Drabble. Written for the OTP Boot Camp Challenge. Prompt: fascination.
morbid fascination
Morbidly fascinated, Draco watched. This was the golden boy they were talking about; how could he carry out such an order so strictly against his morals? Sure, they were Aurors now, certified and authorized to take a life if so commanded but . . . Draco didn't think Harry had it in him. (When Draco thought about, he didn't think he himself had it in him.)
But look, look what he's doing right now, his wand pointed at the enemy's head ready to use, ready to kill if he didn't surrender. It occurred to Draco that this wasn't the same boy he had teased to hide his true feelings (and what were they? He didn't even know. . .), this was someone who had been to hell and back. Someone who had seen death, and escaped it, more times the he could count. Now, he was the one who was about to deal the card that said, "You lose, game over".
And Draco couldn't help but fall (fall? Since when was he falling?) harder for this new Harry that may or may not have been there all along.
Draco said, "Are you sure you can do this, Harry?" and Harry replied confidently, "Yes, I am." (There was something in his eyes when he said that, Draco swore he saw it then.)
Then, Harry's lips were moving again to formulate the Unforgivable that took (he knew personally) and never gave (he wished he didn't know personally).
Yes, he watched with pure intrigue as everything went green (and not the green of Harry's eyes, a much more sinister jade).
Draco Malfoy was utterly fascinated by him.
Exceedingly so.