Harry somehow managed to keep mum about the latest developments regarding Stephen—his fake name for Severus within the therapy sessions—to Amelia when they met the following afternoon. Instead, he talked about how since Ron had paired up with Lavender, that his best friend didn't seem to have time for him anymore. By the same token, he mentioned how considerate Hermione had been, in the wake of her relationship with Anthony, and how she always was sure to make time for him.

Ron's seventeenth birthday was the next significant event on the books and, in the weeks leading up to it, Hermione helped Harry with his chemistry reading and notes. Once he read the footnotes and brushed up on his notetaking skills while in class, and read the portions in the textbook that Hermione mentioned would be beneficial, he felt more confident as time went by. In fact, he was no longer failing his papers; he was getting Very Good written at the tops of his papers now. He found that it didn't even bother him that Hermione was still getting Excellent; this meant that, when it was time to take his A-Levels a year later, if he kept this up, then he would be on track to get into a halfway decent university.

Ron's birthday fell on a Saturday, and so Harry, Ron, Hermione, Lavender, Ginny, Dean, Luna, Neville, Seamus, Rolf, and Anthony all ended up journeying down to the pier not too far away from Wartsmoth. Fred and George joined them, leaving London for the day, and got them into the restaurant that was close by. Once they got to the restaurant on the pier, they ate fish and chips wrapped in newspaper around the firepit outside, and smelled the sea air. It was an unseasonably warm late-winter evening, and they all watched the sunset together as they all toasted Ron, celebrating him turning seventeen.

The owners knew Fred and George from their time at Wartsmoth, and, provided that they acted responsibly, permitted their party some bottles of beer that evening. The Wartsmoth campus was only about a fifteen minute walk from the restaurant, so it wasn't as if they'd be operating any heavy machinery that night. They passed around the dark-brown bottles of Belhaven Scottish Oat Snout, recalling amusing memories associated with Ron as they lounged around the firepit on the beach, Trinity Crescent, as they watched the waves lap up soundlessly onto the sands' edge.

"Won-Won, how about a game?" Lavender asked after a few moments of silence, and snuggled closer to Ron. "I'll bet even Granger would like one," she sneered.

"All right," Ron said, taking a sip of beer, and Harry turned to Hermione, who snuggled in closer to Anthony at the comment from Lavender.

"You've got to go first, Ron," Fred said.

"After all," George continued, "you're the birthday boy."

Ron rolled his eyes, and drank deeply from his beer bottle. "Fine," he muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and sat up. "Harry, truth or dare?"

Harry rolled his eyes, gripping his bottle tightly. "Truth."

"How many times did you snog my sister?"

Ginny flushed. "Ron!" she shouted.

"Hey, I don't mind if Harry doesn't," Dean said with a shrug, as Harry had told him of his preferences shortly before the Christmas holidays.

Ginny huffed slightly, leaning back towards Dean, who put an arm around her shoulders. "Well, all right. As long as Harry doesn't mind."

Harry sighed. "Fine," he said, swirling his beer in its bottle. "Five or six, maybe? I'm not really a hundred-percent..."

Ron gave a nod. "Fair enough. Your turn, Harry."

Harry swallowed another mouthful of beer before turning to Fred. He was plenty buzzed now, and knew that 'reckless' was not something he should be participating in, however, he was a teenager, and he wanted to live a little. "Fred, truth or dare?"

Fred laughed. "Dare."

Harry grinned mirthlessly then. "I dare you to snog George."

Fred turned to George, who looked equally amused. "Well, brother?" he asked.

George shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time," he said.

Harry's jaw dropped then as Fred yanked George into a tight embrace, and their lips seemed to meet almost instantly. He looked around, to see that Lavender looked slightly horrified, Neville looked bemused, Hermione and Anthony were shocked, Luna and Rolf didn't appear to care one way or the other, and Ron... Well, Ron, he...

"Really?!" Ron demanded, his eyes blazing. "It was bad enough when I had to cover for you both with Mum and Dad, but this is—"

"Oh, calm down, little brother," George said, breaking his kiss with Fred, who lay his head down on his twins' shoulder.

"Right. It's not all bad..."

"It's a crime!" Lavender squawked. "Not that Granger would think so..."

Fred rolled his eyes. "Can it, Lav-Lav," he said, and Lavender flushed, but lowered her eyes, and Hermione was, at last, amused. "All right, then. Luna, truth or dare?"

Luna smiled. "Truth."

"What are your plans after graduation?"

"You mean, besides marrying Rolf?" she asked, and Rolf put his hand in hers. "Probably something to do with wildlife conservation. I've been looking into attending National University of Ireland in Galway."

"Nice," Fred said with a nod. "Your turn, Luna."

"Very well," Luna replied. "Hermione, truth or dare?"

"Dare," Hermione said.

"This should prove to be interesting," Lavender said softly, the snide comment not lost on either Harry or Anthony, but Luna spoke again, preventing them from calling her out.

"I dare you to tell us how far have you and Anthony gone," Luna said quietly.

Hermione swallowed, flushing slightly as she turned to Anthony. "I... I don't want to presume that you wouldn't..."

"It's all right," Anthony said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "They're our friends. If you're comfortable, I don't mind them knowing."

"They haven't done a bloody thing," Lavender put in, and Hermione's jaw set. "It's perfectly obvious how virtuous Granger is."

"Just oral sex," Hermione said softly, raising her eyes to look at Luna, and Harry marveled at the pride in her body language and voice as she did so.

"What?!" Ron demanded, and Lavender turned to Ron, glaring at him.

"That's wonderful, Hermione," Luna said, smiling at her.

"Ginny next, I think," Hermione said, turning to her and ignoring both Ron and Lavender. "Truth or dare."

"Dare," Ginny said with a grin.

"Are you in love with Dean?" Hermione asked.

Ginny bit her lip, an attractive blush creeping up from her neck and spreading to her cheeks, as Dean kept his eyes on her the entire time. "Yes," she said quietly.

Dean beamed at the declaration from her and squeezed her hand, prompting Ginny to raise her eyes to his. "I love you, too, Gin," he said.

Ginny let out a squeal and promptly threw her arms around Dean, snogging him for all he was worth, before coming up for air. "Um... Rolf, truth or dare?"

"Truth," Rolf said.

"Where's the strangest place you and Luna have hooked up?"

Rolf smirked as Luna giggled at that. "Let's see... On or off-campus?"

"Doesn't matter," Ginny replied. "Either, or both."

"On-campus would've probably been... Where would you say it was, Luna? The outdoor art studio?" he asked with a grin.

Luna nodded. "Oh, yes. Right before my class, when you were Professor Trelawney's assistant last spring."

"And off-campus?" Ginny asked.

"Her father's office in London," Rolf replied. "He was late for meeting us for lunch; he was out researching another paper for The Pipistrelle and we just felt...frisky."

"When was this?" Dean wanted to know.

Luna grinned. "Over the Christmas hols," she replied with a shrug.

"When did you first have sex?" Harry queried.

"The summer after I turned fourteen," Luna said. "So, it would have been in July of 1995. I just missed him so much..."

"And I missed her," Rolf put in.

"So, I went to go and see his family in Ireland, and it just happened," Luna finished. "Not that I would take it back."

Rolf shook his head, and pressed a kiss to Luna's temple. "Never," he said softly. He thought about it for a moment before he surveyed the crowd. "George, truth or dare."

"Truth," George said.

"Do Angelina and Lee know about your...inclinations towards Fred?"

George shrugged. "I honestly have no idea. I think they both suspect. I mean, we're essentially the same person," he said, turning to Fred. "Have you...?"

"No," Fred said gently. "And I doubt I ever will. Not many people would readily wish to understand what this pain is."

"Constant pain," George said, leaning closer to Fred. He sighed, seeming to be more secure beside Fred, and spoke again. "Neville, truth or dare?"

"Truth," Neville replied.

"Are you seeing anyone?" George asked.

Neville nodded. "Yeah. We've been together since September. I... I would prefer not to have to reveal their identity, however..."

George nodded back at him. "That's your business, Neville."

Neville smiled. "Thank you." He sighed, mulling over a question for a moment before he turned and looked at Seamus. "Seamus, truth or dare?"

"Dare," Seamus said.

"I dare you to snog Lavender!" Neville said, and Harry grinned, unknowing what would happen, given that Seamus had harbored feelings for her since they were fourteen.

Seamus flushed red to his ears and looked at Ron, who shrugged, and then at Lavender, who looked shocked at his reaction. Seamus got to his feet then, crossing beside the fire and towards Lavender, whereupon he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. He kissed her, a little less chastely than Harry thought was appropriate, but let her go a moment later and returned to his spot in the circle. "Right, then," Seamus muttered, his confident Irish lilt now slightly serious and muffled. "Anthony, truth or dare?"

"Truth," Anthony said.

"How long have you known that Zacharias is in love with you?" he asked.

Anthony sighed, shaking his head. "Since we were thirteen," he said softly, and Hermione gently carded her fingers through his hair. "I told him that we were best mates and nothing more, but I think I'll have to remind him a few more times."

Seamus nodded. "Fair enough."

Anthony surveyed the guests for a moment. "Lavender, truth or dare?"

"Truth," she said with a smile.

"How long are you going to continue to be mean to Hermione?" he asked calmly.

Lavender went white. "I... I wasn't..."

"Yes, you were," Harry said, and Anthony shot him a smile. "Clearly, you're threatened by something, so why don't you grow up and say why, or drop it?"

Lavender narrowed her eyes. "What I really want to know is what she's doing here!" she yelled out then, jabbing a finger in Hermione's direction.

"With that attitude, I might ask you the same question," Hermione countered.

Lavender straightened up then, her eyes never leaving Hermione's. "I happen to be his girlfriend!" she said, entitlement rippling through her voice.

"Well, I happen to be his... Friend," Hermione said softly.

"Don't make me laugh," Lavender said. "You haven't spoken in weeks."

"It's rather difficult to, considering that you're acting like a complete succubus and not permitting anyone other than Harry near him," Hermione said levelly.

"I'll not sit here and permit such things said to me!" Lavender cried out.

"Fine," Hermione said, lowering her beer bottle into the sand and got to her feet, Anthony and Harry immediately mimicking her movements. "I'm done anyhow," she said, and took off into the night.

"Mate," Ron said, calling out to Harry, who had gone after Hermione and Anthony.

"No," Harry said firmly. "Until you ditch that," he said, referring to Lavender with a wave of his head, "I'm with Hermione on this one."

As Harry moved to leave the party, he heard Fred, George, Neville, Ginny, and Dean all getting up and leaving. Luna and Rolf left the scene as well; the only person remaining behind seemed to be Seamus, his unrequited love for Lavender knowing no bounds. Harry fell into step with Neville as they walked back to the school; Fred and George had already taken a taxi, and Ginny, Dean, Rolf, and Luna had caught up to Ron and Hermione.

"I know," Harry said quietly.

"What?" Neville asked.

"You don't need to hide it around me, Nev," Harry said gently with a smile.

"Hide what?"

Harry sighed. "Your preferences," he explained.

Neville went white. "How did you...?"

"Because I've got them, too," Harry said gently, knocking Neville's shoulder good-naturedly with his, and Neville breathed a sigh of relief.

"Don't tell anyone, all right? It's not that I'm not all right with it, but I'm not ready for people to know just yet."

Harry nodded. "Hey, it's your call," he said quietly. "I'm not ready for anyone to know just yet either. Hell, I haven't even told Ron..."

"You told me before Ron?" Neville asked. "Why?"

"Because, Nev, you understand it. I don't know how much he will, especially when he knows who I've been wanting, all this time."

Neville nodded. "Same here," he said softly, as they continued down the darkened footpath, all the way back to school.

. . .

Sessions with Amelia continued throughout the month of March; she was pleased that both Harry and Anthony had stood up for Hermione's well-being, and doing what they thought was right that evening of Ron's birthday. She wanted Harry to be careful about his alcohol consumption but, given that he hadn't had very much that evening, and was merely being a boisterous teenager at the time, she'd let it slide. Plus, she knew he was doing so with Remus's permission that night, so there was naught to complain about.

Harry frequented study meetings with Hermione on days leading up to particularly important assignments in chemistry. He was thankful that Anthony seemed to understand his struggles with the subject, and encouraged the study meetings. They would flit through the shelves, attempting to dissuade the wrath of Ms. Pince, the librarian, who had a great-uncle somewhere who had been a knight and, as such, attempted to intimidate students to address her as 'Madam' as opposed to 'Ms.'.

"He is at perfect liberty to see whomever he likes," Hermione said one afternoon, about two and a half weeks after the party. "I really couldn't care less."

Harry sighed. "That might be the case, 'Mione, but the way that Ron's intended treats you is another matter entirely."

Hermione rolled her eyes, stomping into a line of shelves and returning a book onto a particularly high one before snatching out another one. "I hardly see how that matters to Ron, don't you? Considering she's running her hands all over him at any given turn, not really caring who happens to walk by..."

Harry crossed his arms, leaning against the shelves opposite Hermione. They were in the science portion of the library, in the physics session; Harry knew full well how Hermione tended to read ahead when she was anxious or upset about something. "So, I take it you haven't told him what happened in the wake of the party?"

Hermione stiffened as she whirled around to face Harry; she was gripping a copy of Introduction to Electrodynamics by David J. Griffiths, and was trembling all over, so much so that the thick volume nearly slipped from her fingers. "No," she managed, her voice wavering. "But I hardly think that it's any of his business."

Harry gave a slow nod at that. "No, of course it's not. I'm just worried that Parvati or Padma saw or heard something. They're Lavender's best friends, you know, and love to gossip as much as she does. One false move, and Lavender knows, then Ron knows, and, pretty soon, all of Wartsmoth will know, 'Mione."

Hermione swallowed. "I just hope that all of this ends well, you know?"

"Meaning what?"

Hermione hugged the book to her chest. "I... I don't know," she said at last. "I'm used to having an answer for everything. Now, I'm not too sure what tomorrow will bring." She turned and looked out the large windows just opposite them, at the end of the aisle. "Is it wrong that I don't have an answer, Harry?" she whispered.

Harry shook his head. "No, of course not. I'm just shocked that it took so long for you not to know something," he admitted.

She worried her lower lip then, tilting her head back. "And... How are things with him?" she wanted to know, her voice quiet.

Harry swallowed. "Non-existent."

Hermione turned slightly then, brown eyes meeting green. "I can't believe that, Harry. I know there's something there."

Harry sighed. "So did I."

Hermione pushed herself upwards then, and crossed so that she was standing right next to Harry, a worried expression on her face. "Please... Tell me he didn't ruin things."

Harry pulled his lower lip into his mouth, biting down on it as he shook his head. "No, 'Mione, he didn't ruin things."

Hermione shook her head. "Then, what happened?"

"I happened," Harry said simply. "I'm just a freak who wrecks things, remember? Why did I even think that getting the man I want would be any easier? I'm me," he said, his tone dark and gloomy, and Hermione squeezed his shoulder, unaware how to draw him out of this funk as much as she knew her next step in life.

. . .

In the wake of the news that Bill had written to Ron, informing him that Fleur had given birth to a healthy daughter whom they'd named Victoire Jolie Weasley, Bill also informed his youngest brother that, as he and Fleur had been staying with Arthur and Molly at the time, that they would be remaining for a week or so, so as Molly could help Fleur in getting used to motherhood. Ron came to Harry with the letter, along with the invitation to go to Devon for the weekend to meet his niece.

"Sure, I'll go, mate," Harry replied. "Just got to ask Remus."

"Tell Remus he's invited, too," Ron informed him.

Friday arrived and, after classes, Remus, Harry, and Ron went to the train station to catch a train from Edinburgh to Devon. Classes had gotten out earlier than usual—well, for Harry and Ron, at least, and Remus had cut his final lessons short—so as they wouldn't be arriving too late. The train was over seven hours long, and Arthur was fetching them on the other side; they would be arriving there a bit after eight, so there would be time for a late dinner, some socializing, and then it would be time for bed.

Remus left the train compartment once they'd settled in and left the station, to rustle them up a worthy snack and to see if he could get a place with decent reception to call Dora. Harry sat back on the comfortable bench-like seat, and stared out at the barren terrain. Although spring had officially sprung, the branches were bare, the bushes were sparse, and the grass had yet to return to its lush green tint.

"Mate?"

"Hmmm?" Harry answered back. Ever since Ron's party at the beginning of the month, Harry had spent the vast majority of his time with Hermione, or studying like mad for chemistry midterms, which were coming up in a week or so.

"You ever think about having kids? A family?"

Harry sighed; he really didn't want to talk about the romantic aspects of his future, or anything connected to it, not now. Of course, Harry did want children, but he wasn't keen on opening up to Ron just yet. "I think I should get through the rest of Wartsmoth and graduate from university and settle in a career before I even consider that stage in my life, Ron."

Ron pulled a face. "Hermione get to you, did she?"

Harry's eyes flashed to Ron's. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Don't know, mate. It's just that you're spending all your time with her lately, despite the fact that she's got a bloke."

Harry nipped at his lower lip. "Look, Ron, I don't appreciate your double-meaning, here. Just spit out what you want to say."

"All right, I'll spit it out. But don't expect me to be grateful that you're ignoring me and going after Hermione like that."

Harry blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You're spending all your time with her!"

Harry leaned forward so that his elbows were positioned on his thighs. "Well, I'm sorry if you think that. I try to make plans with you, Ron, and have done for weeks, but you're always with Lavender..."

"Oh, so now you're jealous of me and Lav, then?"

Harry threw up his hands. "No, Ron! I'm not jealous of you and Lavender, or for Hermione and Tony either! I'm not jealous of either of your relationships!"

"Then, explain to me what's going on here, mate! I don't understand it. You're either with Hermione or have your nose buried in your chemistry textbook. I'll bet you even brought it with you for the weekend!"

Harry's face flushed. "Drop it, Ron."

"Why would I drop it?!" he demanded, launching to his feet, and barreling towards the upper crates within the compartment, where Harry had put his duffel, beside Remus's.

Harry moved out of the way and attempted to yank Ron backwards. "Just let it alone, Ron!" he warned him. "Please!"

Ron managed to get ahold of Harry's duffel with one hand, while the other batted Harry backwards. He unzipped the closest flap, and saw the chemistry textbook buried in Harry's rush packing job, amongst the two spare pairs of jeans, some more formal trousers, button-downs, T-shirts which could double for sleep, and several pairs of socks and boxers. He made a grab for the book and tore it open, despite Harry's verbal and physical protests, and thumbed through the pages, going into the back where a series of blank ones were, and scoured them, his eyes flashing with something unfamiliar to Harry.

"'I don't think I can take one more day of this. Someone's bound to find this book, and discover my identity, as well as my hidden proclivities. I just can't keep a handle on it anymore, and all I want to do is be true to myself. Why can't we live in a world that wholly accepts people for the way they are? Why do they have to be cast in one mold and remain that way, despite centuries of innovation and growth? All I want is to be myself, to live out my desires and fantasies, not just professionally but on a personal level as well. If someone could actually see me for me, I would be forever grateful—'"

Harry yanked the book from Ron's hands and slammed it shut, cradling it to his chest for a moment before he shoved it back into his duffel. He zipped up the zipper with trembling hands and couldn't bear to face Ron, for his shoulders were trembling. The trembling shifted not just from his shoulders, but to his feet as well, and Harry was fairly sure he'd go tumbling everywhere if he even made a move to step in any direction.

"Is... Is this why it didn't work out with Ginny?" Ron asked him softly as Harry gripped the crate from opposite him.

Harry swallowed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Harry, it's all right, you know," Ron told him, his voice gentle. "Did you honestly think I'd have a problem with it? Two of my brothers are gay, and George is bisexual, despite his long-standing relationship with Angelina; I think he has to be a little bit gay, based on the feelings he has for George..."

Harry sighed, cutting Ron off. "Look, I... I didn't want you to find out, Ron."

"At all?" he demanded, shocked.

Harry shook his head as he finally regained his footing, and turned around. "No. I meant, I didn't want you to find out like this."

Ron rolled back on his heels for a moment. "I guess I can understand that. I've never had to come out, because I always knew I liked girls. I'm sorry if I made it difficult for you. I should've been there for you. I'm sorry I haven't been."

Harry sighed. "People know, Ron."

"Yeah? Who?"

"Hermione, of course," he replied. "And Dean knows, too. Luna and Rolf suspect, but I haven't confirmed or denied it. Neville knows. And Ginny, given that I came out to her first. And then Remus and Dora know, obviously...and the guy I'm into..."

"Wait! You're into someone?!" Ron asked, his eyes shining with delight. "This is great! This means we can go out on double dates!"

Harry shook his head, lowering himself back into his seat. "That's not going to be possible, Ron, because the guy I like... It's complicated."

"How is it complicated?" Ron wanted to know, sitting across from him again.

"He's not a student," Harry said quietly.

"Does he go to uni?" Ron questioned.

Harry shook his head. "No. More complicated than that."

Ron's eyes widened. "So, we're talking about an older bloke, then? Someone who doesn't even go to school anymore?"

Harry nodded. "Exactly."

"How... How much older is older?"

Harry swallowed. "Thirties," he replied, not wanting to get into specifics.

"His thirties?! Blimey, mate. What have you been doing?"

Harry shook his head. "Nothing. I've been doing nothing, because he's clearly not interested, and keeps pushing me away."

Ron shook his head and sighed. "Anyone would be lucky to have you interested in you, mate. I just wish stuff was easier for you."

Harry flashed him a small smile. "Thanks, Ron."

"So... You and Hermione...?"

"She's just helping me study, Ron," Harry told her. "We're best friends, just like you and me. I love her," he went on, and Ron looked stricken, but Harry continued, "as a sister. I see her as a sister, and I reckon she feels the same way about me."

Ron nodded. "All right. Sorry."

Harry nodded back at him. "No problem." He hesitated for a moment. "But, what about Lavender?" he asked him.

Ron sighed. "I'm glad to be well-shot of her this weekend," he admitted.

Harry leaned back against his seat. "Well, maybe that's something to think about. She's been snogging you for the past five months, almost six. Maybe you need to really think about what you want here, mate."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he admitted, and turned to look out at the landscape until Remus returned with some sandwiches for them, and an update on Dora, who was visiting her parents that weekend, and had offered to drive them back to the train station on Sunday, and return on the train with them, which was, of course, accepted.

. . .

Monday arrived, with Ron and Hermione burying the hatchet slightly so as he could show them the Polaroid's he'd brought back of baby Victoire. Victoire had a dusting of blonde hair on her head, had her mother's skin, but her father's nose and mouth. Her eyes were a shining deep blue, which Fleur continually said would match the River Seine, and she was positively beaming as both Harry and Ron held her in turn. Ron was beaming when he returned to Wartsmoth with Harry and Remus late Sunday night, and informed their circle of friends that he'd been selected as godfather over the weekend, and would be going to France during a weekend in April to stand with the child during the baptismal, beside Gabrielle, Fleur's little sister.

After dinner that evening, Harry was walking the hallways with Ron, Hermione, Dean, Ginny, Luna, and Rolf. It had been a pleasant day, and he'd gotten back another Very Good essay from Severus earlier that afternoon. Severus had mentioned time and time again within the margins of his essays, homework assignments, and quizzes that his reading and understanding of the material had broadened that he would easily move on from chemistry to physics the following school year. He didn't remember ever being so giddy over something before; in the wake of his meditation lessons going south with Severus, something about the man had called to him, and although he couldn't put his finger on what it was at the time, he was slowly beginning to realize just how deep his feelings for his professor truly went.

Just as the septet wandered into the Warthog common area, they all mutually stopped in their tracks at the sight there was to see. Lying on the couch before the stone fireplace, were Neville and Draco, with Neville sprawled on top of the Moth, and Draco pulling Neville so that their bodies and lips were smashed together upon the red velvet. There was a moment of silence until the door unexpectedly slammed behind them all, and Neville and Draco broke apart, launching to their feet, each young man flushed all over their faces.

"I..." Neville began.

"We..." Draco tried.

"This is who you've been seeing since September?!" Harry demanded. "The guy who's made not only my life, but Hermione's, and Ron's, and Luna's, and Ginny's, and Rolf's, and Dean's life a complete and total living hell?!"

"Harry..." Neville began.

"No, I'm talking!" Harry shouted. "He's bullied me for having dead parents; bullied Hermione for not being as filthy rich as he is; bullied Ron for being poor; bullied Luna for being herself; bullied Ginny because she wouldn't snog him because she was dating Michael Corner despite the fact that he was with Pansy at the time; bullied Rolf for being Irish; and Dean for being black! I mean... How can you, Neville?" Harry whispered. "Not to mention it was his aunt—yes, his aunt—who was responsible for...for..."

"Yes, Harry, my aunt," Draco said softly, more civilly than he'd ever spoken to him. "I am not my aunt, Harry, just as you claim not to be your father. And as for my prior indiscretions against all of you—"

"Bullying!" Harry snapped, interrupting him, ignoring Neville's look.

"Yes, that. As for my prior bullying tendencies against you, I offer you all my sincerest apologies. You see, my father he... He is not a nice man, if you recall correctly. He... He was manipulative and cruel, and if I didn't do things for him, or act the way he wanted me to act, he would hurt me more than he ever did."

"What are you telling us here, Draco?" Hermione asked gently.

Neville took Draco's hand, and when the latter squeezed it, Neville looked up at his friends, and answered for him. "Lucius Malfoy would abuse Draco sexually," he said softly. "That's why he went to prison last year. He got a lengthy jail sentence, all because Draco had the courage to speak up and let everyone know just how much of a monster he was."

"I'm no longer going to be the man he wants me to be," Draco told them all firmly. "And I want you to know that, not only am I sorry for my previous negative treatment of you, but I am madly in love with Neville, and I will never hurt him."

Neville squeezed his hand and kissed Draco's temple. "Not how I envisioned it happening, but, nevertheless, I'm glad it's out in the open at last."

Draco turned and stared at Neville, shocked. "What...? You mean...?"

"Yes," Neville replied. "I love you, Draco Malfoy."

Harry felt a lump rising in his throat then as he backed out of the room, and despite the various players of the situation calling out after him, he ignored the shouts. He ran from that floor all the way to the bottom of the castle, not even noticing the drop in temperature around him as he let himself into the chemistry classroom. He kicked the door shut behind him and looked around and, a moment later, the inner door opened, and Severus walked through it, his black eyes looking shocked to see Harry there so late.

"Harry, is everything—?"

Harry advanced upon Severus then, fear and terror and arousal in every step he took, as he threw his arms around his professor and kissed him deeply.

"Harry... Harry, maybe we..."

"Please," Harry whispered, pressing his forehead against Severus's. "I won't tell anyone about this, I promise. Nobody has to know."

Severus slowly permitted his hand around Harry, shaking as the inner workings of his mind wanted to give in to his baser desires and instincts. "Harry, I want you to understand that I don't take any physical contact lightly..."

Harry swallowed. "You... You know the way I was hurt, correct?"

Severus nodded at him. "Yes."

Harry dragged his tongue over his lower lip in contemplation. "And... And you were hurt in a similar way, weren't you?"

Severus stiffened around him, but, nevertheless, answered the question. "I was."

"Then you should know," Harry said, locking his eyes onto Severus's, "that I would never seek to hurt you in the way that you've been hurt in the past. I care about you, Severus, more than anything in my life. And I'll never hurt you. I know it's asking for a lot, but I really, really need you to trust me on this. I know it's a lot to ask for, but I think if you could..."

Severus found he couldn't stop himself any longer, and slammed his lips onto Harry's, before parting them with his tongue, and Harry let out a soft moan at Severus's movements. Severus pulled Harry closer, deeper into his arms, finding that he loved seizing control of the situation, and it made him unbelievably hard to do so. Gently, he pushed Harry backwards and slammed him up against one of the classroom bookshelves, pushing his body against Harry's, and rubbing up and down like a dog in heat.

"Yes," Harry whispered between kisses, wrapping his legs around Severus's torso, which gave him leverage to pull him closer, lengthwise against him. "I know we can't do more," he whispered as Severus lowered his lips from his, and placed them at his neck, which he bit and suckled gently, "but just know this..."

"Anything, Harry, anything," Severus whispered to him.

"Know how much I want this, want you," Harry whispered, sticking his tongue out to taste the shell of Severus's ear. "I don't think this feeling will ever stop. I've wanted you since I was fifteen years old, and I don't think I'll ever...oh, fuck," he whimpered as Severus smashed their erections together, "want anyone else..."

"Don't say things you can't possibly..."

"I do mean it!" Harry declared, wrapping his arms around Severus's neck and guiding his lips back to his. "Forever," he told him.

A slight gasp escaped Severus's throat then, but he pushed forward, grinding himself against Harry, getting as close as he could, while Harry moaned and wailed in his ear. It didn't take long for their orgasms to meet, and they fell together, shouting each other's names and becoming quite sticky in the process. Although it was difficult for him to do so, Severus held on tightly to Harry, and tried to regulate his heartbeat in the process.

"I... I can make no promises..."

Harry sighed, but forced himself to nod. "I know," he said softly. "Just... Just don't forget about me, all right?"

Severus smiled then, as he leaned in and kissed Harry softly. "Never," he whispered.

. . .

Harry had two therapy sessions after his latest encounter with Severus, and gave Amelia some vague details about it. While Amelia was concerned about the age difference between Harry and "Stephen Silver", his fake name for Severus, she took comfort in the fact that Harry didn't seem to be coerced by the situations at all. In fact, Amelia wrote that Harry seemed to be in the most right frame of mind she'd ever seen him. He was happy; he was doing better at Wartsmoth; he was getting along excellently with his peers, and he had even managed to forge a tentative friendship with Draco Malfoy.

A day after his second session after his latest moment with Severus, Harry returned from a study session in the library. He was alone that day, as Anthony had taken Hermione to Dean Village, due to it being a half-day of classes, and he needed to put the final touches on his notes for the quiz on their new chemistry topic—limiting reactant and theoretical yield—to be taken on Monday. It was when Harry pushed open the door of the Warthog common area that the cacophony of sound suddenly burst, and he saw Ron and Lavender having a row in the middle of the room.

"I don't understand why I can't go with you!" Lavender screamed.

Ron rolled his eyes. "And I've told you, it'll be family stuff all weekend! You'd be bored!"

"Bored? Bored?!" Lavender screeched. "You're going to Paris, Ronald Weasley, the most romantic place in the world, and you don't want to take your girlfriend with you?!" she demanded of him.

Ron dragged a hand down his face. "Like I said, Lav, I'll be getting off the plane and going to Bill and Fleur's place. From there, I'll likely take a nap until the rehearsal dinner. Then, we have the dinner, and go home and go back to bed. Then, we go to Saint Pierre for the baptism, then we have the after-baptismal lunch, and then I get on a plane and come back."

Lavender rolled her eyes and tossed her golden-brown hair. "I'll bet if Granger wanted to go with you, you'd leap at the chance."

Ron's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"You secretly want Anthony and Granger to break up, so that you can swoop in and be the hero and comfort her! Well, it won't happen," Lavender said smugly.

Ron's hands tightened into fists. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"The hell I don't!" Lavender shot back. "I know you want her! I know you hate that you're with me and she's with Anthony!"

Ron gritted his teeth and tried to keep his temper. "Lavender, that's enough..."

"Well, try this on for size!" Lavender shot at him, her eyes blazing with rage. "Granger's such a goddamn slut that, on the night of your birthday, she opened those knobby legs of hers and fucked Anthony!"

"Lavender!" Harry shouted then, charging into the room and blocking Ron's attempt at slapping her, and turned his eyes onto his best friend. "Let it go, Ron. Walk away. Walk away right now, before you do something you regret."

Ron tensed then, narrowing his eyes at Lavender. "We're over," he said scathingly to her, and Lavender looked shocked.

"Won-Won!" she shouted, all animosity gone. "No!"

"Let's go, Ron," Harry said, pushing his friend towards the door and leading him out of there. He didn't stop pushing Ron until they were on the grounds of the school, the mid-spring sunshine and cool breeze seeming to comfort him. "Sorry you had to find out that way."

Ron sighed. "So, it is true, then?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, it's true."

Ron dragged a hand through his red hair. "It would be kind of hypocritical for me to be mad at her, then, I guess..."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Oh. So, you and Lavender...?"

"God, no," Ron said, looking as if he would be sick and vehemently shook his head. "No, I... I tried, but I couldn't..."

Harry sighed, and they sat down on a hill overlooking the Firth of Forth. "I know what you mean," he said quietly.

Ron peered at him. "You and Ginny, you didn't...?"

Harry swallowed. "Let's just say I couldn't rise for the occasion during our snogging sessions in the wake of Sirius's murder."

Ron considered that for a moment. "Maybe because you were grieving..."

Harry shook his head. "No, Ron, it didn't have anything to do with the grieving process. It had everything to do with the fact that I'm gay."

Ron nodded. "Point taken." He stared off at the body of water in front of them, easily becoming lost in its ripples beyond. "Wish it was easier for us, mate."

"Yeah?" Harry asked him, following his line of sight to where it fell on the water. "How do you mean?"

Ron sighed. "Well, it'd be easier if I could have the girl I wanted, and you could be with the bloke you wanted."

Harry smirked, leaning back so that he was bracing himself on the palms of his hands. "Least you had the sense to fall for someone who's our age."

Ron chuckled at that. "Yeah, there's that. And she's a girl. She's taken, right now, at least, but if she wasn't..."

"Society wouldn't look at you funny," Harry muttered. "I have two strikes against me, because of the age difference, and my proclivities towards the same sex."

Ron leaned back, so that he was lying down on the grass besides Harry. "Last time we talked about it, you told me he was in his thirties."

Harry nodded, mimicking Ron's motions so that he was lying down as well. "Yeah, that's right," he told him.

Ron mulled that over for a moment. "I also remember how much you talked about Cho, after you two first snogged when we were fifteen."

Harry shuddered. "Snogging shouldn't be wet," he said. "She was still sad about Cedric, and all she wanted to do was discuss him every time we were together. I'm not much for discussing rather traumatizing events in my life, thank you very much..."

"Thank god the exchange program was up after last year," Ron put in. "What school did she go to back in China, again?"

"Keystone Academy," Harry replied.

"Right," Ron said, nodding. "But you seemed to like her, physically at least. You said how much you loved her eyes and her hair..."

Harry turned over slightly then, and eyed Ron. "What are you getting at here?"

"Well, I was just wondering if you liked blokes with black hair and matching eyes."

Harry sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "Yeah," he muttered.

Ron swallowed then, and turned to look at Harry. "Doesn't take much process of elimination to figure out who you're into, mate."

Harry pushed himself upwards then, dragging his knees to his chest. "So what?"

"So what?" Ron demanded, following Harry's movements. "Harry, not only..." He cut himself off then, looking around, and, finding that they were alone, resumed speaking. "Not only is he our professor, and almost forty, but he's..."

"What, Ron?" Harry demanded, turning over and looking at him. "Spit it out."

"Well, he was a right git to you for our first five years here," Ron said with a shrug. "I just don't want you getting hurt, mate."

Harry sighed, lowering his eyes. "Little late for that, Ron."

"What did he do?" Ron demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"Nothing. That's just it," Harry whispered, his voice trembling. "He told me, last time we were together, that he couldn't make me any promises..."

"Well, mate, maybe he's saying that for you, and not for him..."

Harry blinked, and turned back to Ron. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, he's not a complete idiot," Ron explained. "He probably thinks you just want experience, or it's a dare or something. Not to mention the fact that he really could lose his job if you're found out..."

"Nobody's going to find out. Are they, Ron?"

Ron shook his head. "Not from me, they won't."

Harry nodded at him. "Good," he said, and turned to look out at the forth again.

"But I'm just saying," Ron went on, "you're a lot younger than he is. Maybe he wants you just as much as you want him, but he wants to give you an out, just in case."

"Just in case what, Ron?"

"Just in case you're funning with him," Ron replied. "I'm not saying you are, but maybe he thinks that's what's going on here..."

Harry shook his head. "Not gonna happen."

"Yeah?" Ron asked. "How do you mean?"

Harry sighed, putting his head into his hands. "Because, I think I'm at the point where I can say I'm half in love with him already, Ron," he whispered.