Work Text:
You’re Not Gay?
Draco turned his nose up and passed the box of sphinx tongues to Theo. The biscuit and gooseberry marmalade creations were far too cloying for his taste, six had been his limit. He was a Malfoy after all, he possessed a sense of propriety.
Up far too late, the fifth-year Slytherin boys sat in a circle reliving their exploits of the day as they stuffed their faces of sugary treats way past the point of sensibleness.
Blaise recounted his foray into the amazing world of illicit study potions; apparently the Ravenclaws had a whole ring. The way Blaise told it, how he’d spied, followed the clues, elicited the help of informants, Draco had been saddened for his friend that he’d never have a chance to become a real Auror. Unfortunately for Blaise, his mother had made it clear that a Zabini would never be something so banal.
Crabbe and Goyle grunted their way through their telling of how they’d ‘apprehended’ the Gaelimpy twins from Hufflepuff for loitering around the library. Draco didn’t understand what could be so compelling about punishing a Hufflepuff, but he’d applauded their efforts nonetheless.
When it finally came to be his turn, Draco had haughtily shared that he’d caught Potter and the Weasel with a naughty magazine right outside the Quidditch locker rooms. He’d told Umbridge at once of course, it’d been his duty; and for his efforts the Slytherins had been awarded fifty points. Naturally, Potter and Weasley had lost Gryffindor a hundred each. Smirking, Draco thought back to how powerless Potter had been, how enraged he’d looked, and yet there was nothing he could do.
“It was a terrible magazine anyway. Hardly worth the points lost for those pathetic lions,” Draco said with a scoff. Grabbing a toffee twist, he slipped it into the corner of his mouth and sucked. “Not a man anywhere in there. Can you believe it?”
Brows furrowed, Blaise asked, “No men? What do you mean, Draco?”
Draco pulled the toffee twist out of his mouth with a pop and languidly held it out. “I mean there were only women,” he answered with a spot of annoyance. “Potter, for all of his terrible Muggle upbringing, had the good sense to look revolted. But Merlin, the Weasel was salivating over it.” A shiver of disgust passed through Draco.
Theo’s softly questioning voice made Draco snap his head to his right. “Mate… Why wouldn’t there be women?”
Wondering if perhaps he'd said something wrong, Draco remained silent. His mounting panic made his wide eyes flit back and forth between his friends. Was he the odd one out? No that couldn’t be.
A sudden bark of laughter from Blaise made him jump. “Draco—Mate. You do realise that most skin mags for men have women right?”
“Of course I realise that!” Draco hissed.
“Are you—are you sure?” Another howl of laughter from Blaise. “Cause you don’t look sure.”
Draco was miffed now. How dare they act as if they knew more than him? He crossed his arms before speaking. “Of course there would be women. I just don’t see why there has to be a magazine full of them. Women are nice once in a while, but let’s not pretend that they’re what you want most of the time.”
A muffled snort escaped Theo, and Blaise now had literal tears running down his face. Wiping his cheeks, Blaise did his best to croak out his next words between fits of laughter. “Salazar, you’re so gay you thought everyone else was too!”
Theo couldn’t hold his laughter in anymore and a loud guffaw burst out of him.
“I like women too!” Draco shouted.
”Barely,” Theo said grinning.
“You’re not gay?” Draco asked. He was desperate now. “Please, don’t act as if I’m the only one like this.”
“You truly are, mate. I’m straight as can be,” Blaise said.
“You’re having me on,” Draco spat. “Everyone’s gay, I know it.”
Theo had fallen backwards and was now out for the count. Draco didn’t care, he didn’t need someone who was so busy laughing he couldn’t even hold himself upright participating in this conversation.
”Crabbe, Goyle!” Blaise shouted.
The two meatheads grunted in unison.
“Are either one of you gay?” Blaise demanded.
Goyle shook his head and Crabbe answered with, “I don’t think so.”
“See,” Blaise pushed.
A burning flush travelled up Draco’s neck and across his face. They well and truly weren’t pulling his leg. He’d just outed himself without even knowing. It wasn’t a particularly big deal, his parents wouldn’t care, but nonetheless this was not how he’d have liked to have gone about it. This was Hagrid’s fault. The big oaf had been tasked with giving them the sex talk in third year and he must’ve said something backwards. All Draco could recall was staring at the back of Potter’s messy head while the half-breed droned on about things which should’ve been given to Madam Pomfrey to explain. Somehow, someway, Draco had got it into his head that most people were gay and the minority were straight and tasked with coming out at some point.
Immediately, he pushed himself off the ground. This was too embarrassing, he had to flee and find a way to blackmail all four of them to keep their mouths shut.
“Ah don’t be like that, Draco!” Blaise taunted from the floor. He had a glint in his eyes.
Draco didn’t trust the glint.
Saying nothing, he swiftly turned and began to leave. The door to the common room was in reach, he’d almost escaped when he heard Blaise call out behind him, “At least you’re in good company! From what you said, the Boy Who Lived is as straight as you!”
Draco didn’t stop to show he’d heard him, but he’d most certainly had. Blaise’s parting words had granted him some measure of comfort. If there was one thing Draco had always promised, it was that he would have Harry Potter. Only now it seemed it would be with Draco taking him apart in bed.