Worth it

"You don't deserve him!"

I believe that is the most common phrase shouted, screamed and whispered at me by every single person Harry Potter has touched. They all act as though I have no idea.

His love for me is complicated and difficult to comprehend. He would do anything for me, he lies out and allows me my freedom while remaining completely devoted to our false relationship.

I do not know how he can handle the images of me with another person if he loves me so much but he does.

When I arrive home at our shared flat, smelling strongly of sex and alcohol he ushers me into the shower an uneasy smile straining his features.

Those are the moments the guilt is the hardest to deal with. The way he affectionately cares for me as I fumble about intoxicated knowing half an hour earlier I spent myself into someone else.

For days he won't let me make love to him which drives my hormones crazy and encourages me to commit another act of adultery. But I try and resist out of curtsey.

I am not deluded enough to think any of my small considerations at all lessens the impact of my actions. I am well aware I am storing trouble for myself by continuing in my promiscuity but the appeal of another's body is simply too strong.

Lust is an impossible force for me. I cannot control my urges and I do not try. I do not even put the effort in not to break his heart and although the remorse is unbelievable it is not a deterrent.

Severus tells me I should accept his love, commit myself to him and stop pretending I don't love him.

Another source of guilt.

The way he looks at Harry, his black eyes so full of warmth and longing.

Harry deserves someone to love and worship him like I know Severus would and not someone who only ever thinks about himself and does not even love him…

He tells me I cannot possibly not love Harry when I do not understand love, another unwanted gift from my upbringing.

According to Severus because my parents never showed me love I cannot show love to another. At least not by saying it.

I am not convinced.

We have an agreement, Harry and I.

If either of us fell in love with someone else our farce is over.

He added if I ever fall in love with him we could end this act.

I told him I wish I could love him and he cried.

Looking at his dull, forest green eyes filled with tears churns my insides especially when I know it's my insane craving for flesh that has caused it.

But guilt is not my master. I continued to obey to my hunger for rushed sexual encounters. Behind his back or in front of his face I would satisfy my uncontrollable desires.

Slowly I began to lessen my intake. My lust filled encounters still too frequent to call anything between Harry and I commitment but I would turn to him to sate myself more and more often.

I made hints at my change in attitude but Harry seemed unaware, his paranoia burgeoning to the point where he tried to accuse me of having sex with Severus. I was outraged, the mere thought making me ill as he was the closest thing to a father I knew I would ever have. But Harry mistook my shock for guilt and stopped allowing Severus into our home.

Of course I was furious and explained to him he had agreed to allow me to do this, he had practically given me permission but I abandoned the subject the moment I saw the anguish in his emerald eyes.

I regretted my easy surrender later.

It was a Saturday night and Harry had gone out with Granger and a few other friends. I was not really bothered, this was the usual occurrence.

Normally I would go out with my friends but I had been working long hours and was much too tired.

So I stayed at home, reading and listening to music.

He stormed in at about twelve, Granger right behind him.

"Draco you cheating arsehole!" he shouted into the flat.

I sighed and walked to greet him at the door. He could barely manage to stand but his voice held no signs of wavering as he continued.

"I hate you! You treat me like a doormat. Like your bitch! I am not your bitch Draco Malfoy!"

"What are you even talking about Harry?" I said, trying to remain as calm as possible.

"I love you and you fuck me about all the time. Getting it wherever you can! I am not good enough for you or something?"

"I am the wrong person to approach about your confidence Harry," I drawled back, my sarcastic tone hard to avoid.

"Can't you just fucking talk to me about this! Why am I not what you want Draco!"

"We will discuss this when you are sober…"

"No! Because all you will do it wrap me around your manicured finger as always and I will bend over for you! Let you get what the fuck you want!" he said, his voice became strained through the tears.

I moved to hold him as my instincts commanded only for him to push me away feebly.

"Don't touch me…" he whispered.

"I'm going, I guess I can trust you to get him to bed Malfoy," said Granger finally, forcing me to acknowledge her unnecessary presence.

"Bye," I responded hastily, my focus on Harry.

Once she had left, Harry shuffled to the kitchen and went to open a bottle of wine.

"Don't. That's good stuff. I want to keep it for when you can enjoy it," I said.

"Can't I drink my own alcohol in my own house."

"It's mine Potter."

"You have me, why can't I have one fucking bottle of wine to make up for the fact that I am not allowed to have you!"

"You have me Harry all the time…"

"I get your cock. I don't want your fucking cock…"

"Well say no more often."

He opened the bottle, ignoring my instructions and I decided to let him. I could buy more. I realised as he gulped it straight from the bottle more alcohol could not possibly be good but I allowed it in the hope it would cause him to become drowsy.

"I can't say no to you…" he mumbled, sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor.

I could not reply but simply stare at him.

He was beautiful.

His hair was even more erratic than normal and I knew he had been running his hands through it as he would do if nervous. Although not as bright as normal, his eyes held their mysterious glow and warmth igniting my insides as I tried to hold his gaze.

"Look at me Harry," I said

"No."

"Why not?"

"You're trying to get me to do what you want."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, taking his jaw in my hand and forcing him to look at my face but his pupils darted about wildly.

"You'll do it again."

"I'm sorry for hurting you."

"But you keep doing it…"

"I know."

He stood up shakily, his legs unable to support him as he swayed and stumbled as he tried to make it to the bedroom. I watched him suddenly unable to move. He tripped over a pile of his own books, stacked against the wall in his inept attempts to be tidy.

He swore and pushed himself back up while I continued to watch him.

That night I slept in the spare room, the lack of warmth beside me haunting me as sleep refused to take hold of me. His drunken and lost face dancing before my eyes every time I closed them over, his dishevelled appearance and lack of control making the guilt rush through me as I was forced to consider the real depth of the pain I had caused him.

I knew I hurt him with my actions but I never let myself consider the extent because I did not want anything to interrupt my selfish pleasure seeking.

But being confronted with the reality of my actions suffocated me as I was smothered by the consequences. I had broken him. Pushed him further than anything. Harry was a Griffyndor and pointless exclamations whenever a strong emotion took hold of him were frequent but never like this.

Normally afterwards he would laugh, embarrassed by his rashness. This time he would be grateful for the chance to release the tension but frustrated that he was still here. That my grip on him was stronger than his Griffyndor instincts.

He hated that no matter what I did and what everyone said he would still love him.

Harry has a hero complex and he saved me from death, I saved him from his own loneliness.

Unfortunately Potter was much too innocent to understand the concept of sex without love and I was too full of gratitude to stop him declaring his love for me.

So here we were, stuck in an unbalanced relationship where I could not leave because I was far too selfish and he couldn't because he deluded himself I would change.

I hated the thought I was turning into my parents. I stayed for my benefit. I will not lie and say it was for him. If it was for him I would leave, let him move on and find someone who could adore him.

But I need him.

I need to feel his love and be part of something better than myself. I need his stupid mannerisms, I need the way he takes care of me when I am ill, the way he never questions my actions and would support me in any decision.

Throughout my childhood I had no experience of love and now I have I cannot sacrifice it for anything, not even Harry's well being. I will feed off him and devour him until he has nothing left to give.

That morning when I walked into the kitchen he was sitting at the table, a mug of coffee clasped in his hands. He was fully dressed and his dripping hair left a wet patch on the back of his white t-shirt but he seemed completely unaware.

"Morning," he offered when he saw me.

"Good morning. How you feeling?"

"Terrible."

"Can you remember anything of last night?"

"I'm not sorry," he said quickly.

"I didn't expect you to be."

"I still love you though," he said more to himself than to me.

"I wish you wouldn't."

"No you don't."

"I know…"

I sat across from him and he looked straight into my eyes. His mouth upturned slightly into a smile but there was no emotion behind it and his eyes read hurt.

"Can you stop?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you were right. If I am going to keep you selfishly I am going to make this easier for you."

"I hate that we have a business agreement."

"I hate that I can't love you."

"No you don't."

"I do."

I could read on his face he did not believe me but I decided not to fight it. Instead of took him in my arms, the smell of his shampoo clouding my nostrils as I searched for his scent.

He enveloped himself into me, his breathing harsh.

"I missed you last night," he whispered into my ear.

"Not as much as I missed you," I responded.

He snorted in disbelief but once again I ignored him, opting instead to capture his lips with mine. He tangled his hands into my hair as always, his whole body singing need as we kissed passionately. My hands finding their way to the bottom of his t-shirt, breaking our kiss so I could lift it over his head exposing his golden skin.

Then he moaned into my ear, his voice shaking and I snapped.

I picked him up and carried him to our bedroom, throwing him on the bed as I covered him with my body. My lips furiously attacking every inch of skin I could find as he panted into the room, his mouth forming beautiful and incomprehensible words as I worshipped his heavenly skin.

"I want you so badly Dray…"

I growled as he passed me the small jar we always kept beside the bed.

I smiled slightly at his flushed face as his teeth dug themselves deeply into his bottom lip. His eyes were glazed over with lust and need as his body appeared to tremble as my middle finger slid easily into him.

He groaned once and then smothered the noises with his hand. I hated his embarrassment but nothing could deter me in my goal right now.

Once he was thoroughly prepared I pushed into him, his glorious heat engulfing me. He felt like no one else I thought as I thrust into him, delighting in his few sounds the escaped his covered mouth.

When I knew he was close enough to be completely mouldable, I pulled his hand away from his mouth and took it in mine, holding tightly to anchor myself and prevent him for hiding anything from me.

His face was a picture of bliss as he came, his hand squeezing mine as he road his orgasm out.

He smiled up at me, his eyes knowledgeable as I spent myself into him, falling onto him when it became impossible for me to support myself.

Leaning over he cast a quick cleaning charm over us and then pressed lazy kisses to my back. I sighed, relishing the sense of belonging as he touched my skin.

I never told him but I only ever allowed him to kiss me or touch me affectionately. The other people were a release but with Harry it meant something.

And although I am a cruel bastard and what I do to Harry is disgusting, the guilt isn't always that strong.

As in those moments, while his warmth and love radiates over me as we lie together in bed I know I love him more than anyone else. Even if it's just for an hour, I know in those sweet moments no one will ever love him like I can.

So our relationship is a lie and I will never keep my promises and for the rest of my life I will be constricted by guilt and he will be trapped with someone who will never love him it almost seems worth it for those beautiful hours…

Hoep you enjoyed it.

Reviews would be lovely and much appreciated =]