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Harry is still wasn't completely convinced that the last part of third year was real.
Since the ending of the winter holiday, Harry has been irritable from stubbornly ignoring Draco, still filled with anger that Draco thought that he knew better about his parents and their murderer better than him, and having to balance Ron and Hermione who were still bickering with one another about rats and cats. He just wanted everything to go back to normal.
Until the Shrieking Shack made everything come together. With amazing revelations of Sirius Black, said murderer, was framed, Ron’s rat was a long-lost traitor of his parents, Lupin was a werewolf, Draco was a Seer… many things happened that night.
Harry was still trying to take it all in as the weirdest group of people ever together trailed down the tunnel that would lead them back to Hogwarts.
“Does that mean we’re friends again?” Draco asked him after Harry apologised.
Harry then remembered that Draco was very much a real person he knew and was reminded that he had the worst crush on him.
“We never weren’t friends,” Harry sighed.
“Bloody hell, he’s back on it again,” Ron grumbled behind them and Harry was glad that the darkness hid his burning face.
When they all emerged out if the Whomping Willow Draco tripped and Harry caught him. They were left staring at each other on the open grounds, the moonlight seemed to make Draco glow.
But any fantastical fulfilment was interrupted with Lupin abruptly reminding of what werewolves do on the full moon.
Harry peeked inside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. All diagrams and trinkets were taken off shelves one by one as Lupin meticulously walked back and forth to put them in his depthless suitcase.
“You’re really not staying, Professor?”
“Ah, Harry. No, I’m afraid I’m not. I’m going to help Sirius get situated back into society. Help him claim his old family house, work out legal matters with the Ministry.” Lupin eased his suitcase closed with a soft click. “And I think that I take one too many days off for you all to fall into the clutches of Snape every month.”
“What’s to happen to him, then? Sirius and the Ministry?”
Lupin leaned against the table, looking up in thought. “Well, I guess that the Ministry is to reopen the case. Probably going to have a hearing about it.”
“Will it take long?” Harry refrained from adding on when can he start packing and leave the Durselys once and for all.
If you want to, you can live with me, Sirius said when the two were recovering in the Hospital Wing. But you don't have to, after all you have--Harry cut him off saying that he'd love to come live with him.
“Usually, but considering that this retrial on principal will make the Ministry look foolish for imprisoning the wrong person this entire time… I’m certain that they would like to be done as quick as possible without too much press coverage.”
“So he could be freed this summer?”
"I’ll wager that true.”
Harry couldn't wait.
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were more than delighted to have Harry off their hands for the day. Lupin picked him up in the morning and found Harry in a hand-me-down suit from Dudley that fit him best but still sagged all around him. It was the nicest thing that Harry had to wear to the trial. Harry's neck strained as he looked all over the dark tiling of the Ministry of Magic and the bustling of witches and wizards. They came upon a hearing room where the entrance was congested with journalists.
"Brace yourself," Lupin said under his breath and grabbed Harry's arms to guide him forward.
Harry felt himself brush shoulders and arms and then there was the dreaded cry.
"Merlin! That's Harry Potter!" A photographer shouted.
"Harry Potter?!"
"What on earth is he doing here?"
"Mister Potter, what's your reasoning of coming here today?"
"Mister Potter, a word if you don't mind!"
After images from the bright lights still clouded Harry's vision as he and Lupin settled into the visitor gallery and waited for the hearing to start. Harry fidgeted with the excess suit material, his leg bouncing. Why was he so nervous? Sirius had the stronger case. There was no way he was going to lose. He couldn't lose.
"Don't worry, Harry," Lupin squeezed his shoulder. "This will all work out."
Dozens of witches and wizards wearing uniformed red and black robes and hats filled the other side of the room. Peter Pettigrew, bounded sitting in a chair, was rolled inside by tired-looking wizards with bright badges pinned on their weather-beaten robes. Sirius was wheeled in by his own pair of wizards but was in a spiked cage that made Harry's teeth grind together.
Minster Fudge shuffled himself in front of the podium. He placed his glasses on and cleared his throat. "This hearing is now in session on the validity of Sirius Black's claims of false arrest and Peter Pettigrew's innocence. Heading this trial is I, Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic. In order for no misunderstandings this time, we will now administer the Veritaserum. Gentlemen, if you will.”
The pairs of wizards that brought in Sirius and Pettigrew approached them again, pulling out a phial and uncorking it.
“Who are they? What’s that they’re giving them?” Harry muttered to Lupin.
“Those are Aurors, Harry. Dark wizard catchers." Pettigrew cried out and threw his head back, twisting his head left and right and the Aurors had to pry his jaw open to pour in the liquid. "And that is a truth serum." Harry watched as Sirius calmly let the Auror stick his arms inside his cage and tipped his head back to throw back the serum. "When consumed they’ll lose all ability to lie and be imposed to tell the truth.”
“They didn't use this back in the first trial?” Harry asked.
“No.”
Harry furrowed his brow. “Why not?”
Lupin suddenly looked very tired and sighed out a long breath. “That is a story not much worth getting into. Oh, it's actually starting now."
There were too many questions for Harry to keep track off (it didn’t help that the every now and then the press would push themselves into the trial room and get pictures of Sirius and Pettigrew). Pettigrew’s answers too far too long and were mangled out through pleas and sobs. Sirius managed to stay confident despite sharp, iron spikes centimetres away from his face. As the trial progressed, each truth ripped out of Pettigrew's mouth made the jury gasp and whisper and constantly having Ministry Fudge call for an order. By the end of the questioning, it was clear that there has been a shift in support from one prisoner to the other.
“Those who find Sirius Black still guilty of crimes previously charged?” Minister Fudge asked the jury.
A woman with a sickeningly sweet smile and had bright pink clothing poking from under her robes put up her hand along with three others.
“All those who oppose?”
Harry felt his heart lift up in elation as the remaining tribunal raised their hands.
Minister Fudge gave a room a lazy scan before slamming the gavel down and declaring, “Cleared of all charges.” He lowered his head to one of the Aurors and hissed, “Get those reporters away from the door, now! ”
Another Auror pulled out a key and unlocked the cage. Sirius with gleeful eyes held out his shackles and smiled when the Auror pried open the iron cuffs off his wrists.
Harry hurried down from the stands and ran up to the man. "Sirius!" He squeezed the man's middle. "You're free!"
"I'm free," Sirius said, smiling down at Harry. "Thank you for being here, Remus." He reached out and pulled the man into a hug. They pulled apart to watch the Aurors take Pettigrew out of the hearing room. "Enjoy my cell, Peter!" he called out joyfully to the man.
Pettigrew whimpered. "Friends, please--"
"Eyes, forward!" the Auror heaved Pettigrew out of the room quicker.
Harry turned back to Sirius. “Can we go to your place now?”
“Hold on, Harry," Lupin said. "The Ministry still needs to know that Sirius has the means to take you in.”
Harry almost stomped his foot in Dudley-like pungency. “But he’s my godfather."
“Exactly. Your aunt and uncle never formally took you in, right?”
“Probably?”
“Then this’ll be simple.”
Harry sat outside an office in a different place of the Ministry, fiddling with his fingers, waiting for the verdict of whether or not he could escape the Durselys. When the door opened, Harry jumped onto his feet.
Lupin and Sirius stepped out, followed by a bespectacled witch that gave them formal goodbyes and handshakes. She nodded briefly to Harry before hurrying back into her office with a quiet slam.
"So?" Harry asked. "What did she say?"
Lupin and Sirius looked at each other. Lupin held out a paper.
Harry took it and scanned the words as Lupin said, “Through consent by James and Lily Potter by the title of godfather and through the Department of Magical Law and Cooperation, Sirius Black is now the legal guardian of Harry James Potter and can leave the previous guardianship of Petunia Dursely and her family.”
Harry couldn’t hold back and threw his arms around Sirius once more. He doesn't think he's been this happy. It was actually happening. He was actually going to live with Sirius.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow,” Sirius promised. Harry pulled himself away to listen. “Pack your things. Pack everything so we don’t have to go back for anything. I'll see you then.”
Harry's glee only lessened slightly when he found himself at Privet Drive again.
“Oh,” Aunt Petunia’s mouth pursed when she saw them waiting on the porch step. “You’re back.”
Lupin’s smile turned to ice. “Quite right. Here to bring Harry back."
"Hm." Aunt Petunia frowned. "Well, hurry up. Inside."
"Bye, Lupin."
"Bye, Harry. I'll see you--" Petunia quickly shut the door on Lupin's face.
Aunt Petunia marched him into the living room to see Uncle Vernon and Dudley sitting in front of the TV. “Vernon, dear, the boy is back.”
“Boy, get started on dinner," Uncle Vernon ordered, not taking his eyes away from the screen. "And bring a snack out. Dudley is getting peckish.”
Harry straightened his back and cleared his throat. “No, Uncle Vernon, I won’t make you dinner.”
Petunia’s eyes widened and covered her gaping mouth with a hand.
Uncle Vernon's head slowly turned to him, his eyes narrowed. “What was that?"
“You can’t tell me what to do anymore.”
“What did you say to me, boy?”
“You cannot tell me what to do anymore," Harry enunciated.
Uncle Vernon’s ears looked as if they wanted to release steam. “Why you ungrateful, little—“ He stood up and rushed up to Harry.
Harry easily took a step back. “I have a new legal guardian now. My godfather. Yeah, he just got out of Azkaban. Oh, it’s the high-security prison for wizards.”
That made Uncle Vernon stop cold. “Prison? P-Prison you say?”
“Yep, he was sent there for murder charges."
Uncle Vernon’s ruddy face managed to lose colour. “M-Murder charges?”
“Yeah, loads of murders. It’d be a shame if he found out that I’ve had a bad last day with my aunt and uncle. Especially since he knows where this place is.”
The Durselys' faces were horrified at the admission. Aunt Petunia fainted and dropped to the floor as neither Uncle Vernon nor Dudley caught her, both in their own case of shock.
“I’m going to pack up now.” Harry prepared to go up the stairs before he doubled back. “Have Dudley make dinner for you all.” He said before dashing up to his room.
Harry didn’t get a wink of sleep. He couldn't wait for morning.
The next day, Harry haphazardly stuffed all of his belongings (which weren’t much) into his school trunk. He sat on his stripped bed, bouncing his leg and his ears peeled for the doorbell.
Midday, the doorbell rang and Harry jumped up, his heart pounding. He pulled on his shoes, grabbed his trunk, swung an old backpack onto his shoulder, and clutched his photo album Hagrid gifted him in his first year under his arm to grab Hedwig's cage. Without looking back, he left his emptied bedroom.
He thumped downstairs, pausing to take in the scene before him.
Aunt Petunia had the door open, her mouth pursed so tight, her lips disappeared as Sirius stood in the threshold with a woman with spiked, bubblegum pink hair and long robes at his side. Petunia’s nose wrinkled at the woman's ear and nose piercings.
“Ah, Petunia, isn’t it? You’ve probably never met me… I don’t think you were at the wedding. I’m Sirius Black.” He held out his hand.
Aunt Petunia's face pinched at the offered handshake.
Sirius shrugged and stuffed his hand into his pocket. "Fair enough."
“Petunia, don't tell me it’s that boy’s stupid—“ Uncle Vernon froze as he found Sirius. His face shined with cold sweat. Dudley, who followed after his father, cowered behind him. “You were on the news--You’re that—that convict--”
“Ex-convict, yes,” Sirius nodded. “And here’s my parole officer, Auror Tonks.”
“Wotcha,” Auror Tonks grinned.
"I just came by to pick up Harry. I'm sure he's told you." Sirius glanced up at the stairs and brightened. “Ah, Harry! There you are! Are you ready to go?”
“Absolutely.”
“Well come on then!” Sirius gestured with his head and headed out the door, Auror Tonks following him out. “Sorry, but we gotta dash. Nice meeting you, three!” He called over his shoulders.
Harry didn’t need to be told twice.
Aunt Petunia stepped back into her husband to make room for Harry's thumping trunk.
“When will we see you again?” Aunt Petunia asked.
Harry paused and turned back around, a hand on the doorknob. He grinned. “With luck, never again,” he said before slamming the door shut.
He hurried down the steps with a bright grin letting himself walk beside Sirius for him to wrap an arm around his shoulders. He led them to a car where Auror Tonks popped open the trunk and held out her arm to take Harry’s belongings.
"We're driving to your place?"
"We are indeed. My family's place is in London. Muggle London, if you can believe it."
"You can drive?"
Sirius looked embarrassed. "Ah, no. Not a car. Never learned. Too complicated for me. Too many things to pay attention to."
“Don’t worry, Mister Potter. I know how to drive,” Auror Tonks said as she closed the trunk with a satisfying slam. “I’m taking you to your place now, Black.”
Harry slid into the backseat, settling Hedwig beside him. As Auror Tonks began driving away, Harry turned back to look at Number 4, Privet Drive one last time. The Durselys gained enough courage to come on the doorstep and stared back at him as he disappeared from view. He settled back into his seat.
Good riddance.
They drove to London in silence, Harry passively looking at all the sights. They parked alongside the street and stepped out into a normal-looking neighbourhood.
"Alright. Here you are, Mister Potter," Auror Tonks placed Harry's trunk and backpack beside him. "You’ve might’ve heard but I’m gonna be Sirius’ parole officer. You’ll see me around twice a week, but I won’t be there for long. Just to make sure all’s right with the world.”
“Thank you, Auror Tonks. And you can just call me Harry.”
"Oh, thank Merlin! I thought I'd have to call you Mister Potter forever. It's also just Tonks for me. Technically, I haven’t finished my training yet but none of the other Aurors wanted to take the assignment. They find it pointless and not worth their time. If you ask me, they skipped out on an easy job.”
“I never thought I’d be pleased to be deemed unimportant," Sirius said. "Come on, Harry. Let's get you settled in your new room now."
Living with Sirius was amazing.
Harry’s new bedroom was much larger than the one at the Dursleys and he could decorate it the way he wanted and could let it be as messy as he wanted.
Sirius didn’t let Harry do chores, he had all the snacks that he could want. There was an old family house-elf named Kreacher but he would seldomly come out of his cupboard (and when it did, it was mostly to console the shrieking portrait of Sirius' mother). Lupin thus came around often and sorted out Sirius' parents' belongings and did the job of wiping down shelves and pull apart cobwebs from the corners.
The rules Sirius had were really lax. Sirius told Harry that he had a curfew of at midnight and when he went out to not stray far from the London area, but Harry didn't really want to go out when he would be perfectly content at home. But Harry appreciated knowing that Sirius really didn't get proper curfews.
(There was only one room in the flat that Harry wasn’t allowed inside.
“It’s my brother’s room. That’s all you need to know, Harry,” Sirius said and patted his head and that was the end of that. “It’s nothing to worry about.”)
Sirius (and Tonks for supervision) took him to the shopping district and gave Harry a whole new wardrobe that ended with a visit to an ice cream parlour.
Tonks was true to her word that she had to visit weekly to check up on them to make sure that Sirius wasn’t up to 'deviant behaviour' or treating Harry like how the Durselys did. But Tonks was just as fun as Sirius. She would use her ability of Metamorphmagus to transform her face into outlandish features that would make Harry's sides hurt from laughter. She would eagerly help Lupin sort out Black artefacts (but was banished to dusting when she dropped one too many fragile figurines) and brought Harry records and tapes of her favourite band, The Weird Sisters.
It was one of the best summers Harry has ever had.
The only time that Tonks looked dubious about Sirius’ parenting was when the first time he tried to cook for Harry.
(Tonks watched with mild deadpan confusion as Sirius fought with the popping oil of the frying pan. He tried to swat at the drops with the spatula.
“Sirius, I can make breakfast… It’s not a problem.” Harry cringed, watching the man now swat away black smoke from his face.
“No, no, Harry!” Sirius coughed. I got this!”
Kreacher, who was looking from a crack through his cupboard, frowned and spoke up. “Kreacher is now willing to cook meals for the Master and Harry Potter if the Master would stop.”
“Nonsense! I’m capable enough to make some eggs!” Sirius pulled the pan off the burner. “See?” He wandered over to Harry and shook the pan over Harry’s plate. A charred over easy egg landed on the porcelain with an unappetizing splat.
Harry and Sirius looked towards Tonks.
She managed a clap that reminded Harry of Uncle Vernon’s golf tournaments he’d watch on television.)
Harry was at the kitchen table doing schoolwork (Sirius said he’d help but seemed lost on most subjects and elected to ‘just watch over him’) when there was a disturbance from the chimney. He hurried out of the kitchen to watch a cloud of smoke erupted from the fireplace and a tiny, buzzing owl darted out into the living room.
That wasn’t Draco’s usual owl but Draco explained that he often wrote to his other friends and he would send other owls so none would get overworked. Harry hurried to take the letter out of the owl's beak (taking a moment of jumping at it around the living room).
“Who’s that, Harry?” Sirius asked as Harry reappeared in the kitchen and ripped open the letter.
Harry drooped. It was just Ron, making sure it was still okay for him to go to the Quidditch World Cup and for them to pick him up from Sirius’. Apparently, Harry just met Ron’s new owl, Pig. (There was a tiny note in different handwriting that said that his full name was Pigwidgeon and that Ron was only being rude.)
“It’s just a friend,” Harry sighed, quickly replying to the letter and sending Pig on his way.
“Judging from your face it isn’t the same friend you’ve been writing to this entire summer?”
Harry cleared his throat. “No,” He said neutrally. "But it's fine." Sitting back down, he picked up his quill to start writing his Herbology essay.
“It’s that Malfoy boy, isn’t it?”
Harry was bothered at the question. “Yeah… What’s wrong with that?” He’s learnt that whenever adults hear the name Malfoy they think of Lucius and Draco wasn't anything like Lucius.
“Nothing! He actually looks like he can be quite nice compared to his aunt.”
“Yeah," Harry said, brightening. "He’s nice and cool and…” He trailed off when he realized what he sounded like. “Er, yeah. He's nice.”
Sirius gave him a long stare before blurting out, “Is something going on there?”
Harry broke his quill in a startled panic.
"I'm sorry, that was forward, wasn't it? I was just wondering--I remember how you looked at him in that tunnel..." Sirius waved a hand. "Forget it, it's none of my business and I'm making assumptions. Don't worry about it, Harry. I'll let you work in peace--" He made to stand up.
"Sirius, wait," Harry held out a hand.
Oh, was he really going to do this?
Ron and Hermione were the only people he ever told directly but they were Ron and Hermione. They were his friends. They'd never turn him away. Draco’s Ravenclaw friends knew too because of Harry’s obviousness--they scheme with Ron about Harry's crush countless of times--but them being fine with it could’ve only been luck. Tonks and Lupin seem to be catching on an idea but they didn't actually know for sure. He still didn’t completely know how the overall wizarding world felt about it and how Sirius would react. It sounded like he already figured it out, but what would he say when Harry actually said it aloud? He didn't want to mess up anything that they had. This was his godfather.
... His godfather that broke out of a top-security prison to avenge his parents. Who was more than ready to take Harry into his care. Gave him a new home and made him feel wanted. Made him burnt over easy eggs.
He could say it. Say it. It was only Sirius. Harry didn’t need to have fear around Sirius.
"I... I..." Harry took a deep breath. Okay, he needed just a bit more time to form the sentence. He shuffled around his pages of homework and notes. He pulled one out and held it out to Sirius.
Harry felt his throat bloat as Sirius took it with a furrowed brow. Sirius' look of confusion stayed as stared at the notes about a 14th-century pixie infestation in Ireland until he looked at the margin. A Snitch with ‘HP + DM’ scratched in the middle. An unsaid declaration.
Harry ducked his head down. Sirius now basically knew. What was he going to do now?
Sirius looked up at Harry.
Harry could feel his heart in his throat.
“You know... your father would do the same thing.”
Harry's brow furrowed. “What?”
Sirius set down the page. "Writing initials in a Snitch. He'd do the same thing."
"He did?"
"Of course, he was crazy about your mother." Sirius sighed and leaned back into his chair. “In fact, I was the first person James talked to when he went off about Lily. Ugh, you’d think there was nothing else in the world to talk about than Lily Evans.” He groaned but it turned into a laugh. “Years, years! Years I had to listen to that! Believe me when I say I know when a Potter is lovesick and what ticks they do. Do you also mess around with your hair when he's around as well?”
Harry's burning face told him the answer.
"Was that forward? That was forward, wasn't it? You don't have to tell me anything else if you don't want to. Thank you for sharing this with me, Harry."
“No, I want to talk about this." He finally got enough words gathered together. "I… like Draco. Like… like-like.” Harry felt his burning cheeks grow hotter. Did he just say that? Like-like? What was he, ten?
“All right, then,” Sirius motioned his hand. "Lay it on me."
“What?”
“What’s the story?”
“The story?”
“How did you meet? When did you start liking him? Come on, I need to catch up on a lot of things about you!” Sirius gave him a sideways smile. “Also, I need something to embarrass you with, as it is part of my job as parental guardian.”
“He… was the first wizard I met that was my age. We were in Madam Malkin’s getting fitted for our school robes. Something happened, he tried to step away and he fell and I managed to catch him. When I looked at him... I thought he was…”
Blond hair that reminded him of a storybook prince, it was the first time Harry saw anyone with grey eyes like that…
“He was…?”
“Pretty,” Harry said and he stared hard at the table. Like-like? Pretty? He sounded so lame.
“Pretty you say? Don’t get too crazy there.”
“Sirius!”
“Don’t worry, Harry, you’re not as bad your father. Alright, so a pretty boy? Anything else? Don’t tell me that’s it?”
“It’s not!”
Sirius waited patiently.
“I don’t know. I’ve… I’ve always felt like he could understand me. Like we can understand each other. I can tell him anything and he… doesn’t mind. He’s always been there for me, no matter what, even if we were fighting... He makes everything make a lot of sense. He makes me feel normal but, like, special, too. But in a nice way. I, I'm never alone with him. He's just..." Any other time, Harry was able to create a list of what he liked about Draco, but all his thoughts were currently shorthanded to: Draco pretty, Draco smart, Draco amazing. "I, I can't even explain it. I think from the first moment I saw him I had… feelings... but I didn’t know what they were exactly." He spent a lot of nights wondering what it meant to get a fluttery feeling at the idea to go speak to him. How Draco managed to still be on his mind even if it was hours they’ve spoken to each other. How happy he got that Draco sought him out. "I didn't know until..."
“Until…?”
“In first year, I found this mirror and I took him late at night to show him. He saw something in the mirror that upset him. Like, really, really upset him. And I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want him to be upset. I couldn’t think of what else to say so I’d say I’d help him. And that seemed to work because he smiled. And this smile… it wasn’t like the others I saw. It felt so… different and… more real. And then it all made sense about what I was feeling. I had a crush on him." Harry cleared his throat. "I mean, I still have a crush on him.”
“Now that’s an adorable story. I'm very happy for you, Harry. Is there anything else you want me to know about him?”
A switch in Harry flipped and suddenly he was speaking about how Draco is really smart and really cool, and how Draco’s hair falls in front of his face and how it sends butterflies to his stomach every time he tries to tuck it behind his ear, how nice Draco’s voice sounds when he’s tutoring him, how he very rarely laughs aloud but when he does so it’s pretty great, and his smile …
“Alright, I think I’m starting to get it!” Sirius waved his hand in front of him. “I think you like the boy. You really are your father’s son, aren’t you?”
Harry beamed at that.
“So something tells me you haven’t told him yet.”
Harry’s smile waned. “No. Of course not.” He noticed Sirius’ frown and added, “But I’ve been trying to tell him! I just... can never do it.” He looked down to pick at his fingernails. “He doesn’t feel the same about me anyway.”
“How do you know that?”
“He only thinks of us as friends. He’s told me so. Loads of times.”
Sirius winced in sympathy.
“But Ron and Hermione, even Draco’s friends in Ravenclaw… they keep saying that I should just go for it. You can’t imagine how many times Ron has tried to set me up.”
“Well... As they say, no chance taken is an opportunity lost and whatnot.”
“Is that what you thought when you couldn’t confess to someone?” Harry asked.
“Well…” Sirius placed a crooked finger on his chin. “I don’t think I had that problem when I was in school… Usually, people confessed to me.”
“That’s loads helpful, Sirius.”
“I’m sorry! I honestly wish that I could help you more with this Harry, truly! Why don’t you take a break from your work and go clean up while I get dinner going.”
Harry gathered up his schoolwork and trudged back up to his room. He opened the door to see Hedwig was napping in her cage, tired from all her time sending out letters to everyone this summer.
He placed his work on his desk with a sigh. “You’d probably also want me to confess don't you?” He asked the owl.
Hedwig opened one yellow eye slowly as if to say, you think?
“Yeah, I figured.” He sat down on his bed, burying his face into his hands.
He could already hear responses of his friends if he asked them about their thoughts to him confessing.
Hermione would say: Harry, you can't keep bottling your feelings away. You have to be honest about what you feel. And Draco deserves to know. Maybe I can subscribe to Witch Weekly and get some dating advice…
Ron wouldn’t be as gentle. How long have you been pining, mate? You have to take the chance because, if I’m being honest, it was fun when we were younger but this is getting kind of sad.
He even knows what Draco’s Ravenclaw friends would say: Potter, we’re begging you, do something.
“But it isn’t that simple,” Harry said, falling back to his bed. Hedwig gave a pungent hoot. “Everyone says that I need to tell him, but it’s not that easy.”
But isn’t it? Isn’t it really that simple? Just telling him? What was stopping him?
Harry stretched his neck to look at his bedside table. He reached out to the last letter Draco wrote. There wasn’t anything peculiar about the letter. Just about how there would be a possibility that they could meet up at the Quidditch World Cup.
Even after reading it a dozen times, he always had to pause at the last sentence:
Can’t wait to see you again.
Harry’s arms dropped, bringing the letter to his chest. He could feel his elevated heartbeat through the parchment and his shirt.
To tell his crush of three years he liked him…
Well, all sorts of things are going well for him. He was finally freed of the horrible Durselys, he had the best godfather in the world, he was going to one of the biggest wizard gatherings in the world with his friends, and he started school in a few weeks… he could finally act like any other teenager.
“This year,” Harry declared.
Hedwig crooned, intrigued.
“I’m going to tell him how I feel this year.”
Hedwig fluttered beside him and held out her leg.
“W-What are you--” Harry sat up. “I’m not sending a confession letter !”
She gave a peeved coo.