Believe in me

Believe in me

Chapter Five

Are you all right?

It's just a shock, that's all. I don't know what to say.

You don't have to say anything.

How did...?

Does it matter?

Yes.

Why?

I need some answers, everything is such a mess, I just need to know, so we can move on.... Get back to normal. Please tell me.

But I don't really know where to begin....

How about the beginning?

Okay, but this is going to take a while....

I don't mind. I'll be here as long as it takes. I'm not going anywhere.

Promise?

*

Harry sat on his large four-poster bed, quill in hand, ink and parchment balancing neatly on the ruby red bed covers. The curtains surrounding the bed were closed and Harry only had the light at the tip of his wand to guide his words, but it was enough.

He dipped the pointed nib of the quill in shimmering black ink and tried to keep the scratching sound of quill on parchment to a minimum so as not to wake the other boys, all in deep untroubled sleep.

Harry knew he wouldn't get a peaceful night's sleep until he wrote this, so he wrote.

I can just image your face when you receive this letter. Even before its finished I can tell its going to be long because I have so much to say to you, and we both know how bad I am at articulating what I feel. Still, I have to try.

I can't stop thinking about you. I realise how corny that sounds, but it doesn't make it any less true. Every moment that my mind isn't occupied I'm remembering your touch and your kiss. Every time I see you and can't come up and kiss you I have to let my thoughts act out the scene for me, otherwise I think I might forget how it feels to be with you.

Nothing else seems to matter when I'm with you, because none of it exists. There's just you and me, and the rest of the world is a distraction that we're keen to ignore.

But, (you knew there was going to be a 'but' didn't you. You know me better than I know myself sometimes) I can't stop feeling scared. Scared of how I feel, what we're doing, what everyone's going to say when they find out, because they will find out one day. It could be tomorrow, in a week, a month, a year, ten years, it doesn't matter when it happens, it will still happen and their reaction will still be the same.

If I told you all this to your face you'd find some clever way of making me forget, and for a while I would and we'd be okay, and then when we parted, I'd remember, and nothing will have changed. That's why I'm writing to you I think. Not because it needs to be said, but because I need to say it, just so it's out there.

I know that there isn't an answer, not really. There's nothing you can say to make this go away. The only thing that can make these thoughts disappear would be if everyone knew, and they all accepted it and didn't care. I think we both know that that's never going to happen.

I just read that back to myself and I realised something. I keep calling whatever's going on between us 'it'. I guess that's because I don't know what else to call it, (you're smiling, I can tell).

We've been together for nearly two months now. That sounds so much like I'm calling us a couple, but I suppose that's what we are, in a way....

Two months. That's a long time to keep up a charade.... Well, it would be if we weren't both so used to doing it. I don't know how long you've been pretending to be someone you're not, to be honest I don't know if you have ever pretended. Maybe you just don't let anyone in completely.

Except for me. I feel like I know you better than anyone. I don't think anyone has ever known you like I do, and I know that you know me better than anyone else, you have done for a long time.

I put up a front, I won't deny it, there's no point. But somehow you can see straight through it, you always have done. When my best friends couldn't see what I was feeling, you still could. You know how I feel, what I dream, what I think, all without me saying a word. And you're not afraid to confront me with it, not afraid I'll break.

I don't think I could have gotten through this year without you, I would have snapped within a week. You've kept me sane, kept me grounded. You made my life bearable again.

I don't know what I'm trying to say to you. Thank you?

In a way I guess I am, but thank you doesn't quite seem adequate enough, doesn't feel quite right. It doesn't matter though, because as soon as you've read this letter you'll be able to make sense of it. You'll know what I'm trying to say even if I don't.

That's why we work so well together. We fit.

Thinking of you.

XxX H XxX

Harry finished of by scrawling an H at the bottom of the parchment. They never used each other's names. It was too risky. He posted the letter first thing in the morning, so as to be sure that Draco would receive it before his roommates were up, and he promptly received a reply during breakfast in the Great Hall.

The response was much lighter than Harry's own letter had been. He opened the envelope and smiled at Draco's four-word response.

I love you too.

D XxX

*

Harry made his way to the seventh floor corridor on a Friday evening, just as he had been doing for the last eight weeks. Promptly at nine every Friday and Monday Harry left the Gryffindor Common room and headed to the 'dungeons' for 'Occlumency lessons' with 'Snape'.

Harry wished he could say he felt bad or guilty about lying to his friends, but the truth was, there was no part of the week he looked forward to more than these secret meetings with Draco in their own secret room away from prying and judging eyes, and it was very hard to feel bad or guilty about something he loved so much.

Truth be told, Harry didn't just looked forward to meeting Draco for the obvious reasons. He looked forward to the escape. The escape of his friends' supposedly subtle glances of worry, the constant tiptoeing around the topic of Voldemort's latest attack, and their obvious aversion of mentioning Sirius.

Hermione hadn't mentioned the argument that she and Harry had had nearly two months ago now. They seemed to have come to some sort of silent agreement that it was forgotten and at least partly forgiven, for now at least.

Still, Harry felt distanced from everyone else. Only Draco knew that he felt like this, and in only Draco had Harry confided that if it weren't for these escapes together, the bitterness of life would have driven him mad by now.

Harry had reached the Room of Requirement. He hadn't spoken to Draco since their exchange of notes a couple of days ago, and for some reason that Harry couldn't quite put his finger on, he felt nervous about tonight. Everything was the same, but somehow felt different, more significant.

He reached into his robes and pulled out a piece of parchment. Slightly crumpled, but obviously recent, the words shone out of the page in black ink that seemed to have a silver sparkle.

I love you

That was what was new. Love. They had never said it, but both seemed to know it. To say it, write it, to tell love was to make it real. And that's how it felt to Harry now. Real.

He smiled and put the parchment away, then twisted the door handle to enter the familiar room's setting of a home away from home.

Draco was already there, and from the looks of it, had been for a while. This was normal. Draco was most often the first of them to arrive; it was easier for him to get away. No one dared question where Draco was going, and his response of 'I want to be alone' to the few who did dare ask, was not unusual it seemed. Draco liked his privacy.

The blonde was stretched out on the quilted bed, lights dimmed and soft music playing from the stereo. The player was obviously magical as there were no speakers to be seen and the music seemed to eradiate from all around the room. Harry knew from previous experiences with the system that the volume of the music adjusted to the mood of the occupants within a 100-metre radius.

So even if Harry couldn't see Draco's tranquil form on the bed, the mellifluous sound of the music would have been an indication to the other boy's mood.

Draco sat up and smiled as Harry came in, closing the door gently behind him.

"Hi," Draco said as Harry walked over and sat down on the bed next to the blonde, greeting him with a soft but lingering kiss on the lips.

"Hi," Harry replied grinning, "Have you been here long?"

"Half an hour maybe," Draco replied, shifting over on the bed slightly so that Harry could sit next to him, "I didn't feel like sticking around in the common room, Crabbe and Goyle were about to have a pie eating contest. Not a pretty sight."

"Why do you hang around with those two?" Harry asked exasperatedly, "I mean, between them they have more blubber than a baby whale and a brain the size of a sardine."

"Why do you hang around with Weasel and the Mudbl... Granger?" Draco said, correcting his terminology as he saw the glare coming from Harry's direction.

"They're my friends. Can you say the same?" Harry said.

"Who needs friends when you've got minions?" Draco said playfully, although Harry knew this was Draco's way of getting of topic. He hated talking about his 'other' life, as it were.

Harry had tried to get Draco to talk to him about it once, and Draco had given him a reply that had convinced Harry to relent on the subject.

"It doesn't matter what my life is like, who my friends are, what my family is, all that matters is that when I'm with you, I can forget about it for a while. Isn't that enough?"

Harry had decided that it was enough for now, and he stuck to his promise to not talk about it again. In order to change topic he fished out the note once again.

"Thanks for my letter," he said, trying to not make it obvious that he couldn't quite meet Draco's gaze whilst talking about the note.

"Did you like it? Simple and straight to the point, actually saying what it meant," Draco asked grinning, referring to Harry's rather long and eventually inconclusive letter.

"Yeah, I liked it," Harry replied, matching Draco's smile, "Sorry about mine. I guess I got carried away."

"I liked it," Draco said honestly, "It wouldn't have seemed like it had come from you if you had actually said what you meant, besides, I always know what you're trying to say."

"That is a handy talent of yours," Harry said, interlacing Draco's fingers with his own, looking only at their thoroughly entwined hands, "I do you know," he said quietly.

"What?" Draco asked, although they both knew that Draco didn't need to be told what Harry wanted to say, he was just going to make him say it.

"Love you," Harry said, smiling as he spoke the words that he had never said to anyone before, not even a parent.

"I know you do," Draco said, lifting Harry's chin with his free hand so he could gaze into Harry's hypnotic green eyes, "and you know I love you."

Draco and Harry leaned in simultaneously to kiss. Their kiss deepened as Harry allowed Draco to enter his mouth with his tongue and Draco pulled Harry closer still. They were lost in each other, but Harry still felt the need to be closer, and he wasn't afraid anymore. He knew what he wanted.

Harry rolled over so that he was straddling Draco across the hips, never once breaking their lips. Draco lay back on the bed, surprised by Harry's suddenly decisive action. Draco was usually the one who took control of the situation, who was always sure of what to do, how far to go. Harry kissed Draco fervently and smiled as he felt Draco wrap his legs around his thighs and pull them tightly together.

Harry could feel Draco pushing against him and he felt like his blood was boiling, coursing desperately through his veins. It was certainly rushing places that were away from his head.

Draco put an arm around Harry's shoulders and pulled the green-eyed boy down on top of him. Harry moved his kiss away from Draco's lips to his cheek, moving slowly down until he was caressing the unblemished skin just above Draco's shoulder blade.

Harry inhaled Draco's scent as his tongue and lips danced with the flavour of passionate sweat. Harry heard Draco moan underneath him, completely lost in Harry's touch and kiss, but only a split second later Draco somehow managed to regain control and turn the positioning around.

Harry was suddenly underneath Draco, being sat on in an extroverted fashion. Harry could feel intensity inside of him that had never been there before, and being so close to an obviously aroused Draco just added to Harry's confident actions. He sat up so abruptly that both his and Draco's legs were still entwined as they were suddenly nose to nose, their erections pressing hard against each other. For a second they paused, but moments later Harry and Draco were once again locked at the lips.

They pulled at each other's ties, eventually removing them through laughs and kisses and Draco captured Harry forcefully, yanking at his shirt to once again plant a powerful kiss on the lips of the boy who lived.

For a split second they broke apart to catch their breath and looked into each other's eyes. Both were panting hard and could feel their hearts hammering in their chests as their veins pumped with adrenaline.

"Someone's excited," Draco said gasping and grinning.

"Speak for yourself!" Harry panted back.

"I was," Draco said laughing.

Harry laughed again, and then they looked at each other. They didn't need words to know that they both wanted the same thing, and in the blink of an eye they were kissing again, fumbling with each other's shirt buttons at the same time.

Somewhere along the way Harry lost his glasses and the covers got knocked to the floor. Clothes were shed, a mere inconvenience to the sudden need to feel bare skin against skin. So many details of the night were lost in a haze, but Harry would never forget how Draco felt underneath him, on top of him, by his side and completely united with him: mind, body and heart.

It was early in the morning when they both woke up. Harry's head was resting peacefully in the nook between Draco's neck and shoulder. Draco had an arm wrapped lazily around Harry's firm torso and was in prime position to kiss Harry's ear. They had been awake for a while, just enjoying the unimaginable bliss of just being together.

"Are we gay?" Harry asked sounding genuinely curious as he broke the peaceful silence.

"The term you're looking for is homosexual," Draco corrected smiling, "and considering our current positioning, I think that's a fairly stupid question."

He had a point. They were lying completely entangled in sweat soaked sheets, their naked bodies entwined together, impossible to tell whose limb belonged to whom.

Harry smiled and Draco's response.

"I just meant, is it that I love you no matter what gender you are because I love you, or am I actually gay, you know? Guys forever."

"I think that there is an easy way to decided this," Draco said certainly, "just ask yourself one simple question. Who were you drooling over in 'Lord of the Rings'? Liv Tyler or Orlando Bloom?"

Harry thought about this for a moment, but came up with his response fairly quickly.

"I'm gay," he sighed, but he was grinning.

"Well that makes two of us then," Draco said matching Harry's expression and snuggling up even closer.

"Is Orlando Bloom gay?" Harry said quizzically.

"I don't know," Draco replied thoughtfully, "but in my head he's done some pretty gay stuff."

Harry laughed.

"I thought I was the only guy in your dreams," he said mocking a pout.

"Oh don't worry," said Draco, grinning mischievously, "you're there too."

At this, both boys went into fits of laughter.

"When did you get to see Lord of the Rings anyway? I mean, I only saw it because Hermione dragged me over the summer and Uncle Vernon was too scared to say no to her," Harry asked eventually.

"Wizards have movies too you know," Draco said indignantly, although he was still smiling.

"Really?" Harry said slightly amazed, "Wizards watch Muggle movies?"

"Oh come on," Draco said in disbelief, "you can't honestly believe that those movies were made without any magical assistance? Look at those special effects!! Take that dragon shaped firework for example. I believe that was a special order product from Weasley's Wizards Wheezes.

Of course," Draco added thoughtfully, "not all wizards like watching Muggle movies, especially ones to do with magic. How they come up with some of the stuff in their films I'll never know, but 'Lord of the Rings'? That's a classic, we couldn't let the Muggles totally butcher the story with some corny plastic models of Orcs, and so we lent a helping hand."

Harry shook his head in amazement.

"Just when I think I've gotten this world all figured out, something comes along and kicks out the foundations," Harry said, "I was under the impression that Muggles knew nothing about magic."

"Then you've been ignoring some pretty obvious signs," Draco said, "Of course some Muggles know, they have to. I mean, the number of Muggle-borns in Hogwarts? All their parents must know, and probably some other family members. Do you think Hermione lies to everyone she meets outside of school? Plus there's the Prime Minister, and a few directors and actors, most church leaders, after all, how can they discriminate against something they don't believe in?"

"You've speculated about this a lot haven't you?" Harry said amused.

"Perhaps a little more than is healthy, yeah," Draco admitted with a smile.

"Well done by the way," Harry added.

"For what?"

"Saying Muggle-born and calling 'Mione by her real name."

"Did I?"

"You did."

"Shit. You must be having some kind of semi-good influence on me Potter. Quick, do something raunchy before I start preaching or something."

Harry laughed.

"Gladly," he said and kissed Draco full on the lips for what was probably the hundredth time that night, moving his kisses slowly down Draco's body, smiling as he could feel Draco's surges of pleasure underneath him.

A few hours later, the pair were walking slowly down to the Great Hall for breakfast, excuses all planned and ready to be delivered with a convincingness that can only come with practice, a thought that shook Harry slightly, but dissolved as Draco's arm slid casually round his waist.

"You got Quidditch practice this morning?" Draco asked as they walked.

"Not till this afternoon," Harry said, "but I've got that Potions essay to write for Snape," he added unenthusiastically.

"Need some help?" Draco asked.

"Well, yeah, I'd love some help.... But how would we explain that one away? I mean, I've been gone all night; I can't exactly not turn up this morning. I think Hermione's getting suspicious. She keeps looking at me funny, like she knows I'm not telling her something.... its creepy."

"I didn't say anything about hiding, I meant in the library, in full public view for anyone who cares enough to look. It's easily explained. We'll say that because we're the only two in the class, Snape has paired us up to make a potion and I'm making sure that you don't screw up my chances at getting an 'O' for the project," explained Draco as if it were the most simplistic plan in the world.

"No one is going to believe that!!" Harry exclaimed.

"Of course they will," Draco said confidently, "what else are they going to think if we both say the same thing? That we're are madly in love and just spent the whole night secretly pleasuring each other? Ask yourself which is the more plausible scenario?"

There really was no answer to that Harry concluded, and so he agreed to meet Draco in the library after breakfast.

Harry had told Hermione and Ron that he was going to study in the library that morning, there was really no point in lying when he didn't have to, he just hoped that they didn't decide to come and find him after their morning together.

Harry couldn't help but feel nervous as he walked into the library. He was used to being stared at, but as well known as Draco was, Harry knew that people generally avoided looking in his direction, unless they wanted to start a fight.

Harry grinned at his own thought as he realised one thing. There was only one person Draco ever fought with over a look in the wrong direction, and for the last two months, that had all been pretence.

He took a deep breath as he scanned the almost empty library. He was early, and Draco hadn't even arrived yet. Only a few students sat at the round tables that filled the spaces between impossibly high bookshelves, all studying hard obviously unhappy with the prospect of spending their weekend catching up with homework. There probably wasn't another person in the school who could sympathise with them as much as Harry could.... Well, perhaps Ron, Harry thought with a grin.

Harry sat down at a table in the corner by the window and took out his books, parchment and ink. No sooner was he ready to start did Draco arrive and casually slide into the chair opposite Harry.

"Ready Potter?" he said in a friendly tone, even though he was using Harry's last name.

"As I'll ever be Malfoy," Harry replied in the same manner.

For two and a half hours they worked uninterrupted, Draco explaining what Harry didn't understand and eventually pulling up a chair so he was sitting right by Harry's side, able to read what Harry's was writing and correct his grammar and spelling with a simple correction charm.

For a while Harry had found it rather difficult to concentrate with Draco sitting so tantalisingly close, their knees touching occasionally and Draco's hair brushing past his face when the blonde lent over to point out an error. However, as eleven 'o' clock approached, the essay was completed and Harry had actually easily spilled several inches over the minimum requirement.

It was true that as the library filled up there had been a few glances in the couple's direction, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. Most of them seemed to be double takes of disbelief, a couple of people's looks lingered a little longer though, especially when they saw Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy not only talking together, but laughing together as well. No one actually approached them, as they seemed to be getting along well (they couldn't see quite how well of course!).

One person did spot them however, just as Harry finished his essay, and walked over and sat down at the table with both boys.

"Not being very stealthy are you?" Wood teased, rising disobliging on both the boys faces.

"We're doing homework," Harry said truthfully.

"Really," Wood said putting on a voice of interest, "when I was at school here we did sex education, but our homework was never to go out and practice it. Perhaps I should re-enrol, sounds like a good class to take, you know, just so long as it isn't one you I have to grope under the table."

There was a loud thud that echoed through the library as Harry and Draco both moved apart at an alarming speed, both crashing into opposite table legs.

Wood laughed, his objective obviously achieved.

Harry had come to appreciate having Oliver Wood back at Hogwarts more than he could have imagined. More than once Wood had gotten both him and Draco out of close scrapes with friends and teachers, usually with an outright lie about extra 'Quidditch' practice.

It was true that Draco and Wood didn't see eye to eye on many occasions. Wood had maintained that Harry should be wary of Draco, that Slytherin's weren't to be trusted, especially Malfoy's, but then one month passed and now two, and they were still together. Wood had gotten to know Draco as a student, and was gradually easing up on him as a person; after all, they did have a lot in common, namely ancient Wizarding families, a disturbing sense of humour and of course, Quidditch.

Draco had been training as a Chaser in lessons, and eventually everyone had to admit that he was amazing on a broom. Harry was fast and basically a natural Seeker, impossible to beat. Draco had since admitted that he only wanted to play Seeker to get one over on Harry (and despite their being an item, still fully intended to do so!), but as a Chaser, Draco had such amazing grace and agility. He could dodge, pass, feint and fly all in perfect unison, and the extra training Wood had agreed to give him was only helping.

"Relax you two, I just wanted to ask you something," Wood said grinning.

"What do you want?" Harry said suspiciously.

"You know Harry, I could take points off for that blatant assumption that I want something from you. I am a teacher now after all, and I am here on my Saturday off purely to observe your Quidditch training, a little respect please," Wood said in his best 'holier than thou' tone.

"What do you want?" Draco said.

"Kids today, no respect," Wood said sighing but grinning at the same time, "alright," he said, "I was wondering what you two had planned for Samhain?"

"Huh?" Harry said, completely lost all of a sudden.

"Same old, same old I guess. Dumbledore isn't too keen on celebrating the old rituals so it'll just be the usual cotton candy fest," Draco said, clearly not confused at all, "Why? What else is there we can do?"

"Well, you're both sixth years now, so you're allowed into Hogsmeade for the evening, providing you've got genuine plans for the holiday and aren't just planning to just get drunk in the Three Broomsticks, because believe me, you'll get caught!

Anyway, I was wondering if you'd both like to come to a party that Meghan has organised. She's flying down for a couple of weeks for the holidays. There's going to be a load of Quidditch players there, a good chance to make some connections. You're both outstanding players, might be useful if you want to make a career out of it. At least that's the excuse we'll use to get you out of school," Wood said with a mischievous grin.

Harry briefly marvelled at how this boy had passed so many exams and become a teacher; it just defied the laws of nature.

"Are you serious?" Draco exclaimed, "That'd be so cool, can we really get away with it?"

"Sure," Wood said, then he changed to a serious note, "Look, I know that I've been a little unsure about you two, but any idiot can see that your both besotted with each other...." He trailed off briefly, as he tended to do just before he went off on a tangent, and sure enough, "well, not any idiot obviously, because not even Hermione has noticed you two sneaking off at every given opportunity, and what's even more amazing is that Dumbledore doesn't even seem to,"

"Wood!" Harry interrupted, knowing that wood could talk for hours given the chance.

"Yes?" Wood asked as if Harry hadn't just stopped him in mid flow.

"What's Samhain?" Harry asked, still completely lost as to what was going on.

"Don't you know?" Draco asked stupidly, receiving only a look of bewilderment from Harry, "Right, you probably don't do you...."

Harry looked to Wood for more of a clarification.

"Halloween," Wood explained simply with a wide grin that couldn't possibly mean anything good.