A Beautifully Pathetic Fairytale
Harry slouched in the Gryffindor common room. His back fell upon the red and gold trimmed chair. Somewhere in the distance, Hermione's voice seemed to echo, becoming more faint with every second. Harry sat preoccupied and barely listening. His thoughts carried him farther and farther away from the real world. He was in love. None of his friends knew and he secretly thanked God for that. He could just imagine what they would say or even do. His friends, being Gryffindors like himself, were loyal yet how much, he could not know in a matter such as this.
He rested his palm across his eyes. He wanted to burn of fever for then he could escape to the confinement of his bed and dream; and hopefully it would be of her. He paused, Hermione's voice seemed to carry itself back to Harry. After a few moments, he regained all consciousness.
"Harry, what do you think?" Hermione finally asked him, turning her heels towards him in the process.
"Uhmm… wonderful. Great idea 'Mione."
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Harry, you weren't even listening were you? That's not even an excusable answer to what I asked! I was talking about the S.P.E.W!"
"Oh, sorry 'Mione. I just got a lot on my mind." He replied in a cheerful tone, smiling.
Harry then put on his best pout and waited for her slow but reassuring smile. When she finally did, he grabbed an apple off the corner of the coffee table and pranced out of the common room.
Harry turned to the corridor and took a bite out of his apple, chewing happily. Although his reality was in deep and utter turmoil, his fantasy was still alive. He was going to win her heart just like a prince in one of those muggle beautifully pathetic fairytales. He smiled at such a thought and strode down the steps. Unaware in all this daydreaming, he ran into the one person he did not want to see, dear Severus Snape.
Harry's face soon grimaced as he stared straight into the eyes of the greasy haired git. Without helping up his professor, Harry brushed himself off and smiled at the professor sarcastically. Severus continued to sit on the ground and stared dumbfounded at the fifth year unable to utter a single syllable.
Harry continued to prance until he found himself in front of the Ravenclaw portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw, which like the Fat Lady, was a portrait door to get inside the Ravenclaw common rooms. Harry paused, questioning if he should do such an act of courageousness but then as he went to continue, a figure dressed in green and silver tackled him to the floor.
Harry sputtered, "What… What… What was that for?"
Draco smiled, "Well, I couldn't let you get the girl, could I?"
Harry brushed himself off and helped his peer up; Draco brushed himself off as well. Harry eyed him suspiciously.
"You never liked her until I liked her!"
"I know, I could say I was in denial but that wouldn't be true, would it? Harry Potter, I have always found the need to be better than you in every aspect of these years at Hogwarts. Is it my fault that she just happens to be on the way of being better than you?"
Harry paused, thinking hard on what the Slytherin said, "Well no but it is wrong! I liked her first, if she chooses you then who will ever want me? If I'm defied, it'll be the end of the world as we know it. Voldemort will rise and the death eaters along with him."
"Harry, Harry! Don't be so dramatic. I swear Voldemort should have killed you when you were younger. At least then, we wouldn't have to suffer by listening to your pathetic excuses about why you aren't physically capable of fighting a superior wizard. I swear, you're worse than my mother."
Harry dropped his jaw in utter shock. He could not believe that Malfoy had just said those words.
He grasped his wand out of the pocket of his charcoal black school robes.
"Malfoy, you have chosen your path, let me choose mine!"
The Slytherin merely laughed at the scrawny boy with glasses.
"I already told you, I have to be better than you, it's this obsession I have. You're just going to have to live with it or die with it!"
"Then this is war!" Harry bellowed at the top of his lungs.
His scream echoed the halls as a ghostly wind blew between them.
"So be it!" Draco uttered with the same magnitude of Harry.
The boys paced in a circle, eyes directly in the others'.
Finally, Harry yelled, "Expelliarmus!"
The spell hit Draco but nothing was knocked from his hand.
"I'm not even holding a wand, idiot! My father was right when he said you were weak at fighting but by golly, I didn't think he meant tremendously.
Draco brought his hand to his pocket and uttered a single incantation at Harry. At that moment, a green spark flew in the air from the tip of Draco's wand and slowly crept towards Harry as though Death itself was allowing Harry these few last breaths.
The green mist absorbed itself into Harry's skin and soon the Gryffindor fell with a voluminous thud thus echoing throughout the halls.
Draco wiped his wand on his cloak, "Gryffindor pansy. Learn how to draw, idiot!"
Draco then kicked the corpse to the side and knocked on the portrait.
A girl of olive skin answered. Her long black hair hung in the air as she leaned in to leave a kiss on the Slytherin's lips.
She then silently closed the portrait and Draco bellowed, "Yes! Yes! Yes!"
He danced in the middle of the corridor, "I'm better than Harry Potter. I got the girl. I'm better than Harry Potter. I got the girl."
The dear old Potions master peered from the corner of the corridor, chuckling to himself.
"Atta' boy, Draco. You show 'em."