much as the other one was the best thing that ever happened to me, I kind of...."

Draco laughed and took Harry's hands in his own, kissing his fingertips. "Of course..."

At breakfast the next day every teacher looked at them weird excepting Snape; though he was bound to hear eventually. Students smirked suggestively at them, or girls would look away in shame, as if their thoughts were I can't believe I thought a gay man was cute. Harry wished he could go back and ask McGonagall not to tell anybody. Everything was strange and awkward and messy. Everything was awful.

Everything except for Malfoy. Malfoy was wonderful. Draco was wonderful.

Was this his plan?

Was Draco just going with another plan to make Harry's life as miserable as possible?

Was this all a ploy?

Was this budding love just?

Never mind these thoughts; never mind Draco staring at him in potions class. Just mind his own thoughts. Hermionie glanced at him like a cat would a mouse. Like he was helpless, or cute for struggling.

Why would she....?

And the worst were the looks between Ron and Hermionie in front of him, the looks between Hermionie and Draco. It weakened his trust like a chisel would slowly break down a perfect statue. Every secret word, whisper, look.