Note: I'm sorry, I know it's been more than a year since I last updated. What can I say? Well, the crap going on in my life I mentioned when I posted the previous chapter... My husband died in August 2012 after three weeks of intensive care which followed his 10th suicide attempt of the year. Now I am alone with our little boy and I just wasn't able to write anymore. But now I'm back to writing, I wrote a couple of Sherlock BBC fanfics and as I finally had a few fresh ideas for this story, here I am :-)

This chapter is rated T

Please keep in mind that I'm French, hence the English mistakes ;)

CHAPTER 9.

"What are you thinking of?" I ask as I leave a trail of light kisses down his neck. His skin smells of coconut and I can't help but smile. It's been our ritual over the past few weeks. Taking a late bath in the prefects bathroom every day. We spend an hour or two in bath, until our fingers get more wrinkled than Dumbledore's, talking, cuddling and I love those moments when time seems to stop.

"Nothing," he mumbles. But even if he's sitting in water with his back at me and that I can't see his face, I can tell something is worrying him. I tighten my arms around his chest.

"You're still upset about Myrtle?"

Yeah, that damn Moaning Myrtle has done it again. She has 'spied' on us. Just when we were doing unspeakable things. This girl is a pervert, I swear! Anyway, I know Draco is really self-conscious. Even in front of the ghost of a girl who died years ago.

"That four-eyed frustrated virgin can sod off."

"What is it, then?"

"I've been thinking about tomorrow. Haven't you?"

Tomorrow. Yes. Start of another term at Hogwarts. Of course, I have been thinking about this too. For the first time, I'm not looking forward to it. At all. Because this has been the best summer of my life since Hagrid burst into the Hut-on-the-Rock in 91. But I was trying not to think about it. I was trying to seize the moment. To make the most of those last privileged moments together.

"Yes, I have," I admit. I feel him tense in my arms.

"And?" he asks, turning around to face me.

"And what?"

"Well, what do you think? What should we do?"

I raise an eyebrow. "What are you driving at?"

"Whether we should tell people or not."

"Of course not!" I exclaim. "I mean... Have you really considered telling them?" He doesn't reply and I take that as a 'yes'. It never occurred to me that he'd plan to tell people about us. I mean, he spent the last few years telling everyone how much he hated me so I never thought he'd be willing to come out and admit his feelings about me. "Draco," I say, slightly embarrassed, "people wouldn't understand."

He forces an awkward smile. "Ah, I saw this coming. And yet, somehow, deep inside, I still wished you wouldn't say that..."

"Ok, so what do you suggest?! That I sit at the Slytherin table tomorrow and that we hold hands and French kiss during the Sorting Hat ceremony?!"

"No, you're right," he says disdainfully. "We're not going to tell anyone. It would tarnish the reputation of the great Harry Potter. The boy who lived. The wizarding world's saviour. In love, not only with a boy, but with the bad guy. Draco Malfoy, a Death Eater! Oh, what a shame it would be, eh, Harry?"

"That's not what I meant..."

"Yes it's what you meant, and you know it." I hate to admit it, but he's right. I don't really care telling people I'm gay, or bi, or whatever, but it's true, if I wouldn't change him if I could, I would definitely change his name. Draco Malfoy. I used to grimace whenever someone mentioned it and I can already picture Hermione looking reprovingly at me and hear Ron telling me I've gone crazy. "Oh, don't worry, Harry. I'm gonna make things easier for you", he takes me out of my torpor and steps out of the bathtub, drops of water shimmering all over his gorgeously naked body. He sounds as cold and full of hatred as his old self was and my first name in his mouth suddenly doesn't seem to be in its proper place. "We're done."

Those words echo in the bathroom and stab my heart. And it hurts. It hurts so much. I'd rather have Umbridge forcing me to use her Blood Quill or even Voldemort fucking with my brain rather than feeling like this.

"What?" I finally manage to articulate, failing to prevent my voice from shaking.

"You heard me."

"But... it can't be... you can't be serious... Whatever happened to all those weeks we've just spent together?"

"Well, it's been great fun, I won't deny it, but now it's time to get back to reality."

As I watch him pull on his pyjamas, I can't even tell if I'm angry or sad. Both, I guess. "You don't mean a word of it!"

"You sure?" he smirks, making his way towards the door.

"Draco, wait! We can tell them, if you want!"

He sneers. "There is nothing to tell, Potter. You'll never accept your feelings in public. Full stop," he tells me as he reaches the door.

"Draco!" I call, also stepping out of the bathtub.

"Don't move!" he yells. "Don't even try to follow me. Don't talk to me anymore. Forget everything."

"I don't want to! Listen, this is stupid. You know it is! Why don't you-"

"Shut your gob, Potter! Or I'm gonna say things you're not going to like."

I step back into the hot water but I feel like it's still not as hot as my ears and cheeks right now. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

He lets out a long sigh, "Don't fuck with me, Harry."

Oh, so he's back to Harry, now? Pfft! Maybe there's a hint of sadness in his voice, maybe his face has softened a little, but I'm too mad right now to pay much attention. "Fine. Bugger off! That's better this way anyway!"

I hear the door close behind him and I feel as though an invisible hand has reached into my chest and squeezed my heart. In a split second, my anger flies away and I feel the tears welling up. I don't even try to fight them and soon enough, salted drops mix with coconut scented bubbles.

Thanks for reading! Reviews are always welcome! :)

Published on September.9 2013