Harry's pulse roared in his ears. The words Ron had spat - the raw confession hanging between them - rattled through his chest like a Bludger that refused to land.
Harry couldn't breathe. Couldn't sit there between Ron's wounded stare and Hermione's wide, questioning eyes. So he did the only thing he knew how to do.
He ran.
The invisibility cloak slipped over his shoulders before either of them could stop him. The portrait hole swung open, and he was gone, the muffled sound of Hermione calling his name fading into the dark corridors of the castle.
His feet carried him without thought, down staircases and through shadowed halls, past snoring portraits and the faint creak of the castle settling for the night. He shouldn't have known the path, not really, but some instinct drove him down, lower and lower, until the air grew colder and damper.
The dungeons.
Slytherin territory.
He slowed near the familiar stretch of blank stone wall. Draco had explained once, late at night, about the password and the entrance, though Harry never thought he'd dare to use it. Now, desperation shoved hesitation aside.
He whispered the word Draco had murmured weeks ago, his voice almost trembling. The stones shuddered, shifting silently until the wall opened like a mouth. Harry slipped inside, heart pounding.
The common room was dark, lit only by the eerie green glow of the Black Lake pressing against the tall windows. It was colder than Gryffindor Tower, sleek and sharp where Harry's dormitory was warm and homey. But Draco had once told him he hated it less when it was empty.
And tonight, it was.
Except-
"Potter?"
Harry nearly yelled, spinning toward the sound. Draco stood in the doorway of a side corridor, hair tousled, eyes wide. His robes were loose, like he'd just thrown them over his pajamas.
Harry yanked the cloak off, chest heaving. "Draco."
Draco glanced around, wary. "Are you mad? If anyone else saw you..."
"I don't care," Harry blurted. His voice cracked. "I had to come."
Something in Harry's tone must've pierced through Draco's irritation, because his sharp retort died on his lips. Instead, he crossed the room, lowering his voice. "What happened?"
Harry's hands shook as he pushed them through his hair, words tumbling out in a rush. "Ron knows. He was waiting when I got back. Hermione was there too, but she doesn't-..she doesn't know everything yet. But Ron…" He broke off, his throat tight. "Theo told him. He knows we kissed. And then he... Draco, he said he..."
Draco's hand caught his arm, grounding him. "Slow down. He said what?"
Harry swallowed hard, meeting Draco's steady grey eyes. "He said he likes me. Not just as a mate. More."
The words hung heavy in the green glow, sharp and suffocating.
Draco's expression flickered, shock, then disbelief, then something unreadable settling over his features. He let go of Harry's arm, stepping back just slightly. "Weasley," he said flatly. "Of course."
Harry's heart lurched. "I didn't know. I swear, I didn't-"
"I didn't say you did," Draco cut in, though his voice was brittle. He turned, pacing across the rug. His silhouette was sharp against the shifting green light of the lake. "So that's why Theo was acting strange when he left. He didn't keep the secret, he delivered it right into Weasley's lap."
Harry clenched his fists. "Ron's angry. Hurt. I've never seen him like that."
Draco stopped pacing, his gaze snapping back to Harry. His voice softened, but it still carried that steel edge. "And what about you, Potter? You run straight to me. Not to him. Not to Granger. To me."
Harry froze, the truth of it hitting harder than he'd expected. His throat felt raw. "Because you're the only one who makes sense right now."
Draco's breath caught, almost imperceptible. He stepped closer, close enough that Harry could see the faint shadows under his eyes. "And if Weasley told you he wants you… do you?"
Harry's pulse stuttered. He thought of Ron's voice, trembling but certain, and Hermione's shocked silence. He thought of everything they'd been through together — all the battles, the nights in the tent, the trust so deep it felt like breathing.
But when he looked at Draco, really looked, all he saw was the boy who leaned against him in quiet classrooms, who dropped the mask only when no one else was watching.
Harry lifted his chin, steady despite the storm inside him. "No. I don't want Ron. I came here because I wanted you."
For a heartbeat, Draco didn't move. Then, in a swift motion, he reached out, slowly, to kiss him again.
The lake shifted outside, shadows swirling across the stone. And deep in the heart of Slytherin's lair, Harry Potter chose where he wanted to be.