“No, I don’t know why you can’t. I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t understand. Because you’re Harry fucking Potter,” Draco spits out. “If you come out, majority of people will still love you. You’ll still be their hero, their saviour. If I do, it’s just another thing they can use against me.”
“Okay,” Harry says, holding his hands up placatingly, “you aren’t ready to go public. I understand that. But why do you insist on keeping it a secret from everyone? Your friends, your parents?”
Partially because he’s drunk and partially because he’s frustrated, and angry, and scared, and wants Harry to feel even a fraction of the pain he feels, he finds himself saying, “You don’t understand what it’s like! Your parents are —”
“Dead,” Harry says, coldly.