New Year, New Secrets

=word= means it is written by a character or a spell/enchantment/charm/curse/other magical pronouncement

WORD means it is exclaimed or emphasized

New Year, New Secrets

"WHAT was THAT?!"

Ron was questioning Harry madly as he returned to the Gryffindor table to finish breakfast. The incident still fresh in his mind, Harry merely glanced at Ron, his face a muddle of dizzy giddiness.

"What's that, Ron?" he inquired, confused. He lifted the tiny figurine from its box and stroked it easily with his thumb. He shot Draco a broad grin of thanks and turned his attention back to Ron. "All right then, Ron?"

"NO! I'm NOT all right, HARRY!" Ron spat. "Why on God's green earth have you fallen for MALFOY, of all people?! I mean, I'm your best mate, and you won't look TWICE at me!"

"Ron, shh," Hermione fussed. "Get as angry as you'd like, but can't you SEETHE like a normal human? There's no need to shout."

Ron sat back on the bench in a huff, as he had been leaning so far forward he was almost standing. "I'm only saying I've never even been looked at the way he's ogling Malfoy." Ron spat the name as though it were an Unforgivable. Suddenly he sighed, pushing his toast aside. "I'm sorry, Harry. I don't mean to come off as jealous. I'm just …"

"Jealous?" Harry supplied.

"Yeah." Ron smiled, the tops of his ears going very pink. "But, why MALFOY?" He grinned as Hermione shoved a jar of preserves under his nose. Murmuring something to the effect of "All right, blackberry," Ron dug a knife in and watched Harry flush.

Harry bit his lip and watched in silent appreciation as Draco exited the Great Hall. Trying to be discreet, Harry followed Draco's smooth gait. He looked nearly as though he floated gracefully through the heavy oaken double doors. Draco turned imperceptibly and grinned, lifting an eyebrow at Harry. As quickly as he had stopped, Draco slipped out the door. Harry opened his mouth to make an attempt at explaining himself, but was soon interrupted.

"Harry, could I get a picture? For a Christmas card? My family's DYING to see a real live picture of the Boy-Who--erm, a picture of you."

Colin Creevey brandished a camera in front of Harry and grinned madly. Harry, still a little high on the fairy tale kiss of Christmas morning, agreed quite willingly. "Oy, mind if I get my mates in? A little group picture, eh? The Boy-Who-Lived in his natural habitat." Harry rounded the end of the table and stood between Hermione and Ron, who each wore an expression of shock and aggravation. Grinning widely, Harry slung an arm over each of them. With a flash of the bulb, Colin scuttled off, the image of Christmas cheer. Harry hugged his mates warmly and bellowed a Happy Christmas.

"So as I was trying to say," Harry sighed, sneaking between Hermione and Ron and reaching for a glass. "Malfoy and I…" he sort of trailed off for a moment, glazing over a bit. "Blimey," he whispered, "he kissed me." Shaking his head, Harry forced himself out of the wonderment. Hermione and Ron had each raised a concerned but amused eyebrow as they watched the seeker drift. "Opposites attract, mate," he nodded sagely, pointing sharply at Ron. "There's a thin line between love and hate. You always hurt the one you love. You need a few more clichés, Ron?" Harry chuckled and handed each of his mates a small pastry off the platter before them.

"You haven't the faintest," Hermione accused with a smile. Harry laughed and sighed, grinning all the while. Ron continued his short-lived love affair with the jam.

"Not a clue. I just figure there's got to be some sort of incredible connection between us that makes us--excuse me, MADE us--absolutely malicious toward each other. I assume we each smartened up and spent less energy on hatred and more on friendship." He paused to flash a love-stricken grin. "The friendship just exploded before we saw it as friendship. I'll tell you one thing, and this is because I want to be honest with you two, but I've been lusting after Draco since I first met him in Madame Malkin's."

Ron sputtered the pumpkin juice he had been attempting to swallow. Hermione choked a bit on her toast, and they both turned to stare at the raven haired boy, who laughed a bit at their reaction. "Oh, surely you REALIZED that my little crush on Cho was a cover up for the hankey-pankey between Seamus and I?"

"SEAMUS?!"

"FINNEGAN?!"

"Yeah, Seamus. He's really quite tender; you should get to know him better. He can be a bit kinky sometimes, though." Harry laughed again at his mate's unusual reactions. "Look, it's been lovely, what with watching you gape at my homosexual debauchery, but I've to be off. Draco awaits. I'll leave you with the thought that he and I will be very much alone together in a dormitory. I won't tell you which; leads up to the surprise. And Hermione, don't think you can rule your dormitory out."

And with those disturbing ideas, Harry left Hermione looking on in nauseous speculation, and Ron with his mouth wide open, chewed toast and jam threatening to spill out.

Seamus glanced up cluelessly. "Did someone call me?"

Harry turned a corner, eyes wildly darting about to find Draco. He couldn't imagine Draco could have gotten very far; he had only spoken to Hermione and Ron for a moment or two. Harry briefly considered giving up and finding him later, but the image of Draco's languidly raised eyebrow, his coy smile, the way his eyes seemed to veritably beckon Harry onward fueled his search. Harry soon found Draco leaning casually against a wall, twiddling his wand idly. "Hullo, Harry," he greeted. "Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas, Draco." Harry's face broke into an amused grin. "It feels so good to call you by your given name."

"I know," Draco agreed bashfully. Harry marveled at the fact that the pale boy's angry, cold demeanor had disappeared entirely. "Harry, may I make a confession?" Harry nodded, and Draco fumbled on. "Harry, I--you ought to know--I've wanted you since I met you in Madame Malkin's!" he spat suddenly, his face going even paler and his blue eyes growing wide and vulnerable.

"Ah, FINALLY! Something we can agree on!" Harry beamed and kissed Draco's cheek. "Don't look at me that way. Come, we've no classes and there's an incredible snowfall occurring. What say we go out for a walk? Maybe find a little spot to snog?"

Draco continued to stare at Harry as though he had sprouted an extra head, which probably was the only thing that HADN'T happened to a student in one of Snape's dreaded potions classes. "You've gone crackers," he finally managed to breathe, but he followed Harry on for a moment. "Oy, wait, Harry!"

Harry turned just in time to see Draco dash back toward the Great Hall. Eyebrows cocked in puzzlement, Harry remained in relatively the same area he had been left in, shuffling only a touch. Draco rushed back in a moment later, breathless. Smiling in confusion and hoping for an explanation from the pale boy, Harry fell into step beside him. "Well?"

"I only had to get something from Granger. Blast, what's her first name again, Harry? I can't very well go on calling her Mudblood, now, can I? I managed to charm my way through this past conversation merely by calling her 'Miss Granger' with the stuffiest of sweetness."

"Her name's Hermione," Harry fumbled.

"And the Weasley boy?" Draco prodded, eager to learn.

"Which one?" Harry chuckled, joyful at Draco's attempts.

"The one who had a hissy fit when he saw you snog me."

"Ah. That would be Ron."

Draco nodded. "Hermione, that ought to be easy to remember; stands out in the mind. Ron, that'll be a bit harder. Ron, Ron, Ron, Ron," chanted Draco, desperate to retain the information. Suddenly, Draco laughed loudly. Harry trained his gaze to him, a languid eyebrow lifted in a mocking attempt at the blonde's disbelieving stare. "Snape's going to have a conniption!"

Harry laughed along with the Slytherin and suddenly scratched the back of his neck, a bit subdued. "Oy, Dray? How--erm--how is your father going to react to--erm, well--us?" It was the first time Harry had really spoken about Lucius, and by the sour face Draco had pulled, it would be his last.

"I really don't care," said Draco tersely. "He has no power over me."

"Really? He doesn't have 'Uncle Voldie' coming to pay a visit and give his ickle neffy-poo his first tattoo?" Harry teased, poking Draco as they took yet another turn in the winding corridors.

"Well, he does," Draco smiled sadly. "But Hell if I come-a running. They'll have to catch me. I'll be the first Death Eater with the Dark Mark on my arse, you wait and see."

Harry guffawed loudly at the imitation of one of his favorite Muggle comedians. The snippet paraphrased by the shorter boy was one of the few bits of the telly Harry had gotten to see, watching from over Dudley's porky head. Draco, however, failed to catch the joke. He chuckled weakly to appease the bespectacled boy.

Soon enough, he was able to change the subject by flinging open a set of doors and shielding his eyes against the bright morning light reflecting heavenly off the freshly falling snow. Motioning for Harry to step back, Draco brandished his wand and grinned at him. Harry stepped cautiously, thinking perhaps he had seen a malicious glint in Draco's eye. Before Harry had realized it was no more than the sunlight rebounding off the boy's grey-blue eyes, he had very nearly thought there was a reversion in his character.

"=Impervius totalus!=" With a slight wave of his wand, both Draco and Harry were swathed in a mist and instantly dried of any wayward snowflakes. Harry grinned, recognizing the enchantment.

"THAT'S what you had to get from 'Granger,'" Harry marveled softly. "We're waterproof."

"Well, if I've done it correctly," Draco fretted. "I'm not entirely sure I've got the--" Regrettably, Draco's worries were cut short by a snowball to the back of his head as he overlooked the scenery. He would have felt a wet, freezing trail down his back; luckily, the charm had worked.

"Seems all right to me," Harry remarked with a drawl meant to impersonate Draco. "Let's try it again, eh, MALFOY?" He hurled another orb of ice at Draco's startled and awed face. The ball spattered, then dripped away as though it had never touched him, which, indeed it hadn't. Draco immediately retaliated, forming an orb of his own. He wound up, and stopped just short of the follow-through. Suddenly, the ball was brought down, and Draco went surprisingly placid as he observed it.

Harry screwed up his face in confusion, partly molded snow crumbling in his hand and flying away from his mitten to disperse in a powdery tempest. "What are you doing, Dray? You've got yourself open to several more attacks." Harry frowned at the sudden absence of his masterpiece.

"I only just realized, in my fifteen years of witnessing the precipitation, how positively beautiful the snow is."

Draco was promptly hit in the shoulder with another snowball.

"CRIMINEY, HARRY!" Draco let his work of art fly. It beaned Harry squarely on his thin scar and he grinned as he scooped up another tiny globe.

The exchange continued for a quarter of an hour, and soon enough, the boys tired of the cold snow. While they were not wet, thanks to Hermione's charm, they were indeed quite cold. Harry held the heavy door open for Draco and bowed dramatically, motioning for Draco's entrance. In straightening, Harry found Draco's face startlingly close to his own. He was granted a small, almost childish kiss on his nose. Draco grinned at his own impetuousness.

"Got your conk," he giggled. "Come on, I've got to get back to my common room. The House is going all out; they're continuing the festivities. Oh, now, don't give me that look!" Draco laughed at Harry's pathetic pout. "We've been in love for what," he glanced at his bare wrist to give him time to calculate, "an hour? We've got PLENTY of time to snog for mad amounts of time. I've to be off. Tell Hermione and Don that I say Happy Christmas!"

Harry watched Draco wander off a bit, then guilt got the better of him and he called him back. "His name's RON, Dray. RON, not Don." Draco raised his eyebrows and bowed a bit, his arms out to the sides as if to say =I stand corrected.= He quickly dashed back through the hallways. Harry lost sight of him almost immediately.

Harry skipped along through the hallways, not really caring where he went or if he got lost. He would find the Fat Lady soon enough; with no classes during holiday, Harry had no reason to rush. He whistled a jaunty Christmas tune as he went along, winding through the corridors and stepping lively up the staircases, letting them change as they would. His carefree route would merely double back, with no break in his whistling, and find an alternate direction.

Once found, the Fat Lady was delighted with a cordial bow and a grin from Harry. He cheerfully recited the password, although he could have said just about anything, the Fat Lady was so tipsy. Several bottles of liqueur littered the bottom of her frame, and they clinked subtly as the portrait swung open. The sound was overcome, however, by the copious amounts of cheery laughter from inside. Clearly, Gryffindor House had also decided to carry on the festivities, and there were foods and drinks galore spread throughout the common room, courtesy of the Weasley twins. Harry nicked a bit of cake and a butterbeer and scurried off to a corner devoid of wizard crackers. He hardly felt that a headache was the way to enjoy a holiday.

Settled in the corner is how Ron found him a few minutes later. "Oy, Harry!" he greeted, slumping to the ground next to him. "Why all alone? No one even saw you come in. We thought you and Malfoy had eloped." While Ron tried at lighthearted humor, Harry could sense the bitter contempt in his tone. Harry sighed.

"Look, Ron, I understand how you feel about Malfoy--"

"I don't think you do!" Ron spat suddenly, any and all attempts at humour utterly gone. "You've been all over him since he started buying you things! Crickey, Harry, if I knew you had to be BOUGHT I would have sold my Quidditch things ages ago and gotten you something MEANINGFUL!"

"RON, I HATED HIM AS WELL, UP TO A WEEK AGO!"

"THEN YOU ADMIT YOU FELL IN LOVE WHEN YOU STARTED GETTING GIFTS!" Ron was fuming now, his face beyond red and well into pale fury. His freckles stood out on his long nose and Harry glared at his irrational hollering.

"Ron, what is it you want from me?!" he cried desperately. Tears seemed to be building up behind his eyes and he hated himself for allowing them to come and Ron for making him feel that way. Ron seethed for a second and finally spit.

"I want you to give me a valid reason I was never in the running for your heart!"

Harry blinked at the somber tone. He opened his mouth several times, attempting to explain, and finally gave up. Setting his expression in one of determination, he grabbed Ron's neck and pulled him into a fiery kiss.

"Now sod off, Ron; I've got to find Draco."

Harry puttered through a deserted hallway, desperately searching for the trapdoor that opened into the Slytherin common room. His mind reeled, trying to recall the entrance location. It had been upwards of three years since Harry has last seen it; for all he knew, it had moved along with everything else in this castle. He found a general area at last and wandered around muttering the only password he knew. Mortified, Harry began chanting "pure blood" repeatedly in the hopes that the trapdoor would open for him. =Please don't let the door open unless I'm NOT standing on it.=

Suddenly, the floor dropped out a few meters away from Harry. He thought fleetingly how odd it was that the password had not changed in three years. Discarding the thought, Harry braced himself on either side of the hole with his hands and swinging into it. Suddenly, he paused. Why did he really need to tell Draco all of this? What had really happened? He had snogged Ron to shut him up and once he cooled down, he would go back and explain just that. So why tell Draco?

Because he felt guilty.

Because he and Draco had only been together for a few hours and Harry had already cheated.

Because Ron was nowhere near as incredible a kisser as Draco and he wanted to tell the Slytherin just that.

Harry let himself drop.

And landed on a black leather chair that was padded with more than the usual stuffing.

"'Lo, Draco." Harry flushed, grinning like a fool.

Draco raised a languid eyebrow, surprisingly unconcerned by the Gryffindor who had quite literally dropped into his lap from above. "Hello, little boy, and what would YOU like for Christmas?" Draco smiled as Harry entwined his arms around the blonde's neck. He sipped at the fancily engraved flute of butterbeer in his right hand and swallowed quickly as Harry pressed his lips to Draco's mouth.

"Always did like butterbeer," Harry said lazily, coming back for more. A swift look of determined guilt overcame his face. "Draco, I have a confession to make."

"Oh, let me guess," Draco grinned. "Your scar's a temporary tattoo." At the look of admonishment from Harry, he was quiet. "What is it, love?" he inquired, wrapping his arms neatly around Harry's midsection.

"I-I snogged Ron."

Anger and amusement battled for their place on Draco's face and Harry rushed to explain. As he spoke, Draco seethed. Abruptly, he smiled. Kissing Harry's nose lightly, he chuckled.

"Don't worry your silly little scarred head over it, dearest. You only did it to shut him up and get your way. I'll turn you into a Slytherin yet, my love!"

"So you're not angry?" Harry asked tentatively. In response, Draco kissed him vehemently. He surreptitiously repositioned Harry so that he straddled him in place of merely sitting on him. "Does that seem like I'm angry?" he breathed, resting his hands on Harry's hips. He chuckled and whispered, "There's so much more I could be doing to you right now. However!" Draco coughed the word and moved Harry over a bit, safely off his lap and onto the arm of the chair. "I'll have to respect your honour, I suppose, eh?"

Breathless, Harry forced a weak nod. He watched as Draco stood, extending a hand to him. As he lured Harry to his feet, Harry couldn't help but fleetingly wonder why Draco was so very accepting of his digression of trust. For a moment, he questioned Draco's motivation, but the maddening kiss he received upon being pressed against Draco on the dance floor soon rid the thoughts from his mind.

"Merry Christmas, Harry."

Harry was oddly welcomed into the Slytherin merrymaking. As it turned out, any friend of a Malfoy better be a friend of yours if you know what's good for you. And once Harry had a few more butterbeers and let slip his story of near Slytherin sorting, he was all the more accepted. While he had been kept possessively by Draco's side, Harry was passed on to Blaise Zabini for a sort of initiation conversation. Harry felt a bit like an article of clothing being passed down the line, but he focused his tipsy attention to Blaise.

"BLAISE! Hey, man, WHAT a party. I'm telling you, this is … " Harry made some sort of indicative gesture with his hands and sloshed a bit of his drink out of the cup. "Oh, for … sake. Well, good while it lasted, huh?"

"Yeah, it's some good stuff. So, what's this I hear about you and this Weasley wuss?"

Harry flared at the derogatory comment and slammed his cup down in drunken rage. "He is NOT a wuss! He is … a darn good friend." His fury faded in a satiated befuddlement. Peering into his cup, Harry frowned. Blaise pried the glass from his hand.

"Let me top that off, eh?" He dunked the cup into the large bowl and handed it, dripping and full, to Harry. Harry downed half of it in one gulp. "So anyway, what happened?"

Harry kicked back the rest of his butterbeer and paused for thought. As he was wavering, he planted a hand on the table to prevent what was sure to be an upturning of his body. "Ron was," he hiccoughed and shook his head. "Ron was whining about how I had to be," hiccough, "had to be bought and how I hadn't even considered him in my looking for love, so I kissed him and told him to sod off."

Blaise nodded. "Well, not to worry, there, Potter," he grinned. "I hear Malfoy's gone over there to sort things out with Weasley. Straighten him out, Malfoy will."

Harry immediately sobered. Even butterbeer could not cloud his senses of the impending doom his best friend faced. He swore, loudly, and dropped his empty cup. Blaise frowned at him and shouted for him to return, for as soon as the glass had clattered on the carpet of the common room floor, Harry had taken off running.

He bolted through the hallways, twisting and turning around corners and sliding along the floor when he took a corner too sharply. Past large, gnarled statues of ancient witches and wizards that lined the corridors and kept a watchful eye on the students he ran. So frantic in his desperation was Harry that he actually ran past the Fat Lady. Scampering back, he panted the password. She swung open and admitted Harry.

There, Draco, eyes glinting like ice sharp enough to slice through you, was glaring at Ron and slinging insults and muttered threats. Pale and collected, Draco stood, his arms crossed as he spoke low and dangerous. Ron, on the other hand, was red with fury. His fists were clenched tightly and his arms ramrod straight on either side of his stiff body. He fumed and smoke was veritably pouring out of his ears, as though he had made a meal of Pepperup Potion.

"Draco, let him alone. He did nothing. If you need to vent your anger, you come after me, NOT Ron." Harry sputtered, bracing his body on the portrait frame as drunken nausea crept up on him.

Draco's angry gaze flashed to Harry, who noted the calmness behind the fury. "I'm only giving him what he deserves, love; no more, no less." His tone was cool and slow.

"But he didn't DO anything!" Harry gasped. Draco's eyes flared, all flames stoked and not at all cold. He glared, focusing his fiery gaze on Harry as though tiny lasers were about to shoot out towards the still open portrait.

"Not directly. But clearly, he's driven you to some sort of insanity." His tone remained the same cool collected timbre. Ron seemed ready to burst with rage but unable to form words at the same time. He sputtered harmlessly as Harry pursed his lips to Draco's turning away. Draco's pale eyes had lost their heat and gone down to smouldering silver embers. He stared at Ron, ready to sling another rude epithet.

Suddenly, Ron exploded.

"I'VE DRIVEN HIM TO INSANITY! I THINK YOU'VE HAD A HAND IN THAT! HE DIDN'T JUST FALL OFF HIS ROCKER, YOU LIKELY GAVE HIM A RIGHT GOOD SHOVE! AND ALL I TRIED TO DO WAS ASK HIM A BLOODY QUESTION! HE'S THE ONE THAT SNOGGED MY BRAINS OUT!"

Both Draco and Harry blinked in great shock. Ron, freed now of his pent up anger and frustration, sighed and returned to a natural pinkish color. Unclenching his fists, he groaned a bit and turned, fleeing the common room for the more serene dormitory. Harry turned to see Draco leaning on the back of the couch, face in his hands, a tired air coming off his prone form. "I've turned into my father," he groaned.

Harry hesitated only a second and quickly crossed the room. Without further hindrance, he wrapped Draco in his arms and let him mutter his obscenities at his lineage. Harry regarded it as venting, but once Draco came down to his own branch of the family tree, Harry shushed him and allowed nothing more than murmuring. "You've not turned into your father yet, love." Harry kissed Draco's forehead and stepped back, glancing up the stairs. "I'll straighten Ron out, eh? He'll come round, I'm sure."

Harry immediately started towards the dormitory and turned back only when Draco called him. "How can you tell I've not turned into my father?" he inquired, fury and regret fading. A soft light played in his eyes and Harry grinned.

"Because you can tell when you've gone too far," he said simply. He turned again without looking back and missed the soft laugh from Draco.

Harry burst into the dormitory room without so much as a knock. "Look, Ron, I'm going to make this short and by no means sweet. I've bolloxed up and I know it. But you have no right to go around all pouty because I didn't fall in love with you. That's something I have no control over. And don't go complaining about how I'm not your friend anymore, because I'm not going to stop talking to you just because I've got myself a boyfriend. I'm in a happy relationship, and if you want to ruin this relationship because of that, fine. Now, I'm not saying what Draco did to you was right, but you've got to understand where he comes from. He's probably a little vulnerable right now and the least little thing is going to throw him off. Now, are you going to just sit there and glare at me, or are you going to get off your bum and come down to the party? Draco's invited us. Don't give me that face."

Ron glared for a second, then finally kicked the bedpost and threw his robes on. "Let's go, then."

And they did.

And I suppose they lived happily ever after.

That is, unless I write a sequel.