As You Wish, Harry, As You Wish.
By yuucchin
Disclaimer: I took no profit over the characters and song used. They aren't mine. The idea of the fic, though, it was mine.
Summary:
"Harry, do you love me, now?" was what he wanted to ask in the end, for the very last time, when he finally couldn't go any further to try and wish for something more. He knew though, he knew the answer just too well for his own liking.
Rated: T (for now)
Warning:
Experimental writing.
SLASH. Men intercourse, though not graphic at all, I assure you. Bad language. HP/DM, which means that Harry was the person in charge, and probably a bit of Harry and Ginny bashing in the beginning (due to angst of one Draco Malfoy). OOC. And then, grammatical errors that can always be found every here and there. I'm so sorry -_-v
[Forgive me I couldn't understand why you were angry,
couldn't read, couldn't understand your heart]
They both stood there, in the hallway full of over-excited-and-expectant looks from the Gryffindors and pointed looks from the lots of Slytherins, they stood and held their own ground with eyes glaring daggers into each other skulls. The silence and tension built around them had risen up menacingly. But they, they didn't speak, not even a fucking word was uttered. They just stared with mixed feelings of hatred, disgust, disappointment, amusement, and… probably lust on Draco's side only, though.
Both boys refused to lessen the tension until Draco—unwillingly of course, but it couldn't be helped, right? He was so desperately in love with the other boy that he would even be willing to sacrifice almost everything for the said boy—reverted his gaze to his side, letting an angry huff into the air while he was detaining his left cheek that was burning like hell. Correction, the whole face felt like bloody pulp. Well, it was bloody, anyway. Most of the blood had dried though.
That was when the crowd that had been holding back their breaths turned into hell broken loose.
"The ferret gave up!"
Soon some satisfied and mocking laughter could be heard echoing through the hundreds-years-old walls, deafening Draco's ears with embarrassment that he had learned to hide so damn well by years of experiences.
"50 points from Gryffindor and Slytherin," a loud voice came from Draco's back, gradually alleviating the crowd, and the students made a way for this source of promising-detention-voice. Draco took a quick glance from the end of his right eye, and saw that Headmistress McGonnagal was striding closer to the both of post-fighting boys, her head was held high with stabbing eyes. Then when she was only a feet away from them, she said with stern voice, "each."
She observed the boys state; disheveled uniforms, some bruises and blood on each other face—probably a dislocated jaw for Malfoy, a broken nose for Potter and… well, thank Merlin, Potter's vintage glasses were not harmed. Malfoy's usually sleek hair was nowhere near tidy. To summarize, both of these had-yet-to-grown-up-men were in a total mess.
"Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy, detention on Saturday, at 8 in the morning. Sharp. Don't be late, or I'll be even more than willing to take more points from you, gentlemen. Mr. Malfoy please go to Pomfrey. Now, Mr. Potter, you follow me."
Draco shot a death glare to those still over-joyed Gryffindorks before turning his back to Potter and walking away, ignoring the unreadable message that Potter sent to him, before Potter himself followed the headmistress to her office.
He didn't even bother to cast some hexes toward the had-not-scrammed-yet laughing group as he walked over, knocking some of those stupid lion minions' shoulders intentionally.
He was just too…
Angry.
Potter shoved him up to the wall, having Draco pinned up to it with no escapes. Potter hold Draco's shirt collar so tightly that Draco feared the Dark Lord Vanquisher might strangle him to death. Draco could see the indignant look Potter gave to him. All he did was just wondering. Why?
Then Potter hissed sternly, almost felt like with only his words he could just pierce into Draco's heart as if a sharp knife would.
"What the fuck did you do to Ginny, you fucking scumbag?!"
So thick with disgust, so full of animosity.
Draco ransacked his brain furiously, trying very hard to remember what the hell that he had indeed done to that ginger whore that could get Harry ended up strangling him to the inches of his life. Draco just couldn't recall anything.
And that the fear of Potter might just finish him off was apparent. He is a very irrational and crude watch dog of that dog, I forgot. Draco mentally chuckled as the irony struck him hard. If only he would do the same for me.
Hadn't gotten any answer from the pale boy he pinned, he asked once more, even more acidic than before.
"The. Fuck. You. Did. To. Her. Malfoy?"
"I don't talk inanity, Potter."
And there the bare fist of the Great and Glorious Harry Potter landed on his cheek, right below his left eyes. The physical pain was no joke, but his heart took more damage.
"That was for saying Ginny a cheap slut."
Draco gathered up himself and while he was aware, despite the fact that he was slightly trembling due to the sudden pain and fear of Harry decided breaking the whole of his heart this time, he retorted to Potter his real opinion.
"What should I say then? A walking pest that flaunt her horrific whore-ness to gain cheap popularity? Pity, Potter. I thought you—"
Draco never got to finish the sentence as Harry angrily punched him again, in the same fucking spot. This time a bit rougher, Draco's back hit the wall and from the sound of it, that was quite a troublesome pain to be looked afterward.
Draco cringed.
And almost shed a tear from the pain that shot throughout his spine.
"You thought you were a better person than her? Than the rest of the world?" Potter asked with his chafed voice, his nose was flaring like he could really produce fire.
"Are, Potter. Yes, aren't I better than you lot, bundle of blood traitors and mudbloods?"
Draco tried to hide his hoarse voice by holding up his chin and putting on his trademark smirk which he had schooled for years to damn perfection and looked into Potter's green eyes defiantly. He refused to make himself appearing more foolish and pathetic in front of Potter. It was enough to have Potter secretly being his Achilles' feet. He didn't have to see Potter triumphantly announcing to the universe that Draco Lucius Malfoy—the scumbag ex-death eater—would be more than eager to be fucked senseless by his own sworn-enemy Harry James Potter, savior of wizarding world.
He would have none of it. Hence, if he needed to say things that he did not mean to save his face, so be it.
Potter's face turned sourer and with ever-so-slightly-sad-and-disappointed look he told Draco, "I thought after the war back then, you would change, you would learn."
Slowly by leaning to the wall, Draco tried to stand up once again, never once lost his eyes on Potter. He stared firmer into those wonderful green orbs, and whispered.
"I've changed," and before Potter could retort back Draco continued, "you just… it was none of your business, Potter." Harry.
"Yeah, right. Now that you are an ex-death eater, you are also a pompous git who has no dignity of being grateful to people who helped your survival. I don't remember you saying any word near thanks or—God forbid, sorry to anyone. I see you still haven't lost some traits that your scumbag of a death eater father possessed, too, has you not?"
Draco clenched his fist, and before he realized it, he punched Potter's nose, mistakenly. He initially aimed it to Potter's jaw, but the sodding prick saw the fist was flying to him and tried to duck the coming fist, yet he missed a second or so—or, maybe just because he was slightly sympathetic to Draco so, he let the fist landed on him. Some compassion.
"Don't you dare to talk about my father, Potter! And, before your poor brain can feed your equally poor opinion, I did learn something from the forsaken war. I learned that I still hate you, your bloody-hero-complex, your fuckfriend, and your stupid of a gang. Everything about you!"
Potter could hear that Draco's voice was strained and full of hurt but, his brain and his brawl has its own mind.
And so, started the messiest fight between Draco and his heartthrob for this year—if not the last in forever.
Angry because he just could not understand Potter.
TBC.