"Seven Years Too Late" (Draco, Harry)
Author:Anonymous
Prompt/Prompt Author: The wizarding world isn't very accepting of homosexuality, but when Draco comes out of the closet, he finds support from an unexpected source. / igrockspock
Title: Seven Years Too Late
Characters: Draco, Harry
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Offensive/Homophobic language
Word Count:2150
Summary:Draco suffers abuse after he comes out as gay, but a very unexpected wizard stands up for him. Naturally, Draco isn’t happy about this.
Author's Notes: I tried not to include extreme angst in this, as requested, but I think the topic is naturally angsty. I have balanced it out with a bit of humour though.
Draco Malfoy was gay, and he hated it.
No, that wasn’t true.
Draco hated that he had come out of the closet.
After the war had ended, and Draco had returned to Hogwarts to finish his eighth year, he, like many people, had decided to take it as a fresh start; a time where he could just be Draco Malfoy, and not the teenage Death Eater.
It had taken a while for Draco to come out, naturally. Excuses kept being made, and school work was deemed more important, but eventually, after Pansy Parkinson kept trying to shove her hands down his trousers, he finally did the deed by telling Pansy he was homosexual.
Pansy’s first thought was that it was a lie simply to break up with her, but once she realised it was no joke, and Draco was very much gay and not attracted to her, she freaked out. Draco’s face still stung from where her hand had connected with his cheek.
Draco had been respected in Slytherin, feared by the younger students, in fact, but now he was a joke.
Everywhere he went it was the same.
“Faggot.” “Priss.” “Queer.” “Freak.” “Dirty homo.”
And that was just the Slytherins. He had come out to Pansy the day previously, and within hours Slytherin house had turned on him. He couldn’t be bothered dealing with the rest of the Houses just yet.
It wasn’t even like he could write to his father and complain, because Lucius was still awaiting trial, and was forbidden any outside contact.
Why had he thought coming out would be such a good idea? The rest of Slytherin house were clearly morons, but he was the one who had to put up with their idiocy for the rest of the year. It would be like living with the Weasleys; he was pretty sure Slytherin housed as many students as Ron Weasley had siblings.
Draco had to emerge on Monday for lessons, and it was obvious that the news about him had spread. Damn boarding schools.
Boys gave him a wide berth as he walked down the corridor, as if he’d ever look twice at their ugly faces anyway, and it was seven seats away from him in the Great Hall that the nearest boy sat to him.
Instead he was stuck with a group of fourth year girls, asking Draco if he wanted to go shopping with them, and if he’d help them with their hair.
He was fucking gay, not a girl. If he didn’t fancy girls, why would he want to be one?
After snapping at the younger students, he stormed from the Great Hall, entirely fed up with how everyone was acting. Draco just couldn’t understand why people had reacted so negatively.
He would understand it coming from his parents; he was an only child, and a son at that, and he would be unable to produce a Malfoy heir, but he had cousins who could do that in place of him.
His inability to produce an heir was nobody else’s business though, and just what was wrong with being gay? Granted, he found Granger and Weasley revolting, and made sure to tell them that on a regular basis, but most other students left them alone, so why not Draco too?
Theodore Nott had been Draco’s Potion’s partner, and Slughorn had loudly told Nott at the beginning of class that he wasn’t allowed to change seats.
Nott, who had always been friendly with Draco up until now, edged his seat as far away from Draco as possible, and he shrieked when he accidentally brushed his hand against Draco’s.
Nott looked like a rat; he was hardly Draco’s choice to feel up.
The last straw came when Draco turned up to the Quidditch match that weekend, the first game of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin.
Draco had been looking forward to getting back on his broom, and maybe finally beating Potter.
Now the Dark Lord was dead, perhaps that meant that Potter’s luck would have finally ran out, because that was clearly the reason Potter always won; Draco was a far superior flier than Potter.
The changing room was empty when Draco got there, and when he arrived on the pitch, he found that there were already seven players in Quidditch uniform, a third year girl who Draco didn’t deem worthy enough to know the name of having taken his place.
“What’s she doing here?” Draco hissed, pointing at the small girl standing smugly amongst the team.
“We don’t want a filthy fag like you on our team,” the captain, Thaddeus Fredingham, spat at him.
“You’ll be too busy looking at our arses instead of catching the Snitch,” another piped up.
Draco opened his mouth to respond with a scathing insult, but somebody beat him to it.
“Malfoy may never have caught the snitch before,” Potter said with a light smirk, flanked by his cronies. “But he’s a damn better flier than the rest of you; are you really giving up the slim chance you have of winning because you think your arses are just that attractive?”
“Piss off, Potter,” Fredingham growled. “You’re just scared that Lucille here may just beat you for once.”
“I wouldn’t count on that, I mean, Lucille is straight as far as I know, so surely she’ll be too busy looking at your arses to watch the Snitch properly, too.”
The other Gryffindor players laughed, and Draco wasn’t quite sure what was going on.
Was Potter defending him? Why would Potter defend him, when Draco’s homosexuality was giving the rest of the school such an easy way to taunt Draco?
“Still trying to play the hero, Potter?” Draco cut in, turning to Potter with stormy eyes. “Didn’t realise you’d be so bored after defeating the Dark Lord. I don’t want to play Quidditch with this team anyway; they can’t play for shit.”
And so Draco stormed off back to the Slytherin dorms without another word.
He threw his broom down angrily on his bed, kicking at the bedposts.
Why was everyone just so infuriating? And who did Potter think he was, coming down and defending Draco as if he cared? It was probably just another way to mock him.
Well if Potter thought he could get away with it, he was wrong. He wasn’t going to let Potter of all people humiliate him again.
So the next day, Draco set out to find Potter and demand why he thought he could mock Draco like that in front of everyone. It wasn’t like Draco needed anyone’s help, especially not Potter’s.
Potter was surprisingly hard to find, and Sunday proved to be a failure.
They had Potions together on Monday though, so Draco’s plan was to leave Potions quickly so he could catch Potter on the way out and try to get him on his own.
Like the annoying prat he was though, Potter found Draco first.
“Hey, Malfoy!” Potter shouted, running towards the Slytherin student.
Draco turned, bewildered, as Potter waved the other Gryffindors past him.
Potter waited until everyone had gone, and then he turned to Draco with a half-smile.
“So Malfoy,” Potter said casually, leaning against the dungeon wall. “The new Slytherin Seeker sucks. I reckon that dim-witted captain of yours would take you back now.”
“Maybe I don’t want to play with them,” Draco growled furiously. “And what does it matter to you anyway? Think it’s funny, do you? Pretending to help the faggot only to be like the rest of them in the end?”
“Clearly you don’t know me very well,” Potter replied passively. “Hermione told me I have a ‘saving-people-thing’, and I guess it’s true. I just don’t think it’s right for your friends to turn against you just because they know you’re gay now.”
“Like I said, why does it matter to you?” Draco repeated his question from before. “We hate each other.”
“I know,” Potter said with a crooked grin. “But that’s because you’re an arrogant, stuck-up git. You’d be the same no matter who you fancied. Besides, the Wizarding world doesn’t seem to like people based on things they can’t control; werewolves for one-“
“Are you comparing me to an animal, Potter?” Draco cut in, and Potter glared at him.
“No,” he said firmly. “And werewolves are not animals. Yes, they change into a wolf once a month, but they can’t do anything about that, and the rest of the time they’re normal humans. Just like you’re a normal human who happens to like blokes.”
Draco didn’t know how to respond. He had never heard Potter speak such sense, but of course, he wasn’t going to tell Potter that.
A gasp startled them both, and Draco turned just in time to see a fifth year staring at them in shock before he broke into a run.
“Right,” Draco said after a moment, running his finger under his collar. “Well I need to get going.”
Dinner would be fun tonight; he was sure the fifth year would tell somebody what he saw, who would then tell someone else, and so on and so on until the story would be that Draco had been snogging Potter against the wall.
Potter nodded, an amused smile on his face as he stared at the spot the younger student had been.
“Yes, see you tonight,” Potter grinned.
Draco didn’t quite know what Potter meant, until it came to dinner time.
As he walked through the doors to the Great Hall, all eyes seemed to be on him, hushed whispers echoing around the room.
The same thing happened when Potter strolled into the hall with Ginny Weasley, and both of them looked like they were having a hard time keeping their laughter in.
“Malfoy,” a boy hissed from a few seats away. “If you’re gonna be gay, surely you have better taste than Potter?”
“I have respect for Draco, actually,” a girl added. “Snogging the Boy-Who-Lived to humiliate him. I didn’t know he was a ponce as well.”
Oh, yes, there were the rumours.
Like Draco would find Potter attractive; the boy was a bag of bones and his hair needed a good brush.
Rising from the table, Draco hurried over to the Gryffindors. They could make fun of him for being gay all they wanted, but accusing him of snogging irritating Gryffindors was another story altogether. Still, Potter was a better choice than Weasley, or Merlin-forbid Longbottom, but it was still better to be avoided. And maybe now Potter would reveal himself to be just as narrow minded as the rest of the school.
“Oh look,” the female Weasley called jokingly when Draco got nearer to them. “It’s my boyfriend’s boyfriend.”
Weasley and Potter broke into laughter at this, but it didn’t seem to be in a mocking way.
“So you heard then?” Draco said dryly, and Potter nodded.
“Third rumour I’ve heard about myself today,” Potter grinned. “Apparently once I’ve had the Voldemort tattoo on my back finished, I’m dropping out of school to go on some secret mission, and I don’t think long-distance relationships work, sorry. Why don’t you have a seat?”
“I don’t want to have a seat,” Draco answered plainly, trying not to smirk at Harry’s joke. “Weasley over there obviously thinks he can catch gay.”
Weasley and Granger had moved further down the table at sight of Draco, and Draco would have thought Granger at least might be more tolerant.
“No, they’re just still pissed off at you after your family locked us in the cellar and had your Aunt torture Hermione,” Potter said, a bite of anger in his tone.
Yes, Draco supposed that was a good reason to hold a grudge.
“Malfoy, the eighth year Gryffindors plus Ginny and Luna are playing some card games tonight; do you want to come? If I can’t beat you at Quidditch anymore, I’d like to beat you at something,” Potter smiled, and Draco rolled his eyes.
Draco was a damn good card player.
“I doubt you could beat me,” he drawled. “Don’t you think people are going to talk even more?”
“So?” Potter shrugged. “I mean, I know a gay guy can’t hang out with a male without fancying them, and a straight guy can’t hang out with a gay guy without being gay himself, but I’m sure we’ll both manage despite our conflicted feelings.”
Who knew Potter was so sarcastic? The worst part was, Potter was so right; people’s beliefs were so messed up, and it took Harry Potter of all people to call them out.
“So will you come?” Potter pushed on, and Draco nodded. “Good, because your Slytherin friends are dickheads. You need to stop making friends with the wrong sorts; I can help you there.”
He offered his hand out, his words and action a mirror of Draco’s seven years ago.
And seven years too late, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy shook hands.
X
Prompt/Prompt Author: The wizarding world isn't very accepting of homosexuality, but when Draco comes out of the closet, he finds support from an unexpected source. / igrockspock
Title: Seven Years Too Late
Characters: Draco, Harry
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Offensive/Homophobic language
Word Count:2150
Summary:Draco suffers abuse after he comes out as gay, but a very unexpected wizard stands up for him. Naturally, Draco isn’t happy about this.
Author's Notes: I tried not to include extreme angst in this, as requested, but I think the topic is naturally angsty. I have balanced it out with a bit of humour though.
Draco Malfoy was gay, and he hated it.
No, that wasn’t true.
Draco hated that he had come out of the closet.
After the war had ended, and Draco had returned to Hogwarts to finish his eighth year, he, like many people, had decided to take it as a fresh start; a time where he could just be Draco Malfoy, and not the teenage Death Eater.
It had taken a while for Draco to come out, naturally. Excuses kept being made, and school work was deemed more important, but eventually, after Pansy Parkinson kept trying to shove her hands down his trousers, he finally did the deed by telling Pansy he was homosexual.
Pansy’s first thought was that it was a lie simply to break up with her, but once she realised it was no joke, and Draco was very much gay and not attracted to her, she freaked out. Draco’s face still stung from where her hand had connected with his cheek.
Draco had been respected in Slytherin, feared by the younger students, in fact, but now he was a joke.
Everywhere he went it was the same.
“Faggot.” “Priss.” “Queer.” “Freak.” “Dirty homo.”
And that was just the Slytherins. He had come out to Pansy the day previously, and within hours Slytherin house had turned on him. He couldn’t be bothered dealing with the rest of the Houses just yet.
It wasn’t even like he could write to his father and complain, because Lucius was still awaiting trial, and was forbidden any outside contact.
Why had he thought coming out would be such a good idea? The rest of Slytherin house were clearly morons, but he was the one who had to put up with their idiocy for the rest of the year. It would be like living with the Weasleys; he was pretty sure Slytherin housed as many students as Ron Weasley had siblings.
Draco had to emerge on Monday for lessons, and it was obvious that the news about him had spread. Damn boarding schools.
Boys gave him a wide berth as he walked down the corridor, as if he’d ever look twice at their ugly faces anyway, and it was seven seats away from him in the Great Hall that the nearest boy sat to him.
Instead he was stuck with a group of fourth year girls, asking Draco if he wanted to go shopping with them, and if he’d help them with their hair.
He was fucking gay, not a girl. If he didn’t fancy girls, why would he want to be one?
After snapping at the younger students, he stormed from the Great Hall, entirely fed up with how everyone was acting. Draco just couldn’t understand why people had reacted so negatively.
He would understand it coming from his parents; he was an only child, and a son at that, and he would be unable to produce a Malfoy heir, but he had cousins who could do that in place of him.
His inability to produce an heir was nobody else’s business though, and just what was wrong with being gay? Granted, he found Granger and Weasley revolting, and made sure to tell them that on a regular basis, but most other students left them alone, so why not Draco too?
Theodore Nott had been Draco’s Potion’s partner, and Slughorn had loudly told Nott at the beginning of class that he wasn’t allowed to change seats.
Nott, who had always been friendly with Draco up until now, edged his seat as far away from Draco as possible, and he shrieked when he accidentally brushed his hand against Draco’s.
Nott looked like a rat; he was hardly Draco’s choice to feel up.
The last straw came when Draco turned up to the Quidditch match that weekend, the first game of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin.
Draco had been looking forward to getting back on his broom, and maybe finally beating Potter.
Now the Dark Lord was dead, perhaps that meant that Potter’s luck would have finally ran out, because that was clearly the reason Potter always won; Draco was a far superior flier than Potter.
The changing room was empty when Draco got there, and when he arrived on the pitch, he found that there were already seven players in Quidditch uniform, a third year girl who Draco didn’t deem worthy enough to know the name of having taken his place.
“What’s she doing here?” Draco hissed, pointing at the small girl standing smugly amongst the team.
“We don’t want a filthy fag like you on our team,” the captain, Thaddeus Fredingham, spat at him.
“You’ll be too busy looking at our arses instead of catching the Snitch,” another piped up.
Draco opened his mouth to respond with a scathing insult, but somebody beat him to it.
“Malfoy may never have caught the snitch before,” Potter said with a light smirk, flanked by his cronies. “But he’s a damn better flier than the rest of you; are you really giving up the slim chance you have of winning because you think your arses are just that attractive?”
“Piss off, Potter,” Fredingham growled. “You’re just scared that Lucille here may just beat you for once.”
“I wouldn’t count on that, I mean, Lucille is straight as far as I know, so surely she’ll be too busy looking at your arses to watch the Snitch properly, too.”
The other Gryffindor players laughed, and Draco wasn’t quite sure what was going on.
Was Potter defending him? Why would Potter defend him, when Draco’s homosexuality was giving the rest of the school such an easy way to taunt Draco?
“Still trying to play the hero, Potter?” Draco cut in, turning to Potter with stormy eyes. “Didn’t realise you’d be so bored after defeating the Dark Lord. I don’t want to play Quidditch with this team anyway; they can’t play for shit.”
And so Draco stormed off back to the Slytherin dorms without another word.
He threw his broom down angrily on his bed, kicking at the bedposts.
Why was everyone just so infuriating? And who did Potter think he was, coming down and defending Draco as if he cared? It was probably just another way to mock him.
Well if Potter thought he could get away with it, he was wrong. He wasn’t going to let Potter of all people humiliate him again.
So the next day, Draco set out to find Potter and demand why he thought he could mock Draco like that in front of everyone. It wasn’t like Draco needed anyone’s help, especially not Potter’s.
Potter was surprisingly hard to find, and Sunday proved to be a failure.
They had Potions together on Monday though, so Draco’s plan was to leave Potions quickly so he could catch Potter on the way out and try to get him on his own.
Like the annoying prat he was though, Potter found Draco first.
“Hey, Malfoy!” Potter shouted, running towards the Slytherin student.
Draco turned, bewildered, as Potter waved the other Gryffindors past him.
Potter waited until everyone had gone, and then he turned to Draco with a half-smile.
“So Malfoy,” Potter said casually, leaning against the dungeon wall. “The new Slytherin Seeker sucks. I reckon that dim-witted captain of yours would take you back now.”
“Maybe I don’t want to play with them,” Draco growled furiously. “And what does it matter to you anyway? Think it’s funny, do you? Pretending to help the faggot only to be like the rest of them in the end?”
“Clearly you don’t know me very well,” Potter replied passively. “Hermione told me I have a ‘saving-people-thing’, and I guess it’s true. I just don’t think it’s right for your friends to turn against you just because they know you’re gay now.”
“Like I said, why does it matter to you?” Draco repeated his question from before. “We hate each other.”
“I know,” Potter said with a crooked grin. “But that’s because you’re an arrogant, stuck-up git. You’d be the same no matter who you fancied. Besides, the Wizarding world doesn’t seem to like people based on things they can’t control; werewolves for one-“
“Are you comparing me to an animal, Potter?” Draco cut in, and Potter glared at him.
“No,” he said firmly. “And werewolves are not animals. Yes, they change into a wolf once a month, but they can’t do anything about that, and the rest of the time they’re normal humans. Just like you’re a normal human who happens to like blokes.”
Draco didn’t know how to respond. He had never heard Potter speak such sense, but of course, he wasn’t going to tell Potter that.
A gasp startled them both, and Draco turned just in time to see a fifth year staring at them in shock before he broke into a run.
“Right,” Draco said after a moment, running his finger under his collar. “Well I need to get going.”
Dinner would be fun tonight; he was sure the fifth year would tell somebody what he saw, who would then tell someone else, and so on and so on until the story would be that Draco had been snogging Potter against the wall.
Potter nodded, an amused smile on his face as he stared at the spot the younger student had been.
“Yes, see you tonight,” Potter grinned.
Draco didn’t quite know what Potter meant, until it came to dinner time.
As he walked through the doors to the Great Hall, all eyes seemed to be on him, hushed whispers echoing around the room.
The same thing happened when Potter strolled into the hall with Ginny Weasley, and both of them looked like they were having a hard time keeping their laughter in.
“Malfoy,” a boy hissed from a few seats away. “If you’re gonna be gay, surely you have better taste than Potter?”
“I have respect for Draco, actually,” a girl added. “Snogging the Boy-Who-Lived to humiliate him. I didn’t know he was a ponce as well.”
Oh, yes, there were the rumours.
Like Draco would find Potter attractive; the boy was a bag of bones and his hair needed a good brush.
Rising from the table, Draco hurried over to the Gryffindors. They could make fun of him for being gay all they wanted, but accusing him of snogging irritating Gryffindors was another story altogether. Still, Potter was a better choice than Weasley, or Merlin-forbid Longbottom, but it was still better to be avoided. And maybe now Potter would reveal himself to be just as narrow minded as the rest of the school.
“Oh look,” the female Weasley called jokingly when Draco got nearer to them. “It’s my boyfriend’s boyfriend.”
Weasley and Potter broke into laughter at this, but it didn’t seem to be in a mocking way.
“So you heard then?” Draco said dryly, and Potter nodded.
“Third rumour I’ve heard about myself today,” Potter grinned. “Apparently once I’ve had the Voldemort tattoo on my back finished, I’m dropping out of school to go on some secret mission, and I don’t think long-distance relationships work, sorry. Why don’t you have a seat?”
“I don’t want to have a seat,” Draco answered plainly, trying not to smirk at Harry’s joke. “Weasley over there obviously thinks he can catch gay.”
Weasley and Granger had moved further down the table at sight of Draco, and Draco would have thought Granger at least might be more tolerant.
“No, they’re just still pissed off at you after your family locked us in the cellar and had your Aunt torture Hermione,” Potter said, a bite of anger in his tone.
Yes, Draco supposed that was a good reason to hold a grudge.
“Malfoy, the eighth year Gryffindors plus Ginny and Luna are playing some card games tonight; do you want to come? If I can’t beat you at Quidditch anymore, I’d like to beat you at something,” Potter smiled, and Draco rolled his eyes.
Draco was a damn good card player.
“I doubt you could beat me,” he drawled. “Don’t you think people are going to talk even more?”
“So?” Potter shrugged. “I mean, I know a gay guy can’t hang out with a male without fancying them, and a straight guy can’t hang out with a gay guy without being gay himself, but I’m sure we’ll both manage despite our conflicted feelings.”
Who knew Potter was so sarcastic? The worst part was, Potter was so right; people’s beliefs were so messed up, and it took Harry Potter of all people to call them out.
“So will you come?” Potter pushed on, and Draco nodded. “Good, because your Slytherin friends are dickheads. You need to stop making friends with the wrong sorts; I can help you there.”
He offered his hand out, his words and action a mirror of Draco’s seven years ago.
And seven years too late, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy shook hands.
X