Whee! Yes. This would be another one of my strange slash fics. Draco/Harry, ONESIDED and I say 'Nuuwomp!' if you no likey. Please flee now. Slightly sad, it just came into my head, contains a still evil, sarcastic and quite strange Draco, and an even stranger, unresisting, but unloving Harry. The lyrics come from Mad World by Tears for Fears, from Donnie Darko! YAY! Go watch Donnie Darko. It rocks.
Also a references to Monty Python and the Holy Grail (go watch that too!), and Tenacious D's Wonderboy.
This is a slight filler for something for me to write until I can think for the next part to Behind the Looking Glass, which I've currently got a rough idea for.
I've been listening to Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody way too much. It can't be good for me.
I did a kissing scene! Ooh…it's bad. Close your eyes and scroll down that part.
Because life never words out how you want it to.
Stranger's Candy
("And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad, the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had…")
Draco Malfoy had noticed, after a long stretch of time, and many hours of pondering this, that he felt incomplete.
Now, it wasn't a big, gaping hole, it was just a little bug in the system, a little nick in the paint. A slight imperfection (though he admits to none). Barely noticeable, really. Overall, it rarely affected him.
Draco Malfoy also knows that you don't just 'fall in love' that's for the losers who still believe in real, gasp, dramatic moment, true love.
Draco Malfoy says screw true love.
Every little crush or want, mark his words, starts out as a slight lust attack, or a slight admittance to the fact that the person in question is 'slightly fit'. It just doesn't hit you like some kind of sudden revelation, you don't suddenly get lovesick. It takes time, it has to root itself deep into your mind, and slowly worm its away into your sub-consciousness, making you notice the little things. Like what foot he-I mean, the person in question uses to start walking with (left, actually). If the person in question ties his bows in double knots (sometimes, if the a single knot is too loose). If he always scrunches up his nose when he's disgusted (always, mark his words).
That's until you hit the full blown, think about the person everyday kind of thing. Draco's never gotten to that stage. You know, stalk them around with dreamy eyes and a goofy face. Malfoys don't pull goofy faces. It's just not right.
No, there's no such thing as love at first sight. That, my friend, is a load of bullshit. Everything starts with lust, and it will end in lust. Or maybe anger, wrath or agony, but that all depends on the situation.
Yes. Lust, Draco finds, is a very confusing, strange, and yet blissful, mind blowing and somehow safe feeling.
It's a feeling that you feel when you know you can't have something, it's too farfetched, too out of reach for you to even try to dream about. Yet you crave it like a drug, it sends a chill down your body when you both, by chance, collide.
Draco Malfoy, however, always gets what he wants. No questions asked. Are you questioning him? Good. He thought not.
-
"Yes. Before the year starts, I would like to say three very influential words. "Ni, ping, and nuuwomp. Thank you."
Yes. Snape was right. Dumbledore is insane. Oh well. His eyes immediately lock with Potter's, and Draco smiles. This catches Potter totally off guard, as he looks to the side to see if anyone else saw what he thought he saw.
When Harry looks back, Draco's smirking.
-
"Potter, a word. Or five." Comes a rather demanding voice, and Harry doesn't even bother to turn his head. It's just not worth it. They'll end up fighting, as always.
"Potter, I swear, if you're ignoring me-" Ooh, now we're threatening, are we? That's mature. So Harry inserts himself into the 'conversation'. More like Malfoy's-on-the-verge-of-a-rant.
"-Don't worry, Malfoy, I heard you. Yes Ron, I am sane, and no, I don't have a death wish. Hermione, don't look at me like that." Comes the automatic response. This has happened too many times for the Savior of all wizard kind to really care anymore.
He rises slowly from the lunch table, his robes sliding along the wood. Draco watches on with two raised eyebrows, and rolls his sea gray eyes.
Both glide out of the Great Hall, and stop outside the stairs that lead down the dungeons. Draco looks around (with very shifty eyes, Harry might add), and then beckons hastily. Harry, however, smiles slowly, and takes his time on the loosely paved stairs, until Draco huffs in aggravation and yanks him down the stairs by the wrist.
"Fine, Malfoy. What the hell do you want?" Well, this one doesn't beat around the bush.
"Well, I would of brought you here if it wasn't important. Potter, define lust for me, please."
Harry smiles mischievously, as his photographic memory scans through the pages of the Dursley's old dictionary. Hey, it gets really boring in a Cupboard Under the Stairs.
"Lust. Luh-st. Noun. Meaning One: An overwhelming desire or craving, eg a desire for power.
Meaning Two: Obsolete, pleasure, relish," Draco bites his lip, and Harry licks his lips to finish, knowing very well that Draco is watching his tongue. He's saved the best for last.
"Ah…yes. Meaning Three: An intense or unrestrained…hmm…what was it? Oh, yes. Sexual craving."
The rather lengthy reply has slowly caused Draco to make his palms ache from digging in his nails for quite a long time, and his ears are now a rather interesting shade of pink.
"There you go, Malfoy. But what in hell does that have to do with me?" He smirks, and Draco steps closer, until he's intruded Harry's personal space, an area that sets off a warning in his mind. Too close, too close…
His jeweled eyes widen, and his mouth his slightly open, his breath is quickening.
"Malfoy, what in hell are you trying to get at…" His voice wanders somewhere as the slightly shorter Malfoy is very, very, close to his face and whole body in general. It's not very comfortable. He tries to get away, backing up, but only to end up backed against a wall, Malfoy's defenseless prey.
"Oh my God…" Comes the breathless murmur, as Harry slowly comes to terms with what Draco's doing. Draco smiles coyly, and takes another step, he's right against him,
"What am I getting at? You, of course. I'm a Malfoy, I always get what I want, when I want it."
Both are staring at each other straight in the eyes, as emerald clashes with clouded silver.
Harry keeps on staring, he's never noticed how strange Draco's eyes are. When something sparks inside of them, he closes his eyes, ready for a punch to crack his jaw. He doesn't expect Malfoy to do what he thought he might do.
When something hot and humid flutters against lips, his eyes shoot open in shock, only to see what he saw before, two glinting ocean eyes.
"Malfoy…w-wha…what did you just do?" Comes a very uneasy response. Harry already knows the answer, as his cheeks flush.
Draco grins, and presses his lips against Harry, and talks to his mouth.
"You know very well."
Harry's suddenly lost in the moment, but time still passes around him, and he suddenly realizes how feverishly the boy is kissing him, how desperate he is.
He's never seen Malfoy like this.
Harry never moves, never complains, and lets Draco keep on wanting him.
The thing that crushes Draco is that he's not kissing him back. That's worse than Harry just shoving him away, or punching him. He's just standing there, his eyes closed, and his hands in fists, with no reaction. This is some kind of twisted torture.
No, it's perfect torture.
A small rip in his heart, nothing tearing, nothing being torn apart. Just a small rip, that makes him stop and catch his breath.
'You just don't understand, do you?'
His mind begs Harry Potter. His lips taste sweet, like bubblegum. Innocence, just on his lips.'I would kill to know if the rest of you tastes so untarnished.'
While Harry thinks that Draco tastes like lemons with hot water and a pinch of sugar.
When Draco suddenly stops, stares at Potter and just walks back up to the Great Hall, he leaves a silent Harry to contemplate what he feels, why he did it, and what happens next.
'I'll never let you know what you do to me, Potter.'
He sighs, takes off his glasses, and rubs his eyes. His lips are still tingling, but no electricity is coursing through his body, no thrill in his mind.
He'll never crave for the taste, he'll never run his fingers over and down his lips in the middle of the night, when no one else can watch him, judge him. When no one will question what he's doing.
-
(…"I find it hard to tell you, 'cause I find it hard to take…")
Draco chews bubblegum in class now, bright pink that clashes with his pale skin. While he remains in Hogwarts, he watches with delight as Harry shudders every time he blows a bubble, or how he closes his eyes when it pops.
Harry's only method of revenge is to roll out Malfoy's name on his tongue, slow and precise, and if he hits just the right spot, the boy's eyes flash, and he freezes for a split second.
His stormy eyes glaze over, he stops breathing, and an expression passes his face that isn't readable. His life stops for the shortest moment, and he watches that undying emerald with unimaginable need.
Two hands grab his heart and continue the tear, inching down his soul. They'll wait until he's got nothing left. When Harry Potter is no longer part of his daily lifestyle. Until then, they'll keep on toying with his emotions. He'll break down, eventually. He'll snap.
Then again, everyone does.
Then it all goes back to normal, and he spits out some snide remark off the top of his head, or starts to hum Wonderboy. He blows a bubble right in front of the boy's confused eyes, spins on his heel, and stalks off.
The Universe didn't collapse when Harry Potter denied Draco Malfoy. The sun didn't implode, and Draco didn't fall apart into a depressed, dead remains of a man. That's just too predictable.
Though, one could argue he felt slightly empty afterwards. As if he was missing a piece in the puzzle of his life. A piece near the middle of the image that should connect everything together, that would show you fully how his life worked, how it revolved around so many different and strange things.
Harry never feels guilty for his actions, or rather, lack therefore of. One kiss, that was all. Though it wasn't his first, and wasn't his last. It only holds particular value because it was Draco Malfoy, and because it was his first from a boy, but it was also his last. It was just another part of his life that came unexpectedly, and although was mostly forgotten, sometimes came back as something to think about when there was nothing else left.
Yes. Just a bug in the system, a nick in the paint. Nothing that would haunt him for the rest of his days, or make him question his choices or actions. His life wasn't meant to work that way.
("…When people run in circles it's a very, very, mad world…")
Liar.
-Finite Incantatem-