Part I –

"You… you just kissed me," Harry whispered almost more to himself as he took a small step back. Draco's cheeks flushed a bright pink, looking rather unusual with his pale complexion, and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words could be heard. The Gryffindor raised his gaze and their eyes met, the stare intense as the tension in the room grew steadily.

"I'm sorry," were the only pathetic words Draco Malfoy could manage after a bit of silence, and in response Harry shook his head slightly.

"Don't be…" For a brief second Harry wondered if he was just asleep and this all was some sick dream of his, some fantasy presenting itself, yet the feelings surrounding the two boys proved it was not. He was a bit surprised when Draco inched closer, though almost hesitantly, as if to ask. Harry just looked him in the eye, never moving, but Draco figured that to be enough of a yes, seeing as he swooped in like a raven after its most desired prey. Their lips pressed together tightly, and both nearly melted from the heat and lust radiating off of the other. The kiss was without a doubt quite passionate; but it was innocent and promising and tender. Both boys enjoyed the experience way too much, but for entirely different reasons.

Contrary to popular belief, the young Malfoy was not promiscuous in the least bit. He had lived for sixteen years without ever being kissed because he had intended on having every one of his 'firsts' to be with someone who deserved those pieces of Draco. Why he chose the Boy Who Lived, he had no idea. It was the same Gryffindor who denied Draco's friendship in their first year, who he relentlessly teased and sneered at constantly. But there had always been something interesting about Potter, something Draco could never quite put his finger on…

The famous Harry Potter was no stranger to sexual encounters by any means, yet this kiss was different than all the others he had ever had. There was something undeniably sweet about fumbling hands, trembling lips and sweaty palms. Not saying Draco was a bad kisser, it was just unusual being with someone so beautiful, yet so inexperienced and naïve to these things. It was refreshing in a sense, something Harry fully enjoyed.

The silver-eyed boy felt smooth arms snake around his slender waist, hands resting on the small of his back, lightly tugging him forward and closer. Harry had somehow propped himself up on a desk, and he wrapped his legs around Draco, bringing their lower halves quite close. He smiled into their kiss as he noticed a slight intake of breath from the other boy, and he decided to make him wriggle even more by moving up his hips slightly, bringing their groins together. Both groaned in a new sort of pleasure from the friction, and it was almost too much for Draco to handle as a shiver ran throughout his whole body, settling in one particular spot. Harry noticed, and let his fingers slide down Draco's torso, resting against the top of his slacks. Draco squeezed his eyes shut, and as hard as it definitely was, he pulled away quickly. Both instantly felt cold without the other near, yet instead of coming to him again, Draco left the room without another word. Harry leaned back and chuckled a little bit, thinking 'who knew detention could be so fun?'.

Breakfast –

"'Ello, Harry! How was detention? I didn't hear you come in last night, so it musta' been quite late. Did Malfoy try 'n hex you?" Ron chirped, too happy for the morning. 'Maybe something finally happened between him and Hermione,' Harry mused while shaking his head.

"Draco was rather pleasant, and detention…" Harry trailed off, mumbling somewhat, while staring at his plate of food. Fruit, pancakes, butter, bacon. All of it was growing colder, yet he couldn't bring himself to eat as he thought of the previous nights events. What had he been thinking? Pulling something like that with a Malfoy! Not only that, but… another male? He'd occasionally thought about other boys – but not often enough to be considered gay 'Or am I just tricking myself into believing I'm straight?'). The kiss with Malfoy was unlike any he'd experienced with some random girl. A girl had never been able to get his body to react so much, while with Malfoy… well, the only way to describe it was fireworks, really; bursts of color, light, feeling. Although no words could really do last night any justice.

"Harry? Harry, are you all right?" Hermione voiced her concern, tearing Harry away from his thoughts.

"'O course I am, 'Mione." He gave a halfhearted smile, then looked down the table to see random Gryffindors giving him the same look Hermione had. Some were whispering, others looked away with bright cheeks when they were caught staring. Harry shrugged and downed his orange juice, unaware of a set of bright, silver eyes burning into his back.

Draco Malfoy watched Harry's every move intently from across the room, not caring that his fellow Slytherins had noticed. That kiss replayed over and over in his mind, and he could almost feel Harry's tongue against his own once more. It was such an amazing feeling, and no doubt exactly how he had planned on his first kiss being… yet something felt a bit off about the situation. Was Harry even gay? He had never stopped to consider that. Draco had been fully aware of his sexual orientation his whole life, though not many had been as lucky as Draco when dealing and coming to terms with it. Most just ignored their feelings and married women, keeping the family name going. But Draco wasn't interested in that; arsehole he may be, but also a hopeless romantic. Not like he'd let his friends know something so stupid, though. Never.

Being homosexual in the wizarding world was definitely not the best of things to be. It was quite scandalous and looked down upon; yet somehow gay marriage was still permitted. Not many gay couples did that, though; their families would surely disown them. And if wasn't already obvious, family ties and appearances were quite important. At least to people like the Malfoy's, Parkinson's, or the Blacks.

As much as Draco wished to know some answers from Potter, he dared not go near him, for fear of it being awkward. In fact, he felt as if for the rest of the day, he should do his best to steer clear of the scarhead. It would do no good to have some sort of scene, and others watching…

He didn't even remember how it started, really. They were bored in detention, so they just started… talking. Not necessarily civilly, but they were speaking to one another. And then Harry had gotten close, or maybe it was Draco who moved closer. The details were hazy; the whole thing itself was just a blur. But somehow it happened; one of them got close enough and the other couldn't take it. Kisses were placed tenderly on throats, hands ran through hair, nails lightly scratched flawless skin. It was a night to remember, yet at the same time, a night Draco wished he could forget.

Potions was almost unbearable for them. Harry sat stiffly and upright in his chair, keeping his eyes focused fully and solely on Professor Snape, even though that was a difficult task. Who liked to watch the old greasy git? He'd rather be cleaning cauldrons again. Hermione and Ron were staring at Harry, mouths slightly parted in awe. Obviously they wondered why the sudden change, but seeing as Harry was in no mood to talk, they did not question.

Draco did almost the exact opposite. He slid down in his chair, trying to hide as much as possible. Even though he was trying to get any and all attention off of himself (which was rare), it had the opposite effect, and random kids watched to see what was wrong. He blushed furiously and straightened up in his seat, clearing his throat slightly while trying to regain his composure. It wasn't rather difficult, considering he let a cool mask grace his face everyday, hiding his emotions.

Snape kept a watchful eye on his beloved Draco and Harry throughout class, noticing their attempt to try and get as far away from each other. It was a rather unusual sight, since the boys normally would fight openly instead of backing away. Maybe they were growing up and maturing? 'Draco's too smart to start trusting a Gryffindor,' Snape thought as he sneered to himself.

At the end of the day, Harry was more than happy to plop down onto his bed and close his eyes. It would have been perfect if it weren't for the fact Malfoy was still on his mind. He hated the fact he was being so immature and ignoring the Slytherin, but wasn't he doing the same? Or so it seemed. Harry rolled over onto his stomach and pressed his face into his pillow, which muffled his yell of exasperation. He felt overheated and completely uncomfortable in his bed for some reason; the sheets too sticky with sweat, maybe. Deciding sleep would not fall upon him any time soon, Harry rolled out of bed and grabbed his robes as he made his way out of the dormitory. The common room was nearly empty except for a few second years playing chess or reading, but none even looked up as he walked by. 'What a nice change,' he thought to himself.

Malfoy tossed in his bed, feeling restless and annoyed for some reason. 'Maybe it's the fact I'm still thinking about that bloody kiss.' He shook his head, not wanting to admit it to himself as he sat straight up, pulling off his nightshirt. It was too hot of a night, which was not normal for Hogwarts. Even with his chest bare the room was too warm, so he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and raised himself. Slowly he made his way to a window and opened it wide, letting the breeze sting his face. He closed his eyes and for a moment felt somewhat peaceful, enjoying the cool air and beauty of the night. A dark figure caught his eye, though; it was slowly moving across the sidewalk not too far from his window. Since they were almost level, Draco shifted off to the side in the shadows, yet let his gaze lingering on the wandering man. It suddenly dawned on him that the moving figure was indeed the reason he was awake this very night. He sighed to himself, a little more loudly than he had hoped, considering Harry raised his head and looked from side to side. Draco threw his back against the wall and out of Harry's vision, relived he wasn't caught watching. He made his way back to his bed, knowing her wouldn't sleep, but also knowing he needed to try.

"Harry, are you sure you've been all right?" Hermione questioned as they walked from Defense Against The Dark Arts to lunch. Harry gave a quick look around, noticing they were the only ones in the hall. 'Good,' he thought, before taking a deep breath. Was he sure he wanted to tell her? He figured she'd be accepting of his sexual orientation, after all. It was his best friend, besides Ronald Weasly, and he knew for a fact Ron wouldn't take the news well.

"Well…. Yes, I have. But there is something I've been meaning to mention to you, Hermione." Harry stopped and turned towards her, ignoring the growing look of concern.

"Anything, Harry. You can trust me." She gave a reassuring smile, pushing aside Harry's fears.

"You know I've never really had a girlfriend before."


"You know it's been hard for me, to be alone all these years, while everyone else is in a relationship."

"Quite understandable."

"Have you ever wondered why I don't have someone?"

"Well, not really. I just figured the right girl hasn't come along yet. But Harry, I KNOW she will," She gave him the same sweet smile, yet Harry didn't take as much comfort in it.

"It might not be an issue of 'the right her', exactly…" Harry trailed off, hoping Hermione would get the hint. Hermione blinked in confusion, making Harry sigh.

"What I'm trying to say is, I don't know if there will ever be a right girl." A look of clarity crossed Hermione's face at these words, and she chuckled.

"Oh of course there will! Everyone has a right person for them."

"Yes, a right person… and I am saying I don't think my 'right person' will be a female." Harry breathed out quickly, knowing that the statement couldn't confuse Hermione in the least bit. She stood there, silent and stunned for a moment, then shut her mouth. Her jaw dropped again as if she was going to speak, but she obviously didn't know what to say.

"Er… well Harry, that's quite a big statement to make, especially at such a young age… you c-can't truly know what you like or dislike by now, heh…" Hermione's eyes pleaded, as if asking him to say this was all a joke.

"Hermione… I know I'm gay. I've always known."

"Not to be rude, but Harry, you've been quite the whore with the women." Hermione whispered fiercely.

"I think I was trying to make myself think differently about guys. Maybe if I slept with enough women, I could forget…" He was cut off almost immediately.

"Then do it! Have casual sex with ten, twenty, thirty girls!"

"'Mione, I already have…" Harry's voice was incredibly quiet, yet it seemed like the words rang through the air.

"You can't be gay."

"I am."

"Have you ever even kissed a boy!"

"…yes…I have."


"Hermione, can we please move this conversation to the common room? We can skip our next class. If you want to keep talking about this, we can't stand here, lunch is almost over."

"No, I do not want to hear any more of this rubbish – this is nonsense, Harry." Hermione angrily wiped tears off of her cheeks and stormed off to some place unknown. Harry stood there stunned, not knowing whether to go after her, or be angry. She was his best friend! Why wasn't she being rational about this? And since when did Harry Potter's sexual preference matter? He glared in her direction, and then spun around, back facing her. He started walking without knowing where he was going, but he needed to go somewhere.

"Hermione! What's wrong?" Ron hugged his bushy haired girlfriend tightly after noticing her distressed look. She came stomping into the Gryffindor common room, causing a ruckus, which was quite unlike her.

"Harry," She spat.

"What about 'im?" Ron looked utterly confused, releasing Hermione so he could look at her.

"He's g…"

"What was that?"

"He's gay…" Hermione whispered too quietly, and Ron rolled his eyes.

"Really Hermione! Speak up!"

"HE'S A FUCKING HOMOSEXUAL!" She shouted, causing startled Gryffindors to stare at her with eyes wide.

"What? No he's not! He's shagged too many women."

"Apparently that's why he shagged them," Hermione breathed out as she dropped onto a worn out chair.

"Hermione, you've got to be kidding. My best mate is not a faggot." Ron stated matter-of-factly, as he always did.

"Yes, he is." She replied through gritted teeth.

"Dear Merlin, he is?" His voice was considerably quieter now as well. "Does he have a… lover?"

"He told he's been snogging a boy, but he wouldn't tell me who." Hermione felt a tad bit bad about exaggerating; he never said he currently had a snogging partner, he just said there's been one, maybe in the past.

"I can't believe it, 'Mione… I just can't believe it."

Harry realized it must be getting late and close to dinner, so he turned around and headed down the path he came from. He had been wandering around outside, just thinking things over. He couldn't take it all in; snogging a boy and then thinking about him day and night, telling Hermione his secret and having her become furious. He didn't know how much worse his life could get at the point, but at least he knew this was the bottom.

When Harry entered the Great Hall, he spotted Hermione and Ron sitting in the normal spot at the Gryffindor table, smiling and laughing like normal. 'Maybe she's cooled down,' Harry hoped to himself as he made his way over. He walked up behind Ron and stood there for a moment, then realized he was being ignored.

"Erm… Ron? Could you please scoot over so I can have a seat?" Ron looked over his shoulder in disgust.

"No." Came the simple, yet hurtful, reply.

"Wh-what? I sit here every day, why can't I now?"

"Because you're a cocksucker, that's why." Ron said coolly, though you could tell his anger was rising. Harry gasped slightly by the accusation, but quickly recovered.

"What the hell?"

"You heard me! YOU'RE GAY! I don't want you sitting next to me!" Ron shouted, and suddenly all the chatter stopped. Harry glanced around the room and noticed all eyes were on him. He looked up at the teachers, and all of them were silent and shocked as well.

"Ron, it's not like I'm going to hit on you," Harry said quietly and desperately.

"How the bloody 'ell do I know that! Get away, now, I don't want to see you." Dumbledor cleared his throat loudly and stood up.

"Ronald Weasly, I suggest you keep quiet, we have all heard enough from you tonight." Dumbledor's voice was calm as usual, but held some fierceness and promise of punishment if he continued. Ron turned from Harry and began eating again. Harry slowly turned from him and made his way to the doors, feeling as if his life was crashing down around him. Before he exited the Great Hall, his green eyes met sympathetic silver ones, yet he kept walking.