DISCLAIMER: Hi!!! *Waves* Well, I wrote this when I was sick and in bed and I looked at my Harry Potter folder and was like…FANFICTION!!! In fact, I wrote quite a few that night… Anyway, my point is that they are not mine. The idea is. Not the characters.

AN: This is a POV of Draco about Harry. *Sigh* PLEASE REVIEW. I really want constructive criticism and reviews. I crave them…I'm addicted…

IT'S NOT WHAT WE DO

I often wonder what you would say if you found out I loved you. I believe that you would be disgusted. And then you would laugh at me. Not the happy laugh that I hear echoing around the halls though. A scornful laugh, a pitying laugh. And I don't want that. I never, ever want you to pity me. I refuse to be pitied. I'm a Malfoy. It's not what we do.

I love to watch you when you think that no one is looking. You get this look of sadness in your eyes. That should be my cue to tease you about your dead parents, or about Cedric. But inside, I wonder what you're truly thinking. I wonder if you feel as alone as I do, even when you're around your friends. That look, I love that look. Because it helps me to see that you're human. It helps me to see that there is a chance you have faults. I'd never let you catch me looking though. I'm a Malfoy. It's not what we do.

I dream about you sometimes. The dreams always start the same. All I see is green. The green of your eyes. Sometimes I wonder if your soul is that colour. It's so perfect, so you. Then you come to me in my dreams. Before I loved you, I never dreamt in colour. There were blacks and whites and greys. Then…then there was you. And my mind seemed to explode with the endless possibilities of colour. Sp many colours…it's only the dreams with you that have colour though. I love what you do to me in my dreams. But I'd never do to you what happens in my dreams. I'm a Malfoy. It's not what we do.

I cut myself sometimes. Just to prove to myself that I'm human too. I bleed and revel in the fact that my blood is red and hot. Not that you'd guess it to be through my pale skin. I cut on my forearms and on my stomach so that no one will see what I do to myself. And when I do, I think of you. I know that it's wrong, but I do. I wonder if you'd ever do this to yourself for me, but then I remember that you try to be perfect, so you wouldn't. But no one will ever find out what I do to myself. I'm a Malfoy. It's not what we do.

Sometimes I write things. I write letters and poetry. I write words, over and over again that mean something only to me. A lot of the things that I write, I write to you. I speak of love and hate and lust and ecstasy. I speak of pain and loss and life and laughter. So many things. Many of them seem so far away. So hopeless. I burn everything though. Imagine if they were found. I'd be disowned, dishonoured, and I would lose my pride. But I'll never let anyone find out that I write you love poems. I'm a Malfoy. It's not what we do.

I used to have conversations with you in my mind. I knew that I was making them up. I'm not crazy. I used to have in depth conversations where you would let me be myself. Let me tell you things…let me whisper things…let me be what I always wanted to be. I'd pretend that you'd taken my hand in first year and that we'd become friends. Become lovers. But I'd never have a conversation with you in real life. Not like these ones. I'm a Malfoy. It's not what we do.

I often think about killing myself. I want to ask for help from somebody, but who? I have closed off every part of myself to other people. No one knows who I am. I wan to kill myself because I hate who I am, who I have become. And I hate that I can't have you. I often think about what would happen if I killed myself. I expect my father would be quite angry. And for once, I'd be able to not care. It's painful to know that I have no one who will ever help me. Maybe you would though wonder boy, but it will be out of pity, and we can't have that. Maybe it would be a chain reaction. You'd help me, pity me, talk to me, love me, help me and do all of the things I dream about. You can't though. I'm a Malfoy.

I often want to kill myself. But I won't. Because I'm a Malfoy. It's not what we do.

~fin~

WELL, I got attacked by a sad muse…I was sad though, so that explains everything.*stupid being sick…* I know that it was kind of crappy but I would really appreciate it if you would review and just say what you thought. IF YOU DON'T THE EVIL MONKEYS of DOOM will stalk you…BWA HA HA HA HA…ANYWAY, review and please read my other work.

Thankyou!

Goat Woman!