Confession ?
The smoky mist was wetting his cheeks, muddling the surrounding air. You couldn’t see the next person a few metres away, hidden behind layers of cloudy spirals. All around, the muffled noise of newcomers, their joyous chatter and the rolling sound of overused wheels was reverberating in the background.
Biting his cheeks, he couldn’t stop walking back and forth along the platform, wringing his hands in disarray. Where was he?
“Harry, for the love of God, please stop pacing around, you’re giving me a headache!” Hermione’s voice slammed, making him turn around once again. She was sitting on a green bench, limbs carefully folded, as she scrutinised her frantic friend, frowning. Her face was barely visible, concealed by a thick white scarf.
“S’rry” The worried boy replied, swallowing his words in impatience. He finally halted in his steps, drawing a relieved sigh from the witch.
“Where did your mom go, Ron?” She asked the other boy standing near them, lost in his own contemplation of the crowd.
The redhead shrugged, scrunching up his nose at the foul odour coming from the rails. “Who knows? Probably sniffling some gossip with the other moms.”
He left his observation post and settled next to Hermione, spreading his legs. The three of them were waiting for the Poudlard Express to arrive, the Christmas holiday having unfortunately come to an end. And what a good holiday it had been! So much merriment, smiling faces and teary eyes. A blissful and well-deserved interlude for the stressed out students. The Weasley family and its two adoptive children had reunited, resourced together, thanking whatever god there was out there for this moment, for the life they had and awaited them.
Of course, Harry had spent a good portion of this time thinking about one specific boy, wondering what he was doing, if he was enjoying the celebrations, surrounded by loving people and the warmth of a welcoming home. It had become a habit by now, the lingering idea of Theo engraved in his brain, always on his mind. He didn’t mind though, loved it even, especially when it brought the familiar fluttery sensation in his stomach each time he pictured those shining blue eyes.
His smitten smile hadn’t escaped the watchful gaze of Mrs Weasley, who had pressed him with elated questions. Oh, she had thought, how her children were all grown up now! The love gleaming in his eyes, flooding and opening his face… It was a sweet sight, one that reassured the caring woman as for the future. She had some concerns about them, too soon burdened adults and hardly even clueless teenagers, scarred by a war they shouldn’t have had to fight. But it seemed healing had taken its roots, manifesting in each of them differently. A sweet view indeed…
“Merlin, we could have come much later! Why did you wake me up so early?” Ron complained, yawning. His freckled face was hollowed by fatigue, the result of late nights fun prolonging in early mornings.
“Because I wanted to.” Hermione smirked behind her scarf.
“You’re an awful human being.” Ron groaned. Lucky for him, the brightness of the day was tainted by the clouds, or he wouldn’t have survived. It was worse than a hangover (well, maybe there had been some drinking during the holidays).
“Obviously.”
“Pff! I can’t wait for Draco to arrive, you’ll finally get off my back…”
Hermione gaped at him, her face reddening. “Why would I?”
It was Ron’s turn to smirk, examining her flustered expression. “Oh, don’t play coy, Mione, it doesn’t suit you.” He pointed out maliciously, crossing his arms.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She denied, averting her eyes. Honestly, what was he inventing now?
“Really? Weird for someone who prides herself on being so self-aware, don’t you think so Harry?” No response. Ron pivoted, tilting his head as he watched his best friend still immersed in a silent but frenetic walk along the platform. It was a bit concerning. “Mate, she’s got a point, stop pacing, you’re digging trenches at this point.”
Harry sighed, slowing down. He ran an anxious hand through his tangled hair. “Theo’s late. I’m just worried.”
Which was an understatement. And everyone could clearly see it, with how panicked he looked, his overall state totally dishevelled.
“It’s true, he’s always the early one.” Hermione remarked, her face becoming preoccupied. “I hope nothing happened to him.”
Immediately, Harry jolted and stared at her, eyes and mouth wide. “Crap, do you think something happened??”
“Hermione, you’re just making it worse!” Ron grunted, scowling at her. They didn’t need a Harry on the verge of a mental breakdown right now. “Harry, look at me. Nothing happened. Theo is late because he’s likely saying goodbye to his best friend with whom he spent the last two weeks, after being apart for months. You can understand the heartfelt lateness, can you?”
Nodding slowly, the anxious boy finally exhaled a long breath, his shoulders slumping. “Yes, of course, yes. You’re right, thank you.”
“Always, mate.”
Was he being too much? Was his worry justified? Harry winced internally. He had never questioned the extent or the intensity of his intentions before. Was it normal behaviour? Well, it’s not like he was really normal anyway… And if the principal subject of his concern wasn’t witnessing it firsthand, maybe he shouldn’t care all that much. His friends had seen him in worse states too.
“And you, don’t think I forgot that you innocently changed the subject!” Ron carried on, pointing his finger at Hermione, who was still sitting and shivering on the cold bench.
“You’re imagining things, Ronald.” She retorted dryly, her tone firmly indicating the end of the conversation.
However, Ron wasn’t known for his restraint or thoughtfulness. “Oh really? How about Draco’s…”
“What about me?”
The teenagers jumped in surprise at the sudden voice. Unbeknownst to them, Draco had sneakily approached their little group and was now waiting for an answer with furrowed brows and crossed arms. Add a grim face and a tapping foot, he was the perfect picture of his godfather!
“Drac! You’re here, terrific!” Ron claimed, beaming. “Did you know that Hermione has…tmmr…swwtt..” The rest of his sentence was suppressed by a forceful hand gripping his mouth tightly.
Hermione smiled sweetly at the blond, tightening menacingly her hold on her friend, as he tried to escape, wiggling his arms helplessly. “Nothing. Hermione has nothing.”
Bemused, Draco stared at the pair, wondering if their sanity had somehow vanished during the holidays (well, Hermione’s, because Ron never had one). “Alright…” He drawled, used to their strangeness at this point. Glancing around, he frowned nonetheless. “Where is Theo?”
“Late.” Harry muttered through gritted teeth, standing next to him. Even if he had stopped wearing out the ground, his left leg was bouncing up and down crazily. Talk about calming down…
“Hmm, definitely because of Blaise. Anyway, how was your Christmas?” He asked the brunet, bringing his suitcase closer. The black shiny luggage was an evidence of the Malfoy’s wealth with its elegant design and undoubtedly expensive leather. Harry wondered how much it costed…
“I survived.” He eventually answered, smiling. “You?”
“The country was uneventful, just like I hoped.”
“No crazy stalkers or incensed vengeful wizards?” Seeing the amused shake of the blond’s head, Harry faked a disenchanted expression. “How disappointing.”
They snorted, the huff of their breath creating little clouds of mist. A shrilling bell resonated not far from them, signifying to the eager students the train’s arrival. A joyous clamour aroused in response.
Ron, who had seemingly managed to flee the threatening grip, promptly stood up and put an arm on Draco’s shoulders. “I’m glad you’re back. Now, I can use you as my shield against that scary witch!”
“You really know how to compliment women, don’t you Ron?” Hermione scoffed, rising from the bench herself.
“Lovely to know I’m simply a protective object to you. You really know how to compliment a guy.”
“See! That’s what I’m talking about!” The redhead shouted, gesturing towards the two of them and wiggling his eyebrows to Harry, as if the raven-haired boy was a judge he had just shown the ultimate proof to, in order to win a life-altering trial. Proof for what, we’ll let you guess…
“Huh?” Draco stared, disconcerted, while Hermione’s cheeks flushed. She hid behind Harry, praying softly for him to help her.
As his saviour complex was triggered, the athletic boy couldn’t possibly leave the witch at the mercy of Ron’s implacable words, even if they were uttered in the truest form. Harry turned to the blond and waved his hand in a dismissive movement. “Don’t mind him, he’s a little empty up there.”
“HEY!”
“Why is my son shouting noisily and making everyone’s heads turn?” Mrs Weasley’s stern voice enquired, making the four teenagers spin around at the same time. She peered at them, one eyebrow arched, hands on her hips. Despite her short stature and affable attire, she could be really terrifying when she wanted to.
Ron squirmed, smiling bashfully. The tip of his ears was already reddening (in fear or discomfort, an unresolved dilemma). “Hrm, nothing mum, nothing.” He shrieked quickly, stepping back in a preventive measure. It was rather funny to see an equally tall and burly guy like Ron, shrivelling under the piercing gaze of a presumably small and inoffensive woman.
Mrs Weasley looked him up and down, unimpressed. “So you’re deafening us for no reason at all then?”
The three other young wizards stifled a laugh, enjoying the spectacle. Ron glared at them and attempted to protest, in vain. “It’s Harry! He’s…”
“Harry, my dear,” His mother interrupted him unapologetically. “Did you take the chocolate cake I left for you in the kitchen?” She asked him, smiling widely and inspecting his clothes.
The brunet straightened up instantly, his face brightening. “Of course, Mrs Weasley, I wouldn’t have forgotten it!”
“Excellent!” She magically tidied him up and moved on to the short witch with bushy hair. “And you Hermione, did you pack the new clothes I knitted you?”
“Yes, Mrs Wealsey. Thank you so much, they’re in my favourite colour!” She nodded gratefully, caressing the scarf around her neck.
A half confused, half offended cry resounded in their vicinity. “Wait a minute, why does everyone else except me have a goodbye gift?” Ron questioned, pouting, while his traitorous friends snickered under their breath. His mother paid him no mind as she moved on to the last person.
“Shush, Ron. Draco Malfoy? Can I call you Draco?” Molly asked, but carried on without even waiting for an answer from the gaping boy. “I heard you like Darjeeling tea in the mornings. Here are some as a Christmas present, I hope you’ll enjoy it! Hum, now that I look at you, perhaps I should have added some chocolate cake too. Darling, are you sure you’re eating enough? It’s very important to be in good health to have good grades!”
Draco was simply speechless at the whirlwind that was Mrs Weasley and her motherly affection. He opened and closed his mouth, thoroughly astonished. “Hum… I… thank you?” He stuttered, his usual placid and confident demeanour pulverised. Harry, ever so considerate, patted him reassuringly on the arm. Yes, it could be… a lot.
However, Mrs Weasly had already turned her attention elsewhere. “And where is that sweet boy I heard so much about? The one Harry fancies?”
“Molly!” The poor boy cried out, flushing brightly. Fuck, he shouldn’t have said anything, now he deeply regretted it. Harry supposed it was how mothers embarrassed their child in front of their friends and crushes. Lucky him, the latter wasn’t there…
“Theo’s not here yet. His family is probably holding him hostage.” Draco provided kindly, regaining the use of his talking abilities. “In a good way of course!” He quickly added upon the woman’s horrified expression.
She slowly nodded, still hesitant. “Oh, well, you’ll give him this present from me.” Mrs Wealsey handed the wrapped square object to Harry with a knowing grin. “Now, come here, all of you! Let me hug you one last time before you go back.” She crushed them in a big and tight hug, eyes already wet. Releasing the groaning teenagers, she wiped her cheeks in one swift movement and schooled her features in a more severe air.
“Ronald, behave properly! Hermione, please keep an eye on him. You’re the only one who’s somehow able to contain him. Otherwise, stay exceptional as always. As for you two, try to eat a bit more and avoid murderous people, alright?”
The four wizards nodded obediently at the wise words, which seemed to satisfy the woman enough, as she said her last goodbye, before leaving them muttering something along the lines of Ginny , stubborn and cursing . It didn’t smell good for the young witch…
Staring at the fleeting form, his gift preciously in hand, Draco hesitated. “Your mother is…”
“Overbearing, never stop talking, bordering on the threatening?”
The blond smiled, unsure. “I would have said maternal, but if you want to go with that, then go with it.” He wasn’t used to that amount of affection, overtly displayed and graciously given. But it was… nice.
“You get used to it at some point. You even learn to appreciate and miss it.” Harry stated, his face soft and full of fondness. Ron clutched his arm, the same expression mirrored.
Hermione smiled tenderly at the scene, herself feeling a certain warmth invading her. Molly Weasley was undeniably one of the best people she knew. Her love for her children was unrivalled, and she felt lucky to be counted as one. Glancing around, Hermione came back to the present, noticing the hoard of students embarking hurriedly on the train. “Guys, we should get on. It’s almost time.”
“Theo is still not here.” Harry protested, his concern arising again. He shot multiple looks at their surroundings, searching for the curly mop of hair he adored (and dreamt to touch). Perhaps, the Slytherin had arrived on the platform but didn’t find them.
“Don’t worry, he’ll come soon enough.” Draco assured him, ready to board.
“You know he’s not the type to skip school.” Ron added jokingly, then promptly casted Wingardium Leviosa on their luggages.
“I know, but…”
“Guys, come on! We can wait for Theo from inside the train. Hurry up or there won’t be any compartment left!” Hermione called out for them, already climbing the train’s steps.
There weren't many students left on the platform, now cleared by the bright light of the sun, piercing through the clouds. The three boys followed the witch, Harry a bit reluctant, his head fixated on the red brick wall. Bloody hell, what was he doing? The train was going to leave without him! And from past experience, it wasn’t a pretty sight.
Currently alone at the door, Harry was gripping tightly the frame, anxiety reaching its height, tensing his muscles and clenching his jaw. His knuckles were turning white, as was his face. The horrible sound of a bell resonated faintly in the background. Oh no… Fuck, fuck, fuck! Panicked, Harry almost jumped out of the train, only stopping when he discerned the vague shape of a human being appearing in the distance. Theo? Was it him? The form seemed to note that the train was on its leave, because it began running, suitcase floating behind. Getting nearer and nearer, Harry received his confirmation: it was indeed Theo chasing the train, his pretty face flushed by the effort.
“Theo! Here!” He yelled, making big gestures towards the rushing form. “THEO!”
Theo was running but the train had already gained in speed, the wheels clinking wickedly. Almost tripping, the boy finally reached the door, hastily taking the stretched out hand. Harry, using all the strength he had gained thanks to the hours of Quidditch training, yanked him urgently inside the moving train, quickly encircling Theo’s waist to prevent any fall. Then, he shut the door and leaned against it, the smaller boy pulled to his chest. He finally exhaled a shaky breath, his heart pounding wildly. He could feel Theo panting, limbs shaking after such a race.
Holy fuck!
“Merlin’s beard!” Harry whispered, his tone quivery. That was the most staggering thing he had experienced in a while. His mind was completely empty of any thoughts, except that Theo was safe now. That brought a sense of peace to his still strained and stiff spine.
“You alright?” He murmured to the trembling body, tightening his hold in comfort.
A faint affirmative noise answered him. He begrudgingly released his embrace to let the poor boy breathe. Theo took a step back, one hand on his hammering heart and the other over his mouth. He looked utterly stunned, his face still flushed, blue eyes wide and dark curls in complete disarray. Still beautiful though.
“Here, let me take your luggage.” Harry gently said, as he smiled reassuringly. Theo seemed paralysed by shock. Nonetheless, the movement stirred the silent boy from the apparent stillness, as he blinked rapidly, letting out incoherent words.
“Thanks.” He finally managed to articulate at his saviour’s intention, his voice hoarse and raw.
He definitely wouldn’t have got on that fucking train if Harry hadn’t been there, hauling him inside. Collecting himself and regaining a more normal respiration, Theo finally calmed down. He was never saying goodbye to Blaise again. That bastard had taken his sweet time on purpose!
“Come on, Ron, Hermione and Draco have already selected a compartment.” Harry told him, leading them along the aisle.
Theo followed him trough the train's corridor, mortified. Of course, it had to be Harry saving him from his impending doom. Was he destined to embarrass himself in front of him every time? The degree of shame was only getting stronger considering the feelings he harboured for the valiant boy ahead of him. Theo blushed even more, remembering the hands on his waist and the taut chest against his face. Lost in the (very pleasing) memory, he didn’t notice they had entered their compartment, only startled out of his mind by the loud cry of his name, shouted loudly by three distinct voices.
“Finally!” Hermione exclaimed, relief painted on her face. “We were a bit concerned at your absence. Is everything alright?” She asked, frowning.
She was sitting by the window, Ron laying next to her, his head resting on her lap. Opposite to them was Draco, his pale face and squinting eyes carefully examining Theo's frame, in search of any injury.
“Everything is fine, Mione. Sorry for worrying you.” He quickly assured her, settling down next to the blond, who immediately grabbed his arm. “Blaise wasn’t the most… willing person, but I managed to escape.”
Ron snorted. “I knew you had it in you, mate! I always trusted you.” He winked at Theo, making him smile.
Sitting down next to the grinning boy, their thighs pressed together (both to their utmost delight), Harry frowned at his best friend, disapproving. “You didn’t bet on it, did you?”
“Honestly, there was nothing to bet on.” The redhead lazily shrugged. “We knew he would get on somehow. It was only you who was getting all worked up.”
“I wasn’t…” He glared at him, while the others (bar the oblivious boy of course) stared, unimpressed. “Okay, just shut up.” Harry grumbled. At least, he had helped Theo get on. And he could still feel the warm pressure against his chest, the tingly and shaky breath right on his collarbone… Something to remember for sure!
Changing the subject, Hermione turned to the newcomer. “How was your holiday, Theo?”
“Amazing! It was nice to finally see Blaise and his mother. And you?”
“Lovely! Mrs Weasley’s cooking is always delicious. And it was great to see the family in its entirety again.”
The warm thigh against his own pressed closer, as Harry stretched out his limbs, sighing in contentment. It was twice bigger than his own, Theo noticed absent-mindedly, bewitched. The tight and firm muscle was contracting, enhanced by the close-fitting fabric of the blue jeans. It was a captivating view, he concluded while contemplating the tightening thigh, wondering how he had never paid attention to it before.
“G-good.” He eventually stuttered in response to Hermione, his throat suddenly dry. He was feeling very hot. Very very hot. A burning blush crept up on his cheeks. “I have to go to the toilets.” He murmured, abruptly getting up and leaving the compartment hurriedly, under his friends’ perplexed gaze.
Rushing along the aisle, muttering half apologies to the students he involuntarily bumped into, Theo finally stopped his race when he found himself in a silent and empty part of the train. Well, at least he had done his sport for the day! Groaning, he let himself slump on the floor, his head bumping with the partition in despair. What was wrong with him? Was he really getting horny because of a thigh? Alright, a very attractive and muscular thigh, but even so! Oh fucking hell, he wasn’t going to survive the rest of the year.
It seemed his desire had only increased now that he knew he loved Harry, which was… disturbing? How could someone function properly, if they were always entirely distracted by every portion of someone else’s being? It was a fucking problem, an obstacle, a weakness, a damn handicap ! And no, he wasn’t being dramatic, just realistic. He, a very sane person, was going to fall into true madness, if it carried on like that.
“Theo?”
Whirling his head around too quickly, the miserable boy smashed it against the wall. Wincing in pain and cursing, Theo fluttered his eyes open and managed to catch Draco’s concerned face. It appeared to have become his new normal features when it came to Theo… Was he really that much worrying?
“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He mumbled, his fingers brushing the tender ache at the back of his skull. Tomorrow, he would probably wake up with a well-deserved lump. Great…
Draco was assessing him with his piercing grey eyes, like he was the object of a very interesting experiment. Theo attempted an innocent smile, maybe in an effort to soften him and avoid unwanted questions. That didn’t work, obviously.
“Enough with the fake smile, it doesn’t suit you. It looks more like a grimace than anything…” The blond stated, his voice and stare unyielding. What a nice compliment. “What’s going on, Theo? Did something happen at Blaise’s?”
The genuine concern shattering his face was what prevented the embarrassed boy from lying. He couldn’t do it, he realised as he swallowed with difficulty. He didn't know what was worse : the unwavering stare or the worried eyes ? Inhaling deeply, Theo resorted to tell the truth. Be sincere for once, share what troubled him with his close friend.
“Well… you could say that.” He murmured, almost inaudibly.
“So?” Draco echoed, settling himself next to the quiet boy. He sensed it was going to be a long and draining discussion. “Should I be worried? Genuinely, this time.”
“No, no, of course not. It’s more of a me-problem?” Theo hesitated on the last word. It was, wasn’t it?
“You do know it sounds more like a question and not an affirmation. Doesn’t really reassure me.”
“I realised something.” Theo whispered, the solemnity of his own words ringing to his ears. “Something big.” Draco raised his eyebrows, inquisitive. “Live-changing, even.”
“Don't keep me waiting then, I already have high blood pressure.”
Okay, he could do it. It was a simple sentence, only a few words. Not something to be scared of, right? It wasn’t like saying it was going to change anything or provoke somehow the end of the world. Six words, seven syllables, twenty-eight letters.
“I am in love with Harry.”
He shut off his eyes instantly, in childish fear or sincere apprehension, he didn’t know. It sounded too real, saying it out loud like that. Maybe he had already whispered the crucial words at night, when only Blaise’s breathing could be heard, plunged in total darkness. It had sounded like an incantation then, strange words from another world surprising his ears. Not in a bad way, simply unknown, barely credible. Now, it tasted real on his tongue.
“No kidding…” Draco’s voice drawled, his favourite weapon, irony, pouring through the words.
That made Theo open his eyes right away, confusion displayed on his face. “What? You- you’re not surprised?” He asked, incredulous, barely understanding the present situation.
“Not in the least.” The graceful boy confirmed with a wry smile. But seeing the tremendous effort it had taken from Theo to reveal this part of himself, he pulled him in a tight hug. He patted the shoulder blades comfortingly, wanting to communicate his pride and happiness to his friend.
“But, how? Why?” Theo babbled, still stuck, as he was released from the embrace. He looked baffled, ridiculously gawking at Draco.
“I know you pretty well despite your I’m-a-wall-and-I-don’t-feel-anything attitude. Sometimes, and precisely in your case, the body knows before the mind does and it shows. Maybe you’re a tad more discreet, but I could tell with the way you were looking at him. And let’s not mention the blushing : I have never seen you so red before!”
Accurately on point, the entire speech caused rosy cheeks, his neck feeling suddenly extremely hot. Again. “Okay, okay, let’s just drop the subject! Stop talking. Please.” Theo begged his friend, letting his face fall into his hands. Was he really that transparent? Did everyone pick up on his feelings? Shit, did Harry ? No, no, no! He would have said something, right? He wouldn’t have let him sink into his own foolishness, he was too kind for that. Groaning in despair, Theo cursed himself and the whole being-human-and-having-feelings deal.
“You brought it up.” An unhelpful Draco commented, divided between teasing Theo’s misery and reassuring him.
“I was sharing a big realisation with a friend!”
“And I thank you for trusting me.” He slyly replied, smirking. Teasing, it was!
Straightening up, Theo glared daggers at him, praying to the universe that the blond would be struck by lightning on the spot. Prat!
“I can’t get over it. It’s like everybody knew it before me.” He voiced, still unbelieving. He had a vacant look, lost in his mind, mulling over every possible interaction that could have betrayed him.
“You’re a bit oblivious, you know. To the outside world as much as to yourself.” Draco pointed, nudging him gently. It had become quite the legendary tale in the Slytherin quarters, after six years of blissful inattention.
“But to this extent? Love is supposed to be this huge thing. And here’s me, completely and utterly unaware. It’s quite pitiful.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Theo. It’s the first time it happens to you. You can’t know everything, especially when you’ve never been in that situation before.”
“I guess…” The brunet sighed, defeated. “I’m just… It is hard. I don’t know what to do, how to act. It brings up so many questions and doubts I never even thought existed before.” He looked directly at Draco, anxiety shining through his gaze. “I’m not dazzling like Blaise or charming like you. I’ve never been. I’m just Theo. Awkward, anxious and scarred Theo. What should I do?”
“First, breathe, we don’t want you to have a panic attack.”
“Already did.”
“Why am I not even surprised?” Draco muttered, shaking his head. He collected his thoughts, wanting to be as clear and understandable as possible. “It’s not a question of should, rather of want. What do you want, Theo?”
That seemed to render the boy even more quiet. He frowned, reflecting on the question. “I don't know. I don’t know how to approach all these feelings, these emotions inside of me. It’s overwhelming and scary.”
“Do you want to tell Harry?” It was the most logical question after all.
“No!” Theo’s eyes widened in a mix of panic, fear and horror. “No, not now.” A beat of silence passed. “Is that wrong?”
“There is no right and wrong here, there is simply what you feel and how we can handle that in the best possible way, in order to not lead you in a self-destructive path.”
“Should I tell him?”
“When you are ready, yes.”
“But how do I know if I’m ready?” Theo wondered, brows furrowed.
“When you’re not distressed by all these feelings anymore. When you’re at ease with the fact that you love him and want to be with him.” Draco scrutinised the frowning face. “Do you?”
“Want to be with him?” Theo echoed.
Upon the affirmative nod, he closed his eyes and tried to imagine a life with Harry at his side. What surprised him was how smoothly it came to him. He could picture them together quite easily, their private conversations till late in the night, the peaceful rest of their two bodies sleeping against each other, the loving eyes and fond smiles, their hands holding, their lips kissing, their fingers caressing… Yes, he could picture it. No, he wanted it, Theo realised. Something in him longed for it, urging him to just go, declare himself regardless of the consequences.
“Yes, I think I… I think I want that.” He murmured, dazed by the sudden awareness of his feelings’ depth.
“Good.”
They stayed silent for a moment, sitting on the carpet floor, backs against the partition. They could hear the faint brouhaha of the bustling students, not far from them, flooding the train with their excitement. It was soothing in a strange way, like a lullaby reverberating melodiously in the background.
“Does it bother you that it’s a boy?” Draco abruptly asked, breaking the quietness. “I mean, the Pureblood society isn’t famous for its openness. I wouldn’t be surprised if you are a bit alarmed, frightened or disturbed, especially with what your father tried to mould you into.”
It was a fairly legitimate question, Theo contemplated. Homosexuality or rather every shade of queerness weren’t very well-received in their uptight and archaic little world. The new generation of wizards seemed more open, whatever their “ranks” in the wizarding society, but you clearly couldn’t say the same for the old families. Yet, it wasn’t even a novelty, seeing as it had always existed. If memories served well, Salazar Slytherin himself was known for his plethora of male lovers scattered across the world. Fact that had obviously been erased from the textbooks given to little pureblood lords in the making.
Theo shrugged without a care in the world. “Oddly enough, I’m not. Well, it’s not true : I am surprised indeed, but more so to be in love than the fact that the subject of my affection is a boy.”
“Why is that?” Draco enquired, curious.
“I’ve never considered it. Being in love, being attracted to someone, it was all unknown to me. Like something you read in the books, something you watch from afar. Another strange phenomenon to observe and dissect. I just thought it wasn’t for me, maybe I didn’t work that way, and it was fine.”
“Until Harry?”
“Until Harry.” Theo grinned wryly, fondness nonetheless gleaming in his eyes. “He’s quite annoying, isn’t he?”
They burst in laughter, shaking their heads. He was quite annoying indeed, but in the best possible way. A testament of the affection he held for the people he cared about.
The brunet smirked. “If anything, it’s another fuck-you to my father and that is extremely gratifying. I can already picture his horrid face contorted with disgust or him telling me he would have expected nothing less from a freak, a disgrace to the Nott name.”
Draco sneered. “You’re not any of that! I hope you see that.”
“Don’t worry, me being gay is clearly low-ranked on the list of every disappointment I caused him. And I frankly don’t care what anyone has to say about that.”
The sneer turned into a wolfish smile. “If anyone did say something, they wouldn’t be alive for very long, trust me.”
Theo rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help an amused snort. He felt so relieved, free of a burden he hadn’t known he was bearing. “I’m glad I told you. It feels a bit less terrifying.”
“You can always come to me about that sort of thing, Theo.” Pausing, Draco scrunched up his nose, rethinking his sentence. “Well not the sexual part, I suppose. You can leave that to Blaise, I’m sure he’ll happily fill you in. But otherwise, I’m here to help you and always will be.”
They smiled at each other, before getting up, dusting their clothes and arranging their hair. “Now, let’s go back before they think we have somehow been kidnapped or murdered.” The blond told his friend derisively.
“I doubt Hermione would care.” The brunet retorted.
“She hates me, doesn’t she ?” Draco muttered, helpless.
“Oh I wouldn’t say that. You know what they say : there is a thin line between love and hate. You evidently crossed it, so why wouldn’t she?”
“Stay oblivious, please.”
The Great Hall was lit by thousands of incandescent candles, casting a surreal glow to the room. The four tables had been pushed apart, leaving a vast empty space in the middle, with a few chairs scattered around the edges. On the Professors’ platform was now a band, playing some sort of lively and bouncy music that made the majority of the students dance wildly. Ah, it brought back some bittersweet memories…
Harry was seated in a corner, a Pumpkin juice in one hand, his chin in the other, gazing at the frenzied crowd. People were pressing against each other, swaying their hips, laughing or singing along to the crazy rhythm. Even some of the professors seemed to enjoy the madness. It was definitely a great idea to celebrate New Year’s Eve at Hogwarts, especially with how carefree and cheerful they all appeared. God, he felt like an old man for saying that!
Groaning, Harry set his glass down and searched for the familiar silhouettes of his friends, lost somewhere in the mass of wriggling bodies. Earlier that evening, Hermione, dressed up in a lovely blue dress, had dragged a gloomy Theo on the dancefloor. The poor boy hadn’t even had a chance to protest, only calling in vain for help. Ron and Draco had followed them not long after, of course the former challenging the latter to see which one had the better moves (from what he knew of his best friend talents, unquestionably Draco). Harry hadn’t gone along, staying at their table as an amused spectator. He could easily recognize that dancing wasn’t one of his strengths. Alright, he had two left feet and would undoubtedly embarrass himself in front of everybody if he so much as ventured on that scary dancefloor. At least he was honest!
But now, seeing Theo’s wide smile and undulating body, so free and enticing, surrounded by strangers, it was making him regret not taking dance class or Hermione’s advice more seriously. And not just a little. Immensely. God, he looked so fucking good, his head thrown back, eyes shut and curly waves bouncing along. Harry wanted to get up, march right up to him, cup his rosy cheeks and kiss him until he couldn’t breathe. And he was very talented at apnea!
Unfortunately, he couldn’t do that. Even if he really, really wanted to. Desperately. So much that the knuckles on his armrest were becoming too white. Merlin, where was the whiskey when he needed it? His pining was getting desperate.
Idly, Harry wondered how Theo couldn’t see it. Or perhaps he didn’t want to see. That would be awkward. Sure, a crush on a friend would have been easy to get over, but now ? No, Harry wasn’t certain he could do it, move on and forget about this incredible boy that haunted his brain every hour of the day. Even want to, if he were totally honest. Sighing, he got up and headed for the table disguised as a bar, in hope of finding something stronger than Pumpkin juice. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw Theo’s face lit up by a wide smile, shining blue eyes and a laugh so adorable he wanted to bottle it just for himself. No, he’d never want to move on.
Now, where was the alcohol?
Theo let out a deep breath. One thing that was incredibly valuable with the Room of Requirement, was that it could truly give you anything. For example, he had just mentally wished for a balcony or something, in order to have some fresh air, and just like that… pow! A balcony, with a balustrade and direct access to the moon and the stars. Merlin, sometimes he profoundly loved magic. Wow, the stars looked really shiny tonight! Like little pearls or incandescent fireflies… How many were there? Maybe he could count them. And the moon was so big! Like she could swallow them whole, devour him and light up his interiors.
Oh fuck, he was wasted… Not his fault! It was Ron that dragged them to this bloody afterparty (for seventh and eighth years only, of course) and kept refilling his glass!
Theo grabbed the balustrade, feeling himself faltering. Everything was spinning around him way too fast for a normal human being. Crap, why did he listen to Ron? He shouldn't have taken that fourth drink. Bad friend, really bad friend. His head felt dizzy and buzzing. If tomorrow he woke up alive and with enough energy to move without vomiting, he was definitely going to murder the redhead… A sudden movement in his vicinity flashed in the corner of his eye. Intensifying his hold on the balustrade, he tried to turn around slowly. Exceedingly slowly. The last thing he needed was falling off the balcony. So, who was interrupting his moment of inebriety? Ah. Harry. He wasn’t even surprised at this point. Maybe the alcohol helped dull his reactive instincts.
The taller boy approached him sluggishly, his gait unsteady. The white shirt he was wearing for the party was half unbuttoned, revealing his tanned bare chest, and his dark hair looked even more messy than usual. Harry was smiling silly, his cheeks and nose glistening red. The glasses had been lost somewhere in all the craziness, disclosing two glassy but sparkling emeraudes. Well, he wasn’t the only one drunk, it seemed. Harry leant his elbows on the balustrade, a few paces away, his head thrown back. The moonlight was projecting a luminous glow on his skin and wow was he ethereal! His throat was in full display, his Adam's apple hypnotically bobbing, the sharp line of jaw shimmering. Theo wanted to… to trace the sharp edge with his finger or.. or his tongue…
Fuck, he was utterly hammered!
It wasn’t his fault when Harry looked like… like that! So enticing, relaxed and heavenly. It was entirely Harry’s fault! He couldn’t be held responsible for his thoughts or future actions at the moment. But Merlin did he want to come closer so badly. Stupid mind!
“God I hate you.” Theo involuntarily blurted out, a scorn on his face.
Instantly, Harry shifted direction, staring at him with wide stupefied eyes.
Shit, did he say that out loud? Bloody hell, he was definitely murdering Ron tomorrow! And he was never going to drink a single drop of alcohol again, never ever. What was he supposed to say now, huh? Sorry? I don’t hate you, but honestly just a little bit right now, because you look godly and I want to lick your throat? No, he couldn’t tell Harry that, not if he wanted to keep a relatively good friendship with him. So what now?
Theo must have looked as astounded as the taller boy, because Harry began to chuckle quietly, propping his chin on his hand, scanning him up and down languidly through lidded eyes.
“Well, thank you, kind sir.” He murmured, his voice oddly husky.
Theo frowned, a bit confused by the reaction. “It… it wasn’t a compliment, idiot.” Maybe his tone was a tad harsher than necessary, but who could blame him, when he was being stared at like that. It was… hot. Too hot. Why was hot his new favourite word?
“Sure it was.” Harry smiled, his mouth curling stupidly in one corner.
“No!” The small boy protested vehemently, waving his hand around. “I’m the one saying it, aren't I?”
“Perhaps…”
Theo groaned, rubbing his face. “Ugh, you’re drunk.” And too attractive tonight, under those shiny glittery stars. He needed to get away. But should he let the other drunken fool all alone on this very high balcony?
“You too.” Harry lazily pointed out, still smiling and gazing at him.
“Am not!”
“Yes.”
“No!”
“Yes.”
“N- Why am I even arguing with a drunken fool?” Theo sighed, shaking his dark curls in exasperation.
“Because you’re drunk. Only drunk people can understand each other. And argue apparently.” Harry deadpanned, a lot more seriously than his dishevelled and dazed appearance let on.
Theo glared at him. “You know what? Fine. I am drunk, you are drunk, we’re all drunk!” He almost yelled. Merlin, why were they discussing the technicalities of inebriation? What was even the point? He groaned loudly, leaning further on the balustrade. Was it too late to jump off the balcony?
Harry hummed, attracting his attention. “So, why d’you hate me then? Maybe I can add something new to the list.” He mused, eyes glinting with amusement. He didn’t seem to find the declaration all that much mean or significant. Which was good? It suggested Theo hadn’t destroyed their friendship in a fit of drunken truth or divulged his real feelings.
“What list?” He asked nonetheless, curious.
“The list of things people hate about me. You’d be surprised how many things give them the ick.” Harry shrugged casually, like it meant nothing. He wasn’t even dejected by his own words, his face twisted in a rather cynical expression.
A sudden rush of heartache struck Theo. “It’s not very funny. It’s kinda sad actually.” He whispered quietly.
How could someone hate Harry? After everything he had done for the Wizarding world, everything he had sacrificed. Of course, the irony of that thought didn’t really hit him.
“I prefer to joke rather than cry about it.” Theo inspected Harry’s grinning face. His smile could rival the moon. “So?”
The silent boy brought his gaze back to the green eyes. “Hmm?” He furrowed his brows, having lost the thread of the conversation. This smile was too damn distracting. What did he say?
The smile widened. “What do you hate about me?”
“I-I…”
“What. Do. You. Hate. About. Me?” At each word, Harry came one step closer, his grin turning devilish. He seemed to greatly enjoy the situation and Theo’s panicked face. The frail boy was hastily moving backward, gaping. What was happening? Why was Harry suddenly towering him? He stopped their weird chase by putting a steady hand on the other’s chest. His bare warm chest. Flushing, he looked up, coming face to face with a very smug Harry.
“Y-your smile.” Theo stuttered, his mouth dry and his cheeks hot.
“My smile?” Genuine surprise shined through the green eyes. “That’s definitely new.” Harry commented, seemingly very entertained.
Theo saw red. Maybe that was the alcohol running through his blood or the fact that his friend was having fun at his expense, his stupid smile still stuck on his stupid face. Whatever it was, it motivated him enough to actually explode in a roaring and angry shout.
“Yes, your stupid smile! Always grinning at me, flashing your… shiny… white… teeth at me, like you’re challenging me or something. And your fucking smirk! Why do you always have to smirk? Do you know how distracting it is? How it makes my stomach feel weird!”
The furious reply rendered Harry speechless, as a flushed Theo, finally tasting the freedom of the truth, carried on, jabbing the chest with a vindicated finger.
“Oh, and your eyes! Your green piercing eye! You don’t even know how much time I wasted on trying to count every shade of it. The way you stare at me is… is annoying! It makes my head feel so dizzy and my spine so tingly.”
Harry tried to say something, but another resolute push on his chest made him close his mouth. He was clearly better off silent. Plus, Theo still had a lot to say about him.
“Besides, do you really have to keep this haircut? Like, must your hair really fall so… charmingly unkempt? I hate it! Hate it because I badly want to touch it, to try to disentangle it. They look so soft and smooth… And don’t get me started on your hands! Is there a natural and legitimate reason as to why they are so large and warm? So nice and… and comforting. Every time you touch me, it’s like a burst or… or a rush of energy going through me, it makes me want to grip and hold you forever.”
At this point, Harry was definitely smiling broadly: Theo looked so adorable, his chin up and outraged, glaring at him. He didn’t seem to notice what he was really saying, too enraptured in his own rant.
“Ah and how could I forget about your scent! It’s musky and spicy and grounding… I can’t seem to escape it : it’s everywhere, on my stuff, my clothes, even my pillow. A horrible torture! Same as your goddamn voice. It’s too deep and velvety! I’m always agitated when you lean in and whisper things in my ear. It makes me shiver and weirdly hot.”
Theo finished his rave, panting and crimson. He was gasping for air, after so much sputtering, and squirmed under the piercing gaze. He felt naked, like Harry could see through him, his eyes undecipherable and his face inscrutable. It was uncomfortable and made him clench his fists.
Harry titled his head forward, their eyes now at the same level. He could feel his breath tickle his nose. “Are you finished?” He whispered, his tone so low he could have imagined the words. But it was impossible for Theo to escape those eyes.
He swallowed with difficulty, the silence ringing uneasily in his ears.
“No, I’m not.” He whispered back, watching the pupils dilating. His heart was pounding in his chest. What the fuck was he doing?
Theo carried on, his voice a lot quieter, almost plaintive. “Why do you always have to wait for me after class? To give me grilled-cheese sandwiches after I come back from the Library too late in the evenings? Or prepare my coffee exactly how I like in the mornings? Bring me other layers of clothes because I’m always too cold? Why, Harry?”
There was a real pain in his words, a supplication to understand, to please put an end to this uncertainty and underlying tension. It was there between them, very real, sharp and cutting.
Nothing except their heavy breathing could be heard on the balcony. Just them, staring at each other, only a few centimetres away. Suddenly, Harry moved forward, shoving Theo backwards, his back hitting the wall. His eyes widening, the shorter boy choked on his own cry of surprise.
“Finished now?” Harry nearly growled, putting his two arms at each side of Theo’s head, caging him.
“Y-yes.”
“Good.”
He smirked, the green of his eyes completely gone, replaced by darkness only.
“I really like how you hate me, Theodore.” He murmured to his ear, so low and raspy. “Really really like it.”
“Y-yeah?” Theo stammered, his voice coming out more like a whimper than anything. He tried to appear more confident, but couldn't erase the mix of apprehension and desire openly splattered on his face. He had no bloody idea of what was going on, but fuck he liked it!
“Hmm.” Harry hummed, the sound rumbling in his chest. One of his hands approached the stunned face, his fingers caressing his cheek lightly. “I like that you’re always smiling at my dumb jokes or sarcastic remarks. Everytime there is this adorable dimple that shows just right… here.”
He brushed the corner of Theo’s mouth, making him gasp. His eyes turned avid, like he was hungry for something, ready to ravish the flushed face and trembling mouth. Harry lowered his lips right on the dimple’s location, grazing it gently.
“I like it when you blush at compliments. Especially mine. Your cheekbones become so delicately rosy, it enhances the blue of your eyes.” He carried on, his voice deeper and deeper, as he traced the lines of Theo’s cheekbones with his lips.
As for Theo, he had lost any sense of reality, his mind only focused on that mouth, warm and hot on his face. He was completely overwhelmed with the musky scent, the feeling of the heated gaze and the soft touch on him. How could something so slight cause so much in his body? The burning thrill travelling down his spine, the numbing dizziness, the harshening of his sensitive skin. It felt so good he had to shut his eyes, immersing himself fully in the feverish sensation.
“Or when you bite your lips, reddening them, when your breathing speeds up, leaving you panting and speechless, each time I put my large and warm hands on you.” Harry groaned, nipping at Theo’s jawline.
Their chests were pressed against one another, panting at the same time. The taller boy had to restrain himself to not push his knee between Theo’s shaky legs. He desperately wanted to, but not tonight, he couldn’t.
He growled, kissing the boy’s throat, making him groan. “Fuck, I never want to keep them off you. You’re tantalising, Theodore Nott. A sweet addictive torment.”
Theo whined. Legitimately whined. A sharp, needy whine that seemed to greatly pleased Harry, as he gripped his waist tight, pulling their pelvis against each other.
Oh.
Oh fuck, he could feel the taller boy’s very real, very tangible and very hard arousal, pressed against his own. Another whine escaped him when Harry started to slowly, almost painfully rub his crotch against his own. It wasn’t even that much, but it was clearly enough for Theo to feel a literal fire coursing through his veins. He wanted more. More friction, more heat, more fucking growls. Why were they still wearing clothes? In this instant, he hated clothes so fucking much, especially pants!
The intense sensation of Harry fully biting his collarbone brought Theo back to reality, this feverish and fervent reality. Harry must have seen something on his face, because he grinned and (unfortunately) moved his lips away from Theo’s body, leaving behind a trail of kisses and glistening marks.
He groaned at the loss, his mind still lost to haziness. Why did he stop? Theo opened his eyes, intending to ask that exact question, if his voice allowed him, but Harry’s serious face halted him in his very important quest. Well, as serious as someone shaking with drunkenness and voracious desire could be.
“Did you like that, Theo?” He asked the panting boy, still backed up against the wall.
The hands were framing his face again, leaving a cold, empty space between their bodies. Theo was positively aching for more, his lips trembling, his head dizzy. Nothing else mattered to him but that space that needed to be filled urgently. However, a gentle, yet firm hand gripped his chin, lifting it enough that the smaller boy couldn’t escape the unwavering gaze and unanswered question, still lingering in the air. A bratty and insolent part of him wanted to snort. Were his hard dick and eager whines not enough proof? Still, he didn’t say anything, only staring at those green eyes and reddened lips. Harry raised an eyebrow, bossy.
“Say it, angel.” He enunciated with a deep, commanding voice, still holding his chin.
“Yes.” Theo could only whisper, eyes wide.
Was this a dream? Now that everything had stopped, his brain couldn’t process what was happening. Did they really… do that? Maybe he was way too drunk and fantasising about Harry. Yet, he could still feel the fingers on his burning skin, the weight of the heated gaze focused solely on him. It had to be real, right?
Suddenly, an odd expression appeared on the Gryffindor’s face, breaking Theo from his swirling and anxious thoughts.
“Harry?”
“I think I’m going to throw up.”