The Limit Does Not Exist

Before Hogwarts, and before the incredible urgency to impress and live for my family's name, I was simply Draco Malfoy. There weren't expectations attached to the letters that spelled my name. Of course, every child experiences such at that age, but as for me; I didn't know the extent that I would truly miss the utter lack of a plan and permanent future.

I was a jack-of-all-trades so to speak, dabbling in nearly every subject that I could get my hands on. I even found myself compelled to study muggles and their seemingly simple tendencies. I wondered what could be so different from my own teachings; what could these normal people do that I couldn't comprehend? So, I looked into their curriculums and texts and found myself nearly ecstatic at the prospect of their mathematics concepts.

By the age of eleven, I had read from cover to cover over fifteen mathematics textbooks. I suppose I had become a master of calculus two by the time I had begun my wizardry schooling. Not that anyone had found that interesting, in fact, no one actually understood a word of it. Math didn't automatically equate to life for them as it had for me. Now, I hadn't simply stumbled upon that idea. It took a matter of years to really begin to find symbolism behind the numbers and formulas.

I truly loved the way that numbers worked and was fascinated by the way a few letters could eventually have a numeric existence. Every problem had a solution, and for some, there were countless solutions. Of course, some problems took time, but there was always an end. And once that end was found, well the challenge was over. Relief and excitement would wash over me as I would finalize my efforts and a sense of pride would build after I had accomplished such difficult feats.

What I'd learned as Hogwarts began though… Well, that completely destroyed math as a metaphor for life.

Life didn't have an equation, and I now know that through experience.

X doesn't always have a value in life, hell; sometimes X doesn't exist at all. In life, there's no definite variable. You're not guaranteed an answer; you're not even guaranteed a function to attempt the solution.

There's no way to see the final result beforehand. No one knows what life is equal to, and no one knows exactly how to solve it. It takes years, decades to find out what your particular life adds up to. It's unbearably frustrating

But, what seems to be the absolute worst part of life's undiscovered solution is most likely when the solution is right in front of you and you're powerless to its repercussions.

When that number is so messy and complicated to manipulate that you almost consider giving up, but persist until proven absolutely wrong? Well, that's my least favorite part.

I hadn't expected my latest solution to cause such an upset in my life. Normally, the situations I face are entirely predetermined. I haven't a say in the matter, and if I do, it's already been rehearsed to perfection. Lately, though, things have been far from perfect.

This equation started with incredibly simple variables. X plus Y equals Z. Z was of course what I wanted, X was myself, and Y was what was needed to acquire Z. I hadn't accounted for everything else that would completely mar the carefully calculated figures.

For example, the fact that I had hated Y and Y despised me did not help the cause in any particular way. Honestly, Y could have been anyone else. It could have been Neville or that freckled dimwit of a Weasley and that may have been monumentally easier. But, of course, a Malfoy can't resist a challenge. A Malfoy needs difficulty. He can't very well go by everyone else's standards, and he most certainly can't just fall in love with something simple, or someone for that matter.

But, of course, he can't love someone that's merely difficult. No, that still wouldn't be enough. He needs an impossible problem, something that overtakes his mind and body and captivates it to a point of obsession.

That someone for this Malfoy happened to be Harry James Potter.

Can I say that this particular Y value surprised me? Initially, yes. I had shut myself away for days, simply trying to figure out any other mathematical conclusion. When I'd exhausted myself to only one solution, I began to loathe my very existence. I hated Potter as well. It was his damn fault after all! It was his fault that he seemed to draw me away from focusing on anything other than him. It was his fault that I never thought of anyone other than him from the time I would wake until sleep finally overcame me.

And it was his fault that he couldn't love me back.

But, after reality settled, I wasn't nearly as bitter. I had recovered and went about life in a wonderful state of denial. I didn't need Potter, and my obsession with him wasn't love. It was normal for enemies to need to know each and every detail of the other. That was natural in every sense of the word.

So, I observed Potter like I would with any equation before I went about solving it. I watched as he went about life almost listlessly, losing some of that fire that always seemed to stain his eyes. Not that I had ever looked for Potter's eyes. And it wasn't as if I could find either his eyes or voice in a crowd of millions. No, that would be silly.

That did seem to bother me, though. I found myself blindly curious as to Potter's sudden character change. It was as if he wasn't aware of me anymore. We didn't bicker and he hardly ever seemed consciously available. Physically, he was there just as much as he had ever been, but he wasn't himself, and that again altered my equation.

I couldn't very well have that now could I?

I had decided one evening to locate the ever-peculiar Gryffindor as I had known, through observation, that he was one to wander after nightfall.

Of course I'd found him, simply stumbling around the grounds. I'd called out to him immediately and he didn't respond, lost in himself as per usual.

"Potter!" I tried again, more insistently. "Turn your bloody arse around and look at me!"

He paused, turning slowly, and looked directly at me. This was the first time we had made note of each other in weeks, and even his unresponsive gaze left me in a panic and my heart in a flutter.

"What do you need, Malfoy?" he asked robotically. His voice wasn't laced in malice or hatred. It was tired, and its effects did nothing to support my denial. "Can we make this quick? I'm exhausted."

"What's wrong with you?" I blurted, not realizing that I'd begun to scream at the boy a mere yard or two away.

"What do you mean? I haven't bothered with you for weeks. Why could you possibly have reason to ask me that?"

"That's what I mean! You don't even acknowledge me anymore. You saunter around this school as if I don't exist. What, Potter? Decided that I'm not worth the effort anymore?" I hissed, noticing my fists clenching.

"I'll apologize to your vanity, but you aren't the center of my troubles. And what do you mean 'not worth the effort anymore?' You never were, Malfoy."

My blood was boiling as I took a stride towards the Boy Who Lived, grabbing him unexpectedly by the shoulders and pushing him onto the ground beneath us. In his surprise and discomfort, I straddled him and pinned both of his hands above his head, ignoring his pathetic attempts at escape.

"Now listen here, Potter. I'm not another one of your pets at this school. You'll pay attention to me whether you'd like to or not. I'm worth every ounce of attention that I'm deserving of."

"You're not worth shit, Malfoy!" he screamed, spitting in my face. I rewarded him with a punch to the stomach and a consecutive set of hits to the face.

With Potter having his hands free, and a newly found determination, he easily toppled me over and began to strike me with a force I hadn't known possible. But, this is what I wanted. I wanted that anger directed at me, that incredible emotion and lack of control. I wanted Potter's animosity caused by me. I needed to create an intense reaction. Potter needed to understand that I could force him to succumb to the beast and power within him.

"Why do you care if I hate you?" Potter exhaled, finally exhausted from the trauma he had put my face through.

Because I am in freaking love with you, Potter, I wanted to scream. I wanted so badly to admit what had been physically ailing me for what seemed a lifetime. But, I kept quiet, and sat on my elbows. Only a moment slipped by before I had realized that this would be the only chance I had to act.

I pushed my chest flush against the Gryffindor's and only had a millisecond to register his gasp before I'd attached his lips to mine. Potter, no, Harry- tasted of metal and something unbearably sweet, something I could only describe as him. His hair was thick in my hands and smoother than it visually appeared. His body was unbearably hot against mine, and again, I prided myself on being able to get that much of a response from him. I loved the way our fighting would light something inside of Harry, something so intense and passionate that I could sometimes barely focus on my own thoughts.

Even now, it didn't matter that he was stone to my touch. It didn't matter that he hated me and that I was supposed to detest him as well. All that mattered was that here, in my hands, I held the absolute dearest thing in my world. In that moment, I understood my solution entirely. I also understood that without this Y, I could never get to Z. The equation would never be valid without Harry. He was not only the missing variable- he was the solution.

Only then did I realize how ridiculous a notion it was to deny myself the truth. I was in love with Harry Potter, and I most likely had been for years. Other than math, Harry had been the only constant within my life. He'd always served as my challenge. There were a number of ways to get to him. He'd made me feel accomplished when he acknowledged and reacted to me. He was so much like my favorite subject that it only made sense for me to love him just as much as my most difficult of equations.

But, in an instant, though, those thoughts receded far into the back of my mind. For in the second that my eyes opened and discovered reality, I had found Harry's eyes to be wide in terror and disgust. That hurt more than any physical bruise he left in his fist's wake.

He trembled quietly and pulled his hand to his mouth, I suppose trying to decipher if this kiss had actually taken place only a moment ago.

"I-I. W-why did y-you? Malf-foy, I don't understand…" he stuttered and stood, backing slowly away from me as I tried feebly to come up with something- anything to remedy the situation. "Y-you hate me. What are you doing?"

"Merlin, Potter, you can be so daft," I decided, standing myself. "Would someone that hated you try to snog you in the middle of a fist fight? Corner you in the hallways to make your life hell simply because it's all he can do to seek some kind of time with you? Miss your insults and hexes because it's the only contact you'll allow yourself to have with him?" I breathed, reigning in a Gryffindor's courage. "Potter, I'm in love with you," I whispered, but he heard it. Otherwise, I doubt he would have run as fast as he did.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I would have kept my mouth shut. Would my equation have changed then? Would I have been able to find a new Y and Z value?

I don't think it's possible.

In order for me to have any sort of shot at a fulfilling life, I need Harry.

But, Harry despises me, more now I would assume than ever. I love what I can't have. My equation is left unfinished and there are no replacement variables.

Harry isn't my favorite kind of a math problem. He doesn't have a million different solutions that end with him.

We're two completely different lines that never meet.

For once, there is no solution to my problem.

It doesn't exist.