Warnings: Implied rape, but it doesn't actually happen. Slight AU, because it disregards HBP, therefore no spoilers.

A/N: () is a quote from Aristotle.

Draco Malfoy was screaming in agony, while the hoard of Death Eaters surrounded him. Voldemort was cackling evilly, while Harry stood, frozen, forced to watch the scene play out. Among the Death Eaters torturing Draco was his own father and aunt. His mum laid, bent and broken, a few feet away. Her eyes were wide open and soulless. Dead. Her chest held a scorch mark from where the Killing Curse hit her. The platinum blonde hair fell around her shoulders, creating a halo effect.

Draco's cry brought Harry back to the current events. "Harry!" It was cried in torment. "Harry, h-h-help m-me! P-p-please!" Harry tried to reach for his wand, but he was frozen in spot. Evil cackling filled his ears, but over that he could hear the blood splashing on the stone cold floor. Draco's death rattle echoed in the dungeon, and Harry's tears spilled over his eyes hitting the floor with an ear shatter intensity.

"No…" Harry suddenly seemed to be free of whatever held him stationary. "No…! You bastard! You stole the last person that I love!" Harry dropped his wand, and ran towards the man who was laughing at Harry's lost. Harry was shaking with rage as his hands around the bastard's neck. Voldemort's blood red eyes narrowed, as his arm raised lightly, while the other, gripped Harry's left hand. Harry snarled at him, and cast a wandless severing curse. The Dark Lord's arm fell off, the one wielding his wand, and an agonizing scream flew from Voldemort's throat, but it was muffled because Harry's hands tightened.

"You stole my family. Murdered Cedric, and Sirius. Then you order your dirty followers to kill my only love…and the one woman that treated me like a son," Harry hissed, green lightning bolts flowed off his body, hitting every single Death Eater, killing them instantly. Except Lucius Malfoy, who merely had his wand knocked from his hand. "Now, it's your turn."

Harry's hands tightened around the thin neck, and the teen could feel the bones break under the intensity of Harry's grip. Blood slid slowly down the corner of the Dark Lord's mouth. The hand, icy cold, was slowly loosening its hold on Harry's hand. The body fell limp, and Harry threw it away from him, in disgust. He turned angrily on his heel, and staggered towards Lucius, who had a look of pure shock, and disdain.

"Don't look at me that way, you bastard," Harry sneered, a trick he learned from Draco. "Did you feel like a man when you pushed them around? Do you feel better now because they fell to the ground? Well, I'll tell you my friend, one day your worlds going to end. And because your lies crumbled down, they found a new life. And you not only tear their lives away, you tore mine too."

Lucius was about to retort when Harry's wand found itself in its owners hand. "Curico…"

Harry jumped up in his bed, wand in his hand, pointing it at nothing. He was drenched in a cold sweat, and his breath came out in ragged gasps. His heart was racing, and his stomach was doing flip flops. His mind was running over the dream—no nightmare. It was replaying over at the speed of light. He honestly had no idea what his dream meant this time, but he knew that it wasn't a Voldemort induced one. Why would the…thing he was meant to kill send him a vision of actually killing him. The boy lowered his wand and seeked out his glasses. He found them, put them on, and the room came into focus.

His insides were twisted in a sickening tight way and they kept tightening, and he didn't know why. But deep inside of him, past the fear and slight shock, he needed to see Malfoy, and he needed to see him now! He really didn't know why, because they weren't on speaking terms, but something inside of him screamed at him. Screamed that if he didn't see if Draco was alright, this feeling in his stomach, and heart, would just continue to bother him.

The dream confused him, on so many different levels. He wasn't planning on telling Dumbledore, that would just lead to problems, but the feelings surrounding the nightmare… "Then you order your dirty followers to kill my only love…and the one woman that treated me like a son." That line made a shiver slide down his spine, and settle at the base of his back. Only love? Harry didn't even like Malfoy, more or less love him. And Narcissa Malfoy treating him like a son? Yeah, that'll be the day. But, the look that graced her deceased face was one that would haunt him for a long time. She looked like an angel, fallen from grace. And that added to the pain in his chest.

There was a loud bang on the door, and it opened. Ron came in wearing Ravenclaw colors. Harry cocked an eyebrow, but remembered that today was the Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff Quidditch game. Hermione was behind him, donned in yellow and black.

"Hey, mate. Sorry about not waking you for breakfast. I knew you were up late doing homework, so I convinced 'Mione to let you sleep," Ron said, blushing slightly at the smile that Harry gave them.

"Thank you, Ron. I really needed it," Harry stood up, stretching, making the wife-beater shirt ride up. "I'll be down in a few minutes." His friends nodded, and left, closing the door with a light click. Harry ran his hand though his hair, mussing it up even more.

He decide to wear Ravenclaw colors, because at the last meet he wore Hufflepuff. He stripped himself of his pajamas, and chose his clothes. He chose a blue cotton T-shirt that had dull gold stripes going horizontally across it. The jeans had holes in the knees, and was so faded that they were nearly white, but they were his favorite. It looked like a pretty nice Autumn day, but it was slightly nippy, so he grabbed a gray Muggle beanie that he was never seen without anymore. He charmed it bronze, as he often did—charmed it—and grinned at himself in the mirror.

This is going to sound so conceited, but he looked damn hot!

He laced up his black hi-top Converse, and nearly skipped out of the dorm room, the mood swing surprising himself. He was greeted by two smiling faces of his best friends. They, wordlessly, walked down to the Quidditch pitch. Everyone was there, and Harry's stomach flipped when he saw platinum hair just a few feet from him. His heart jumped in his throat, while his stomach fell to the ground. Ron and Hermione were too wrapped up in each other to really notice him, so Harry jogged the few feet up to Malfoy.

He heard Draco talking quietly to Blaise. He couldn't hear what he was talking about, but Harry could tell it was serious. Too bad he was about to cut the conversation short. Harry pushed past some younger Ravenclaws, who practically jumped for joy to see Harry wearing their colors. He calmly walked next to Malfoy as if nothing was wrong. Harry's hand grabbed Malfoy's elbow, and pulled him to the side before he had a chance to protest.

Damn his Gryffindor courage.

"Potter? What the hell?" Malfoy said, his brows knitted in confusion.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry mumbled, dragging him under the nearest Quidditch tower: Hufflepuff. Harry let the flap swish behind them as he let Malfoy go. Harry just stared at the blonde, who turned to leave. "Wait."

"Why?" Malfoy's voice was vicious, and full of bite.

"Just, stay here a minuet," Harry closed his eyes, and absorbed the presence that was Draco Malfoy. The Slytherin always had the aura to him; it drew Harry to him everytime.

"What do you want, Potter?" Malfoy's voice was tired, and strained. Harry opened his eyes slowly, and Malfoy gasped. The intensity that was held in those emerald eyes…it was shocking. Harry slowly closed the gap between them, and with Seeker skills grabbed Malfoy's left wrist. Harry slowly rolled the long sleeve up to the blonde's elbow.

"Potter?"

Harry stared at the smooth, milky skin. There was nothing there. Not a freckle, not a scar from childhood accidents. Not even his veins were visible. But most importantly: No Dark Mark. Harry's lips quipped up into a small smile. Harry's fingers traced over the smooth skin, and not to his surprise, it was a silky as it looked. He continued to stroke the skin.

"Mal-Draco," Harry purposely used his first name. "Ruining such fine skin would be a sin," Harry met Draco's eyes, and he finally realized how silver they were. "So, don't." Harry leaned in close to Draco, unconsciously making his next words breathy. "Oh, and owl your mum. Tell her you love her."

Harry let Malfoy go, and left the blonde Slytherin wondering what the hell just happened.

Ravenclaw won. 320-140.

:.ZZ.:

Draco Malfoy was hanging on the cold dungeon wall, the cuffs at his wrist cutting into the fine skin, the blood sliding down his arms. His head hangs in complete despair, the blonde fringe blocking his clouded eyes. He's shirtless, and bruised, obvious cracks in the ribs. His breathing is shallow, and he's covered in his own dried blood. A small pool of it is at his feet, staining his trainers. Harry rushes to him, his wand gripped tightly in his hand.


"Draco, love," Harry whispers, his hand reaching under Draco's chin. Harry tilted his Draco's face towards his, and tears made tracks down his face. Draco's eyes were hollow, almost lifeless. The Dementors must have nearly killed him. Damn Voldemort. Damn the fucking freak to hell! This was the last time he would take someone from him.

"Draco, darling, talk to me," Harry cooed. Draco lifted his head, the tears falling as fast as a summer rain. "Oh, my precious Dragon."

"You're not here. They told me. You're dead…and I killed you. Oh, Gods! Harry, come back to me! I didn't mean all I said when we were younger!" The blonde's eyelids started to slide shut. " I…love you…so much," Draco's last breath escaped past his lips in a small sigh.

Harry's knees nearly gave out as Draco's head fell limp. His lip quivered with the unshed tears, and anger. His life flashed in front of his eyes, and every memory after the age of eleven included his dead love. He felt his heart shatter the same time the dungeon's door swung open. Voldemort and Lucius stood at the doorway, both smirking evilly.

"Welcome to hell, my boy."

Harry woke, his face and pillow soaked with tears, and more were steadily falling. He angrily wiped them away and wondered where these dreams were coming from. He didn't understand them at all, but once again there was this burning inside of him screaming at him, telling him to find Malfoy. To make sure he wasn't dead. To make sure that he was okay.

Harry figured that it was just his hero complex kicking in. He didn't want anyone to die at the hand of Voldemort, no matter who it was or whatever they did. But what he didn't understand was why he kept saying that he loved Malfoy. He knew he felt something strong for the boy, but it was certainly anything, and everything, far from love. But if that was the truth, why was he crying for the boy. Why was his heart in a vice-grip? Why was he about to cry again?

But he couldn't help the way his heart seemed to beat fast when he heard the words slip from Dra-Malfoy's mouth.

He looked around the darkened common room. He glanced at his clock. 8:13. Harry's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Ron should have woken him up by now. He shrugged, and got out of his warm bed. He threw the curtains open, and knew exactly what he was going to wear today. Dumbledore decided to let the dress code lighten up after hearing all the complaints.

Harry walked into the Great Hall 30 minuets into breakfast, donning a shirt that looked exactly like the one he wore yesterday except this one was green with sliver stripes. So, basically Slytherin colors. And he didn't know what possessed him to wear it. And just to make sure people looked, his beanie (The Professors had given up trying to get him to take it off.) had a snake curling around one side. He was still wearing his hole-y jeans, and black hi-top Converse. (He was quite accustomed to those too.) Harry could feel all the stares, and smirked to himself.

Harry was never the type to constantly dwell in the spotlight, but glowing in it once in a while was good for his self-esteem. He sat next to Ron, who was oblivious to the colors because he was too wrapped up in his blueberry pancakes to really notice anything. Hermione on the other hand noticed instantly. She also noticed the glow Harry surrounding him.

"Harry, what are you doing?" she hissed, leaning over the table. Harry quirked an eyebrow as he lifted a green apple to his lips. "Slytherin colors?"

Harry swallowed what was in his mouth before replying, "Well, Hermione. Everyone has a little Slytherin in them. I decided to humor him today." He took another bit out of the apple. His eyes glanced behind his friend, and found Malfoy staring, mouth wide open in an un-Malfoy-ish way. Suddenly, it was as if someone soothed his ruffled fur. His mind flashed back to his dream, and the blood made Harry set his apple down. He swallowed hard and watched Malfoy leave the Hall. He looked at Hermione, who was still staring at him in concern.

"I need to talk to you later about something important," Harry said before standing and following the lone Slytherin. Harry followed Draco all the way to the dungeons before his stupid little Gryffindor trait started to kick up. He jogged to stop Malfoy, grabbing him by the elbow again. Before Draco knew what was going on, he was pulled into a tight embrace from a complete stranger.

Stranger or not, it felt right. And Draco was startled by this.

"I forgive you, for everything, Draco," a whispered voice announced itself, and Draco went ridged.

"Potter!"

Harry's only reply was tightening his arms.

"Potter, what the bloody hell is going on?" Malfoy squirmed in Harry's arms, but, Goddamn, he had one hell of a grip. "Potter, release me this instant."

There was a pair of warm lips on his forehead, then he was alone in the hallway, once again wondering what the hell is going on!

:.ZZ.:

"So, you've been dreaming that Draco Malfoy dies, and you keep proclaiming your love for him?" Hermione asked. Harry realized that coming from her mouth, it sounded quite simple.

"Yea."

"And in the last two days, you checked his arm for the Dark Mark, in a quite sensual way, I might add. And today—a few minuets ago—you forgave him for everything he's ever done," Hermione kept her calm voice, and that worried Harry. "And kissed his forehead."

"Yea."

"Harry, I think that your subconscious is trying to tell you something," Hermione said, patting Harry's hand. They were sitting in the Library, in one of the darkest corners, and to make sure no one heard, they put up a silencing charm. "One thing should be obvious, but the other thing…the constant violence…" the girl tapped her finger to her chin. "That one is a puzzle to me. I have one question though…"

"What?"

"How do you feel after the dreams?" Hermione sat directly in front of the boy, and he stared into her brown eyes.

"Like my soul's on fire."

:.ZZ.:

"Do you know what I gave up for you?" Draco screamed at Harry. Harry flinched as the tears rolled down his boyfriends face. "Money, power. Hell, the Malfoy name! And you're doing what to me?"

"Breaking up with you…" Harry's voice was a mere whisper. "But, my Dragon—"

"Don't call me that!" His voice cracked, and Harry wanted nothing more than to draw him in and never let him go.

"Draco, I love you, but—"

"You have hell of a way of showing it! I gave you everything that there is to me, and do you know what you're doing?" Draco exited the realm anger, and entered into the realm of pleading. And Malfoy's don't plead…for anything, but Harry was an acceptation to the rule.

"I'm protecting you!"

"From what? From all the shit I've been exposed to since I was 12? Harry, if you wanted to protect me, you should have done that a LONG time ago."

"Draco…"

"I'm a big boy, Harry, I can protect you. And you can protect me. But I'm not letting you do this yourself! You are mine, and I am yours. 'Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.'(). Isn't that what you told me?"

"Yes…"

"If that's the case, then, Potter, get over yourself. I'm going anywhere anytime soon. Don't worry about us."

"What if I told you that I don't love you anymore…or at all…"

"I'd call you a liar, then go hang myself," Draco mumbled as he stepped into Harry's personal bubble. The blonde laid his head on his lover's shoulder. Harry's arms wound themselves around the slightly older one, and held him flush against him.

"When I'm with you my soul's on fire," Harry whispered, kissing the crown of his Dragon's head.

"Then you might want to get that check out. It may be seriously dangerous in the long run," Draco replied cockily, but Harry felt the smile spread across his lover's face.

"Funny, Malfoy." They laughed together, but Harry was almost positive that he heard an evil cackle off in the distance.

Harry woke with a smile on his face which scared him more than anything. First it was of Malfoy dying a horrible, painful, and often bloody death, and now it was fluff between them? Wait! There is no 'them'. There never will be a 'them'. And Harry didn't want to be a 'them'.

But he enjoyed the dream more than he was willing to admit. It was kinda nice to see them together, like that, like a couple. But that cackle…that was just wrong. It was like this was all a ploy to get him to fall for Draco, then have him deliver Harry to Voldemort.

"You saw his…pale…smooth…arm, and there was nothing tainting that pureness…" Harry's subconscious whispered to him, and the rational part of Harry's mind wondered when that part of him became so poetic. He looked over at the clock. 7:48. He yawned, and stood. It was nearly time to get up anyway, so Harry made his way to the shower.

After his shower, and dressing in more Gryffindor colors, he made his way down to the Great Hall. He saw Hermione practically being dragged towards the Hall by a very hungry Ron. He laughed to himself, and called Hermione's name. She was more than happy to run towards her other friend. Ron shrugged, catching whiff of the Belgian Waffles the House Elves had prepared. She smiled gratefully at her best mate.

"Thank you so much," Hermione whispered, grabbing Harry into a hug. "If I hear one more thing about how many syrups there is, I was going to scream!"

"I broke up with him," Harry said, once the girl let him go. His friend stared at him. "Then he begged me not to. He said he loved me, and we kissed. No violence, but there was evil cackling."

"Harry…?" Hermione asked gently. "Do you love Draco Malfoy?"

"…I don't know…" Harry looked around, refusing to meet her eye. "Maybe."

"Harry, are you sure this isn't a ploy?" Hermione asked, jumping into war mode.

"No…I killed Voldemort in the first one…there's no way he would send me that. And I'm not a Seer," Harry mumbled to himself, his gut tightening in anxiety.

"Hmm. Harry, look at me." He did. "Don't do anything rash! Do you understand me! We don't need anything else to worry about."

Unfortunately, the blonde came walking past them, not even noticing that they were there. He looked like something was plaguing him. Ignoring Hermione's warning, he reached out, and grabbed Malfoy by the elbow. The Slytherin didn't even protest. Harry led the two away, leaving an annoyed Hermione to watch. When Harry found an empty alcove, he lightly back the blonde into it.

"What now, Potter?" his voice offered no anger, or malice, just annoyance.

"Do you plan on joining Voldemort?" Harry whispered, stepping forward, inches away from Malfoy's mouth.

"No."

"Do you really hate me? My friends?"

"You, no. Granger, no. Weasely, yes."

"When did you stop?"

"Stop what," Draco seemed to get his attitude back.

"Hating me…" Harry wasn't in the mood to fight.

"A while ago. What is this? Twenty questions?"

Harry stared at the blonde, concentrating on his eyes. Harry's hand found Malfoy's and the seemed to fit perfectly. The Slytherin made no attempt to move, so Harry held on.

"Have you owled your mum?" Harry's voice was still a whisper.

"Yes," Malfoy replied, choosing to ignore the jolt of…something continually running up and down his arm. "She…um…she's doing fine." There was a quiver in his voice.

"Liar…"

"She's at our London flat, hiding. Is that what you wanted to hear Potter? Do you want to hear that my family is falling apart, and you played a very big part in that? Do you want me to tell you that I'm so worried that she's going to be found and killed, that I don't even care about my own safety? Do you want to hear that myself, and half of Slytherins have bounties on their heads because we wanted to live? Well, I'm not going to tell you anything."

"You just did," Harry whispered, as he slowly closed the gap between them, meeting Draco's lips in a soft kiss. Draco's eyes snapped shut, and just stood there, letting Harry bloody Potter kiss him. What the hell was wrong with him? He was hysterical, yep, that's what he'll say if anyone asks. It was a pure innocent kiss, neither making moves to deepen it. Harry pulled back, with Draco still leaning into the kiss.

"I'll protect you," Harry promised, leaving Draco to wonder, what the bloody hell was happening to him, and when had he become such a sap.

Maybe he'll go push some Hufflepuffs down to regain his masculinity. Yes, that sounds good.

:.ZZ.:

Harry was sitting on the Common Room's couch, half asleep, thinking about the looks Malfoy kept giving him when no one was looking and the ones when they were. It kinda confused him, but he probably confused Mal-Draco too. Hell, he was confused too. He was slowly starting to think that everyone was becoming confused, except Hermione of course. She wasn't the least bit confused, just kinda pissed off because Harry ignored her advice and did something completely rash!

"Harry, what the bleeding hell were you thinking! Kissing him!" she yelled at him, while Ron looked gobsmacked.

"Mate, you're gay?" Ron asked, looking shocked. The rest of the Gryffindors were mostly likely at class, because Hermione pulled the two out of History of Magic. Binns wouldn't notice. If the man couldn't notice Neville's chronic snoring, then the man didn't see shit.

"I don't know. Maybe…" Harry sank deeper into the couch. He never really pondered that thought. He just did all those things with Draco because that's what his instincts told him to do.

"Oh. Okay," Ron replied, earning shocked looks from both of his friends. "What? Don't look at me like that! If I had to kiss Cho Chang, I'd be gay too!" the red head shuddered.

"Ron, I have some chocolate frogs upstairs. Go and take as many as you like. Just leave a few for me…" Hermione said sweetly, attempting to get Ron to leave the room.

"It's okay 'Mine. I'm full from breakfast. Anyway, I want to find out who's Harry's boyfriend is. Go on, Harry," Ron said, smiling brightly at the raven-haired teen. Harry sighed and mumbled something that Ron couldn't hear. "Pardon?"

"Draco Malfoy," Harry said, flinching, waiting for the explosion. When it never came, he opened his eyes, and found Ron just looking confused.

"The Chocolate Frogs. They're in your trunk, right?" Ron asked, looking at Hermione. The girl nodded, and the redhead stood and left the common room. Hermione looked at Harry, and started to laugh.

"The boy is king at denial," Harry said, which only made Hermione laugh louder. "Okay, back to the situation at hand!"

"So-Sorry, Harry! Okay. Okay, I'm fine. Harry, it sounds like you really care about him," the girl said, her face very serious suddenly. "So, do you?"

"Yeah! No! I'm not sure," Harry said, looking at his hands. "I like the dreams, well, except for the fact that he dies. I like the was my name fell from his lips, and the way he said 'I love you'."

"If the Dark Lord killed him, what would you do?"

"Find him the second I found out, then choke the bastard until he stopped moving then sever him into small pieces, then feed them to the first hungry pack of dogs I came across," Harry replied darkly. Hermione raised her eyebrows, and sat back in her chair. She silently reminded herself never to piss the boy off.

"Okay. If her killed…um…Dumbledore. What would you do?" The girl asked.

"Dunno. Probably nothing at first. I'll eventually kill him…" Harry felt bad, but it was the truth.

"How about me, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Seamus, Dean, or the twins? How about them?" Hermione leaned forward, curious about the answer. Harry blushed, and looked away. "Same answer, huh?"

"I'd be just as angry, but I wouldn't risk it…" Harry whispered, a lump of guilt forming in his throat.

"It's okay, Harry. You love us, just not as much a Draco…"

"Choke me until I stop moving? Sever me into small pieces? Feed me to hungry dogs? How very Slytherin of you, Harry."

"Shit!" Harry dropped his head in his hands, gripping his scar. Hermione was kneeling next to him, and Ron's hands were on his shoulders.

"I would have loved to see that! Haha! So, you found your true love. Too bad I got to the blood traitor before you did. I have a…special plan for this one. He's so pretty don't you agree?"

"Liar. He's in class," Harry mumbled to himself. His friends switched worried glances. As Harry continued to mutter to himself.

"Are you positive, my boy? Because he's sitting—well lying—right across from me. He's bleeding a little bit, but that's because he struggled. He cried for you, Harry. And when he realized that you weren't coming, he gave up and stopped flailing."

"Ahh!" Harry knew that scream anywhere.

"Hear that, Harry? Guess what I'm doing to him. No, it's worst than Curico."

"S-stop please. Anything but that!"

"Oh, yes. Much worse." He cackled quietly and evilly.

"Liar…"

"Oh, really? Here, Draco, pet, talk to your 'love'"

"Harry! Oh, Harry make him stop. It's dirty and wrong. I'm not suppose to lose my virginity like this. I'm suppose to lose it to you, surround by candles…"

"HA! Isn't that sweet? Candles, and romantic music. I can see it now. Too bad he'll be dead before you even find where I have hidden him…Hmm. Threats won't work Harry, he's all mine now…"

"No!" Harry yelled, jumping up from his place on the couch, knocking Ron and Hermione back on their bums. He raced from the dorm, pushing people down in the process. Apparently, classes a let out a little early. He didn't bother to say sorry, none of it—none of them—mattered. All that mattered was Harry finding Draco. He nearly pushed Pansy Parkinson down, before he realized that she could help.

"Parkinson! Where's Draco!" Harry gripped the girl upper shoulders, and shook her lightly.

She scoffed and replied, "Like I'd tell you."

Harry's expression darkened dangerous. "Listen, bitch, I'm not any fucking mood to play these Goddamn games. Now, tell me where Draco is or I'll hex you to hell and back."

Pansy merely stared at the Gryffindor.

"Pansy, I'm not fucking joking!"

"He-he should be passing the Great Hall right about now. He came from Care of Magical Creatures," she stuttered. Harry let her go, nearly throwing her down in the process. Harry ran until he was in the area that led into the Great Hall when he saw the platinum blonde walking up the open doors that lead outside. He'll have to remember to thank whatever god who blessed that boy with that color hair. The clearing was pretty pack, most wanting to see what Harry was in a rush for.

Harry pushed some 2nd year Hufflepuffs out of the way, making them burst into tears. This made Draco look up, just in time to see an extremely pissed Harry Potter stalking towards him. He was surprised, but hid it easily.

"Potter—"

"Shut up, Draco," Harry's hands clamed onto the side of the blondes face, and he pulled the other towards him, searing their lips together in a possessive kiss. Harry half expected to be pushed away, but when Draco pulled him closer, he didn't care anymore. He didn't care that at least 7 dozen people saw them kissing in the hall. He didn't care that this would be across the school in a matter of minuets. He didn't care that in a sick, twisted way, Voldemort got them together.

All he cared about was his Draco.