Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: M
Warnings: Angst
Disclaimer: Harry and Draco belong to J.K. Rowling.
Harry sits in silence under his invisibility cloak at one of the desks in the middle of the room. He is exhausted and longs for his soft sheets and plush pillows. But he knows he will have to wait.
The old abandoned classroom is dusty and through the soft, eerie, bluish light filtering in from the fractured windows he can see dust swirling in the air as a draft of wind blows through one of the cracks. The rickety old desks and chairs are partially covered in blankets of grime but it is clear that the dust had been recently disturbed. Dust-less spots trail the ground and mark the desks, showing that the once unused room once again has a purpose.
A slight noise comes from outside the closed door causing Harry to stir under his cloak. A moment later the door slowly creaks open and a band of warm, yellowish light is thrown across the ground and streaks the wall opposite the door. The light is obscured as someone enters the room.
Malfoy.
The door clicks shut and Harry watches as Malfoy mutters a charm that locks the door. Malfoy slowly turns to face the empty room. His face is covered with a shadow but the wand he holds in his hand is clearly visible from the bluish light, as well as his Slytherin tie and parts of his robes.
Malfoy slowly walks around a few of the dusty desks dragging a few slender fingers over the dusty tops leaving a trail of clean spots. He walks down four rows and across three, stopping right in front of the desk Harry is sitting at. He adopts a small smirk and stares right at the empty spot that contains an invisible Harry.
Incredulous, Harry slowly sheds the invisibility cloak and watches as Malfoy's smirk turns into a look of pure smugness.
"How do you do that? It's really creepy," Harry mutters, still amazed. "You're never wrong, either."
Malfoy frowns and snarls at Harry. "Shut up Potter. Fuck. You should know the rules by now."
Harry protests with a noise of indignation, but doesn't say another word.
Malfoy shoots Harry a look of pure disgust and levels his wand. Harry slides off the desk and stands beside it, waiting for Malfoy to do what he always does. He hears Malfoy mutter a few words and immediately the drapes fall shut, concealing the windows and smothering the bluish-white light.
The room is plunged into thick darkness.
"No, I don't care. No talking. No noise. No light."
"No noise and no talking, I get. But no light?"
"Scared, Potter?"
"No?"
"Then shut the fuck up."
Harry feels Malfoy brush his hand against the side of his cheek.
Harry shivers and as Malfoy steps closer to him, Harry can hear Malfoy's slow, steady breaths and can feel Malfoy's warm breath on his cheek. He closes his eyes against the darkness.
He feels Malfoy's hand trail down from the side of his cheek and settle on his shoulder. He feels Malfoy firmly push him backwards so that he hits the desk and is forced to sit upon the edge. Malfoy's hand leaves his shoulder and the contact is gone before Harry feels a familiar tug as his tie is being pulled off.
He hears the tie flutter towards the ground and a sudden absence of warmth indicates that Malfoy has stepped away from Harry.
Harry opens his eyes to the darkness.
He can't see it but he knows that Malfoy is staring into the darkness where he sits. He feels Malfoy's eyes boring into his, but he can't see them to be sure.
Harry involuntarily shivers again.
The feeling of Malfoy knowing exactly where he is, even in the dark, even when he is invisible, is creepy but intoxicating at the same time.
Harry closes his eyes again and hesitantly stretches his arm out. His fingers touch the collar of Malfoy's shirt and he can feel Malfoy's breath hitch upon the slight contact. Harry drifts his hand across to lightly grasp Malfoy's tie. A small smile flitters across Harry's face in the darkness as he gently tugs Malfoy towards him. Edging back on the desk, he pulls Malfoy closer to him.
He feels Malfoy shift in the darkness and parts his legs when Malfoy comes to rest a knee on the desk.
Blindly leaning forward, Harry trails his hand up from Malfoy's tie and briefly rests it on the side of Malfoy's face. With a trembling hand, Harry tilts Malfoy's face towards his own and slowly closes the distance between their lips.
The very moment their lips make contact Harry promptly forgets everything. He forgets that the world outside of the dusty classroom exists because the only thing that matters at that very moment is Draco.
He makes Harry forget that he is sitting upon an old rickety desk in a dusty, abandoned room.
He makes Harry forget the rules.
Draco's lips break contact with Harry's and start trailing flutters of kisses down Harry's neck. Harry's own lips part on their own accord and breathlessly, almost inaudibly utter, "Draco …"
Rule number one, no talking.
Harry feels Draco shift closer towards him and his breathing becomes shallow as he feels Draco's breath ghost over his moist lips.
Harry closes his eyes as Draco shifts again. He feels Draco place his hands on either side of his body, and he feels him decreasing the distance between their two bodies.
Harry moans into Draco's mouth as Draco takes the opportunity to slide his tongue across Harry's hesitant lips.
Rule number two, no noise.
Draco breaks contact again, taking a moment with a steady hand to pull Harry's glasses off and carelessly toss them aside. Harry hears a distinct crack as they hit the ground.
Harry feels himself melt into the darkness as Draco's insistent fingers and caressing tongue envelopes him, flooding his mind with lust and intoxicating his senses.
Rule number three, No light.
Bluish-white light is filtering in through the cracked and dusty windows again.
Harry picks up his tie and loosely ties it around his neck. He watches as a blurry Malfoy does up the last few buttons on his shirt before stooping to pick up Harry's broken glasses.
Malfoy taps his wand against the cracked lenses to repair them, and then drops them onto Harry's outstretched hand.
Harry puts his glasses back on and lifts his head to see Malfoy looking at him.
In that instant, their eyes meet.
Green on grey, grey on green.
Harry freezes as his clear green eyes lock with Malfoy's darkened grey ones. And in that moment, Harry feels something. He feels the emotion concealed behind Malfoy's darkened eyes. He can see the wavering emotion behind them, weakening and breaking. The dam of emotion breaks through.
He sees the unspoken words in the emotion. He can feel it, hear it speak its silent words.
I could love you.
And I could let myself fall into the depths of your green, green eyes.
But I can't.
And I know that if I ever looked into your eyes as you utter my name into darkness,
I wouldn't be able to let you go.
Because you make me feel as though
you need me.
As though you could
take away the pain from everything.
As though
I could be yours, and that you would want to be mine.
As though we could be together,
forever.
But then I remember.
I remember, that nothing's forever.
And that is why I choose to stumble blindly in the dark, searching for you.
Searching for those green eyes that I'll never see in the black.
And I wonder why I can always seem to find you,
regardless of the dark,
regardless of your cloak,
regardless of the black void.
It doesn't matter though.
Because nothing's forever … right?
And then the fleeting moment passes. And Harry isn't sure if he saw anything at all in Malfoy's grey eyes.
Malfoy slowly turns to leave, breaking the spell, unlocking the door as he goes.
The door creaks open and a band of warm yellowish light throws itself across the ground and streaks the wall opposite the door. The light is obscured as Malfoy leaves the room.
The door clicks shut, and Harry is left, once again standing alone in the dark room.
Draco sits on top of the grimy desk and watches the dust swirl in the bluish light filtering from the fractured windows. He listens to the silence and waits for Potter. He never waits for Potter, but today is different.
The door creaks open, interrupting the silence, and Potter enters the room. He doesn't have his Invisibility Cloak with him, so Draco can clearly see his rumpled black hair and glimmering green eyes. Draco drops his head and stares intently at his shoes.
"Malfoy," Potter sounds surprised.
"You're never here before I am, what – why…" Potter trails off.
Draco remains silent and listens to Potter's footsteps as he crosses the room and stands in front of the desk he is perched on.
"Is – is there something I should know?" Potter asks in a hesitant voice.
Draco feels Potter's eyes boring into him, and he knows he won't be able to say what he has to if he looks up into Potter's sickly Avada-Kedavra green coloured eyes.
"This thing we have between us," Draco pauses, "it's over. I don't want to do this anymore."
Draco looks up at Potter and watched as he opens and closes his mouth, apparently struggling to say something but comes off looking like a fish gulping for water. After a strained moment, Potter finally speaks.
"I don't – I don't understand."
Draco sneers, "What don't you understand, Potter? I don't want to do this anymore. I've had it with you."
Draco slides off the desk and walks across the room, stopping in front of the cracked window. He looks out onto the grounds of Hogwarts and hears Potter mumbling behind him in confusion.
"You can forget about the rules, and forget about any of this ever happening." Draco says in an offhand unaffected tone.
"You're – you're not serious." Potter says in a quiet confused voice.
"Fucking believe it, Potter," Draco sneers.
"Draco, I –" Sounds of Potter's footsteps are coming closer towards Draco.
"Don't. Don't even."
"W-what?" Potter stops behind him, and Draco can see Potter's distorted reflection on the fractured window. Potter's frowning at him, and it seems as though he is about to reach out to touch him.
"Don't call me Draco. Don't use that tone on me. Don't say it. Don't even think it."
"Okay, I won't… I won't say it."
Draco walks away from the window, away from Potter, and towards the door.
He stops just at the door, and says in an icy tone, "I don't want to see you anymore. So leave me the fuck alone."
Draco wrenches the door open and stalks out into the brightly-lit corridor. He closes his eyes for a moment and starts to slowly walk towards the dungeons, feeling wary.
A minute later, he hears footsteps running down the corridor towards him and then Potter suddenly appears beside him. Potter clutches at Draco's robes, wheezing, and tries to catch his breath. The words Potter splutters out are incoherent and broken.
"I – you – need – can't –"
Draco's eyes flare and he narrows them at Potter.
"Fucking leave me alone."
I wish I didn't know you.
Because I never
understood
how
alone
I was,
before I met you.
And I never felt alone, until I met you.
Potter sits beside Granger and the Weasel at breakfast; eating toast and listening to the two. He looks lost and empty, but tries to unsuccessfully hide it behind strained smiles.
Draco sits in silence with the other Slytherins.
He wonders how Potter can look or feel so empty; because he knows that somehow Potter has taken a piece of him that he will never get back.
I need you.
Potter will never know though.
Harry stares at Malfoy across the dungeons. His potion bubbles and froths in front of him, and he's vaguely aware that his stilled hand is supposed to be moving in a motion called stirring, but he doesn't care.
Malfoy apparently doesn't care about his potion, either.
His hands are not moving in a stir-like motion, nor are they anywhere near his smoking cauldron.
Malfoy's right hand is braced on the table, and he's leaning over to casually and innocently push Blaise with his left.
Blaise stumbles a bit, and stops stirring his own potion to give Malfoy a secretive smile.
Malfoy isn't a flirt.
Malfoy is not a flirt.
That's not flirting.
It's not.
Blaise glances around the room and sees that Snape is busy criticising Neville's potion.
He moves closer to Malfoy and whispers something in his ear. A wicked smirk slowly appears on Malfoy's face.
Harry tears his eyes away and they meet dark livid eyes behind a curtain of greasy black hair.
Harry jolts out of his stupor and mentally stumbles away from the sight.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Potter, due to your insufferable staring problem." Snape drawls, as his eyes flash and narrow in suppressed pleasure.
Harry's eyes flicker towards Malfoy.
Malfoy isn't looking at him.
Harry walks down the corridor alone in his Invisibility Cloak.
He can't sleep. He can't lie on his four-poster bed, listen to Neville's snores, and attempt to fall into the dark bliss of unconsciousness.
He can't escape the pain of reality, and dream a world where existence means him and Draco, together.
Harry rounds the corner, and shivers under the Invisibility Cloak.
It's cold down in the dungeons.
Blaise is trying to feed Malfoy toast.
Malfoy sneers and pushes the toast away.
Blaise shifts closer to Malfoy and suddenly they're too close.
Too close to be 'just friends'.
Draco's eyes are fluttering closed, and a small smile plays across his lips before Harry looks away.
I won't watch him. I don't care about him.
I don't love him.
I don't
love him.
I don't love
him.
Hermione is looking at Harry with odd shimmering pity-laden eyes. Ron doesn't notice anything.
If you wanted rules, one of the fucking rules should have been
'No emotion'.
It should have been rule number four: no fucking emotions involved.
Harry sees Malfoy walking alone in the corridors.
It's late.
Harry catches up to Malfoy and pushes him. He pushes him with every ounce of hate and anger he feels towards him.
Malfoy slams against the cold wall of the dungeon. Malfoy's eyes narrow and he straightens himself before sneering, "Potter."
Harry wants to run.
Harry wants to put as much distance as he can between him and Malfoy, but his legs don't move. Malfoy must have hexed him with the leg-locker curse.
"Take off the fucking cloak, Potter."
It's not the leg-locker curse.
Harry slowly sheds the Invisibility Cloak.
Malfoy immediately looks away from Harry's eyes, and stares at the empty spot just to the right of him.
You don't love him.
"What?" Malfoy sneers.
Confused, Harry frowns at Malfoy.
"I don't love who?" Malfoy asks in an icy tone.
I said that aloud?
A moment of dead silence passes by.
"You don't love Blaise." Harry blurts out.
"Is it any of your business whether or not I love Blaise?" Malfoy asks in a cold quiet voice.
"You, I – you had feelings for me. I know you did. I know you do." Harry says in a small voice as he looks at his shoes.
"I don't – I never did! I do love Blaise. Are you Blaise? No? Then I don't love you! I love Blaise." Malfoy shouts. He almost sounds as though he is trying to convince himself, rather than convince Harry.
Almost.
"That's not love."
"Fuck off, Potter. I never loved you. It was just a fucking game. We had rules! We fucked around, and that's all. I don't need you, because I have Blaise. I don't have rules with him."
Malfoy turns and walks away from Harry after giving him one last glare.
I don't need you.
I don't
need you.
I don't need
you.
Blaise and Malfoy aren't together anymore.
Blaise complains that Malfoy is pining over someone else.
I won't cry for you, Malfoy.
I won't.
You don't – you don't deserve it.
I won't cry because I hate you.
And crying over someone you hate is completely stupid.
I'll only cry because
I
wish
you
were
mine.