Wrong (Drarry fanfic)

Chapter 17

Draco's POV

Well, I couldn't deny it anymore. I definitely liked Harry back, even if it was just the tiniest crush. I could feel it in me, I could feel its potential to blow up into something so huge and serious and amazing... and I didn't want to stop it. After all, Harry had accepted me. He knows I fought on the wrong side, hurt so many people, and yet he's still here, making me feel like I could be loved, making me feel like I deserved to be loved.

How many other people know would do the same? The Slytherins and my parents didn't count, of course, because they fought on the wrong side believing it was right. I fought on the wrong side, knowing it was wrong, and yet I didn't do anything to stop it. The Slytherins and my parents love me solely for the fact that I was a 'hero' on their side. Nobody else would. Not one Ravenclaw, Gryffindor or Hufflepuff... except for this one messy-haired, green eyed boy who believed in me when no one else would.

I sank on to my bed, finally understanding just how much Harry meant to me. I had only really become friends with him in the last couple of weeks, and yet he was now the most important person in my life, and I had an undeniable crush on him.

I was jealous when he even just hugged Ginny, and when he told me that he had boyfriends (PLURAL) in the past I just about exploded with envy. No. He was MY Harry, my boy with the crooked glasses and serious face and a sarcastic sense of humor. Sure, we weren't dating, but just thinking about him with someone else made me want to punch something.

God. I was so possessive, and he didn't even know I was gay. I debated whether to tell him or not, but I was worried that he would think I was making fun of him for having a crush on him (something my old self would have done). I honestly didn't even know what I could do to tip him off without him thinking I was mocking him.

Maybe kiss a random hot guy at a club or something? I thought about it, and then crossed that off the list, too. The only person I wanted to kiss was Harry. I could maybe talk about how hot some dude was, trying to tip him off, but he was just so oblivious about this kind of stuff... I remembered when I had accidently let slip that I thought Harry Styles and Liam Payne were cute, and he hadn't even batted an eyelash.

I bashed my head into my pillow, frustrated. There was really nothing I could do, was there? Just spend all my time with him, KNOWING that he liked me but also knowing that he wouldn't believe me if I told him the feeling was mutual.

The afternoon passed by as I tried to think of ways to tip Harry off discreetly, but nothing was good. Harry himself checked on me a couple times, obviously worried... after all, I had shut myself in my room and refused to come up. When suppertime came, I looked around for Harry but all I found was a note saying that he had gone out shopping. I microwaved myself a meal and then retreated to my room, where I ended up falling asleep, still frustrated with myself.

The next morning I was up early, and could hear Harry's soft snores from the room next door. I decided that I was going to make breakfast for him. Harry had taught me the basic use of a computer, so I searched for a recipe for pancakes. When I found one I liked, I got all the ingredients and set them on the clean counter.

I stared at them for a couple seconds, and then back at the screen. Finally I got to work, mixing, adding ingredients, and cracking eggs - which I wasn't exactly great at. I grimaced as I looked at the hard white eggshells that had somehow found their way into the batter.

It wasn't until I had put the first one into the pan when I realized that I didn't know when they would be done. The recipe said to cook until they were 'golden brown', but how was I supposed to know when that was if that side was facing down.

Remembering what Harry had told me last night, that it seemed to take longer if I stared at it, I walked away and watched a bit of Doctor Who while I waited. It wasn't until I could smell burning when I realized I had messed up. Running back into the kitchen, I looked at the pan, horrified. There was smoke rising up from the batter, which was scarily dark and stuck to the metal.

Worried, I ran cool water over it and did my best to scrape the burnt food from the bottom of it. Then I tried again, and again. None of my attempts were better than the first, no matter how much I paid attention to it. Finally Harry came down the stairs, sleepily, to find me collapsed on the floor, disappointed with my failure.

"What happened in here?" he looked around at the dirty cooking tools that I had used in my desperate attempts at making breakfast.

"I wanted to make pancakes." I muttered.

"Draco! You couldn't have waited until I was downstairs?"

"I guess not."

He shook his head, but he was smiling, obviously relieved that I had come out of my room. "Let's clean up this mess and then I'll show you how to make them without burning them."

We were done with the cleanup about half an hour later, and he brought out the ingredients again. He made them quickly and easily, and before long there was a plate piled with steaming pancakes ready on the table.

"Thanks, Harry." I bit my lip, embarrassed that my plan to make breakfast for him hadn't exactly worked out the way I had wanted it to.

"No problem."

Once we were done eating the food that we had made together, Harry suggested teaching me how to bake something a bit easier; cookies.

He printed off a recipe and handed it over to me. "Butter, sugar, eggs... I think we have all we need. You ready?"

"Ready," I tapped the spatula against the kitchen counter and grinned at him.

Together we followed the instructions. Harry read them aloud and then helped me follow them. The hardest part was definitely the eggs, which I couldn't get a hang of no matter how hard I tried.

"Try tapping it lightly against the edge of the bowl."

I tried, but no change came over the egg. He smiled. "A bit harder."

I did, and the egg exploded in my hand.

Finally he gave up, and put his hand over mine to help me get the right amount of force. I could see his cheeks colouring up at the contact, and could feel the same heat in my face, too. I felt as though I was a little girl with her first crush: flustered and nervous but yet happier than anyone else could fathom.

After a couple tries with Harry's guidance, I was able to do it on my own. He let go of my hand and busied himself with measuring the flour. When all the ingredients were mixed and ready, we scooped out spoon-sized balls of the dough and set them on a cookie pan. Not long after the sweet smell of fresh cookies, sugary and warm, wafted out of the oven. I couldn't resist checking on them every minute or so, making sure they weren't burnt; I had enough experience with the pancakes to know that it was only too easy to accidentally forget about cooking food.

When they were done, we took a plate into the living room and I introduced him to Doctor Who. And sitting in front of the TV, eating the cookies that we had made together, I knew that this was now my home, a home without expectations or rules from my parents, a home where I was able to live with the guy I knew that I had feelings for.

And I loved it.

Author's Note:

The author's note on my last post didn't show up for some reason, so I really hope that this one is visable. :)

BUT HEY I UPDATED IN LESS THAN A WEEK SO THAT'S AN IMPROVEMENT RIGHT!

Ohmygosh at school we had an entire class meeting about my story. Two guys named Ethan and Daniel brought it up and then we spent what seemed like FOREVER talking about it and I was just kind of sinking lower in my seat not wanting to tell them. Finally my teacher said that it was my choice whether I wanted to share it or not, and that I would show them when I was ready. Thank you, Ms. Donald, if you ever read this.

Love,

Raven