Part Six
Say You Love Me
Harry had once heard Parvati and Lavender discuss relationships, when they were sitting in the Divinations Tower, awaiting Professor Trelawney. He hadn’t been paying them any attention but their voices were such that they claimed his attention. They were too loud and too high pitched for him to ignore.
“The first five months are always wonderful,” Parvati had said.
Lavender had made an agreeing noise. “After that, the yapping starts,” she said.
Parvati flipped her hair. “The fights, the disagreements. Five months, that’s your honeymoon and after that comes the real test of the relationship.”
Harry had dismissed this as girl talk exchanged between two people who considered themselves to be relationship experts.
He had definitely not thought they’d be right.
Harry wasn’t quite sure when they’d started to have arguments. He believed it was sometime in September, which would prove Parvati and Lavender’s five-month-rule correct. He couldn’t remember what they’d been talking about – all he knew was that suddenly, they’d raised their voices at each other and it had ended with Draco leaving the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
The second time, Harry remembered that Draco had slipped into old habits and referred to Hermione as ‘Mudblood’. Harry didn’t know why he’d reacted so violently.
After the third time, Harry had started thinking about Parvati and Lavender’s rule; after the fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh, Harry understood they’d been right. By now, Harry had lost count of their fights. Today, it was ‘Draco’s turn’ to explode when Harry made a comment about Gregory Goyle Jr.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Draco screamed at him. The argument had grown into a shouting match of epic proportions.
“Why are you protecting him? He was a Death Eater! He would have killed you if he’d had the chance!” Harry yelled back, not understanding why Draco wouldn’t see reason.
“He was my friend!” Draco yelled. “I know it’s really hard for you Gryffindors to get it through your scull, but even though we Slytherins may be seen as the Devil’s spawn, we’re still humans and we’re still friends to each other and as friends, we stand up for each other!”
“Do all Slytherins usually try to kill each other?” Harry said loudly to get a syllable in.
“I betrayed them!” Draco yelled at him. There were angry red spots on his cheeks. “I turned to the other side, to their enemy – of course they wanted to kill me! Wouldn’t you have wanted to kill the Weasel if he’d turned to Voldemort’s side?”
Harry opened his mouth to reply, but found that he wasn’t quite sure how to respond.
Draco sneered at him. “I thought so.”
Then he turned on his heel and left the room, head held high.
Hermione arrived when Harry was moping in the living room. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and her robes swished around her short frame as she walked.
“What’s wrong, Harry?” she asked as soon as she saw him, a concerned wrinkle appearing between her brows.
“Nothing,” Harry said, trying to pretend to read the book on his lap.
Hermione raised an eyebrow, looking quite a lot like Draco all of a sudden. “Don’t give me that,” she said. She took the book from his lap and said, “You know, I’m all for you reading, but I don’t think holding it upside down would make you get through it any faster.”
Harry blushed, looking down at his hands.
“Now,” Hermione said. “Time to spill.”
Harry raked a hand through his hair. “It’s just— me and Draco,” he said, shrugging. “We had a fight.”
Hermione frowned at this. “But you guys don’t fight. I thought you would, but you never did.”
“No, I know, but now— it feels like all we do,” Harry said. “I don’t know how many fights we’ve had in the last couple of weeks.”
Hermione pulled another chair closer to Harry’s and sat down. “What do you fight about?”
Harry shrugged again. “I don’t know. Stupid things. Well, today wasn’t stupid, it was about Goyle, but— mostly it seems like it’s stuff we shouldn’t fight about at all. We haven’t fought about it before – why are we doing it now?”
“Have you tried to talk to Draco?” Hermione asked.
Harry shook his head. “Every time we try to talk, we end up screaming at each other for one reason or another. That or having sex.”
Hermione chuckled. “You’re lucky you’re talking to me and not to Ron.”
Harry smiled back at her. “Yes.”
They were silent for a few moments, then Hermione said, “I think you’re just experiencing some sort of— transition, I suppose, into a deeper relationship. You guys have been together for a while now and up until now, it’s been necessary to keep a united front to weather everything post-Voldemort and everything with the press. Now the reporters aren’t sleeping outside the gates anymore and Voldemort is becoming a bit more of a memory – and because of that, your relationship changes.”
Harry just looked at her for a few seconds, trying to process her words. They rang true enough. Perhaps a combination of Hermione’s explanation, Lavender and Parvati’s rule and a bit of just Harry and Draco’s personalities – perhaps all those things was what was wrong at the moment.
“Do you tell him that you love him?” Hermione asked.
Harry snapped back to the present. “Tell him?”
Hermione nodded. “Yes, tell him.”
“I— I haven’t,” Harry said. “I haven’t told him.”
“Ever?” Hermione sounded surprised.
“I have told him – you know, in passing,” Harry said. It sounded confused even to his own ears. “But I’ve never made sure he really understands it. I don’t know. I— He proclaimed his love for me on his deathbed – I haven’t exactly done the same.”
“You don’t have to do the same,” Hermione said. As an afterthought, she added, “In fact, I really hope you won’t be put in the position that you’ll have to even consider it.”
Harry smiled slightly.
“Do you love him? More than just ‘in passing’, as you put it?” Hermione asked.
“I don’t know,” Harry admitted quietly. “I— I don’t know what it feels like. What if I think it’s love and it’s not – or what if I can’t recognise that I—”
He trailed off uncertainly.
Hermione closed her eyes, a small smile on her lips. She took Harry’s hand and squeezed it lightly. “Does he make you happy?”
Harry nodded, swallowing. “But so do you and Ron and I don’t think I love either of you that way.”
Hermione ignored him. “Does being around him make you feel good? Secure? Loved?”
Again, Harry nodded.
“Do you like to hold him, to have him near? Do you like to touch him, to kiss him?”
“I do, Hermione, but— can’t that just be attraction?” Harry’s voice wavered.
Hermione looked down, then met Harry’s gaze squarely. “Harry, I can’t tell you whether you truly love Draco or not. I can’t ask the questions that will make you certain, because if you love him, you’re the only one who will know. And I think you do know; if you really want to see it.”
Harry stared at her, then studied his hands when her intent gaze became too much. Finally he asked quietly, “Do you love anyone?”
Hermione smiled slightly. “Yes, I do.”
Harry looked at her. “Does he know?”
She just kept smiling and stood up. “Talk to Draco, Harry,” she said. “Not everything will be solved at once, but nothing at all will be solved if you never start trying.”
Then she left and Harry was left sitting in his chair, staring at the empty chair and wondering just what their conversation meant.
Harry knocked lightly on the door to their bedroom. “Draco?”
He heard shuffling inside and a second later, the door opened. A dishevelled Draco stood in the opening, looking at him with tired eyes. “Harry.”
Harry took a hesitant step forward and placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder. Draco didn’t react.
“Let’s talk,” Harry said softly.
Draco looked warily at him and then nodded slowly. Harry’s hand dropped from Draco’s shoulder and they walked into the bedroom and sat down on the bed. Draco leaned against the headboard, hugging a pillow to his chest.
“I— I’m sorry for what I said before,” Harry said, stumbling over the words because he didn’t know where to start. “About Goyle. I didn’t mean to imply that Slytherins are bad friends or—”
“I know, Harry,” Draco said softly, interrupting him before he could start ranting.
“You do?”
Draco looked away. “We’ve been fighting a lot lately.”
Harry nodded.
“I don’t like it,” Draco said, meeting Harry’s gaze.
“I don’t either.” Harry took a shuddering breath. “But I don’t know how to fix it.”
Draco smiled, ever so slightly and a warmth spread through Harry at the sight. “You can’t fix it,” he said. At Harry’s horrified expression, he added, “Not by yourself. This is something we have to do together. Fix together.”
“Do you think it’s fixable?”
“You’ve killed the Dark Lord and I have spied for years,” Draco said. “I think fixing this relationship is definitely something we can do.”
“This is harder than killing the Lord of Nothing and spying,” Harry said, attempting to make the situation a little bit less serious. He seemed to have succeeded, for Draco’s smiled widened a bit. “This is making two very different people function together.”
Draco nodded. “I still think we can do it.”
“It’ll take work,” Harry said.
“And dedication.”
“And trust.”
They were suddenly mere inches apart. Harry could feel Draco’s hot, shivering breath on his lips. Draco’s grey eyes gazed into Harry’s. Trust was written clearly over Draco’s features, even though he seemed uncharacteristically nervous. There was something else as well, something Harry had seen before, heard Draco say, but Harry had still chosen not to notice.
“I love you,” Draco said, the words a mere whisper, confirming Harry’s beliefs.
Harry felt the uncertainty rise within yet for the first time, there was also something so clear, something so perfect.
“I love you too, Draco,” he said finally. As he said it, he realised it was true and he understood what Hermione had said; that deep down, Harry had known all along. He gave a small, happy sigh. “I really, truly love you.”
Then Draco smiled for real, for the first time in months.
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