Chapter One: Disgraceful

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K Rowling owns it all.

A/N: This is the final and edited version, hope you all enjoy. :)

– Missy

"A disgrace to the family, is what he is!" A woman's voice shrieked from the kitchen.

"It's your sister's fault for bringing him into this world, good riddance to her, and her messed up husband. Freaks," Harry heard his Uncle Vernon say.

Harry crept out from his cupboard under the stairs, and pressed his ear against the keyhole. He listened to his Aunt and Uncle ramble on about how terrible his parents had been for about five minutes before the room fell silent. His parents must have been awful people for his Aunt and Uncle to hate them so much. Harry was almost mad at his parents for having him, too. Wrapped up in his thoughts, Harry didn't hear the doorknob twisting behind him as his Uncle Vernon opened the door swiftly.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT OF BED!?" He screamed at Harry.

"Cunning little git," his Aunt added.

Harry cringed. He knew what was coming. Uncle Vernon picked up Harry by the shirt, as if he were a rat that had invaded their pantry.

"What do you have to say for yourself, boy?" Uncle Vernon asked with a hateful undertone to his voice.

Vernon pinched his tear-streaked face.

"T-t-that hurts! Please stop!" Harry cried.

"Does it?" His Aunt mocked, smacking him on the face and tearing his cheek with her well bedazzled ring.

Uncle Vernon threw him aside, like a dead mouse he had just taken out of a mouse trap. Harry began to sob, which only made his aunt and uncle angrier.

"Go to your cupboard, and don't come out until tomorrow morning!" His uncle commanded.

Harry knew that they would probably forget to feed him, too.

"Stupid boy. He's a looney, telling lies like being able to communicate with snakes. He needs the looney beaten out of him." Uncle Vernon announced as he took off his belt to whip five-year-old Harry with it.

Harry woke up in a heavy sweat, he hated nightmares. Especially nightmares recapping his childhood.

He ran his fingers through his hair and was disgusted by the amount of sweat in his black locks.

He took off his shirt because it was so drenched with sweat. Harry turned on his side in an attempt to get comfortable again, but to no avail. Harry had his own suite in Hogwarts. Now that the war was over, he was a celebrity. When Professor McGonagall had asked Harry and all the other Seventh years if they wanted to be students in Hogwarts one final year, they all gladly accepted the offer. Their Seventh year was interrupted by the war and Voldemort, so Eighth year was a chance to make new memories for their last year at Hogwarts. Harry had been offered his own private suite, since he killed Voldemort and all. However, Harry didn't like the attention, and he also didn't like that his suite was by the teacher's offices. He could often hear his teachers having late night snogging sessions, and he would prefer not to think about any of his professors snogging.

Shuddering at that horrid thought, Harry went back to sleep.

The next day, Harry didn't bother with showering. He looked like shite, thanks to lack of sleep.

He made his way to the the Great Hall, and scanned the Gryffindor table for his friends.

It wasn't hard to find them, all he had to do was look for a bunch of redheads and frizzy hair.

"Morning," Harry grunted as he took a seat.

"What happened to you, mate? You look like shite." Ron bluntly asked.

"I know...just haven't slept well for the past few nights," Harry replied.

"Have you been having nightmares again, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Sort of. I mean, yeah, but not about Voldemort or the war. I'd rather not talk about it," Harry said with a mouth full of fruit.

Harry glanced over to the Slytherin table. He saw Draco, Pansy, and Blaise all chattering away. Draco really did look attractive without gel in his hair.

Wait, what did he just think? Draco? Attractive? Harry laughed and stabbed himself in the hand with a fork.

"Harry!" Hermione squeaked. "Are you sure you're okay?"Blood began seeping out from the holes the fork had made in Harry's hand.

"Harry what's wrong with you?" Hermione scolded as she cast a quick Episkey to heal his hand.

"Huh? Oh...um. Sorry." was all Harry said before rushing off to the bathroom.

"That was weird. Should we follow him?" Ron asked.

"No. Let him be, we'll talk to him later." Hermione replied.

Harry ran into the bathroom. What was wrong with him? Ha. He didn't even like blokes. One thing was for sure, he certainly didn't like Malfoy.. In fact, he detested him. Harry looked in the mirror, and frowned at what he saw. He had allowed his hair to grow to about chin length. He couldn't help it, it grew so fast. Harry licked his lips, and the taste of blood entered his mouth. Harry had gotten used to the taste of blood, so he didn't mind. Malfoy and his gang all clambered into the boys' bathroom at once.'Oh joy', Harry thought sarcastically. Harry tried to make a hasty exit, but Goyle blocked his path.

"Going somewhere, Potter?" Malfoy mocked.

Harry stayed silent.

"What's this?" Malfoy asked, pointing a finger at Harry's bloody lip.

"Been snogging Longbottom a bit too roughly lately?" Malfoy said, with an evil smirk on his face.

Harry glowered.

"I'm not...I don't like blokes." Harry uttered.

Harry thought he saw a worried expression cross Malfoy's face, but he was sure it was just him being a slimy git, as usual.

Crabbe grabbed Harry by the shirt, and slammed him against the wall, knocking Harry's glasses off.

Draco always thought Harry's eyes looked better without his glasses. Which is why he smiled a bit when they fell off of Harry's face. What was he doing? It hurt his heart to watch his 'gang' beat on Harry, but it also gave him satisfaction. Because when Draco Malfoy sees something he wants, but can't have it, he destroys it. Potter had been especially weak ever since the war ended. He was quiet, and to everyone's surprise, quit the Quidditch team. But he never cried, and barely showed any emotion at all.

Draco never truly got to know Potter until during the war. Draco had spied for the Ministry of Magic as a death eater, risking his life, and he knew that Harry respected that. Despite how much Potter respected him, he knew Potter would never love him. He sneered at the thought, and hexed Harry.

"Faggot," Draco spat at Harry, now slumped against the wall, staring up at Draco with a helpless look on his face.

Harry sat there for awhile, going over the reasons why Malfoy could hate him so much. At eighteen years old, he would have thought that they had both matured past 'beatings in the bathroom' but apparently not.

I don't blame him for hating me. If I were Malfoy, I would hate me too. Harry thought, whilst pulling himself off of the ground. He cringed and hissed. There was a searing pain in one of his ribs, and he was sure that it was broken.- No big deal really. So he hobbled down to the infirmary to see Madame Pomfrey.

"Harry, how do you manage to hurt yourself so often? You ought to be more careful!" Madame Pomfrey scolded. "Nevertheless, it's nothing a few flicks of the wand can't fix. Mhm...hmm, okay. You should be fine now, dear. Please be careful,"

"Thanks Madame Pomfrey, I'll try to be more careful," Harry assured her, sending her a warm smile.

Harry scrambled into his suite to gather his books for potions class. He wanted to have a quick chat with Sirius before class, if he could.

When the war ended, Harry made sure that he had an enchanted portrait of Sirius, so he could talk to him sometimes.

"Sirius, I don't have much time, but can I discuss something with you?" Harry began.

At first, the portrait didn't move, and Harry thought that Sirius wasn't there, but sure enough Sirius' calming voice filled the room.

"Yes child, ask away," Sirius replied with a smile.

"Remember when...you and Remus were together?" Harry stammered. It wasn't awkward, Harry and Sirius were still very close.

"Yes, of course. I loved him," Sirius replied.

"How did you know you were...attracted to blokes?" Harry asked.

"I never knew until I realized that I had feelings for Remus. When I came to terms with who I was, Remus also told me that he liked men too." Sirius answered.

"I'm curious, why do you ask, Harry?" He said.

"No reason." Harry lied.

"Harry you know you can talk to me about anything,"

"I know." he assured Sirius.

He tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat, he didn't know why he'd been acting so weak lately.

He didn't want to cry. Harry James Potter never cried.

"Malfoy and his gang beat me up today. I'm fine, but it's what Malfoy said that got to me." Harry told
Sirius, hoping he didn't sound like a tattle-tale.

"What did he say, Harry?" Sirius asked.

"He called me a faggot. I know - it's a common insult, by why is it bothering me so much?

I also...caught myself marveling at how nice Malfoy's hair looked today." Harry admitted, blushing.

"Harry. This doesn't mean anything, nobody can tell you who you are. Oh, if only I were around I would teach Draco Malfoy a thing or two about justice. Imagine that. Malfoy actually getting what he deserves." Sirius mused.

"I better get to class, thanks for the talk Sirius," Harry beamed as he left his suite.

Potions was the only class that Slytherins and Gryffindors had together, and Harry hated every second of it. Snape often paired him with Malfoy just for amusement, and Harry hated that.

"Today we'll be working on Love Potions," Snape's boring voice drawled.

He had a list of partners, and Harry hoped his partner was not Malfoy.

Snape began reading off the pairs:

Neville Longbottom, Pansy Parkinson

Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley

Ginny Weasley, Blaise Zabini

Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy

The list went on, but Harry wasn't listening. Great. I get to drink a love potion with Draco Malfoy.

The thought of Draco and himself desperately snogging each other until the potion wore off made Harry feel sick.

Draco was secretly very happy when he heard his name paired with Potter's name.

He couldn't wait to hear everything Harry loved about him, and snog him until they couldn't snog any longer. Draco began stirring their potion. Harry was sitting on the stool next to his, counting some beans to put into the potion. Draco noted the odd looking mark on Harry's wrist, but didn't think anything of it.

"5,6,7." Harry finished counting the beans.

"There." he glared at Draco from under his glasses. Draco added the beans to the now purple potion.

"Once you are finished with your potions, both partners must drink exactly half of the potion."

Snape said in a monotone voice.

"Let's get this over with, Malfoy." Harry suggested as he downed his half of the potion. He didn't feel different at all, actually. He knew he did something wrong as soon as the potion settled into Malfoy.

Draco felt the sudden need to speak, so he did. But not to Harry, to Snape.

"I love the way your voice drones. It sets me into a mood, it's calming. I love it. I love the way your robes swish around your feet when you walk. I love the way your hair falls to your shoulders."

Draco blurted out. Harry laughed, but regretted it as soon as he did.

"Thirty points from Gryffindor for sabotaging Malfoy's potion!' Snape hissed between clenched teeth.

Snape grabbed Draco by the wrist and dragged him to his potion stash, telling him to drink the antidote to the potion.

"Only if you say you love me," Draco announced dreamily.

Snape had a very displeased look on his face. He glared at Harry before reluctantly saying

'I love you.' to Draco. Draco happily downed the antidote. Seconds later, he looked around the room with a confused look on his face. Then he remembered his short term 'romance' with Snape and glared at Harry.

"You...you sabotaged me!" He yelled, pointing a finger at Harry.

Harry bit his lip. He had indeed sabotaged the potion, but only because he simply did not want to be in love with Draco Malfoy.

TO BE CONTINUED