Work Text
He couldn’t take it anymore. He was going to go mad; it was like sixth year all over again. Harry wouldn’t say he was stalking Malfoy, per se… But Ron and Hermione probably would say that. Malfoy would probably say it, too.He’d intended to ignore him this year. He was going to come back to school, focus on his studies, and have a nice, peaceful final year at Hogwarts. He was sure Malfoy felt the same. He was done with fighting, and so why should they need to speak at all? That was the plan, at least.That all changed the night Harry walked into what was supposed to be an empty classroom and found Malfoy with his cock down the throat of another Slytherin boy.Harry had frozen, not understanding what he was seeing at first. Malfoy was breathing heavily with his eyes closed and his head tilted back, knuckles white as he gripped the desk behind him. Harry didn’t even see the other boy between his legs at first. He didn’t know what he thought Malfoy was doing. When he saw it, though, the thick head of curls bobbing up and down—short enough that they could only belong to a bloke, he’d gasped. Out loud.What happened next happened both in a blur and in slow motion. Harry couldn’t say if it had taken place over milliseconds or hours. What happened was this:Malfoy’s eyes snapped open and locked with Harry’s, and he felt his blood run cold. Malfoy’s eyes were wide and his face was flushed. Clearly, the other boy hadn’t heard Harry, because he kept moving—Harry could hear the slurping sounds. Malfoy had obviously been in shock, because he made no move to stop the boy, and his eyes stayed trained on Harry. The boy must have done something particularly amazing with his tongue, because Malfoy shuddered and his eyes squeezed shut, hands reaching out to bury themselves in the boy’s hair, and Harry heard the faintest grunt. Harry turned around and ran out of the classroom.He made it back to his dorm in record time, heart and mind racing. Had that really just happened? Malfoy liked blokes? How had he not realized sooner? And why did it bother him so much?Harry didn’t know what to do. He’d never thought of himself as homophobic before, but with the way his guts twisted when he thought back to what he’d seen in the classroom, he couldn’t find any other explanation. Harry felt sick. He felt disgusted with himself. How could he? He knew homophobia was wrong, but he felt a little like vomiting whenever he thought of Malfoy’s blissed-out face. Merlin, what was he supposed to do?He couldn’t go to Ron and Hermione with his problem, because they were good people and they would never associate with a homophobe. He’d lose his two best friends. He resolved that he would fix the problem on his own. Harry had thought he was a decent person, before this. He’d thought he was accepting of everyone, but clearly, he had issues to work on.He thought back to Uncle Vernon, ranting about freaks and queers and anyone who was different his whole life. Harry had felt disgusted whenever he heard him talk down on others like that. Harry himself had been different. Was it possible that Vernon’s morals had seeped through and infiltrated Harry’s mind? Was he just like his uncle?That night, he tossed and turned and hardly slept a wink, his guilty conscience keeping him up, as well as the daunting task that lay ahead of him, seeing as he didn’t actually know how to cure homophobia. He didn’t even know where to start.At breakfast the next morning, Malfoy didn’t meet his eye—not that Harry was watching him. He just happened to notice that he kept his head down and moved the food on his plate around with his fork. He sat between Parkinson and Zabini, and a few seats down was the boy from the night before, whom Harry now recognized as Theodore Nott. Nott was sort of handsome, Harry supposed—tall, with dark eyes and a strong jawline. Harry had never particularly noticed the boy before, but now that he did, he couldn’t help but dislike him, a little, though he didn’t really have a reason to. Harry realized with a start that this was his homophobia speaking again. How had he never noticed this about himself before? He suddenly did not have an appetite at all.Hermione nudged him kindly. “You okay, Harry?”“Yeah,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes down and feeling even more guilty. He didn’t deserve kindness, not from her, not now. Not until he sorted this out.Hermione looked at him sympathetically for a moment before deciding to leave him be, understanding he wasn’t in a sharing mood. He felt both overwhelmingly grateful and undeserving to have her as a friend at once. He frowned harder and sat quietly for the rest of breakfast, trying to figure out how to rid himself of his problem.He was still pondering this as he walked to his first class, charms—which he shared with Malfoy. As he entered the classroom and watched Malfoy immediately divert his eyes from him, he realized what he had to do. To reverse the damage of his homophobia, he would be nice to Draco Malfoy.As he walked past his desk, he mustered his Gryffindor courage and made his voice as cheery as possible. “Malfoy,” he greeted. Malfoy’s head snapped up and Harry smiled at him. Malfoy looked confused and faintly horrified at the greeting. Harry’s smile turned into a grimace at the look he received back. Okay, so that hadn’t worked. Was it possible that Malfoy knew what Harry had been thinking about? Or, he realized, was it more possible that the two shared a history of years of animosity and it made no sense for Harry to suddenly treat him like a friend? Yeah, that was probably it.Harry would have to be a little more subtle in his kindness, at least at first. And then he could start making it up to Malfoy in bigger ways.From then on, Harry made a point to nod at Malfoy in greeting when they passed each other in hallways—if Malfoy was looking his way. He also smiled at him across the Great Hall at meals when they met each other’s eye. Okay, maybe he wasn’t being subtle, but he really didn’t know any other way to go about it. It wasn’t working. In fact, it was more likely backfiring horribly. The more Harry tried to be kind to Malfoy, the more suspicious and uncomfortable he seemed. It had been days, and Harry didn’t feel any better. And he still felt sort of bitter when he saw Nott sit by Malfoy in class. Gods, was Harry getting worse? This was a disaster.Harry started watching the map so he would run into Malfoy more often, to practice being nice to him. But any time he was near Malfoy, his stomach got twisty and his palms started to sweat, and he felt a little lightheaded. Merlin, was he really scared of the bloke? Just because he was gay?This couldn’t go on any longer. Being nice obviously wasn’t working. He was feeling worse every day, and Malfoy never looked happy to see him. He had to confront the issue head-on, even if the thought made him want to vomit.He was lying in his bed one night and decided to check the map. He sat up with a start when he saw that Malfoy was out of his dorm, wandering the hallway, alone. Harry didn’t have time to wonder what he was doing out there. He leapt out of bed and ran to follow, heart pounding and stomach fluttering anxiously as he went. He followed the map down the corridor. Malfoy’s dot had stopped moving, and Harry was getting closer. Harry rounded the corner, expecting to see the other boy right there, but to his surprise, there was no one. He should have been right there. Suddenly, a pair of hands grasped him firmly and shoved him into an empty classroom. He stumbled in, and Malfoy followed, closing the door behind him and grabbing Harry roughly.“What are you playing at, Potter?” Malfoy sneered, pinning Harry to the wall, eyes full of fury. His wand was pointed at Harry’s throat. He gulped.Harry stared back, eyes wide. “I—”“You’ve been following me again. Smirking at me. I know you saw that night, I know . And you’ve been acting strange ever since, so just tell me now what you’re planning,” Malfoy growled.“I don’t— I’m not —”“Rubbish,” Malfoy spat. He was so, so angry. But behind it, there was a hint of… fear? “If you’re not planning something, then why are you here? Why are you following me?”The wand at his throat dug into the flesh slightly, making Harry wince. He deserved it, he supposed. But when Malfoy saw him flinch, he seemed to lose some of his steam. He backed off slightly, still not looking at ease, but not quite so full of rage. He should be mad, though, Harry thought. He was right about him. “I— I wanted to talk… to you,” Harry finally said, lamely, staring at his feet.“What.”“About—” Harry couldn’t make himself say it.“About what you saw, the other day?” He seemed amused, then. He walked away from Harry, leaning casually against a desk. “What, is the Saviour here to tell me it’s okay to be gay?”Harry tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Miserably, he ripped his eyes away from the floor and forced himself to meet Malfoy’s eyes. Slowly, Harry shook his head, and Malfoy’s blonde eyebrows drew together.“What, then?”Harry took a deep breath and started to pace. “I think I’m homophobic.”Malfoy reared back, jumping further away from Harry. He stared at him in shock for a moment, both of them frozen, not breathing. His expression was guarded, but he looked hurt, and scared, again. Harry felt awful.“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered thickly, feeling so ashamed.Malfoy looked puzzled, then. “You’re sorry ?”“Yeah,” Harry explained. He felt tears pricking at his eyes. “I swear, I don’t want to be— I don’t mean to. I didn’t even know that I was until I saw— er— until I, well… y’know .”“You’re sorry,” he repeated again.“Yes. ”Malfoy looked even more bewildered. “Potter, homophobic people don’t come to a poof and beg for forgiveness. I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think you’re homophobic.” He was even laughing a little. Did he not understand?“No, Malfoy, I— I am. ” His voice broke on the last word, his throat threatening to close up at the admission.“Potter,” Malfoy said, very slowly, “How, exactly, did you feel when you saw us, the other night?”Harry felt his face turn bright red at the memory. He brought a hand up to the back of his neck and couldn’t meet Malfoy’s eyes. This reaction should be plenty proof that he was homophobic—too uncomfortable at the memory to speak. Malfoy, luckily, didn’t make him answer. Harry didn’t even know what he would say.Finally, Malfoy spoke again. “You don’t want to hit me?”Harry’s head snapped up in shock and confusion. “No.” “You won’t tell the whole school? Make them laugh at me?”Harry was shaking his head fervently. Why would he do that? “Of course not.”“Don’t want to hurt me? Kick me? Spit on me? Call me slurs?”“No, Malfoy, Merlin!” Harry was aghast. Of course, he didn’t want to hurt Malfoy. He was here to ask for forgiveness. To learn to be better.“You’re not homophobic,” Malfoy said finally.Harry’s eyebrows furrowed together. Of course he was. It was the only possible explanation for his reaction to what he’d seen. For his unexplainable dislike of Theodore Nott. For the itchy sensation on his palms when he got too close to Draco Malfoy.Malfoy searched Harry’s face for a moment, and Harry felt strangely exposed. He wondered, briefly, if Draco was a Legilimens. Something crossed over Malfoy’s face, and Harry didn’t know what to make of it, until—“You liked it,” Malfoy breathed.Harry sputtered. “I— no, what? Malfoy, are you even listening to me? I’m trying to apologi—”Malfoy cut him off with a snort. “You did. ”Harry gaped at him. He found that words failed him at the moment so he just shook his head.Suddenly, Malfoy’s entire demeanor had transformed. “Are you trying to say you didn’t want to watch?”Harry was breathing a little hard, through his mouth. He nodded. Of course he hadn’t wanted to watch. For one, that was private. It had been an accident. And Harry had left the moment he’d remembered he had legs.There was something dangerous in the way Malfoy was looking at him, the edge of his mouth curled faintly into a smirk.“Is that so?” Malfoy drawled, voice smooth and velvety, arching an eyebrow.Harry stared at him for a moment. “Yes,” he said, but it came out a little breathless. He cleared his throat and frowned, and Malfoy’s smirk deepened. Harry didn’t like it.There wasn’t a trace left of the brooding darkness that had filled Malfoy’s features moments earlier. Now he looked perfectly composed and in control as he took a few steps closer to Harry, who backed up in return, nearly reaching the wall.“And you’re not… curious?” Malfoy murmured. “What it’d feel like?”Harry couldn’t imagine what his face looked like at that moment. His mouth flapped for a second like he was going to speak, but it was as though he’d forgotten how.Draco tsked. “Such a shame,” Malfoy’s voice sounded bored but his eyes had a spark behind them. “It feels so good .”Harry gasped and Malfoy’s gaze turned predatory. Was it really warm in this classroom? Harry felt like he was going to start sweating.Malfoy stepped even closer and Harry felt the cold wall press against his back. There was nowhere he could go. “Why did you really follow me in here, Potter, hm? Hoping to get another show?” His voice was low and amused. Harry’s eyes widened and he felt his cheeks flush.“No,” he insisted. Malfoy didn’t look convinced. But he also didn’t look angry.“Right.” Malfoy was even closer to him now—he could feel his warm breath fanning over his face. Harry tried to suppress a shudder, and Malfoy’s eyes lit up when he didn’t quite succeed. “You don’t want to see me flushed and panting, hands tangled in Nott’s hair.”Harry’s stomach lurched at the image this conjured in his mind. Unease twisted at his insides, but it was tinged with something else, too.Malfoy smirked. “I asked you a question, Potter.”Though it hadn’t really been a question, it had been a statement, Harry swallowed, mouth suddenly very dry, and croaked, “No.”Malfoy chuckled softly, then continued, murmuring, “Don’t wanna see me come down his throat, on his lips, all over his face? Sink to my knees and return the favor? I saw your face, Potter. I know what disgust looks like, and that wasn’t it. Was it?” Malfoy didn’t make Harry respond this time, just kept talking, and Harry was helpless to do anything but listen. “Never thought about it, late at night, when everyone else has gone to sleep? Never slipped a hand under the covers imagining it? Brought yourself to the brink from the memory?” Harry jolted. Malfoy’s pupils were blown wide and his cheeks were pink, and he was panting slightly. “Bet you did. Bet you wished you’d stayed quiet so we didn’t hear you. I know you have an invisibility cloak—you’ve used it to spy on me before. What’s stopping you from using it again? Watching me in my dorm?”Harry licked his lips and Malfoy’s eyes tracked the movement hungrily.Malfoy leaned in, bringing his lips to Harry’s ear. “None of this sounds appealing to you?” Goosebumps erupted as his soft, plush, lips grazed his earlobe. Harry blinked and shook his head hard, though he couldn’t even convince himself. “You don’t seem to mind so much,” Malfoy said, then, with a pointed glance down. Harry followed the gaze with his eyes and found, with horror, that his trousers were tenting quite obviously. Harry’s cheeks burned and he moved to cover his lap with his hands, but Malfoy was faster, grasping his wrists and pinning them above his head on the wall with a growl, forcing a shuddering breath out of Harry’s lips. Malfoy's eyes were locked on Harry’s mouth, and he thought for a wild second Malfoy might kiss him. He thought, even more wildly, that he wouldn’t even stop him if he did. In fact, he needed it. He’d never needed anything more, he was sure of it. Gods, how could he have been so blind before? He’d never felt this way—not with Ginny, not with Cho, not with anyone. He was suddenly very close to making a mess in his pants like a fourth-year, and he hadn’t even touched himself. It wouldn’t take much at all. He needed, he needed—Malfoy chuckled, but there wasn’t any humor behind it. It was cold, cruel.“Well, Potter,” Malfoy said with a faint sneer. He took a step back, and Harry shivered, suddenly cold without Malfoy invading his space. “I would say that homophobia’s not your issue here.” And without another word, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Harry panting, desperately hard and aching, and so, so very confused.