A/N: This story is going to switch between multiple POV's (XXXxxxXXXxxx symbolises a change in POV or place, or time passing. You'll be able to work out which). For now, I'll restrict it to Harry and Draco. This is set in HPB. It kills me to upset the timeline an events of the Queen's (JKR) version, but I really liked the idea of Draco and Harry growing up together, spending two years in Hogwarts, then developing a life outside of Hogwarts.
I was sat in Hogwarts library when it hit me. Love wasn't something you "had" or said with a girl when looking to get into her pants, it was so much more. And for me, not even to do with girls. It was deep, and meaningful, and at the moment, the person I was trying - had to - to give it to, was filled with utter loathing for me. That's right, I, Draco Malfoy, the perfect representation of Slytherin, am in love with The Chosen One, The-Boy-Who-Lived... Harry fucking Potter. I seethed at this thought, it just had to be Potter... No, Harry. The one person in the world my father could not fathom me being with, this is the person I fell in love with.
I don't even know when it happened. It just... well, always has been this way. Since he refused my friendship, which was given in awe of his beauty, I had to get him to react to me somehow. Provoking him, insulting his poor choice of friends, bringing up his parents (I never liked doing that, he always looked like he was about to cry when I did)... All done out of the hatred that comes with unrequited love. It's not like he knew I loved him, but it still hurt that I could never tell him. He would laugh in my face, and do the stupidest thing ever, and push it back in my face, showing the famous Gryffindor stupidity I always see.
No, telling him wasn't an option yet. I needed a truce first. Yes! That's it! A truce, an end to the almighty war between Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. The next class we had together was Potions, I decided to tell him then.
XXXxxxXXXxxx
I sat down at the Welcoming Feast, dread settling into my stomach. I had seen Malfoy walk into the Great Hall from the direction of the library, and he didn't sneer once. He didn't even bother to throw an insult at me. Malfoy was up to something. And "up to something" and "Malfoy" in the same sentence did not lead for a happy ending.
I put the smallest amount of food onto my plate, and even then, I only picked at it. Dumbledore smiled at me, his eyes twinkling. I scowled back. He sent me to the Dursley's every summer, ignoring my complaints about them. I was physically and verbally abused, and he knew that. He had given the Dursely's the idea, for god's sake. No other teacher believed him, they all said Dumbledore knew what he was doing, and he wouldnt harm The Chosen One. Well, they're wrong. I can never eat properly when I come back to Hogwarts, I'm starved. Just left enough bread and water to survive. It means that my stomach shrinks, and if I do things right, then by the end of the year, I can eat a normal portion of food... For a seven year old.
I looked up to scan the Great Hall. There were too many people for my liking. After being shoved in a small cupboard under the stairs constantly for six weeks, claustrophobia is easily developed. I scanned the Slytherin table absent-mindedly, only stopping to look properly when I noticed something strange. Malfoy was staring right at me, his amazing grey eyes searching out my green ones. We locked eyes, then I had to look away, my cheeks flushed. What? I was blushing from looking at Malfoy. This was a whole different kind of weird.
His eyes looked... haunted. As if he was hiding a secret nobody could know about. I knew he was up to something! But yet... His eyes awoke something inside me. I was covertly gay, only I knew about it. As the muggles put it, I have yet to come out of the closet. His eyes sang to my feelings towards him, not bringing forth anger... but love. I knew I was a Veela, Dumbledore had told me in fourth year, mentioning that other Veela's were coming, particularly from Beauxbatons. All i could think from then on was "Shit. Draco fucking Malfoy is my mate."
XXXxxxXXXxxx
I walked into Potions and Harry was already sat at an empty desk. He looked amazing today. He was... I stopped just for a split second. He was skin and bones. But he had a charm to cover it. Yet, I saw right through it. I carried on towards him, making a mental note-to-self to look it up at a later date.
"Hello, Potter. I have a favour to ask you." I slid into the seat next to him. He jumped a little but then turned to look at me with a sneer on his face.
"And, why, may I ask, would I help you, of all people?" I blinked. I forgot he couldn't feel my feelings.
"Not help. I want to call a truce. I'm sick of the petty arguments over nothing. Think about it. Let me know when you decide."
He smiled at me. "No need. My friends, or the so-called-people I have to call my friends because of Dumblewhore... They're not the type you want around. Of course I'll call a truce."
I smiled, and then settled back into my chair. I had seen the adoration in his eyes when I offered. This was going to be easy... If it weren't for my father. "Dumblewhore. Remind me to ask you about that later." Snape stormed into the room, blinked at me and Harry sat together, and started the lesson.
A/N: Let me know what you think. I've decided to rewrite all of my fanfiction so far. Review and let me know what you think!