I started this fic while i was royally pissed off at an ex, listening to angry music at 2am on my porch just peeved at his stupidity. The next few days the anger subsided and the story started making less sense to me, as i am generally not an angry person, but i did my best to edit it and i hope you like it. Please let me know if i should continue or not. I already know where the actually plot leads, but getting there is the hard part lol. Comments appreciated.
I glared angrily at the morning issue of the Daily Prophet and slammed my cup of tea down onto the table, nearly shattering it in the process.
"Draco! Do be careful! I'm really beginning to tire of your morning hissy fits. What is it this time?"
"Mother I do not have hissy fits. I'm merely expressing my displeasure in a way that makes me feel better. And to answer your question, Potter and his Weaslette are celebrating their three year anniversary. Its hardly front page news but here it is." I motioned towards the paper with a wave of my hand.
"Son, I know you have your own ways of dealing with your broken heart, but please take it out on items less valuable than my mothers tea set." I threw my head back against the chair and scowled at the ceiling.
I don't know why I continue to read that trash. Most days there's an article on Potter and his many accomplishments or just a small box about remembering Potter for slaying he who must not be named on the front of every paper. It does more than just upset me. It infuriates me to my very core. Potter was supposed to be mine.
Granted, it was over three years ago. And sure, it was only a few nights together.
But those nights I cherished, I swooned, I fell madly, insanely in love with a man who I thought loved me back.
Potter was my enemy. My sworn Merlin forsaken rival, and we had come to blows more than a handful of times. We've beaten and broken one another. I saw his blood in my dreams splattering on the floor before me. A little over dramatic, yes, its not like I had wanted to kill the boy. But the feelings I felt when he was around confused and angered me and the only way I knew to ease the pain was to pound the living daylights out of him.
My feelings have always confused me. My father made sure of that. I needed to feel nothing but pride for my kind and hatred for those impure. These feelings were new to me, a mystery, and as it was, very startling. I was afraid. Embarrassed. What could my heart possibly be screaming to my brain that I just wasn't getting?
One day it hit me like a ton of bricks when one of our ritual fist fights turned into more of Potter holding me down by my wrists.
"Potter! Get off and let me pound you into the ground!" He had just stared at me in silence for what seemed like forever before shaking his head.
"I can't do it anymore Draco."
"What do you mean you can't do it?! Let me up!" My protests were cut short by his lips. Potter, or Harry, as I grew to call him, gently kissed me, waiting for my response. It did take me a moment to catch up to where our fight had gone. And a moment longer to register the kiss from the boy I thought I had grown to hate. But I found myself quickly melting into his arms, the strange sensations that made me want to break his face simply vanished. As I kissed him back, pieces began falling into place, and I realized that this was a much more effective and pleasurable way to fill the void in my heart, which always said that something was missing. He melted my icy heart and from that day forward I was happiest in his arms.
The sneaking around wasn't pleasant but the reward at the end was worth it. We talked, laughed and held each other for hours. The summer when we graduated from our 8th year, we had been sneaking around for about a month. Then finally, once we were free, he invited me to his home and we made love. It was, for lack of a more appropriate word, magical. We became closer than ever and I loved him for it.
Until the one day, another month or so later, that everything changed. Potter appeared on my doorstep and explained that he was to marry that weaslette, and that it was fun while it lasted. He proceeded to explain I was nothing more than a toy to him, and that now I was all used up, he didn't need me anymore. He ended with a glance over his shoulder and a sly remark about not contacting him ever again.
It was so simple. Over in a manner of minutes. He had taken my trust, my loyalty, my love, and threw it in my face. I hated him.
I still hate him for this.
But yet..I long for his touch.
Nothings been the same since. I tried to busy myself with my potions work. Even arranged a marriage thru my parents to Astoria Greengrass. But that didn't work out. I haven't been able to erase him from my thoughts. I still think about him daily.
The bloody Prophet helps with that. I should clearly cancel my subscription. However, I know I won't. It does give me a chance to see him, how much he's grow. And changed over the years. Unfortunately most pictures are tainted with that weaslette he married, she's always draping her arms around him, bathing in the spotlight.
I glanced down at the paper once more, watching the constant gleam on her face as she waved at the cameras, enjoying the fame of being married to the savior. It really did make me sick to my stomach. That was supposed to be me, still to do this day, i don't understand what happened between he and I. Harry never struck me as the type of person to 'play' with peoples emotions. He was usually very blunt, and i would've put everything on the line to be with him. In fact, i was about to tell my parents about us. I could have quite easily lost all my inheritance because of it, but it hadn't mattered to me.
So what snapped in his head about us? I had changed, we had both grown up. I did everything i could to make him happy.
The frustration was driving me mad. I had so many questions for him. Yes, I still loved him, and as far as i know, he had loved me at the time. I needed to know why he did this. Why he chose to break my heart while it was still so fragile. Why he chose her over me.
I wanted, many times, to send him an owl, or rather, a howler, expressing my anger for what he had done, and demand answers. I decided against each time, knowing i was better than that, that i shouldn't be chasing after someone who didn't think i was good enough for them. If thats what he thinks then he is terribly mistaken. I'm a much better candidate than that Weaslette, and even his rejection wouldn't sway me otherwise.
Just get over him, i would tell myself. Leave it be, find happiness elsewhere.
Why wont my heart listen to my brain?
Why must i suffer so?
Plastered right in front of my face everyday is the boy-who-i-loved, who rejected my hand many years ago, saved my life, gave me such happiness and love for a mere two months, and then took it all away. For her.
This party was to symbolize their love, their success and to rub it in my face. I know it is.
Draco Malfoy is no fool. I will not be shamed by that bloody man, and his perfect little wench.
I'm not sure what i'm going to do yet, but i will be making that night unenjoyable for Harry-bloody-Potter.