Just for you, Stace-Tace. I tried very hard to make this one grammatically
presentable...
Highly inspired by the song 'Perfect' by Simple Plan. Remember when I told you I'd never be able to write a Draco/Harry? Well it seems that I'd do anything for you ne? ^^=
I beg you, leave a review, I've never written D/H before, tell me if it's good, please...
O-O¬ Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.
*I Can't Be Perfect...*
By Franny Moon
~O~
Hey dad, look at me
Think back and talk to me
Did I grow up according to plan?
~O~
Who would pay an exorbitant price to buy an uncomfortable chair? Yes, it was real fancy black leather, so what? It wasn't comfortable.
And yet, Lucius Malfoy was one of those who could spent a worker's whole year of salary for a set of chairs in which no one would like to sit for more than five minutes, realised Draco, shifting a bit in the luxurious furniture.
And Merlin knew he'd most likely have to spend more than five mere minutes in this seat.
Lucius Malfoy, surrounded by his usual aura of great black elegance, stepped quietly in the tiny room he labelled as his torture room.
It wasn't a *real* torture room, even if Draco knew his father well enough to say that he probably had one in some hidden area of the foundation.
In fact, he liked to describe it pompously as his quarter of pain and sorrow because it was where he brought the employees he planned to not-so- nicely fire, it was where he brought the poor wizards who owed him juicy amounts of money; it was where he brought every people he knew he'd bring down.
Only disappointing failures got to deal with him in this room and that's why he was there, digging his nails painfully in the armrests.
He couldn't say he hated the feeling though. The feeling of his nails piercing this flat textile, just like the feeling of those same perfect nails digging in pale smooth flesh.
Digging deep enough to draw blood... a quite lovely picture, he had to admit it.
The feeling he didn't like at all however, was this strange mixture of adrenaline and anxiety. He knew that he'd lose the control of the situation as soon as his father would set a first glare on him. He detested losing the control...
And when he felt Lucius raises his gaze to him, he painfully sensed the slow loss of his power over the situation.
~O~
Do you think I'm wasting my time
Doing things I wanna do?
'Cuz it hurts when you disapprove all along
~O~
"Could you please tell me, Draco, what was the meaning of this owl you sent to me?" he said, agonizingly saying every words independently, as if they were distinct sentences.
Draco cleared his throat, chasing a lump he hadn't even acknowledged.
"I think it was perfectly clear, Father." He stated, trying to use the same threatening tone his interlocutor used on him when he was naughty, back in his childhood.
"Listen carefully boy, because I shall certainly not repeat it. Can you only imagine how hard it was for me to bring you back home in the middle of the school year only to have this conversation with you? If it is a joke, Draco, it is not funny. I didn't raise you this way."
" You didn't raise me at all!"
Oh my... what had he done... He couldn't stop the menacing reproach from escaping his lips. He hadn't the control? Fine, but he would certainly not miss this last chance to say everything he had to say to his father.
"Excuse me?" the older man whistled, this time untying every syllables.
"I said..."
"Don't you dare to repeat this in front of me, boy."
"Yeah? Why not?"
"I didn't raise to be so insolent!"
" I already told you! You didn't raise me at all!" the blond boy shouted to his father.
Lucius inhaled sharply.
"We will have many opportunities to calmly talk about this later, but for now, I'd like some explanations about this owl." He hissed in a tone that clearly meant he never wanted to ever hear about this again.
~O~
And now I try hard to make it
I just want to make you proud
I'm never gonna be good enough for you
I can't pretend that I'm all right
And you can't change me
~O~
With a sigh, Draco rested back in his seat, getting ready to face the situation.
He closed his eyes, trying to regain a semblance of composure, but as soon as his eyes were closed, he found himself thinking about this tanned skin against his, this dark hair he liked to grasp fiercely, these clouded green eyes, shimmering in tears of pain and ultimate pleasure.
Shivering in undeniable enjoyment, he hastily opened his eyes, clearing his mind of these flashes of sublime skins, rubbing against each other, melting in each other. It wasn't the moment. Even if it indeed gave him a bit of courage, it wasn't the moment at all to think about it.
"Since you seem to do not be ready to begin, I shall help you a little." Lucius began, his voice blank. "You wrote that you didn't want to keep training to serve the Dark Lord, Draco."
"It's right, Father. I don't want to serve the Dark Lord."
"And why is that?" he asked , leaning in.
" In the war that is to come, I'll proudly stand in the opposite camp."
Lucius was so shocked that it seemed his eyes could roll off their orbits at any moment. Sure, for Draco it was priceless, but he couldn't appreciate the sight right now, too worried of what was to come.
The longhaired man inhaled calmly.
"And why is that?" he repeated in a menacing tone.
"I..."
That was the difficult part...
"I got... close to one of the pillars of the opposition."
"Don't tell me you befriend this Mudblood Granger or this Muggle-Lover Weasley. Or even worse, *Potter*."
Draco knew that it was possible to say 'Potter' in a disgusted voice, he had experienced it, but he never knew that it could be said in this tone full of hatred and revulsion.
"I... I actually fell in love."
Draco remembered with a weak smile how hard it had been to admit it in the first place. How long it had taken for him to discover it, then to find a way to express it.
But above all, he remembered the expression on Harry Potter's face when he had told him this mere, pitiful and ashamed 'I love you' . The expression of sheer joy, the weak smile, the tears of happiness, the shaky hands reaching for his. I remembered it all too well.
~O~
'Cuz we lost it all
Nothing last for ever
I'm sorry I can't be perfect
Now it's just too late and we can't go back
I'm sorry, I can't be perfect
~O~
"Fell in love?" Lucius repeated with repugnance and irritation. "Malfoys don't 'fall in love'."
Draco felt a little pang in his heart, thinking about his poor mother.
" Well it seems I don't deserve to be a Malfoy then." He said, sending a killing glare to his father.
"And may I know who is the lucky one?" the older man asked ironically, making Draco feel stupid and out of place.
The boy took a deep breath, getting ready to say this name he usually loved to say. Getting ready to make the delightful syllables roll on his thong to be laughed at as soon at they'd leave his pale lips.
"Harry Potter." He said, matter-of-factly.
"Harry Potter? As in The-Boy-Who-Lived? As in the executioner of our dear Lord?"
"YOUR dear Lord. Yes."
"I never thought you'd disappoint me so much, Draco."
"I..."
"This is disgusting. YOU are disgusting! You and...*him*..."
"Shut up! I'll stand next to him in the battlefield and I swear I'll kill you with my own two hands, if it's necessary, but shut up! You've already insulted him-and me for that matter- enough over the past years! Now just shut up!"
~O~
I try not to think
About the pain I feel inside
Did you know you used to be my hero?
~O~
Draco knew that his father was about to say it, but he wouldn't let him. No. He'd keep what remained of his dignity, his Malfoy Pride.
"That's why I'm leaving this place."
His words crashed on the dark walls to be echoed in the small room.
No. He wouldn't let his father banish him of the Malfoy manor. When he'd pass the door to go back to Hogwarts, it'd be the last time.
Lucius' reign above his son's action was over.
"Out..." he said, feigning to be calm.
Draco raised an eyebrow.
"OUT! I want you OUT! Leave this place and never come back!" he furiously screamed to his only child.
The temper got the better of him and it made Draco smile wickedly.
"Your wish is my command, *father*" he said, absurdly politely.
And then, just then, he realized that in the path of the conversation, he had regained the control and liked that.
I lost the control to his father, and now he loses his father, but he regains the control.
Ironic.
~O~
And now I try hard to make it
I just want to make you proud
I'm never gonna be good enough for you
I can't stand another fight
And nothing's alright
~O~
And when Draco arrived in Hogwarts' grounds, he knew he was home. Hogwarts was home for Harry too. What would it be like to share the same dwelling? Wondered Draco, climbing the stairs back to his dorm.
Right now, he felt victorious, but he knew that when the dark would come, when he'd crawl in his bed, a dozen of voices would appear in his head, tormenting him, telling him he hadn't make the right decision. But a sweet but firm voice would tell them to shut up.
Harry would lay with him to comfort him. Because he knew tonight he'd be weak. He'd allow himself to be weak, to lower his guard, to cry on a warm shoulder.
And he'd try to go on, forgetting the even existence of this disturbed family. And maybe after years and years of separation, he'd forget his father's voice, his father's face.
He'd maybe forget the aseptic ambiance of the Malfoy manor. The eternal shadows, the dark walls, the gigantic room dark-green room he called his.
And maybe Harry would even make him forget the lack of caresses, the lack of goodnight kisses. He'd teach him how to cuddle, how to accept affection, how to give it back.
Summer would come and he'd have the time of his life, travelling, exploring England, Ireland maybe. He wouldn't be trapped in this glass prison. His wings were healed, he could fly now.
Flyaway.
No more training to be a professional murderer, no more tall long-haired blond imbecile to tell him what to do.
He was free.
And Harry would teach him the meaning of freedom.
~O~
All the days you spent with me
Now seem so far away
And it feels like you don't care, anymore
~O~
And this night, when Harry joined Draco in his bed, no words were spoken... The would love each other in the only way they knew. Two disturbed children playing with fire.
Soft hands brushed glistening cheeks.
Pale lips met wet ones in fevered kisses.
Greedy tongues licked gems of water.
Blond and black hairs tangled together.
Tender lips caressed closed eyelids and pearl-white teeth tore dark eyelashes off.
Moans and sobs were muffled in hot and voracious mouths.
Perfect nails dug in smooth chest and arms and blood spattered pale and tanned skins.
Breaths came ragged and hearts hammered at the same wild rhythm.
Smouldering paths of saliva sparkled in gracious moonlight rays.
Long fingers grasped tousled hair.
Drops of sweats were hungrily licked away.
That was love. A twisted kind of love, but it was love. It was their way to love each other and it was exquisite. It was hopeless and burning.
They never learnt to love properly, and the two of them often forgot the thin line between pain and pleasure.
They gripped each other so tightly, they melt into each other so, that they couldn't know which one took the other, and which one was taken.
When the sun started to rise, all their fluids were mixed up in a comfortable mess. Two bony bodies were soldered together, never to be parted again.
And a raspy indistinct murmur invaded Harry's ear.
"You do realize I disowned my family for the love of you?"
A weak and sleepy smile played on the dark-haired boys swollen lips.
"I'd do the same anytime for you, anytime."
~O~
Nothing's gonna change the things that you said
Nothing's gonna make this right again
Please don't turn your back
I can't believe it's hard just to talk to you
'Cuz you don't understand
~O~
presentable...
Highly inspired by the song 'Perfect' by Simple Plan. Remember when I told you I'd never be able to write a Draco/Harry? Well it seems that I'd do anything for you ne? ^^=
I beg you, leave a review, I've never written D/H before, tell me if it's good, please...
O-O¬ Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.
*I Can't Be Perfect...*
By Franny Moon
~O~
Hey dad, look at me
Think back and talk to me
Did I grow up according to plan?
~O~
Who would pay an exorbitant price to buy an uncomfortable chair? Yes, it was real fancy black leather, so what? It wasn't comfortable.
And yet, Lucius Malfoy was one of those who could spent a worker's whole year of salary for a set of chairs in which no one would like to sit for more than five minutes, realised Draco, shifting a bit in the luxurious furniture.
And Merlin knew he'd most likely have to spend more than five mere minutes in this seat.
Lucius Malfoy, surrounded by his usual aura of great black elegance, stepped quietly in the tiny room he labelled as his torture room.
It wasn't a *real* torture room, even if Draco knew his father well enough to say that he probably had one in some hidden area of the foundation.
In fact, he liked to describe it pompously as his quarter of pain and sorrow because it was where he brought the employees he planned to not-so- nicely fire, it was where he brought the poor wizards who owed him juicy amounts of money; it was where he brought every people he knew he'd bring down.
Only disappointing failures got to deal with him in this room and that's why he was there, digging his nails painfully in the armrests.
He couldn't say he hated the feeling though. The feeling of his nails piercing this flat textile, just like the feeling of those same perfect nails digging in pale smooth flesh.
Digging deep enough to draw blood... a quite lovely picture, he had to admit it.
The feeling he didn't like at all however, was this strange mixture of adrenaline and anxiety. He knew that he'd lose the control of the situation as soon as his father would set a first glare on him. He detested losing the control...
And when he felt Lucius raises his gaze to him, he painfully sensed the slow loss of his power over the situation.
~O~
Do you think I'm wasting my time
Doing things I wanna do?
'Cuz it hurts when you disapprove all along
~O~
"Could you please tell me, Draco, what was the meaning of this owl you sent to me?" he said, agonizingly saying every words independently, as if they were distinct sentences.
Draco cleared his throat, chasing a lump he hadn't even acknowledged.
"I think it was perfectly clear, Father." He stated, trying to use the same threatening tone his interlocutor used on him when he was naughty, back in his childhood.
"Listen carefully boy, because I shall certainly not repeat it. Can you only imagine how hard it was for me to bring you back home in the middle of the school year only to have this conversation with you? If it is a joke, Draco, it is not funny. I didn't raise you this way."
" You didn't raise me at all!"
Oh my... what had he done... He couldn't stop the menacing reproach from escaping his lips. He hadn't the control? Fine, but he would certainly not miss this last chance to say everything he had to say to his father.
"Excuse me?" the older man whistled, this time untying every syllables.
"I said..."
"Don't you dare to repeat this in front of me, boy."
"Yeah? Why not?"
"I didn't raise to be so insolent!"
" I already told you! You didn't raise me at all!" the blond boy shouted to his father.
Lucius inhaled sharply.
"We will have many opportunities to calmly talk about this later, but for now, I'd like some explanations about this owl." He hissed in a tone that clearly meant he never wanted to ever hear about this again.
~O~
And now I try hard to make it
I just want to make you proud
I'm never gonna be good enough for you
I can't pretend that I'm all right
And you can't change me
~O~
With a sigh, Draco rested back in his seat, getting ready to face the situation.
He closed his eyes, trying to regain a semblance of composure, but as soon as his eyes were closed, he found himself thinking about this tanned skin against his, this dark hair he liked to grasp fiercely, these clouded green eyes, shimmering in tears of pain and ultimate pleasure.
Shivering in undeniable enjoyment, he hastily opened his eyes, clearing his mind of these flashes of sublime skins, rubbing against each other, melting in each other. It wasn't the moment. Even if it indeed gave him a bit of courage, it wasn't the moment at all to think about it.
"Since you seem to do not be ready to begin, I shall help you a little." Lucius began, his voice blank. "You wrote that you didn't want to keep training to serve the Dark Lord, Draco."
"It's right, Father. I don't want to serve the Dark Lord."
"And why is that?" he asked , leaning in.
" In the war that is to come, I'll proudly stand in the opposite camp."
Lucius was so shocked that it seemed his eyes could roll off their orbits at any moment. Sure, for Draco it was priceless, but he couldn't appreciate the sight right now, too worried of what was to come.
The longhaired man inhaled calmly.
"And why is that?" he repeated in a menacing tone.
"I..."
That was the difficult part...
"I got... close to one of the pillars of the opposition."
"Don't tell me you befriend this Mudblood Granger or this Muggle-Lover Weasley. Or even worse, *Potter*."
Draco knew that it was possible to say 'Potter' in a disgusted voice, he had experienced it, but he never knew that it could be said in this tone full of hatred and revulsion.
"I... I actually fell in love."
Draco remembered with a weak smile how hard it had been to admit it in the first place. How long it had taken for him to discover it, then to find a way to express it.
But above all, he remembered the expression on Harry Potter's face when he had told him this mere, pitiful and ashamed 'I love you' . The expression of sheer joy, the weak smile, the tears of happiness, the shaky hands reaching for his. I remembered it all too well.
~O~
'Cuz we lost it all
Nothing last for ever
I'm sorry I can't be perfect
Now it's just too late and we can't go back
I'm sorry, I can't be perfect
~O~
"Fell in love?" Lucius repeated with repugnance and irritation. "Malfoys don't 'fall in love'."
Draco felt a little pang in his heart, thinking about his poor mother.
" Well it seems I don't deserve to be a Malfoy then." He said, sending a killing glare to his father.
"And may I know who is the lucky one?" the older man asked ironically, making Draco feel stupid and out of place.
The boy took a deep breath, getting ready to say this name he usually loved to say. Getting ready to make the delightful syllables roll on his thong to be laughed at as soon at they'd leave his pale lips.
"Harry Potter." He said, matter-of-factly.
"Harry Potter? As in The-Boy-Who-Lived? As in the executioner of our dear Lord?"
"YOUR dear Lord. Yes."
"I never thought you'd disappoint me so much, Draco."
"I..."
"This is disgusting. YOU are disgusting! You and...*him*..."
"Shut up! I'll stand next to him in the battlefield and I swear I'll kill you with my own two hands, if it's necessary, but shut up! You've already insulted him-and me for that matter- enough over the past years! Now just shut up!"
~O~
I try not to think
About the pain I feel inside
Did you know you used to be my hero?
~O~
Draco knew that his father was about to say it, but he wouldn't let him. No. He'd keep what remained of his dignity, his Malfoy Pride.
"That's why I'm leaving this place."
His words crashed on the dark walls to be echoed in the small room.
No. He wouldn't let his father banish him of the Malfoy manor. When he'd pass the door to go back to Hogwarts, it'd be the last time.
Lucius' reign above his son's action was over.
"Out..." he said, feigning to be calm.
Draco raised an eyebrow.
"OUT! I want you OUT! Leave this place and never come back!" he furiously screamed to his only child.
The temper got the better of him and it made Draco smile wickedly.
"Your wish is my command, *father*" he said, absurdly politely.
And then, just then, he realized that in the path of the conversation, he had regained the control and liked that.
I lost the control to his father, and now he loses his father, but he regains the control.
Ironic.
~O~
And now I try hard to make it
I just want to make you proud
I'm never gonna be good enough for you
I can't stand another fight
And nothing's alright
~O~
And when Draco arrived in Hogwarts' grounds, he knew he was home. Hogwarts was home for Harry too. What would it be like to share the same dwelling? Wondered Draco, climbing the stairs back to his dorm.
Right now, he felt victorious, but he knew that when the dark would come, when he'd crawl in his bed, a dozen of voices would appear in his head, tormenting him, telling him he hadn't make the right decision. But a sweet but firm voice would tell them to shut up.
Harry would lay with him to comfort him. Because he knew tonight he'd be weak. He'd allow himself to be weak, to lower his guard, to cry on a warm shoulder.
And he'd try to go on, forgetting the even existence of this disturbed family. And maybe after years and years of separation, he'd forget his father's voice, his father's face.
He'd maybe forget the aseptic ambiance of the Malfoy manor. The eternal shadows, the dark walls, the gigantic room dark-green room he called his.
And maybe Harry would even make him forget the lack of caresses, the lack of goodnight kisses. He'd teach him how to cuddle, how to accept affection, how to give it back.
Summer would come and he'd have the time of his life, travelling, exploring England, Ireland maybe. He wouldn't be trapped in this glass prison. His wings were healed, he could fly now.
Flyaway.
No more training to be a professional murderer, no more tall long-haired blond imbecile to tell him what to do.
He was free.
And Harry would teach him the meaning of freedom.
~O~
All the days you spent with me
Now seem so far away
And it feels like you don't care, anymore
~O~
And this night, when Harry joined Draco in his bed, no words were spoken... The would love each other in the only way they knew. Two disturbed children playing with fire.
Soft hands brushed glistening cheeks.
Pale lips met wet ones in fevered kisses.
Greedy tongues licked gems of water.
Blond and black hairs tangled together.
Tender lips caressed closed eyelids and pearl-white teeth tore dark eyelashes off.
Moans and sobs were muffled in hot and voracious mouths.
Perfect nails dug in smooth chest and arms and blood spattered pale and tanned skins.
Breaths came ragged and hearts hammered at the same wild rhythm.
Smouldering paths of saliva sparkled in gracious moonlight rays.
Long fingers grasped tousled hair.
Drops of sweats were hungrily licked away.
That was love. A twisted kind of love, but it was love. It was their way to love each other and it was exquisite. It was hopeless and burning.
They never learnt to love properly, and the two of them often forgot the thin line between pain and pleasure.
They gripped each other so tightly, they melt into each other so, that they couldn't know which one took the other, and which one was taken.
When the sun started to rise, all their fluids were mixed up in a comfortable mess. Two bony bodies were soldered together, never to be parted again.
And a raspy indistinct murmur invaded Harry's ear.
"You do realize I disowned my family for the love of you?"
A weak and sleepy smile played on the dark-haired boys swollen lips.
"I'd do the same anytime for you, anytime."
~O~
Nothing's gonna change the things that you said
Nothing's gonna make this right again
Please don't turn your back
I can't believe it's hard just to talk to you
'Cuz you don't understand
~O~