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All of my works are posted mainly on AO3 (username: iguer);
My complete fic index and where to read them can be found on ikvero.tumblr.com
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That was the one thing Harry decided not to tell his friends. He couldn't put his finger upon the exact reason, but he just didn't feel like sharing that. Somewhere inside there was a hint that the reason was that he was ashamed, but he didn't admit it to himself. And of course that was absurd. Why would he be ashamed of something Draco Malfoy had said?

The only possible connection that could make him feel ashamed, or even slightly embarrassed, was he caring about anything Malfoy had to say, and of course, he didn't. So no, overhearing Draco talking to Moaning Myrtle meant nothing to Harry. He was only curious as to what it all meant. Had he heard correctly? Yes, he had, he was sure of it. He remembered everything with vivid detail, the boredom for not having anything to do since it was the second to last day of term, the anxiety of coming home to the Dursleys. He had decided to just pace around, just so he did something, instead of lying in bed watching the ceiling, maybe he'd find someone to chat or something like that.

He had found himself on the corridor of Myrtle's bathroom and before he knew, he was walking towards it. He'd noticed the door was ajar and in the last second, just before he pushed it wide open, he had heard voices inside, which had brought him out of his boredom stupor; also, not Myrtle's voice, which had made him pay attention to it. He had looked through the gap and saw that the coast was clear, he could open the door a little wider and sneak in, it was possible to stay hidden at the side of the closest stall. He did just that and listened. Draco's voice, whining like a child with a broken toy.

Ugh, such a spoiled baby, Harry had thought to himself.

"Why did this have to happen to me?" Draco had asked.

"It's okay, Draco, it happens with everyone."

"But, why me? And why him?" The last word was stressed with spite, but also, it felt like maybe there was more in there, a little... hurt?

"Come, now, Draco, it's not the end of the world," Myrtle had said.

"Yeah, but it certainly feels like it is," Draco had answered. "Oh, god, of everyone in this place, if could be anyone, anyone. Why him?" He had paused to exhale a big breath, then continued, "And it's for real, you know, it really is. I tried to deny it to myself, to convince me it was just a crush, that it'd go away, but it's not, it is for real, Myrtle. Oh, god, I'm in love with him. What would my father say to that?"

"Are you planning on telling him?"

"Oh, my god, no! He can't know, he'd kill me if he knew. He'd kill me," he had paused, and when he spoke again, he sounded like he was crying, "I hate that this is happening, and I hate him!"

"He's not guilty, you know?"

"Of course I know he's not, but still, I hate him. I fucking hate Potter!"

Harry had been trying to make sense of things, but that just didn't fit. What did that mean? He tried to snoop around the corner of the stall, maybe seeing the scene helped it seem more real, because up to that point it had only felt like a crazy dream.

He carefully had looked carefully around the wooden stall corner and certainly had seen Draco Malfoy by a sink and Moaning Myrtle by his side. He had only been able to catch a few moment's glance, though, because right on cue Draco had looked to his reflection in the mirror, then had shifted his gaze to somewhere over his reflection's shoulder and had said, "hey! Who's there!?"

Harry then had instantly turned to the door and run.

Did he see me? He had thought to himself. No, he can't have. Or can he?

Midway through his summer, he still had the same question floating around his mind. Did he see it was me? That question was accompanied only by all the others he had. What was all that? He was talking about me all the time? It had to be, by the looks of it, but it makes no sense!

Why would Draco say those things? Why would he be talking about Harry? What did he mean with "he thought it was just a crush, but it was for real"? None of that made any sense. Malfoy having a crush on Harry? Malfoy? Another reason for him to decide to not tell any of this to his friends was that they wouldn't believe him; he, for one, would never believe if he was Ron or Hermione. He still didn't quite believe it even being there when it happened.

Deep inside the confusion and curiosity made him feel something he didn't dare admit to himself. He was eager to go back to Hogwarts, more specifically, to go to Hogwarts and see Malfoy again. It was all very confusing and he wasn't gonna rest until he met Malfoy again and got some answers from him.

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