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`Confirmed: Harry Potter is On The Market Again!
The high profile couple of Potter-Weasley has filed for divorce. Ladies, get ready!
Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley were caught leaving the Ministry of Magic after officially filing their divorce papers and putting an end to the rumours surrounding them.
Or, at least, to some of them.
Potter and Weasley confirmed to our reporter that they have indeed broken the marriage and that they are both looking forward to a new chapter in their lives. When asked if there are any hard feelings, both smiled, and Potter said that he is sorry things didn’t work out, but he wishes all the best to his once high school sweetheart. Weasley smirked and said she is not worried about hers or Harry’s well-being, and confirmed that the two are planning to stay friends despite the break up.
Considering the conspiracies that have surrounded the couple in the past year, including alleged coldness between them, as well as doubts regarding Potter’s sexuality, it is no surprise that the couple ended up going their separate ways.
When asked about the rumours, especially those concerning Potter’s sexuality (we know you’re worried, witches!)
“I wouldn’t peg you for the sort to read that shit.”
Draco sharply looked up from his copy of today’s Witch Weekly . There weren’t many things that could distract him from reading the latest gossip about Harry: especially not something as meaningful as an article claiming he had finally divorced the Weasel girl, and even more so considering the giant picture of Harry and Ginevra in the Ministry’s hall, Harry wearing a giant smile but still trying – as his pictures always did – to escape the camera, while Ginevra stood there looking all awkward. But Harry’s voice, and especially Harry’s voice directed at him, was somewhere on the top of the list.
Draco put away the paper, feeling the heat rising up to the tip of his ears. He knew very well that Harry would know what he was reading. News such as the Wizarding World’s Golden Boy becoming an eligible bachelor again was bound to appear on the cover of any paper it’d be printed in, and especially in Witch Weekly and the likes. Draco knew; he bought the magazine because it had Harry’s face printed on its cover.
He decided that since he could not hide it, he was not going to show he was ashamed of getting caught. “Well, think again, Potter,” he said, making sure to lace his voice with every ounce of dignity he could muster. “I’m a man of many interests.”
Draco held his ground at Harry’s raised eyebrow. “You mean you read this for the great dating tips?”
“You would happen to know that they do have some good points sometimes. And I do enjoy the fashion column.”
“And the gossip.” Harry gestured with his head. Draco felt his throat drying and his face heating up again. “It’s alright. I know my divorce is a hot topic.”
Draco swallowed. He refused to let the way Harry had said that - so casual, matter-of-factly - ignite any sort of hope within him. It was a lost mission. Ever since the gossip columns had started mentioning the rift in Harry and the Weasley girl’s relationship he’d been glued to them, religiously reading every issue that had Harry’s face on it. It was a guilty pleasure he only let Pansy know.
And Pansy had told him time and time again that he cannot let his childish crush on the Boy Who Lived raise its ugly head, no matter what the papers had been saying, because it was all most likely ‘ utter bullshit designed to sell more papers ’.
But having Harry stand right next to him and mention his divorce to him like it was a real thing, and not a lie made up by a sleazy magazine, made keeping the monster at bay much harder.
“So it’s true?” he asked, trying to sound conversational, and not as if his life depended on Harry’s answer. Because it really didn’t. Whether it was true or not it made no difference. Draco knew that on a conscious level.
It was just too bad that his logic didn’t transfer well to that treasonous part of him that still had hope.
“That I got divorced?”
Draco nodded.
Harry smirked. “Yeah. It just went through today. I’m all single and ready to mingle.”
Draco - not for the first time in his life - wondered why his heart had chosen Harry out of all eligible men he’d met over the twenty four years of his life.
“So are you looking for advice, or something like that? Want me to be your wingman? I doubt Harry The Saviour Potter needs any help with the ladies.”
Draco watched as Harry lifted his arm and pushed his unruly hair out of his face. It did not help at all; as soon as he lowered his hand, his hair was right back where it started. “Well… no, I don’t, really.”
“Oh.” Then Draco did something before he could stop himself. He knew, as soon as the words have left his mouth, that he was going to regret this. “Help with the lads, then? If you’ve already established that the papers are actually telling the truth for a change.”
It was a bad idea. Digging his own grave, really. What good could possibly come out of asking that?!
Draco felt his throat drying again.
“Oh, uhm. Well, no, not that, either.”
His throat felt like he’d spent a year wandering around the Sahara Desert and his heart sank. “So that part of the rumours printed in the papers was not true?”
Not only was he digging his own grave, he was dropping his own body into it, too. What was his treasonous brain going to do next? Outright tell Harry that he’d been harbouring a crush on him ever since school? That him being friendly when he found out that Potter, out of all people, had joined the office, wasn’t an innocent attempt to right the wrongs he’d done, but also a way to get close to him? Not that it would’ve done him any good (another thing Pansy loved to remind him), what with Harry being married to a woman, and all that.
Harry let out a short chuckle, and tried to move that stray hair again. “Well, I didn’t say that …”
Draco felt his heart beating hard in his chest. Did Harry just say what he thought he’d said? He laughed nervously. “Right, you fancy lads. Harry Potter, gay as a rainbow,” Draco gestured with his hand.
Harry’s lips stretched into a smirk. Draco’s heart now beat so hard that he could practically hear it over the pub’s loud music.
“And if I was?”
Did Harry just come out to him? And if he did, what was he supposed to do with that? Congratulate him? How could he do that when all he wanted was to scream at him for not having realised that sooner, that Draco’s been longing to hear him say those words - with a minor addition - for ages, that Draco was completely, unequivocally, pathetically in love with him?
Draco swallowed, but it did not help ease the dryness. “Oh. Uhm. Are you, then?” he asked, and it sounded like someone else’s words. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to hear Harry’s answer. Because, surely, there was no way that he was. This was - this was just some kind of a joke. Harry’s way of coping with a very public divorce and the various rumours flying about.
He absolutely refused to register the flirty glint he thought he saw in Harry’s eyes, or his suggestive tone, or the fact that out of all the possible seats in the pub, he chose the one next to Draco. He did that because he wanted a friendly face, surely. And Draco had tried to be just that.
It was biting him in the arse now.
Harry shrugged, green eyes closing for just a second. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve been having… certain… feelings.”
Merlin. Draco was not prepared for this. Though he could see how Harry might think he was the right address for this conversation. He doubted Harry had any other openly gay person in his circle of friends. He was pretty sure that Dean and Seamus might’ve been, but Harry hadn’t been talking about them at all, so he figured maybe they’ve fallen out of touch after school.
Surely it didn’t mean anything that he came to him with these feelings.
He cleared his throat, but it didn’t help at all. “For… men?”
Harry looked thoughtful for a second. “I s’ppose you could say so.”
“Well,” Draco started, and used all of his restrained posh upbringing to stuff his own feelings somewhere, stash them away. Right now he was being Harry’s friend. “It’s alright if you do, you know. And you shouldn’t pay attention to the media. I know the papers weren’t very supportive when they were speculating. But you know, they usually aren’t. It sells more copies that way. It was the same with me when I was caught with a man. But they forget about it. And all that matters is having a support system. And I think you do have that. I don’t think Ron and Hermione would think any less of you if you were, you know, gay. And it’s okay if you aren’t sure, either. Experimenting is acceptable, as long as, you know, all involved parties are aware of the situation.”
“That’s… Erm, that’s good to know.”
Merlin, that small, shy smile on Harry’s face was probably the most beautiful thing Draco had ever had the honour to witness.
“But, actually…” Harry moved his arm to push his hair back again. And, once again, it did absolutely nothing. “I came to say that I, er, have feelings for a man. Someone very particular.”
Great . As if this nightmare couldn’t get any worse. “Oh. Did you… did you want to tell me who it is?”
Please, don’t .
“I kind of did. That’s sort of why I came here to find you.”
“Do I know him, then?”
Draco hoped against all odds that he did not, in fact, know the bloke who had Harry Potter questioning his sexuality. He didn’t think he could handle ever seeing that man again without hexing him to tomorrow. And he probably didn’t even deserve that. Any man Harry fancied must be a really special someone. He was probably someone good. He couldn’t imagine Harry falling for someone who wasn’t exceptional.
“Yeah.”
“Oh. Who is it, then?”
“I could… show you. If you’d let me.”
Harry smiled that smile again, and Draco knew it was a lost battle. “Yes, of course. If you want to. You don’t have to.”
“I know, but… I think I do.”
Draco waited. He didn’t know how Harry intended to show him - maybe he had a picture, or he was in the Witch Weekly copy.
He felt Harry’s hand on his arm. Maybe the man Harry was crushing on was right there at the pub. Maybe he wanted to introduce them.
If that was the case, Draco wasn’t sure he could control himself anymore. It would be too much to ask.
“Harry,” he started, but before he could tell Harry that it was too much - that he didn’t want to meet Harry’s gay crush - he felt Harry leaning closer, and the air between them changed, getting thick and heavy. He looked at Harry, taking in the way he was looking at him now, and he finally allowed himself to see. His heart skipped a beat. Oh .
He didn’t dare to move. He didn’t dare to blink. He would’ve stopped breathing if his lungs would’ve let him. Because this couldn’t be real. It couldn’t, and if he moved, reality might kick in, and -
“May I?”
Harry’s voice was soft, hesitative. Draco could barely hear him over the loud music. Or maybe he didn’t hear him at all, and he managed to make the words only from the way Harry’s warm breath fluttered against his skin.
He swallowed, and nodded, unsure whether the sound of his own voice would break the dream.
He saw the corners of Harry’s eyes move, knew he was smiling, but it didn’t matter because a second later he felt lips pressing against his own, and he would’ve never imagined that Harry’s lips would feel like this: coarse, but somehow still soft, and so, so good. He heard himself giving a soft moan and he dared to move his hand to link his fingers with Harry’s, holding onto his warm hand.
He felt Harry’s fingers tightening around him, felt him opening his lips slightly, hesitantly. He wanted to let him in, wanted to devour him, to finally know what Harry tasted like. He wanted to take him to his home, to his bed; he wanted to make love to him, over and over again, until they were both spent, and then he wanted to fall asleep in his arm, wake up to his soft kiss, make him breakfast and spend the whole day in bed.
It was so tempting. And he probably could do just that.
He held tight on Harry’s hand, and bowed his head.
“Draco? I’m sorry - was it - was it not okay?”
The hurt and concern in Harry’s voice was almost as painful as breaking the kiss was; as knowing he had to say what he was about to say was.
“No, it was - but, Harry,” he looked up. “You’ve just got divorced. I don’t know… I don’t know if this is okay. For you. I don’t want you to do something you might regret in the morning.”
Harry’s eyes, big behind his glasses, which were slightly askew on his nose, stared right at him. “I won’t. I’ve been waiting… I’ve felt this way for a long while already. I think I’ve had feelings for you for years. But I only realised it a few months ago. I’m not… I’m not just using you, Draco. It’s not just something I do because I’m sad. I’m not. I’m happy. I was relieved when everything was signed. I waited for so long so I could come here. Come to you. Tell you that I like you. I thought you liked me too. I think… I think that now I know you do.” Harry kissed him again, only for a second. “I came here to ask you if you’d like to go out on a date with me.”
It felt as if Draco’s heart forgot a beat or two. He desperately wanted to believe Harry, but he also could not believe that it could be true. How could it be? Good things did not just happen to him. But the warmth of Harry’s lips lingered on his own. He’d dreamed about kissing Harry so many times before, but it was never so realistic. It never left him feeling this content. It left him empty and longing.
This was real .
“Harry,” he said again, and it was strange, saying his name out loud. In his thoughts, he’d been Harry for months. But he’d only dared calling him Potter until today. Until now. He liked the way the name rolled on his tongue, the way it sounded when spoken. He licked his lips. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
Harry squeezed his hand lightly. “Yes, I am sure. I wouldn’t have asked you otherwise.”
Draco’s heart sang in his chest, and he let out a soft laugh. This felt too good to be true, and yet, somehow, it was true. “Then yes. Of course. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to ask me.”
“No point in waiting any longer, then. Do you want to have our first date right now?”
“I would like the 96’ Chardonnay, please,” Draco said, smiling.
Harry arched an eyebrow, but smiled back. He kissed him shortly before getting off his seat. “Coming right up.”