Harry had never cried in front of Ron and Hermione.
Never.
Until now.
Suddenly, he was explaining everything. He hadn't quite planned to say everything, but the grounds were deserted, and he'd been able to cast the 'Muffliato' charm to prevent any unwanted beetles from eavesdropping and it all just sort of slipped out. He'd never meant to do something like this, to tell without asking Draco first if he could, but he couldn't find a way to explain it all without every piece of information. As well as that, he'd never been good at keeping things from Ron and Hermione before. It was now, more than ever, that he needed their comfort.
At first, he'd held it together; tried to explain his situation.
Ron and Hermione had been shocked into silence. He kept going. Started on the new timeline, all that had happened since the start of the loop, then, as he began to explain the changes they'd made to this timeline, he felt them. Tears.
Hot and wet and weak. He didn't know why he was crying, what was there to even cry over? He was only talking about Draco.
Draco.
Draco who he longed for.
He wished that it was Draco sat before him instead. He wished it was Draco he was crying to. Crying in front of. He loved Ron and Hermione, but it wasn't the same. It would never be the same. He could tell them, explain it all like some impossible story but they'd never feel it. They'd never know it, not like Draco did. Not like Harry did.
At the end, when he told them how Draco had pushed him away, and the tears were falling thick and fast, Hermione had broken.
"Oh, Harry!" She cried, throwing her arms around him and yanking him close, "It's okay," She soothed. Ron placed his arms around them, too, and they stayed like that for what could've been hours.
"It's okay, Harry. It'll be okay, you have us now." She kept whispering. Soothing. Loving.
Harry only buried his face further into her shoulder.
He felt stupid.
He was acting like a child. He was four years older than them, and acting like some silly toddler who didn't know how to regulate his own emotions.
"It's- it's not," he sniffed, pulling out of the hug. "I shouldn't have told you any of this, it's-" he sniffed again, "It's not fair to Draco, I- I told him we wouldn't tell anyone else. We both agreed on Sirius," Sniff, "and Snape together. I shouldn't have- I shouldn't.."
But Hermione was shushing him again, hand pressed to his back.
"Shhh, shhh, no it's okay! It's okay, look you can solve this. Just tell him what's happened okay, and we can-"
"No!" Harry interrupted, trying vainly to pull himself together a bit, "I can't! I can't see him again, not after that.."
"No, no you don't have to! Look, we can use Hedwig! We can owl him. Harry, it'll be alright. This won't ruin things. We won't tell anyone else, you know you can trust us with anything."
Harry brightened a little at the thought of not having to say it face to face.
"Yeah.. okay. Yeah, let's do that." Harry sniffled, wiping his eyes on his sleeve, "Sorry for, um," He gestured at his wet cheeks and puffy eyes.
"No! Don't apologise. It's okay. It's all going to be okay, Harry." She pulled him into a hug again, and he let his head rest heavily on her shoulder. She was handling it terribly well. If he was in their position he probably would've ran away or thrown up or something. Ron not so much, he hadn't really said anything in response, only placing a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder.
Harry pulled back to look at him, "Are you okay, Ron?"
Ron met his gaze. His face was steely. Angry.
"No."
"No?" Hermione asked, confused.
"No. I'm not bloody O.K!"
Harry blinked, taken aback by the outburst. It was expected that Hermione would take it better, however Harry hadn't anticipated anger. Perhaps Ron felt betrayed that he hadn't told him sooner?
"Why? Did I-? Is it because I didn't tell you before, or..?"
"No! It's because Malfoy is a bloody stupid prick, that's why!"
Now even Hermione looked aghast.
"Ron! What do you mean?!"
"What's gotten into him?! You go through all that, find out he loves you back, only for him to pull some high and mighty bullshit and say you can't be together?! Bull! Shit!" He shouted.
Harry's eyes flew wide.
"That's what you're upset about?!"
"Well that's what you're upset about, isn't it? Or else you'd have told us before about all this time travel shit. This love stuff is the new thing!"
Well. He did have a point there.
Harry sighed, "Well, yeah, but you can't exactly force him to go out with m-"
"Oh-ho-ho, oh yes I can!" Ron interrupted, grinning wickedly.
"Ron..?" Hermione inquired, growing increasingly concerned.
"That bastard isn't going to sit here all chuffed to bits thinking he's superior because he's got a weird inferiority complex about not deserving you. No way." Ron insisted.
"Ron, that's an oxymoron." Hermione pointed out.
"Don't care, didn't ask."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. Ron flushed, clearing his throat.
"Erm, I mean, uh, yes. Yes it is. How very silly of me."
Hermione smiled, satisfied.
"Right, anyways," Ron continued, "Don't you two worry about an owl. I'll get the message to him that we know."
Harry's eyes widened further still, "Wait, no- Ron-"
"Ah-ah, no. Don't worry your pretty little head, Harry." Ron said sarcastically, "I only want a little chat with Malfoy. That's it. Won't do anything compromising!"
With that, he stood up, heaving his bag onto his shoulder and striding off towards the castle.
"Wait. Wait! Ron!" Harry panicked, wobbling as he stood up hastily, "Ron, what are you doing? What are you going to say?!" Harry called.
"Don't worry! I'll be back in just a minute! Go see Hagrid, I only want a word!"
Harry's attempts to follow were futile. Ron was already halfway across the grounds by now, storming straight towards the castle, Malfoy-bound.
"You don't s'pose he's only gone to let him know you two know about the time travel, do you?"
Hermione winced, shaking her head. Harry sighed in defeat, sitting back down next to Hermione.
"Well. Rest in Peace, Draco Malfoy. He will be dearly missed. He really was shockingly fit."
—-
Draco was ruined.
"Come on, Draco, darling! Just talk to us!"
Pansy had been outside his bed, trying to no avail to yank open Draco's charmed curtains for the past five hours. As soon as he'd left Harry, he'd run straight to his dorm, past all the Slytherins and collapsed into his bed in a heap of pained sobbing. After twenty minutes of no-show, his friends had come to see where he'd gotten to, and to ask if he was okay. This then led to several attempts to draw him out of bed, before they all gave up, leaving Pansy to try all on her own.
Draco knew he must look terrible. His nose was snotty, his eyes were swollen and puffy and his face was undoubtedly red and streaked with tears. He probably looked like a toddler after a tantrum, but no amount of tears could reflect the grief he felt inside. It was as if someone had torn his heart out from his chest. It was as if when he'd walked away from Harry, he'd left his heart there with him.
"Please, Draco, tell me what's wrong! I can help you, darl."
"Go away!" He sobbed into his pillow.
"Draco! Come on! Just- just say if there's anything I can bring you? Anything I can do to help? We're all here for you, you know. All of us. Anything you need, darling, and we're here." She told him gently. He could feel her presence outside his bed, and really wished that he could tell her. But he couldn't, unless he wanted to say everything, otherwise she wouldn't be able to know why he was so upset. Why he couldn't be with Harry.
As she stood there, open and waiting and kind outside his bed, Draco remembered all the other times she'd been there for him.
When they'd been little, playing in his garden with their silly albino peacocks and Draco had roughed them up a bit too much, they'd pecked him and it bled. When Pansy, even at six years old, had been so much more mature than he had - he'd cried, and wailed, and wanted the peacocks to 'Go Away!', and he had wanted her to go away too, but she didn't. Little six-year-old Pansy had sat there next to him, untying her little silk bow and wrapping it carefully around his fingers. A bandage. A soft, silky bandage. And she'd loved that bow, she'd worn it every day. But she gave it up, for him, just to make him feel better.
Another bout of sobs overtook him.
If he would do anything in this godforsaken war this time around, he'd protect her.
Suddenly he wanted to tell her.
He wanted to tell her, not anyone else, just her.
He wanted her to sit next to him, and tell him he'd done the right thing and brush back his hair and soothe him like she'd done years ago even though she wouldn't remember. When he'd told her they had to break up, because he was gay, in fifth year, and she'd only smiled and said she knew and she was glad he'd been able to tell her himself.
"Pansy?" He mumbled, sniffling as he tried to rub some of the tears away.
"Yes? Yeah, Draco, are you okay?"
"Can you.. can you come in here?"
He let his wards fall.
"But- don't tell anyone else, I only want you here."
She pushed open the curtains, and at the sight of his tearful expression, her face crumbled.
"Oh, Draco, what's wrong?" She uttered sadly, yanking the curtains shut and climbing in next to him. She looped a slender arm around him, a comforting embrace. He put the wards back up, cast a silencing charm.
"If- if I tell you, can you promise me you won't tell anyone else?" He sniffled.
"Of course. I can make a vow, if you want."
Memories of vows and his mother and Snape flashed through his mind.
"No! No- don't- you don't have to do that. Just.. just don't tell anyone else, okay?"
She nodded, silent, waiting for him to begin. So he did. He explained all of it, just like he and Harry had for Snape and for Sirius. She was shocked, completely off guard, but she hid it well. She nodded in understanding as he got to the emotional bits, as he explained Harry's breakdown when he found out.
Then he told her about what happened earlier. His rejection. The kiss.
She sat up straight, pulling her arm from his back.
"You're fucking kidding."
Draco blinked in surprise, "W-what?"
"You did not do that."
"Erm.. yes, I did?"
She looked on the verge of a conniption. She took a deep, calming breath in.
"Draco, darling, sweetheart, angel. You are such a fucking idiot."
Draco glared at her.
"What?!"
"I love you so much. So, so much, I really do. But sometimes I truly cannot deal with you. How on earth, in what dimension, is that a good way to react to a kiss?"
"But I explained everything! You understand why, don't you? Come on, Pansy! I had to!" He pressed.
"No you didn't! God, Draco, I know you thought you were doing what's good for Harry but you really fucked that up."
"No, we wouldn't be good together because he deserves-"
"No. Stop." Pansy cut him off, "Just stop, for a second, okay? Because I think I should explain this to you. Harry obviously tried, but he was emotional at the time so clearly it didn't come across very well. Right, Draco, just listen to me now. Don't interrupt."
Draco nodded reluctantly. When Pansy said not to interrupt, one would do best not to interrupt.
"You have a pretty clear idea of what's right and wrong, right? And before you worry, that's not a bad thing. When you were younger you did, too. You thought things were black and white, mud- er, muggleborns bad, purebloods good. Now, I think it's the same, only reversed."
Draco raised his eyebrows.
"You think because you were on what your mind says is the 'bad side', that you shouldn't mingle with the 'good side'. That it would be wrong. But that's not true. Because sometimes, like now, it isn't about whether Harry would've chosen you had this never happened, and it's not about whether you were a Death Eater and he was the Chosen One, because sometimes it's not black and white."
Draco frowned, considering her words.
"Think about it this way, imagine that someone liked to use Dragon Hyde boots, because their whole life they'd been told that was what's in fashion, and that that was what was good. But then, they got older and found out more types of fashion existed, and realised that wearing Dragon Hyde - whilst fashionable - was hurting dragons, so they stopped. They then started wearing plant-made boots instead. You wouldn't say that person was bad, would you?"
Draco shook his head.
"You wouldn't say that it was their fault for thinking Dragon Hyde boots were the only thing in fashion, and that they were wrong for wearing them before they knew better?"
Again, Draco shook his head.
"And you wouldn't say, that because they'd used to wear Dragon Hyde boots, they didn't deserve to touch the non-hunted, fairly made boots?"
Draco sighed, hunching his shoulders, "Okay, I see where you're going with this."
Pansy nodded, "Exactly. Because that's you and Harry. It's not your fault that you made mistakes when you were younger, nobody blames you for that. Especially not Harry. People can change Draco, and just because you have condemned yourself to a life of punishment, it doesn't mean that's what you deserve."
"But-"
Pansy silenced him with a pointed look.
"But most importantly, more importantly than any of that - even though that definitely is important - just because you want to punish yourself, it doesn't mean you should take that from Harry, too. It would be one thing to deprive yourself of his affection because you feel unworthy, but to let him know that you feel the same as he does, but that he can't have you? That's not fair. You may not think that you're good enough for him but—unfortunately—you don't get to decide what you're worth to other people. That's up to them."
"So you're saying I shouldn't have ever told him?"
"No, darling. You know what I'm saying."
Draco did. He hated it, because it was stupid and unfair and it was so much effort to unpack all of that emotional trauma he'd been dealt by his parents and the past and everything else, but more than anything he hated it because she was so terribly, irrevocably right. He was robbing Harry of a chance to love and be loved, and that wasn't fair. He didn't want to face this, all this shit and emotional baggage and all of it, but if there was anyone he would be willing to try for, it was the girl in front of him, and Harry.
Draco was about to tell her that, tell her she was right and that he'd fix it, when a voice next to his bed stoped him.
"Draco? Pansy? Are you in there?" Blaise's voice sounded from outside.
Draco pulled down the wards, sliding the curtain open fully.
"Yeah, what is it?" He asked.
"Hate to break up this little girl-talk," Blaise grinned at his own hilarity, "But Weasley is outside the Common Room. He's looking for you, Draco. He doesn't look pleased."
Draco winced, "Oh. Hm, yes I should deal with that, I think."
"Yep." Blaise pursed his lips, and Draco got up from the bed to face his impending ginger doom.
"Don't get beaten up, darling!" Pansy called to him as he left.
Draco braced himself for the onslaught of anger from Weasley, "I'll try!" He called back.
When Draco stepped out into the cold dungeon hallway, it was exactly as he had expected. There stood Weasley, raging and tall and frightening, and Draco swallowed.
"Hello, Ron." He said tentatively.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Draco sighed, so much for niceties.
"Before you beat me up, I want to tell you. I am going to fix it. I know, I was an idiot. I was wrong, I shouldn't have turned Harry away. I was all the mean names under the sun, okay? But I will fix this. You can hold me to that."
Ron relaxed at once, "Oh!"
Draco snorted, "Yes. 'Oh.'"
"Great! That's- that's really great. And surprisingly self-aware. Right, okay then. Only other thing, in that case, Harry told us. Everything. Me and Hermione. Nobody else would've heard, it was only us, but he said you deserved to know and he's sorry he didn't ask your permission."
Draco cocked his head with surprise, "Oh!"
"Oh?" Ron questioned.
"Yes, 'Oh!', because I just did the exact same thing with Pansy."
"Oh!"
"Mhm."
"Okay, that's good then. At least this way neither of you can really be angry with each other."
"Yes, that's true."
"Right, er- oh yes. One last thing." Weasley said, stepping in to Draco's personal space. The couple of inches he had on him felt rather intimidating all of a sudden, despite his lankiness, and Draco resisted the urge to take a step back.
"If once this is all sorted, you and Harry are together, you better not bloody pull anything like this ever again. Hermione has a mean right hook, unless you've forgotten, and I'm sure she'd be readily capable of using it for a second time."
Draco grinned, at last something he could agree with.
"Ah, no, Weasley, you needn't worry. If any single thing happens to Harry from here on out you can fully trust that I will burn this fucking place to the ground with everyone inside it." He said calmly.
Ron stepped back, brightening.
"Oh, great! Something we can agree on, then." He held out his hand to shake. Draco took it, "And for the record, Malfoy, I'll make sure he treats you right, too."
"Oh no, don't fret." He smirked, "I have Pansy for that."