How Are You, Really? (Drarry)

Chapter Thirty-Three: Harry's Revelation

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting around the fireplace, each holding a mug of ever-hot hot chocolate. Hermione was sipping hers as she perused the giant book on potions Ron had bought her on Draco's recommendation. Draco had left around midnight, citing a desire to sleep in his own bed.

Harry stared into his cup, working up the courage to say what needed to be said. He had no idea how his news would be taken, and he was dreading the reaction, especially from Ron. Screwing up all his courage, Harry blurted out, "I think I have feelings for Draco."

No one reacted. He glanced up and found neither of his friends seemed the least bit shocked. Hermione hadn't even lifted her gaze from her book.

"Guys?"

Hermione finally looked up. "I'm glad you've realized what we've all known for ages now."

Harry stared at her, his mouth hanging open. "But, I just realized myself!"

Ron snorted. "Harry, just because you just realized something doesn't mean that everyone else didn't already know. It's been obvious for a while now. I don't know how the git hasn't realized it."

Harry cringed. "Was it that obvious?"

Ron and Hermione nodded in unison.

"But what was I doing?"

Ron sighed, ticking off on his fingers each point. "You can't keep your eyes away from him, you spend all your time talking about him, and he can do no wrong. It's sickening to listen to you blabber on. Can't believe he hasn't noticed – he might just be as thick as you are."

Harry moaned, "I hope he hasn't realized."

Shutting her book with a snap, Hermione stared at Harry. "Why on earth would you want to keep this a secret?"

Harry shrugged. "What if he doesn't feel the same way, and I ruin our friendship? I don't want that. I couldn't stand it." The thought actually made him ill.

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. Ron turned to Harry. "Mate, you know Draco isn't my favorite person in the world, but I think you should tell him."

Harry stared into his cup again, thinking. Could he risk his friendship on the off chance that Draco liked him too?

"I can't do it."

Hermione threw up her hands, and Ron chucked a throw pillow at him.

"Do you guys know something I don't?" Harry asked, suddenly suspicious.

They shifted uncomfortably. "Even if we did, Harry, it's not our place to say anything. This is something you're going to have to figure out on your own."

Harry's frown deepened. "You're supposed to be my friends."

Hermione sighed like Harry was missing the point. "But we're Dracos friends too. Yes, even Ron, although he'd never admit it."

Ron grumbled something under his breath but didn't protest more.

Harry sighed. "You guys know Draco likes someone. I just wish I knew who it was."

"Harry. Sometimes you are so blind." Hermione rose from her seat and stomped upstairs, waking up the ghoul in the attic with her noise.

Harry turned to Ron. "What's her problem?"

"I think you are, mate. Not that I'm complaining; usually, it's me! But I'm going to go to sleep as well. Goodnight." He rose and walked out, leaving Harry to his own thoughts.

He stared into the fire until his eyes burned, and little flames danced in his vision when he looked away. Ron and Hermione had responded better than he thought they would, especially Ron.

What was he supposed to do now that he knew he had these feelings? He brushed his lips softly, trying to remember the way Dracos lips had felt against his own. A shiver ran down his spine at the memory. He had never felt that way kissing Ginny. He smiled to himself - he couldn't help it. The first swift kiss had only driven Harry's anticipation for the second one.

He groaned and put his head in his hands. What had he done? Why had he kissed Draco the second time? They could easily have laughed off George's jab, but noooo Harry just had to taste Draco's lips again.

Draco probably hated him now. He was well aware that the other man had avoided making eye contact with Harry for the rest of the visit. Harry just didn't know what to do with his newfound feelings.

Were they new, though? Or had Harry always just been blind to them? Is this why he had been obsessed with Draco over the years? Not because he hated the boy, but because he loved him?

He laid back onto the rug trying not to think and stared at the ceiling. Eventually, his eyes drift shut.