The Sleeping Beauty Curse

Chapter 17

"And does he like you?"

Harry didn't know. Except . . . he did know, didn't he? Draco definitely liked him. Harry just didn't know if Draco loved him. "Er, yes. I think so," Harry said uncomfortably. And then: "You're his friend too! Ask him yourself!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I have."

This time, Harry nearly knocked his plate off the table altogether. "Um," he said, wanting to shout AND WHAT DID HE SAY but simultaneously feeling too stupid to.

"If you're not sure how he feels," Hermione said, shoving in another mouthful; she'd nearly cleared her plate, "why don't you just ask him?" She swallowed hard, and then Vanished her plate. "Yum," she said. "Now, sorry to have to kick you out," she said, Harry finding himself already rising from his chair at her firm tone, "but I have too much to do." She leaned over her desk and gave him a swift hug. "It'll be all right," she said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "Just ask him. What's the worst that could happen?"

^^^^^^

The worst that could happen, Harry thought as Draco's face slid into complete incredulity as he stood in front of him, was that he was forced to Avada himself out of sheer embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," Draco said carefully. They were standing in the entrance hall of Harry's house, and Harry had barely got through the door and said hello before he'd launched straight in. "Did you just ask me if I fancied you?"

"Um, yes?" Harry said, but only because he had, and so he couldn't deny it.

"Like a thirteen year old girl?"

"Hey!" Harry said. "A thirteen year old boy is just as likely to ask that question too!"

Draco didn't look amused. "Maybe you should have got Hermione to send me a note. My friend fancies you," he said, putting on a shrill voice. "Tick 'yes' if you want to go with him, tick 'no' if you'd rather sit at home and pretend to read about Quidditch for yet another bloody evening because you're too embarrassed to be seen in public with him."

"I'm not too embarrassed to be seen in public with you!" Harry protested. "And you didn't answer the question!"

"Harry," Draco said, as if he couldn't believe he was saying it, "yesterday I let you touch my— While I—" he said incoherently. He'd gone red. "Of course I fancy you, you complete imbecile. Although I fancy you rather less right now!"

"Oh!" Harry said, and found he was grinning.

"Well?" Draco demanded, as if he was waiting for something else.

Harry felt himself heat up. "You know I fancy you too," he said, looking away. "You – you really turn me on." When he gathered the courage to look at Draco, Draco's face was twisted in something that wasn't entirely pleasant.

"Thanks," he said stiffly. "I see."

What the hell was wrong with him, Harry wondered. Couldn't he take a compliment? Surely Draco wasn't offended by the idea that Harry found him – well – sexy?

Draco seemed to sag in on himself for a moment, and then straightened up, plastering a smile on his face that was closer to a sneer than happiness. "Put on your glad rags, then, husband. We're going out tonight."

They were? Harry reran their conversation in his head, cringing a bit, and then said: "Oh, OK. Great. Nowhere too crowded, though, if we can."

Harry thought, after, that maybe he should just have been more explicit – that he really, really liked Draco and wanted to take him on a date where people didn't constantly stare at them, so he could really enjoy staring at Draco instead. But it didn't feel very smooth to just be that honest, and Draco had already laughed at him quite enough for one day.