𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒?

Part XI

Part 11:   Love, Maybe

Do you really think
that love is gonna save the world?
Well, I don't think so
Do you really think
that love is gonna save your soul?
Well I sure hope so
I really hope so
But I don't think so

"Do You Believe", The Cardigans

The first day of their second month found them together. The morning was streaming through the window, and rays of light were filling Harry's room. The black-haired man was slowly waking up, in the peaceful warmness of his bed. The bed he was sharing with Draco since that sort of silent truce. Harry smiled softly at the winter sun and, still half asleep, raised a hand to caress the silky blonde hair of his lover, feeling a sort of calm happiness surrounding him.

I'm falling in love with Draco Malfoy, he thought involuntarily.  And with that epiphany, the Boy-Who-Lived woke up completely. Harry blinked and reached for his glasses on the nightstand, suddenly beginning to feel uncomfortable and somehow exposed, while those few words echoed again and again in his mind.

Draco was still peacefully sleeping, unaware of a very awake Harry shifting nervously under the sheets at his side.

Am I *really* falling in love with Draco Malfoy? Harry wondered coldly, suddenly looking at the shape of his lover and considering the strange sensations that hit him as his green gaze laid on the sleeping fair-haired man.

Shit.

Frantically, Harry got up, searching for his clothes while a thousands contrasting emotions swirled in his mind.

No way. I'm not falling in love with him. I *can't* fall in love with him. What the hell was I thinking? He's *Draco Malfoy*! I just can't let him get to me. I don't trust him. I don't trust him at all. I...

Harry was completely dressed now. He looked down, once more, at the fair-haired man. For a while, looking at his relaxed perfect features, Harry felt something softening inside his chest. Draco was so defenceless lying there on Harry's bed, unaware of the contrasting feelings that his presence was causing.

Harry's confusion lasted a while. Finally, the Gryffindor shook his head firmly and, pushing aside any further thought, he left, quickly and without looking back once.  He couldn’t look at the man in his bed, because just looking at Draco evoked too many pleasurable sensations. And Harry was afraid of them, even if, as the worthy brave Gryffindor he happened to be, he would have never admitted it.  Just as he would have never admitted that his possible falling for the Slytherin was becoming a bloody probability.

Harry ran, trying not to think that Gryffindors don’t run away.

"Mmm... Harry?"

When Draco woke up, the bed was empty, but in the past few days he had grown used to this. Harry always got up before him, and would go out for business.   He laid back down on the bed, staying still for a while. Finally he stretched lazily and got up.

Draco was in a good mood that morning. He and Harry had had a good session last night. And he had slept peacefully.  He smirked at his reflection in the mirror of the bathroom.

Harry had been almost caring since that night.

At least he hasn't made me regret giving in so easily that night, Draco considered. Well, not *yet*, he corrected himself.