Short drabble. To fill up my time and take my mind off the horrible midterm exam I just went through.
Warning: HPDM. If you can't take slash, this is so the wrong story.
Be nice, this is one of my first stories. Already started the other two, but I've yet to find the guts to publish them.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all stuff related to it are not mine.
Harry Potter knew what his destiny was.
After Professor Dumbledore had revealed to him the portents of the prophecy, he didn't think he could see the world in the same way again.
This had led him, on one sultry summer evening in Privet Drive, to reevaluate himself and the people around him. Unfortunately, reevaluating himself had meant a journey into the foreign world known as his emotions.
Harry turned away from the view of the lake and turned to face his best friends who were sitting in front of the fireplace, waiting expectantly for him to speak.
"I'm just collecting my thoughts."
Neither can live while the other survives…
Harry gulped. He would much rather be caught by Filch and hanged on his toes, much rather be forced to have a dozen detentions with Snape (okay, maybe only half a dozen), much rather be defeated in Quidditch by Draco Malfoy, much rather be written about by Rita Skeeter and even much rather face Voldemort a hundred times over than to have to tell his best friends this right now.
He hoped they would take it well although his luck had been completely screwed up these past couple of days.
But how do you tell this kind of thing to your best friends? He knew Ron wouldn't take it too well. He only hoped Hermione would understand. Harry shook his head. There it was again. Hoping.
"We're waiting, mate," Ron declared a tad impatiently.
Hermione made a threatening noise to Ron, meant to warn him that Harry would say what he had to say in his own good time and that Ron shouldn't force him. Harry knew Ron didn't get the message though.
"You guys… there's something I have to tell you…" he began hesitantly.
Hermione inclined her head, inviting him to continue. Harry cleared his throat.
"Well you see, last year… I sort of discovered something… about myself," Harry stuttered.
Why was he stuttering? Mentally, he cursed himself.
Hermione sighed. "Harry, you do know that no matter what you tell us, you're still our friend right? We won't judge you. We've been through too much already. We're friends, no matter what. So I suggest that instead of beating around the bush, you come out straight and tell us what's bothering you."
"Okay." You asked for it. "Well the thing is, Ron, 'Mione…"
Harry nervously ran a hand through his hair.
Harry lay on his four poster bed thinking of his friends. He sighed.
They had fainted and were still unconscious in the Hospital Wing. Despite the situation, he felt lighter. He grinned.
Well, they took that rather well.
HPDM coming up in later chapters. Must sleep. It's 12:40. I have a seven am class. Tomorrow. Ungodly, ne?