Investigation

It was a grueling effort. But, now, after weeks of intense research------ - if by intense research you mean openly ogling the subject of my little investigation --- ---I have reached my conclusion. But, first, the evidence.

Item one: the friendly big-brotherness. I'm willing to wager that every girl in Gryffindor and possibly Hufflepuff has or has had a crush on our local hero. It's nothing compared to my following, of course, but still decent. After all, inspiring the passions of every girl and almost every boy at Hogwarts is a tough record to beat. Not everyone can be a sex god like myself.

But, why do the girlies all love him so? I'd like you to repeat the title "local hero" in your mind and see if you can guess. Or, maybe even, "world-renowned, incredibly rich, shockingly good-looking hero." And if you still can't come up with a good answer, then leave before I turn your nose puce. I'll not be associating with ignorant peons.

Despite the plentiful advances of the female population, though, dear Harry retains the 'I'm-a-friendly-puppy-who-just-wants-to-be-everyone's-friend' demeanor. Oho, they must be so irritated. Insert smirk here.

I'm not saying all this for the sake of smugness, though. Well, not just for the sake of smugness. Smugness is only about...oh...ninety-five percent of my reason. That's pretty good, for a Slytherin. Especially one so exceptionally Slytherin-y as myself.

Harry's attitude is a highly relevant piece of information, you see. After all, how many red-blooded males do you see actually turning down a flock of adoring fans? Most of whom who would be willing to...um...well. Yes. Nevermind. I don't need any images of Harry with a girl. Or, you know, anyone other than me. Ones with me are fine. Those images are certainly welcome.

Right, well, enough of that. The point is, it's simply not natural for a straight guy to turn down girls who I suppose could be called attractive. But Harry does. So, put two and two together.

I always liked the number four.

Item two: broomsticks. Now, you mustn't get carried away with this particular piece of evidence. Not every Quidditch player in the world is a poof. A large number of them, maybe, but not all. There are exceptions to every rule.

So, maybe I'm not exactly the straight Quidditch player poster-child, but trust me on this. I've hit on...er, that is, I've been hit on by enough of them to tell that a large majority swing that way, if you get my meaning.

In any case, Harry isn't your normal player, even taking the exceptionally high rate of homosexuality into account. Sure, we all like keeping our equipment in top form, and getting in enough practice to win a game or two, but he seems to take a special pleasure in it. The way he's always polishing his broom handle...

Good lord. I wouldn't be surprised to see him licking it some day.

Hmm. Licking. Wait. Waaait. Licking. Licking. Er.

Please excuse me for just a moment while I compose myself.

...

Bloody hell. Brooms must be the biggest phallic symbols in the wizarding world.

Ah, that is...um...anyways, his pride seems a bit over the top. Maybe he's just more obsessed with Quidditch than I'd thought. I suppose there must someone out there who loves the sport with such a ridiculously single-minded devotion. I just hope it isn't Harry. I rather prefer my theory.

I wonder if there's ever been a Broom-magus? Ponder.

Item three: sensitivity. Not to say that straight men are incapable of sensitivity, they just suck at it.

Harry, however, is Mr. Good Listener. Have a weepy story? Talk to Harry. Troubles with the old boy-toy? Talk to Harry. Want to seduce the Gryffindor seeker by acting all helpless and in distress? Talk to him and die. I know some interesting curses which involve death by spoons.

It's not that I'm jealous or possessive or anything. I just don't like the other children to touch my toys. Mine mine mine.

Harry isn't petty at all, though. Not to say that I am, of course. I just happened to think of petty in relation to my behavior. Pure coincidence. That is, not counting that time that I made Millicent Bulstrode's already large and disgusting hand swell to the size of a bludger for touching one of the sweets my mother had sent me. Or when I set Blaise's cat on fire because he moved my quills. Or...

Right. Back to the point. Girls seem to actually trust him for some reason. True, he's probably the most trustworthy person in the school (including and especially Dumbledore, the crafty old bastard), but it's not healthy to confide in someone so much. At least, not when you aren't significantly attached to each other. Which none of them are. Or ever will be.

Spoons.

Item four: painful sexiness. If Harry Potter is that insanely sexy and is not gay, then something is terribly wrong with the world. Terribly, terribly wrong.

My conclusion? Harry Potter is quite possibly the gayest person I've ever met. Or even seen from a distance. Every now and then I half expect him to start singing show tunes and dancing to class. He probably adores rainbows, the great poof.

And what does this all mean for me? Simply that making him love me will be that much easier. I could have done it, in any case, being me, you know, but this gives me more leisure to enjoy it.

I wonder what it takes to make him blush.

This is going to be fun.