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Try as he might, Harry found himself staring at the small mark of Malfoy’s name on the marauders map, where he stood in the Slytherin Quidditch changing rooms, next to a pair of feet labelled ‘Pansy Parkinson’.
Harry’s own name was directly next to theirs on the map, as he was currently perched on one of the benches in the very same changing room, hidden under his invisibility cloak and listening in on the Slytherins.
Why, you might ask?
Well, Malfoy was up to something, clearly. That, Harry was sure of. Malfoy simply had to be up to something. He had been acting suspicious all year and with Voldemort back one simply couldn’t be careful enough – which meant Harry had to spy on Malfoy, obviously.
And, finally, he would be able to find out what it was Malfoy was clearly hiding and then he could prove it to Hermione and Ron, who both thought Harry was going crazy because he was following Malfoy anywhere.
When he had overheard Malfoy earlier, asking Parkinson to meet him in this very place because he had ‘something important to discuss’, he had been sure that this would be his chance for uncovering the horrid secret he was sure Malfoy kept. Clearly, because who else would he tell if not for Parkinson, who was his best friend.
It had been difficult to escape Hermione’s study session but in the end he had made something up about how Dumbledore needed to see him. It happened often enough these days that it was believable, though judging by the look Hermione had sent him she didn’t believe him anyway.
Malfoy and Parkinson had already been in the changing room when Harry had finally managed to get down to the Pitch, but luckily he had managed to sneak in unseen, both of them too engrossed in their conversation to notice the door opening and closing on its own.
His late arrival meant that he had missed the beginning of their discussion, but it seemed that Malfoy was quite agitated about the matter so Harry was sure he was on the right track.
“I just don’t know what to do, Pans! I’ve been trying for months but it just – doesn’t work”, Malfoy exclaimed, ruffling his hair anxiously.
There, that was confirmation enough already. Malfoy was trying to do something – certainly something thoroughly evil, Harry thought – but wasn’t succeeding.
Parkinson seemed to think for a moment, from where she was sitting on the bench opposite the one Harry was occupying right now, with Malfoy hectically walking up and down the space in between, clearly distressed.
“Have you, I don’t know, thought of flirting with him?”
Harry gasped in shock, almost falling from the bench as he tried to hold on somewhere to ground himself. Surely he had heard wrong?
Parkinson couldn’t actually be talking about flirting to Malfoy, could she? And to suggest Malfoy to flirt with someone? How should that help him in obtaining his evil goal? And had she said ‘flirting with him’ ?! Why would Malfoy flirt with a boy? Malfoy wasn’t gay, was he? No, surely not.
Harry tried to ignore the excited flutter in his stomach that he felt when thinking about Malfoy being gay. What was it to him, even if he was? Harry didn’t care. Harry wasn’t even interested in Malfoy so of course he didn’t care. What was he thinking, Harry wasn’t even interested in boys, so ...
Well, in all fairness, there had been Cedric Diggory in fourth year. And Oliver Wood really didn’t look all too bad – Harry frowned. What was he thinking? Was he gay?
No, he thought. He still liked girls. One couldn’t very well be gay and like girls, right? That kinda went against the whole thing, as far as Harry knew.
Whatever, now wasn’t the right time for a sexuality crisis, he would have to ask Hermione later, she probably knew about that stuff. Hermione knew about everything, after all.
It didn’t change that he totally wasn’t interested in Malfoy though, so he really couldn’t care less about the git’s sexuality. He was just concerned for the poor guy Parkinson was talking about that she suggested Malfoy flirt with. Malfoy flirting with you certainly couldn’t be a nice experience, Harry thought. Which was why he was also certainly not imagining what that experience would be like.
Malfoy probably only intended to flirt with some guy because it was part of his evil plan! That had to be it! Harry had to find out more information about the person in question so he could save him from whatever Malfoy had planned!
In front of him, Malfoy was wildly running his hands through his hair, letting out agitated huffs.
“I thought I was flirting with him, Pans!”
Parkinson rolled her eyes. “Well, it clearly isn’t working, is it?”
Malfoy groaned in annoyance. “Yes, thank you. I noticed”, he hissed. “I just don’t how to go about it. Every time I try to say something nice or flirtatious it ends up turning into an insult. He just drives me crazy!”
Harry was stumped. Malfoy couldn’t actually be having genuine feelings for someone, right?
Parkinson tried to calm him down, her expression understanding. “I know. But if you keep on treating him like this, how is he to know you like him?”
“Arghh, that’s my problem!”, Malfoy exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. “He probably still hates me! But I also can’t just switch up my whole behaviour towards him suddenly, that wouldn’t work either.”
He looked truly agitated and Harry did actually feel himself feel bad for him. Part of him just wanted to reach out and wrap Malfoy up in his arms and reassure him that he would be fine. To hold his hand and smooth over his frown with his hand and – WHAT WAS HE THINKING?!
“Dray, I’m sure he doesn’t hate you completely”, Parkinson said. “I mean, it’s Potter, I think he needs that whole rivalry thing going on between you two. That’s just how it is with you, that’s how it has been since first year. You just drive each other crazy, but I’m sure deep down he doesn’t completely despise you.”
This time Harry almost did fall from the bench and he definitely let out a quite clearly audible sound – he could only pray that Malfoy and Parkinson hadn’t heard and wouldn’t find him. That would be awkward. Especially right now.
Had Parkinson really just said his name?! Harry was many things, but definitely not hard of hearing, and he was sure he had heard her say his name.
But that would mean ... Malfoy was trying to flirt with him, Harry Potter?!
“I don’t know”, he heard Malfoy whining. “I just feel like he hates me, you know? I mean, I’ve been making his life hell for years, how could he not? He has so many reasons to!”
Parkinson opened her mouth, seemingly to say something but before she could interrupt him, Malfoy continued.
“He’s just so pretty, you know? It’s unfair! I don’t know what to do with myself every time I’m around him and then I just revert back to this whole mean bully thing and I can’t take it any longer! I’ve had this massive crush on him ever since second year, for Merlin’s sake, and – ”
This time it really couldn’t be stopped. Harry fell from the bench in shock, sprawling out on the floor with a huge crashing sound, the invisibility cloak flying half-way off him in his fall and slipping down to his hip, exposing his wide-eyed face and upper body.
If the situation weren’t as serious as it was, Harry would probably have found the image of just his head and upper body lying around on the floor funny.
It was, however, anything else but funny. He was mortified. And looking at Malfoy, he seemed even more mortified, his bright red face unmoving and twisted into pure shock.
Parkinson looked surprised only for a few seconds before she was the first to recover. She stood up and sent Malfoy a reassuring smile. “I think you better sort this out on your own, boys!”, she exclaimed before she was gone.
The slam of the door snapped Harry out of his stupor and he quickly stood up and threw his cloak to the side, so he could be eye-to-eye with Malfoy.
“How long have you been here?”
“You’ve had a crush on me since second year?!”
The had shouted at the same time.
Malfoy’s face turned a strange shade of pale, paler than he usually was, and he looked like he was about to throw up.
“What are you talking about, Potter?”, he tried to deflect weakly, but Harry wouldn’t just let it go.
Somehow the idea of Malfoy having a crush on him filled him with a strange warmth. He couldn’t actually have a crush on Malfoy in return, could he?
Sure, Malfoy was quite handsome – more than that, really. He was beautiful, with his platinum blonde hair and steel-grey eyes. And his lean build and muscular chest – a result of all that Quidditch practice – made him look unbearably sexy, but that didn’t mean – did it?
Harry’s eyes widened as it slowly dawned on him.
Who was he kidding, he totally had a crush on one Draco Malfoy. Probably had been having one for years and he never even noticed! Hermione would be so disappointed in how oblivious he had been all this time.
He blushed as he let himself examine Malfoy for the first time now that he knew he had a crush on the boy.
“Oh, stop it”, he said, cutting short Malfoy’s attempts at denying what he had just told Parkinson. “I’ve clearly heard you say you have a crush on me! Is that true?”
Malfoy averted his eyes, a blush rising to his cheeks. “And what of it?”, he asked defiantly, trying to sound nonchalant.
Harry sighed annoyed at the answer that wasn’t really an answer. “Is it true?”, he asked again. “Do you have crush on me?”
“Why do you care?!” Malfoy’s head whipped around and his fiery eyes bored into Harry’s.
Harry, who hadn’t been expecting the outburst, just shrugged, somewhat awkwardly. “Because I might have just realised that I’ve been harbouring this ‘massive crush’ on you, too, and it would make me really happy if you did”, he said nervously, deciding that it was best to just be honest and put all his cards on the table.
Malfoy stared at him in indignation. “You ‘might have just realised’? What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”
“I thought you were familiar with the English language, Malfoy?”, Harry said cheekily. “It means I didn’t know until now but I just realised my feelings for you. Now, will you finally tell me if you really have a crush on me?”
Malfoy – he should probably start calling him Draco, Harry thought – looked like he was about to explode.
“I’ve had a crush on you for four whole years you absolute idiot, Potter!”