Nearly

They wake up to catcalls and applause. Blushing furiously they sit up, grinning shyly at each other as their friends lob pillows at their heads and sing taunting love songs. But as embarrassing as it is, Harry can’t bring himself to be bothered because he hasn’t been this happy in quite a while…

He peers over at Draco and catches the small smile on the other boy’s face, even as his cheeks burn an adorable pink. He swats Seamus’ pillow from the air before it hits him in the shoulder and lobs it right back. 

”It’s so unfair”, Seamus wails, but it’s almost immediately broken up by a half-suppressed cackle. ”If the two of you can get laid, with those ugly mugs…”

”Who said anything about getting laid?” Draco mumbles, his blush deepening. 

Everyone ignores him, except for Blaise who rolls his eyes subtly.

”I’m like the only Slytherin boy above Third Year not getting any”, Seamus continues to whine. 

”Because your ugly mug is the least of your problems”, Blaise tells the Irish boy, then whacks him in the face with his pyjama bottoms. 

”Oi —!” Seamus yelps, flinching so dramatically he almost topples backwards off his bed. ”You nearly took my eye out!”

”Well, even if that could only improve your face, there’s still your personality…”

The others snicker and Harry joins in whole-heartedly. It’s unbelievable, really… less than twenty-four hours ago, panic was rushing through his system like a Titillando Curse and he’d been sure he was about to drown in front of a live audience, before having the chance to make up with Draco, and now… He looks over at the blonde’s face again and grins happily at the shy, but sly smile he can see there. As if sensing Harry’s eyes on him, Draco’s gaze flickers over to meet them and the smile softens slightly. 

”You guys are disgusting”, Blaise says flatly. ”Stop mooning over each other before I throw up…”

”Shut up, Zabini”, Harry snaps good-naturedly. 

It turns out, however, that Blaise isn’t the only one to be disturbed over the amount of shy glances and secretive smiles shared by Harry and Draco this morning, because Professor Snape takes one look at them as they enter the Potions classroom and immediately scowls. Harry doesn’t know how the man knows about their sleeping arrangement last night, but he’s sure that he does… and even though Harry tries to act like normal and respectfully keep his focus on the scarab beetle eyes he’s mashing up, for some reason he finds himself physically incapable of keeping his eyes off Draco for more than a few seconds and, considering he catches the other boy staring at him every time he glances over it would appear the blonde is suffering from the same mysterious affliction… 

”Okay, that’s enough”, Professor Snape snaps a quarter into the lesson. ”Draco stay where you are — Harry, move up here — now — come on, bring your things!”

Feeling his face heat up, Harry ducks his head and begins to gather up his ingredients with fumbling haste, conscious of everyone’s eyes on him. The Gryffindors look between him and Draco either curiously or with frowns of confusion, while the Slytherins snicker and Seamus lets out a wolf-whistle before Professor Snape shoots him a warning glare.

Harry hauls his cauldron to the empty table in front of Professor Snape’s desk and heaves it onto the table top before lifting the ingredients out of it again and lining them up on the table in the order he’ll need them. 

Professor Snape sweeps around the classroom, inspecting the students’ work closely, but ignoring Granger’s as usual, probably so he won’t be forced to dole out any points to Gryffindor unnecessarily… Instead, he swoops down on Longbottom with such finality that the boy startles, spilling his scarab beetle eyes all over the floor and down his own robes. 

”Five points from Gryffindor, Longbottom…” Professor Snape says swiftly. 

He then swirls around and swats the back of Seamus’ head to get the boy to focus on his potion instead of trying to drop scarab beetle eyes down the back of Daphne’s robes. 

”Won’t deck any points though…” Harry hears Ron mutter and turns his head around to see Dean Thomas nod sourly. 

”Harry!” Professor Snape snaps. ”If I catch you looking anywhere but at those scarab beetle eyes in front of you one more time…”

”Sorry, Sir!” Harry says quickly, turning back around. 

Clearly not trusting Harry to be able to keep his focus for long, Professor Snape stalks to the front of the classroom and lowers himself into the seat behind his desk. Harry glances up at him, but quickly returns his focus to grinding the beetle eyes into a fine powder when he receives one of the Potions Master’s deadliest glares in return. 

”That’s enough”, Snape hisses. 

Harry looks up in surprise. The man gives his powdered beetle eyes a meaningful look, frowning deeply. Harry hurries to tip them into his cauldron, then reaches for his ginger roots instead and begins to cut them into even pieces. 

There’s a knock on the door to the classroom. Everyone looks up curiously. 

”Enter”, Snape says. 

The door swings open and to everyone’s surprise Professor Karkaroff walks inside, heading straight to the front of the classroom. He’s got a finger twisted in his goatee again, but it looks less like a strategy to achieve that sophisticated curl and more like a nervous tick now… In fact, Harry thinks the man looks quite agitated when he pulls to a stop right next to Professor Snape, his eyes flitting all over the place but not really focusing on anything.

”We need to talk”, he says in an abrupt undertone, lips barely moving at all. 

Harry quickly ducks his head again and concentrates hard on keeping his knife busy, while listening intently. 

”I’ll talk to you after my lesson, Karkaroff”, Professor Snape says quietly. 

”I want to talk now, while you can’t slip off, Severus! You’ve been avoiding me —”

”After the lesson”, Snape snaps again. 

Pretending to hold up his measuring cup to make sure he’s poured enough armadillo bile into it, Harry sneaks a quick look at the two professors. Karkaroff definitely looks agitated now, fidgeting at Snape’s shoulder and looking around worriedly while Snape continues to glare across the classroom, looking angrier than Harry has seen him in a while… His dark eyes flicker down to meet Harry’s and Harry quickly ducks his head again, adding some more armadillo bile to the measuring cup. 

This is the second time Harry has caught Karkaroff trying to talk to Professor Snape and considering the man keeps using Snape’s first name, he can only assume they know each other from before… He hasn’t heard Karkaroff address any of the other teachers by their first name after all, not even Dumbledore. But however he and Professor Snape know each other, it doesn’t seem as though they’re on particularly good terms. At least Snape doesn’t appear too thrilled to talk to the other man. If what Karkaroff said is true, he’s even been avoiding the man.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Harry knocks over the bottle of armadillo bile just before the bell rings, so that he has an excuse to stay behind and continue to eavesdrop as he bends down to mop up the mess from the floor. 

”What’s so urgent?” he hears Snape hiss as the other students begin to pack up and move out of the classroom noisily. 

”This”, Karkaroff snarls, and Harry quickly peers around his cauldron to see him pull up his left-hand sleeve and show Snape something on his inner forearm. ”Well? Do you see? It’s never been this clear before, not since —”

”Put it away!” Snape snarls and with an exasperated side-long glance in Harry’s direction, he finally manages to shut Karkaroff up. 

The man pulls his sleeve back down and then throws Harry a withering look, before hurrying out of the classroom again, clutching his arm desperately to his chest and slamming the door shut behind him. 

Snape turns to Harry with flashing black eyes as he folds his arms tightly across his chest — almost as tightly as Karkaroff had clutched his arm, Harry thinks. 

”I dropped… ehm… this”, Harry says, gesturing vaguely with the half-empty bottle of armadillo bile. 

Snape’s scowl deepens, but his eyes soften tiredly.

”Just… get out of my classroom, Harry. You’ll be late for Charms”, he says, but there’s hardly any bite behind the words. 

”Yes, Sir…” Harry mumbles. 

*

At the end of March most of the snow has melted away from the grounds and the sun starts to make an almost daily appearance. Harry and his friends, like most of the students at Hogwarts, begin to venture outside for longer and longer periods in-between classes and at lunchtime, soaking up the sunlight with such eagerness you only really feel after having lived through a particularly long and cold Scottish winter. The Slytherins and Ravenclaws maybe even more so than the other two houses, since their underground dormitories are colder and damper than those located above ground. 

Despite this, and despite the sense of contentment Harry undoubtedly feels basking in the afternoon sun with his friends, he still prefers hanging out in the gloomy Common Room where Draco will drape himself along his side and hold his hand for no other reason than to be close… something he (obviously) can’t do anywhere else in or outside the castle — and Harry has come to terms with that, he really has — but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s a pity… if Harry had it his way, he would be plastered to the blonde around the clock (with the possible exception of either of them having to use the loo…)

Before they know it, Easter Holidays are upon them, but considering the amount of homework they’ve been assigned, the fourth years will hardly have time to take a break from their studies at all. Almost as an added insult to the ridiculous mountain of school work to get through, a Hogsmeade visit has been scheduled for the Easter weekend… Harry considers asking Draco if he wants to tag along and have lunch with him and his dads, but in the end he decides he doesn’t want to rock the boat now that everything has worked out finally, so he tells Draco and their friends that he’ll meet up with them in the Three Broomsticks later in the afternoon.

As usual, Harry is the first in line to have his name ticked off by Filch, and then makes his way down to Hogsmeade at a brisk pace, finally breaking into a run as he reaches the High Street and doesn’t stop until he reaches the small gate of Number Two Creirwy’s Hollow, in fact he’s managed to pick up such a momentum he can only stop by crashing into the gate. 

”Whoa…” Sirius says as he steps out of the front door. ”Watch the hinges…”

Harry slams the gate shut behind him again and it does appear to be slightly more wonky now… He gives his dad an apologetic look, but the man just pulls him into his chest and wraps his arms around him tightly, clapping him on the back before pulling away again. Remus who has now joined them on the driveway quickly takes his place and embraces Harry and although it lacks the abruptness of Sirius’ hug, it’s just as tight if not more so. 

”Daddy”, Harry gasps after a moment. ”Can’t breathe…”

”Sorry, sorry”, Remus mumbles, finally releasing Harry again. 

They walk inside the cottage and after a quick cup of coffee, Harry and Remus adjourn to the lounge where they spend the rest of the morning practising Stunning and Disarming charms in preparation for the third task. 

After a couple of hours Sirius joins them and watches proudly as Harry demonstrates the progress he’s made. 

”You know, I think you have a chance at winning this tournament, Harry…”

”Don’t start”, Remus snaps. 

”I’m just saying… Our boy has grown up to be a very talented wizard, I think he could have given James a run for his money!”

”That’s not the point”, Remus mutters. 

”I know”, Sirius says slowly. ”I know that and I know you’re worried. I’m worried. I just think it’s all right to be worried and proud…”

Remus doesn’t say anything for a while, just gives his husband a pensive look. He then turns back to Harry and pierces him with the same look. 

”I am proud of you, Harry”, he says seriously after a second. ”I hope you’ve never doubted that…”

”No, I know”, Harry says quickly, blushing slightly. ”I know you are…”

”Well, now that that’s settled”, Sirius says. ”Time for a spot a lunch, I think!” 

Harry feels a surge of relief and gratitude to Sirius for breaking up the rather heavy moment. Not that he doesn’t appreciate his daddy’s sentiments and support, he really does. But sometimes the man can get a little too intense, especially when it comes to protecting his family. Harry supposes it’s the werewolf in him… 

A roasted leg of lamb is waiting for them in the kitchen, surrounded by all sorts of greens, roasted potatoes and a steaming gravy boat. Harry feels his stomach growl in anticipation and eagerly takes his seat at the table. 

”Do you know why Barty Crouch wasn’t at the Second Task, Harry?” Remus asks curiously, as he hands him the carrots. ”His personal assistant was filling in for him…”

”Yeah, Ron’s brother Percy”, Harry says. ”He went to the Yule Ball instead of Mr Crouch as well, said he was overworked or something…”

Sirius snorts, ”Overworked… It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s gone round the bend finally… That house-elf of his who was found on the scene of the Dark Mark at the World Cup, probably just hiding in the woods during all the commotion, he gave it clothes, right then and there, in front of everyone… There’s no way a house-elf conjured that Dark Mark. I don’t care that they found Harry’s wand next to her. She could just as easily have found it on the forest floor.” 

”I don’t think she did it, either”, Harry says remembering the pitiful elf. ”Mr Crouch made her sit in that Top Box the whole game and save his seat for him and she looked terrified. She kept hiding her face in her hands. And he never even showed up…” 

”Doesn’t surprise me”, Sirius mutters. ”Crouch has been a cold-hearted bastard ever since the war…”

”Since the war? Why?” Harry asks, feeling a twinge of dread. ”Did his family…?”

”You could say that”, Sirius mutters darkly. ”His son was caught hanging out with — with a couple of Death Eaters.”

”D-Death Eaters? So… what happened to him—?”

”Barty sent him to Azkaban. Didn’t even bat an eye—!” 

Harry stares. What kind of parent would send their own child to Azkaban?

As if reading his mind, Remus gives Harry a sad smile and rubs his arm gently. 

”—Gave him a life sentence even”, Sirius continues. ”Even though he’d just turned eighteen, and some argued he was just a young lad who fell in with the wrong crowd and that should have made the Wizengamot more lenient but…”

”He was just eighteen?” Harry says. ”So he’s been in Azkaban almost half his life—”

”No, cub…” Remus says softly. ”He only served one year of his sentence in the end… after that he… well, he died…”

”He died?” Harry repeats incredulously.

”Yeah, and Barty’s wife died soon after as well, some would say from a broken heart”, Sirius mutters. ”If Barty was a ruthless workaholic before, he only got worse after that… I’m surprised it’s taken him this long to lose it, to be honest”, he adds almost casually. 

”It was dark times back then, Harry”, Remus says gently, rubbing his arm again. ”During the war and after… and you know terror, it… it can bring out the worst in people—”

”Or the best”, Sirius says immediately. ”No better judge of character, in my opinion.”

”Yes, well”, Remus says in a rather clipped tone. ”It’s complicated, is all I’m saying…”

”Not from where I’m sitting”, Sirius says briskly, but he finally pays heed to Remus’ warning frown and changes the subject. 

Their conversation is halted altogether however, when an owl taps on the window. It’s not an owl that Harry recognises. It’s got at least two different letters clamped securely in its beak.

”Oh what now…” Remus murmurs. 

Sirius gets up and opens the window. The owl swoops in and drops a handful of letters onto the table, before flying out the window again. Harry sits up a little straighter so that he can get a good look at the envelopes, to see if he recognises the handwriting, but be barely gets a look at the first one before Sirius has snatched all the letter up and shoved them out of sight under today’s copy of the Daily Prophet on the kitchen counter. 

”What…” Harry says, looking in confusion between his dads scowling faces. 

”Don’t worry about it, Harry”, Remus mutters. 

”How do they keep finding our address?” Sirius growls as he sits back down heavily. 

”I don’t know”, Remus says quickly. ”We’ll talk about it later…”

”What’s going on?” Harry asks cautiously.

”Nothing”, Sirius and Remus say in unison. 

”Why are you lying? What’s going on?” Harry says in alarm. 

Sirius sighs in exasperation, ”Oh, let’s just tell him…”

Harry whips his head around to stare at Remus. The man is eyeing his husband with a doubtful frown. 

”He’ll find out sooner or later anyway!” Sirius adds. ”Just tell him!”

”Tell me what? Daddy, what’s going on—?”

”It’s really nothing to worry about, Harry — but I will tell you”, he adds quickly, when Harry opens his mouth to protest. ”Ever since Rita Skeeter started writing about us in the Daily Prophet, we’ve been receiving letters from people… random strangers… who believe all those things she’s saying.”

”And, what?” Harry says. ”What do they want? What do the letter say?”

”Just spiteful rubbish”, Remus says with a dismissive shake of his head. 

”The ones addressed to me are”, Sirius corrects. ”They’re usually from little old witches with The Boy Who Lived’s best interest at heart and they want to tell me exactly what they think of my decision to marry a werewolf…”

”I don’t understand…” Harry says. 

Remus gives him a small smile and Harry can’t help but notice that his eyes get a little misty. 

”Oh, you know”, Sirius continues breezily. ”How can I call myself a father, I should be ashamed of myself—”

”For what”, Harry persists. ”I don’t get it—!”

”For raising you in a home with a werwolf, Harry”, Remus says quietly. ”They think it’s a form of child abuse.”

”Child abuse!” Harry splutters. 

”It’s not as crazy as it sounds—”

”It’s absolutely mental”, Sirius growls, sending his husband a glare. 

”They believe I’m dangerous”, Remus says with an awkward shrug. ”Their hearts are in the right place…”

”And the tossers who send you death threats, are their hearts in the right place too—?”

Remus shuts his eyes briefly as a pained sigh escapes him. 

”Death threats?” Harry exclaims. ”What—!”

”Was that necessary?” Remus asks his husband quietly. 

Sirius’ anger seems to simmer down finally and he looks regretful as he eyes Harry’s alarmed face. 

”It’s nothing to worry about”, he tells him. ”They’re just empty threats—”

”Have you contacted the Aurors?”

”There’s no need, Harry — really — plus they wouldn’t be able to do anything”, Sirius says heavily. ”The threats are always anonymous…”

”So, what, they’re not even going to try—?”

”It’s better to just ignore them”, Remus says firmly. ”It will blow over once the tournament is over… How are things with Draco?”

Even after finding out his dads have been dealing with something so sinister, essentially because of him — well, no, he tells himself when the thought flares up, because of Rita fucking Skeeter — at the very mention of Draco, he feels his whole body fill up with a warmth he’s now come to identify as the very specific brand of happiness he feels when he’s with the other boy, and before he knows what’s happening, he’s smiling again.

”Great, really great…” he says. 

To his utter bafflement, his dads exchange a quick look and then Sirius makes a quick excuse and dashes out of the kitchen.

”That’s great, Harry. Really”, Remus says gently, smiling reassuringly at him before sobering up again and schools his face in what appears to be his most neutral expression. ”Last year, you mentioned sleeping with Draco… is that something… something you’ve continued doing?”

With a jolt, Harry realises what’s happening. His daddy is having the talk with him… torn between hysterical amusement and utter mortification, Harry sits petrified and blinks owlishly while a traitorous blush spreads rapidly in his face. Now he knows why Sirius left the kitchen in such a rush… wish I could leave as well…

”You said at the time that you and Draco just slept, nothing more—”

”We didn’t!”

”That’s fine, Harry”, Remus says quickly. ”I believe you, but… well, as much as I like to think otherwise most of the time, you are getting older and… and I’m sure you’re having all sorts of… feelings… yes?”

”Ehm…”

”And I just want you to know that whatever you’re feeling is completely natural”, Remus adds firmly. 

”Oh o-okay…” Harry says faintly. 

”And although you really should be sure that you’re… ready… before you start to act on those feelings, it is perfectly natural that you should… want to… ehm, act on them”, Remus flounders slightly, but quickly composes himself again, adding quickly, ”With Draco.”

As if I’d want to be doing anything with anyone else, Harry thinks. 

”Now, I don’t want to put you through too much embarrassment, Harry”, Remus says with an apologetic look. ”But I really want you to know that you can talk to me about… anything you might be feeling, or ask me any questions you might have… ”

Harry feels his face heat up even further and stares down at table top, but nods quickly to show his daddy that he understands. 

”And…” Remus hesitates briefly. ”You don’t have to tell me, but… have you and Draco… done anything more than just sleep since… since the last time we talked about it?”

”Ehm… Well… A little”, Harry mumbles, feeling positively feverish. ”A little more, I guess.”

”Okay…” Remus says slowly, his voice carefully neutral. 

”Um… we’ve… you know, touched… each other”, Harry adds, glancing up shyly. 

Remus nods quickly, and gives him an encouraging smile but there’s definitely a red hue to his cheeks, ”Okay! That’s fine! Like I said, natural and… fine for now, really. I mean. If you should want to do… other things… eventually… it’s normal to experiment together, when you’re in a committed relationship, like you and Draco are, so that’s all… that’s fine. Just never do anything you don’t feel comfortable with and… you’re only fourteen, you have all the time in the world, so there’s no need to rush into anything you — or Draco — might not be ready for, you understand?”

Harry nods quickly again. 

”And — Harry, this is important — you need to be really careful if you’re using any spells… in fact, I don’t want you to use any spells at all, at this stage—”

”Spells?” Harry asks blankly. 

”When you — at some point in the future — if you want to try other things with Draco, such as … ehm, massaging each other for example, or… you’ll want to use something to help… lubricate.”

”Oh…” Harry says faintly, not really sure what his daddy is talking about, but sure it’s not as innocent as a massage sounds.

”Some adults use a spell for that for example, and there are other spells one might want to experiment with to enhance the sexual experience as well, but — and I’m serious about this, Harry — you are much too young to be attempting spells like that. Adults get into accidents all the time, because their aroused state bungles up their concentration so it’s really not something that a pair of teenagers should be playing around with, understand?”

”Yes”, Harry says hurriedly. 

”When the day comes and you and Draco want to… massage each other… there are salves that work just as well as any lubrication spell. Better in fact. I’ll even get some for you, if you want… and…” he hesitates again, but only for a second. ”I also wanted to give you this…”

He twists around in his seat and grabs a book from the counter behind him and gently slides it across the table. Harry stares at it, his cheeks so hot he can barely feel them at all anymore.

”The Workings of the Heart and Body: a wizard’s guide to sexual and romantic relations”, it says in large and oddly colourful letters across the cover of the book. 

”It will hopefully answer any questions you or Draco might have, and like I said before, I’m also happy to answer anything you want to ask… okay?”

Not really finding his voice anymore, Harry simply nods again. 

”Yes?” Remus prods, his lips twitching slightly. 

Harry glances up at him shyly again and smiles slightly as he nods again. 

”Good”, Remus says decisively, then turns to shout over his shoulder. ”Coast is clear!”

Within seconds, Sirius bounds back into the room and drapes himself in his seat. Then begins to chat animatedly like he never left at all, while Remus gets up and retrieves a massive Simnel cake from the pantry and places in the middle of the table, before loading the cafetiere for three cups of coffee.

When Harry pulls the book towards him and puts it in his lap, his dad becomes extremely distracted by a bird flitting past the kitchen window, but his speech never wavers. 

Remus is watching him with fond exasperation, and for some reason that more than anything makes Harry relax about the whole thing again and he grins happily as his dad spins them a story from the Ministry, half of it clearly exaggerated if not completely made up. 

”It was great to have you home…” Remus says, as he hugs Harry goodbye a while later. ”Here, I forgot I made these. Why don’t you take them with you?”

He presses a large bundle into Harry’s hands. Peeking inside, Harry sees at least a dozen hot cross buns and grins.

”Thanks, daddy!”

By the time Harry reaches the Three Broomsticks, most Hogwarts students are finishing up their butterbeers and making their way out of there, but Harry spots a familiar white-blonde head sticking up over the edge of a booth at the back and hurries over. Draco is joined by Blaise, Seamus, Theodore and — to Harry’s dismay — Pansy and Daphne. 

The boys all look up and grin in greeting when they see him, but the girls pretend not to have noticed his entrance at all. Fine by me, Harry thinks and slides into the seat next to Draco and discretely knocks their knees together under the table. 

”How was lunch?” Draco asks in a carefully neutral voice. 

”It was good”, Harry says and nods. ”They said to say hi… to everyone”, he adds and looks across the table at his friends who smirk back knowingly. 

It’s true. His dads hadn’t said to say hi to any of them, but they hadn’t exactly said to say hi to Draco either, technically… Remus had actually told him to send Draco their love, but Harry wasn’t going to do anything of the sort, not in the Three Broomsticks, and definitely not in front of Pansy…

”Do I have time for a butterbeer?” he asks. 

”Yeah, we have about half an hour”, Blaise says. 

”Anyone else?” Harry asks as he stands back up again, but the boys all shake their heads indicating their nearly full tankards. ”Daphne, Pans?”

A sudden stillness spreads over the small company and the boys around the table exchange subtle but slightly incredulous looks, while Harry watches the two girls with a stubborn calm. They both turn their heads towards him slowly and stare back silently. He raises his eyebrows expectantly. 

”No, thank you”, Pansy says coolly, after a beat, but a thoughtful look settles on her face as she gives Harry a once-over. 

”No, thanks”, Daphne says as well.

Harry nods. 

”Everyone help yourself to a bun”, he says nodding to the bundle he’s left on the table, before making his way over to the bar. 

He orders a tankard of butterbeer from Madam Rosmerta and smiles thinly when the older witch flirts with him shamelessly, much to the amusement of a rather tipsy wizard slouched over the bar. 

When he comes back to the booth, the atmosphere has lifted again and everyone is chatting amicably, even the girls, and when Harry slides into the seat next to Draco, the blonde’s hand sneaks onto his thigh and gives him a gentle squeeze. 

They linger in the pub until the very last minute, dreading going back out into the cold. But finally, they file outside and begin the long trek back to the castle.

”Harry! Hey, Harry!”

Looking over his shoulder, Harry is surprised to see Cedric Diggory waving at him from a few yards away and stops to wait for the older boy to catch up. The other Slytherins mumble something about seeing him in the Common Room and continue to walk up the steps to front doors, but Draco stays behind with Harry. 

”Hey, Harry…” Diggory says again as he reaches them. 

”Hey”, Harry says warily. 

”Listen, I’ve been meaning to talk to you… I feel really bad about not tipping you off about that egg, you know after you told me about the dragons…”

”Oh. Don’t worry about it, I wanted to work it out on my own anyway, so…”

Diggory gives him a knowing look then and nods, ”It’s this tournament, it does something to you, doesn’t it? Makes you want to prove yourself somehow…”

”Yeah”, Harry mumbles, shifting awkwardly. 

He’s just about to make an excuse so that he and Draco can leave, when the Hufflepuff leans in conspiratorially and says, ”It’s been a real help for me, actually… before the Goblet of Fire chose me, I was always perceived as, you know… well… a pretty boy, basically — which is fine, you know, I’ll take it as a compliment — but it’s also a bit… emasculating, you know what I mean?”

”Er…”

”Draco knows”, Diggory adds with a wink in the blonde’s direction. 

”What?” Harry says.

”We’re late for detention”, Draco quickly and before Harry has managed to get another word out, he’s being pulled away insistently by the blonde and Diggory is waving after them. 

”What… what was that about?” Harry hisses, as they begin the descent down the spiral staircase to the dungeons. ”Did he just… did he just call you pretty?”

”No!” Draco says haughtily and huffs. 

”What do you mean no—?”

”Pretty boy”, Draco corrects drily, and then sniffs in his best Narcissa impression, but there’s no hiding the blush in his cheeks and for some reason it makes Harry angrier that the blonde would try to appear unbothered by it, when he so clearly isn’t…

”Well, isn’t that precious”, he snaps. ”You pretty boys have a club or something?”

”Don’t be ridiculous”, Draco mutters. 

As soon as they step off the staircase, he interweaves their fingers together and Harry loses his train of thought for a minute and by the time he remembers why he was angry in the first place, it doesn’t seem like such a big deal anymore, because they’ve reached the Common Room and Draco has pulled him over to a free love seat in front of the fire and promptly leans in to nuzzle the side of his face as soon as he’s sat down. 

Later that night, Harry starts flicking through the book Remus gave him. It turns out to be very detailed and not only that, it comes with moving illustrations… the first chapter, which is on something called hand-jobs, brings back very happy memories, but as Harry keeps flicking the pages to the next chapter — titled oral sex: there are many ways to kiss — the illustrations make him too embarrassed and he quickly snaps the book shut again and hides it in his trunk. 

But even with the book safely hidden away, the image of the two hand-drawn wizards keeps playing in his head and he can’t stop himself from imagining what it would be like to do something like that to Draco… or what it would feel like if Draco did it to him… turning his head and pressing his face into his pillow, Harry muffles the groan that escapes him. An all too familiar pulsing warmth has gathered in his sternum and his cock swells eagerly. 

Sitting up quickly, Harry peaks out of the bed hangings to make sure Draco is asleep in the other bed, before casting a quick Silencing Charm on his own bed and taking himself in hand. As he relaxes back against his pillow, his shuts his eyes and recalls the feeling of Draco’s long and slender fingers wrapped around him, squeezing him hard and pumping him with sure movements… Speeding up his own movements to match the pace of the memory, Harry feels the familiar pressure of pleasure as it builds…

The illustration from the book flashes through his mind and he groans again as the wizard bent over the crotch of the other wizard morphs into a familiar angular face, white-blonde hair falling into glittering grey eyes… and then suddenly he’s inside the drawing, except it’s not a drawing at all, it’s the memory again, except not really… his mind has taken the memory and twisted it to fantasy; he’s sprawled out on his bed, propped up on his elbows and staring down at Draco… marvelling at his flushed cheeks as they hollow and his obscenely red lips as they stretch around him —

Face twisting involuntarily, Harry lets out a gasp as his orgasm ripples through him. Then as the last wave of pleasure leaves his body, Harry goes limp as he catches his breath. 

Holding his hand up idly, he examines the evidence of what he’s just done as it cools on his skin… wonder what you do with this stuff when you’re doing that oral thing, he thinks and makes a mental note to check what the book says about it, at some point, before he attempts to try this with Draco for real. 

Fumbling for his wand, Harry Vanishes the semen from his hand before lifting the Silencing Charm and crawling under the covers and falling into a dreamless sleep. 

The fantasy is still fresh in his mind when he wakes up the next morning, and even if it wasn’t, sitting across from Draco at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall would surely have reminded him… Harry can’t help but to stare as the blonde helps himself to a bowl of plain yogurt and then proceeds to finish said bowl one half-spoon at a time, more or less licking the white creamy substance from the golden spoon… and then getting a drop of yogurt on the side of his mouth… within minutes, Harry is embarrassingly hard under his robes and can only blush and blink when Draco gives him a funny look.

”What, do I have something on my face?” 

”Erm — y-yeah, you have some — ehm, r-right here”, Harry mumbles and points to the side of his own mouth, then stares as Draco’s tongue sneaks out and licks the drop of yogurt from the side of his lower lip. 

”Did I get it?”

”Huh?” Harry says dumbly, blinking owlishly. 

”Are you all right?” Draco frowns.

”Uh-huh, yep, good”, Harry says and nods furiously. ”Great, actually.”

Draco doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t press the matter which Harry is grateful for… and something else he’s extremely grateful for, and that he’s never really appreciated before now, is how thick and heavy their school robes are (enough to successfully hide any inconvenient hard-ons you might get, apparently!) which really is fortunate, since Harry’s erection persists all through breakfast and doesn’t really wilt until the heavy incense in the Divinations classroom hits him. 

He makes a beeline for a chintz armchair and sinks into the seat, letting Professor Trelawny’s misty voice wash over him… as long as he doesn’t actually fall asleep, Harry doesn’t really have to pay attention in Divination anymore. He can just let his mind wander freely and still get top marks, since Trelawny has begun to view the faraway look in his eyes as a sign that he’s contemplating his own dark destiny and coming to terms with it… Draco keeps shooting him unimpressed looks, but Harry doesn’t care. 

Draco must be the only student who doesn’t believe in Divination and still cares about doing the work… he’s definitely the only Slytherin listening to Trelawny with a politely avid look on his face now, as the woman begins to talk about the larger schemes of the universe. 

Not even Granger cares about Divination, Harry thinks. The girl famously dropped the subject last year. According to the rumours, she called Trelawny a miserable bat and then threw a crystal ball on her foot before storming out of the classroom… it does sound a bit far-fetched, Harry thinks. But no smoke without a fire. 

As if the unusual detour of his thoughts veering towards the Gryffindor bookworm has somehow summoned her, none other than Hermione Granger approaches Harry when he and his friends are studying in the library later that afternoon. He’s so thrown off when she stops next to him that he can only blink up at her stupidly when she begins to speak passionately and quickly about Rita Skeeter and her articles, without so much as an hello first, her hair seemingly getting frizzier and frizzier with every impassioned word. 

”I mean, it’s just vile!” she says harshly. ”What she wrote about you showing signs of a pathological co-dependency that a child could only develop under the most extreme emotional living conditions, I mean even if you did show signs of anything of the sort, the claims that it would be the result of growing up feeling scared all the time is completely unfounded, there is literally no evidence based on any respectable research that supports such claims — I’ve checked — and to publish it like that, like it’s the truth, it’s not only irresponsible, it’s down-right hateful!”

The girl finally stops to breathe. Harry opens his mouth to say something, but comes up with nothing. So he snaps his mouth shut again.

”Anyway…” Granger says with a frustrated huff. ”I just wanted to say that. And offer my sympathies. And let you know that not everyone thinks like that horrid woman!”

”Er… thanks”, Harry says awkwardly. 

He feels genuinely grateful for the girl’s gesture, but he’s also keenly aware of the sets of suspicious glares on all sides of him, none as fierce as Draco’s… 

”You’re welcome”, Granger says. ”Professor Lupin is one of the best teachers we’ve ever had and it’s just… just awful that he can’t teach because of… of idiotic prejudice like that woman is spreading!”

”Ehm, yeah…”

”Sorry, I’ll let you get back to your studies… I just read that article in the Prophet this morning and I just had to say something!”

”There was another article?” Harry says, feeling himself grow heavier at the idea, especially knowing that his dads will probably get another handful of hateful letter soon, if that’s the case. 

”Oh, it was just more of the same tripe”, Granger says with a sniff. ”Don’t read it, it will just upset you… Anyway, I’ll see you around Harry…”

”What the hell…” Draco whispers as soon as she’s walked away. ”What was that about…?”

”I dunno”, Harry mumbles. ”But I’ll take it.”

”What do you mean you’ll take it?”

”Let’s just say I’m glad to hear there are some people who don’t believe everything Rita Skeeter writes in that blasted newspaper… apparently, my dads have been getting… well, hate mail, basically… my daddy’s even been getting death threats.”

”You’re joking”, Seamus mutters, looking uncomfortable at such a serious subject matter. ”What, for real?”

”Yeah”, Harry says dully. ”All thanks to that Skeeter woman…”

”Hey, anyone else curious about where she’s getting her information?” Blaise says. ”Dumbledore banned her from Hogwarts ages ago and yet she keeps printing stories. I mean, it’s all pretty much the same but it’s always sprinkled with new details… where is she getting those from, if she can’t come onto the grounds anymore?”

”Probably just makes it up”, Harry says and shrugs. 

”Maybe…” Blaise says, but he looks unconvinced. 

Harry looks over at Draco — the blonde has been unusually quiet for a while — and catches him glaring over at Granger who is now sitting with Ron and Longbottom at the other end of the library.

”She was just being nice, will you let it go…” he says in exasperation. 

”I don’t trust her”, Draco mutters immediately. 

”I want to know how she managed to get Krum to ask her out”, Pansy says in the same tone of voice. ”Think she slipped him a love potion?”

”Undoubtedly”, Draco says swiftly. ”She’s not stupid enough to use an Unforgivable —”

”Seriously”, Harry mutters, shaking his head. ”She’s not that bad…”

Draco and Pansy immediately whip their heads around and glare at him. He rolls his eyes. 

”No-one else has come up to me to offer their sympathy”, he says, turning to Pansy and mirroring her glare. ”You haven’t even said anything about it.”

”Of course I haven’t”, the girl says haughtily. ”I wasn’t speaking to you at all until about two seconds ago.”

”Yeah, well, I think it was nice of Granger to say something…”

Draco and Pansy turn to glare suspiciously at the Gryffindors again. Recognising a lost cause when he sees one, Harry just shakes his head and turns back to his essay on goblin rebellions.

”Definitely a love potion, look at him…” Pansy mutters. 

Harry glances up and follows the girl’s line of sight. Krum is slouched at the end of the Legal Section, throwing surreptitious looks over at the table where Granger is studying with Ron and Longbottom, apparently oblivious to the small herd of giggling girls lounging half a bookcase away from him. 

”I’m surprised it’s not bigger news, I mean look at her”, Pansy continues in a low, excited murmur. ”She’s ugly. Surely people must suspect something!”

Draco hums in agreement. 

Harry frowns and looks over at the Gryffindors. He doesn’t think the girl is that unattractive. Granted, her front teeth are on the larger side and that hair… But he wouldn’t go as far as calling her ugly. She’d been quite pretty at the Yule Ball… 

As one of the mob of girls hanging around Krum lets out a particularly loud giggle, Granger looks up and huffs angrily. She says something to the other Gryffindors and they all gather up their books. 

”Sad…” Pansy murmurs.

Harry glances over at Krum and catches the forlorn look on the boy’s face, as he watches the Gryffindors leave. 

”Pathetic”, Draco agrees.

Suddenly Krum looks over and catches Harry staring, and Harry feels his cheeks heat up. He quickly ducks his head and pulls his essay a little closer, skimming over what he’s written so far but not really registering the words at all. 

”Excuse me…”

Harry startles and looks up again in surprise. Krum is looming over him, looking surlier than ever. 

”Hey…” Harry says. ”What… what can I do for you?”

”Can ve talk? In private?” 

Harry swallows and quickly glances at his friends. They look as shocked as he himself feels. 

”Er… yeah, sure, I guess…” Harry says, awkwardly pushing his chair back from the table and standing. 

Krum leads him over to a secluded corner of the library, except the horde of girls trail after them and Harry is uncomfortably aware of their curious eyes as Krum drags him further into the shadows of the Beasts Section. 

”I saw you vit Hermy-own-ninny”, the older boy says finally, his brow furrowing further as he watches Harry’s face intently.

”Who?” Harry says.

”Hermy-own-ninny, I saw her talk to you…”

”Oh! Granger — yeah, she — yeah”, Harry nods. ”Why?”

”I vas vondering if you could maybe give me some ideas for vot I can do to get her to see how much I like her… ”

Harry stares. Krum is asking him for love advice? About Granger? Maybe the girl has slipped him some love potion after all…

”Ve have good times together in the library and valking round the grounds”, the Durmstrang boy continues. ”But I don’t know if she likes me like friend or more… vot do you think?”

”Ehm… I… I really couldn’t tell you”, Harry says honestly. 

”You are friends vit her, no?”

”Oh! No! No no no, we’re not — I mean! — we’re on friendly terms, but we’re not friends… honestly, I barely know her at all…” 

Krum looks simultaneously relieved and disappointed at this, but nods seriously and thanks Harry for his time. Then turns away and begins to slouch away again.

”Hey, wait”, Harry says quickly. ”You can sit with me and my friends… if you want, that is…”

”Are you sure?” Krum says quietly. ”I do not vish to impose…”

”Oh, no, you wouldn’t be imposing!” Harry says and smiles. ”I eh… I’m actually a big fan… I didn’t want to say before, because, well… I guess you must get sick of hearing it? Anyway, I was at the World Cup and you were amazing… that Wronksi Feint…”

”Thank you”, Krum says. ”I vas vatching you fly at the first task, you are also very good…”

”Oh… Thanks…” Harry says, blushing slightly. ”I’m nowhere near as good as you, but I do love to fly… I was actually hoping to get back on my House Team this year, before I knew about the tournament… I was a Seeker in Second Year, but then I got banned from Quidditch for a year…”

”You got banned from quidditch?” Krum says incredulously. 

”Yeah, my Head of House, Professor Snape, banned me as punishment for… well, for breaking the rules too many times basically…”

”That is extreme… at Durmstrang we get detention and the labour is very taxing, but Professor Karkaroff vould never take quidditch away from us!”

”Yeah well, the detentions weren’t working on me, so…” Harry mutters wryly, aware that he’s sounding just like the rebel Rita Skeeter likes to portray him as. ”Anyway, I could have been expelled, so I’m okay with a one year quidditch ban…”

They walk back out of the Beasts Section and join Harry’s friends. Krum grabs a free chair from the table next to theirs and squeezes in between Harry and Seamus, then spends the better part of an hour getting questioned by Pansy and Draco without ever even realising it because the two Slytherins are so subtle about it that, unless you know them very well, like Harry does, it just sounds like idle chit-chat and polite small talk. Smirking, Harry sits back and watches the two of them with a fond exasperation. 

Draco glances over and meets his gaze suddenly and Harry’s smirk widens.

What, Draco mouths and squints at him. 

But Harry just shakes his head again.