Author's Note: Hello, all! This story started from a quote I read….quite a funny one, that I made into an icon (it, along with several others, are on my LJ account, if you'd like to take a peek. The link is my homepage!). However, I kept thinking over it, and the whole time, I thought of Hermione saying to him, "He's just a frog, Harry. He won't turn into a prince" or some such thing, and Harry replying in kind. It just…amused me, I supposed, and I've always wanted to write my own "coming out" story, so to speak, so here it is! I hope you enjoy…it was a bit longer than I had anticipated, luckily, just barely reaching 1,000 words…1063, to be exact! LOL. Anyway, thanks to all who are reading this…
"You have to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince."
"We need to talk," Gryffindor's resident know-it-all murmured to her best friend, one Harry James Potter, at dinner that night. The best friend in question didn't even glance at her, too interested in watching a certain platinum haired Slytherin across the Great Hall, and chose to instead nod his head in understanding. She sighed, frustrated, before slapping her boyfriend (though no one knew yet, besides the two of them) lightly on the shoulder for talking with his mouth full and spraying food on unsuspecting first years.
Quickly finishing her roll and not bothering to wait for dessert, she roughly grabbed the raven haired Gryffindor by the shoulder, telling Ron that they were going to study in the library, making him immediately take his seat, and forcibly removed her friend from the dining hall.
They were at the portrait hole of the tower before they stopped, and after uttering the password (knowledge is power) to the Fat Lady, slipped inside the common room. The two took a seat at their normal table, by the fireplace in the slightly overstuffed and garish scarlet chairs.
Harry raised a brow at his bushy-haired friend. "Was there a reason you removed me from the hall like that? And without having dessert first, no less." He tutted at her teasingly, curious as to what was going on.
Hermione scowled. "Why don't you tell me, Harry? Know anything interesting about the Slytherins, maybe?"
Frowning, he answered, "I have no clue what you are speaking of. Enlighten me, if you would." Inwardly, he worried. She knew his secret. He'd been too obvious at dinner with his staring, but he couldn't help himself. The Slytherin had gone out of his way to make every thing he did erotic that meal in an attempt to torture his lover. And oh, what torture it had been.
She raised a brow. "I was speaking, as you know, of the attention you paid a certain snake by the name of Draco Malfoy?"
Sighing, he replied, "What of it, Herm?"
"I want to know why you are suddenly so attentive to everything Malfoy does, and I want to know now." She had a dangerous look on her face; the one she often wore when denied knowledge that she wanted to have.
"Because…I'm attracted to him. I have feelings for him." He told her hesitantly, though there was no doubt in his voice.
With a screech, she demanded, "What in the bleeding hell are you talking about, you have feelings for him? How could you have feelings for Malfoy, the git who has made you miserable fort he past six years of your life?"
Pushing a hand through his mussed hair, the wizard replied, "I know you won't understand, but Draco's changed, Hermione. He's changed a lot."
The witch shook her head. "No, Harry. He hasn't changed. He's just a slimy, no-good Slytherin. A frog," she said as Neville's toad hopped onto the table in front of him. She scowled at the thing before turning back to her friend.
The Gryffindor glowered. "Yes, but how do you know that this 'frog' won't turn into a prince?"
Raising a brow, Hermione responded in kind, "And how do you know he's just not one of the hundreds of other dirty, warty toads out there?"
Harry threw his head back and laughed. "Because I've already kissed him."
His best friend gasped, absolutely appalled. "You did what! Why would you…do something so horrible, with a SLYTHERIN no less, Harry, who is a death eater to be sure, without even bothering to tell us?"
The Boy-Who-Lived chuckled sadistically. "Firstly, if it matters so much whom I decide to engage in a romantic relationship, maybe you and Ron could've told me about your own relationship? I, of course, realized that it was your own business what you do behind closed doors, and that you would inform me of your blossoming love when ready. And, more than that, I am quite aware of the fact that Draco is a Slytherin, and it doesn't bother me in the least. Also, considering the fact that we've done one hell of a lot more than snog, I know for a fact that he doesn't have a Dark Mark."
The other Gryffindor just stared, unable to comprehend what was being told to her. "What?" she demanded, to which the raven-haired man simply rolled his eyes.
He shook his head at her. "I care about him, Hermione, I care about him a lot. I know you don't want to, but try and understand, for me."
She looked at him, bewildered. "But why? WHY do you care for someone you've despised for so many years, whose done so many horrible things to you, to us?"
"I told you, Hermione. He's changed…and so have I." With that last cryptic remark, he stood. "I'm going to find Draco, Herm. I'll talk to you later, after you've had time to think. Make sure not to tell Ron, though. I'd like to do it myself, when we are both ready. Bye."
Later that night, he and Draco were sitting on the Quidditch pitch, speaking quietly of inconsequential things, trading kisses every once in a while, and enjoying each other's company as they watched thesun set. They heard a cough suddenly, and turned to see Hermione standing behind them.
Clearing her throat, she began, "I just wanted to say, Harry, that, though I may not have liked Malfoy, I take your word for it that he's changed."
Her friend smiled up at her from his place in the Slytherin's arms. "So you're okay with this?" he said, gesturing between himself and the blond wrapped around him.
"Yes, I'm fine with it, Harry. However, you'd better find a way to tell Ron about your frog turned prince." Hermione met his emerald eyes with her own laughing hazel ones, her face alight with a smile.
The blond beside him stated quietly, "And soon, because here comes Weasley now, a look to kill marring his freckled face." He smiled slightly at Granger, and she returned it with a small smile of her own.
Harry's face lost all of the color. "Save me, my prince, from the coming evil!" hegasped dramatically, flailing his arms and throwing himself onto his boyfriend's lap.
Laughter from the two, once enemies, now drawn together by their love for the raven-haired Gryffindor, filled the night.
Now tell me, does it need a sequel? ponders I'll let you decide!