Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery

Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery

Ch. 4

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.--Elie Wiesel

Harry's talk with Ron and Hermione had given him a lot to think about, but mostly it made him really appreciate how wonderful his friends really were. Over the next few weeks he was prone to continued fits of quietness, but they were wholly different than the sullen quietness of the previous weeks. The difference was palpable, and Ron and Hermione sensed that he was well again.

Harry was deep in thought. Everything he had ever known about Draco had been called into question when Harry had seen him in that corridor. Draco seemed to constantly exude an air of superiority, but that day there appeared to Harry a crack in Draco's seemingly perfect life. It wasn't the fact that his hair was not perfectly set as usual, it wasn't the unfastened robe or presence of muggle clothes, it wasn't his solitude, it wasn't even the sad look on his face.

Something that went beyond appearance was different about Draco. Harry sensed it then, and he could still feel it when Draco was around. He could feel it, even with his eyes closed. Something was bothering Draco, and Harry was torn between the thought that anything that troubled a known enemy HAD to be good news, and the thought that Draco was no longer an enemy.

As if that weren't enough, Harry had slowly come to the conclusion that he was not as straight as he assumed he was. In fact, he was not straight at all. He had examined his feelings for all of the girls in his life, and discovered that aside from his crush on Cho in fourth year, he did not feel one modicum of attraction or desire for any of them.

He sat quietly in the common room, observing the females of Gryffindor. He watched Parvati pull back her long hair and twist it into a bun at the back of her head. He watched Lavender apply fruity gloss to her full lips. He watched Hermione reading a book with her brow creased. He watched Ginny bending over to pick up a pack of Exploding Snap cards that had fallen off of a table. He noticed that, without his ever noticing, the girls he had known for half of his life had turned into women. They had developed breasts, they had developed soft curves, and as he watched her bending over, he had just noticed that Ginny had begun wearing VERY low rise jeans...

"Ahem," a throat clearing broke him from his reverie. He looked over at Ron, who was looking back at him with an eyebrow raised. "Why, may I ask, are you looking at my little sister's posterior?"

"Oh! I was just...thinking."

"Uh huh, right."

"No, I was thinking about how much we have all grown since we started here. And I can see Ginny's pants."

"Oi, Ginny!"

Harry chuckled to himself as Ron jumped up and approached Ginny to lecture her about her jeans. As he looked around at all of the breasts and curvy bums around him, Harry realised that they did not seem to attract him or excite him the way they did Ron. Ron was always going on about Hermione's bum, and as Harry snuck a glance at it, he felt nothing.

He looked over at Ron who was gesturing to Ginny almost melodramatically. He noticed the way Ron's arms had filled out so that the sleeves of his ringer tee clung to him to show the movement of the muscles beneath. He noticed many muscles that Ron didn't have when they were eleven. Harry chalked this up to the hours of Quidditch practice Ron had been engaging in since fifth year. Harry noticed the little bit of shadow that was popping up on Ron's jaw since his shave that morning. As Ron was gesturing to the Prefect's badge on his chest Harry noticed that Ron had quite a nice backside...

"Oh, bloody hell!" Harry did not just get an erection looking at Ron's bum. No, it was all this thinking about bodies and puberty...

"The nerve of her! And when did she get a THONG? Honestly!"

Harry sprang up so fast as Ron plopped down next to him that you'd have thought the sofa was a teeter-totter. "I've got to go to the toilet!"

"Ummm, okay..." Ron sounded slightly confused.

Harry scrambled up to the seventh years' toilet just across from the dormitories. Slamming the door behind him, he leaned against the sink, breathing heavy. Harry couldn't be attracted to Ron, no way. He tried to imagine kissing Ron and felt a surge of relief as his growing erection faltered. He didn't think of Ron that way; Ron was like a brother to him. Harry sat on the toilet and tried to catch his breath. Sure, Ron may have a nicely muscled body, but as Harry thought of doing anything even slightly sexual with him, he lost his erection completely.

When his breathing came back to normal, Harry decided to take a shower. After collecting his supplies from his room he entered the baths next to the seventh year toilets. He chose a stall in the back and began to strip off his uniform, thinking about what had just happened in the common room.

Now that he had some semblance of rational thought back he could see that the whole thing WAS innocent. He had been trying to examine his sexual feelings, and when he had come to the realisation that soft, round and bouncy was not what interested him, he had merely considered the alternative. With relief Harry found that he could now think about Ron with not one physical reaction. The reaction must have just been to the realization that what excited Harry was strength, firm muscles, and oddly enough, five o'clock shadow.

As Harry lathered himself he reached up to feel his own jaw. He hadn't shaved since this morning either, and his jaw was rough with nearly twelve hours' worth of stubble. He imagined what a rough jaw like that would feel like against his cheek, against his chest, against his stomach, against his growing erection.

Harry imagined what it would feel like to wrestle on a bed with a firm body, feeling the weight on top, then underneath, as taut muscles entwined. He imagined the low masculine grunting and hot breath in his ear as strong hands wrapped around his hips, pulling his body back into a well-muscled chest, glistening with sweat. Strong arms enfolding him from behind, reaching around to do what his own hand was doing in the downpour of this warm water...

-- -- -- -- --

Harry finished his shower and pulled on a pair of pyjamas. Heading over to his dormitory, he thought about today's revelations. The fact that he was gay didn't bother him at all, but he worried about how his friends would react if they ever found out, sure they were supportive, and would do anything for him, but this wasn't exactly normal, was it? Harry though back to their impromptu intervention from before, and found some confidence that they would be his friends, no matter what.

He was about to turn in when Ron entered the room.

"Just got back from the owlery. HAD to tell mum about those jeans, and that thong. No sister of mine is going to parade around here looking like a...Harry, you okay?"

Harry couldn't stop grinning. "Yeh, I'm fine. You're a great friend, you know, and a great brother."

"Yeah, well..." Ron made his way over to his own bed, trying, but failing to hide his red cheeks.

End Chapter Four