by star of david
Harry/Draco
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters in this story; they were created by the genius, JKRowling. I do own the plot.
SUMMARY: "But why do I love you?" Everything Draco Malfoy does definitely ticks Harry Potter off, and vice versa. A song fic to Three Days Grace's I Hate Everything About You.
Harry saw Malfoy from across the hall, his blond hair unmistakable, even from such a distance. Malfoy caught Harry's eye and glared at him with all the coldness his gray eyes could bring. Harry could swear he felt a cold wind sweep across the hall with that glare.
What the bloody hell is wrong with that fucker? Harry asked himself. "What'd you do this time, Harry?" Hermione asked Harry, occupying the empty seat to his right.
"He doesn't have to do anything, Hermione," Ron answered from Harry's other side. "Malfoy's always glaring at him." He stuffed his mouth with pumpkin pie and swallowed the entire thing. "After six years, I thought you knew that."
Ron enjoyed a few more mouthfuls of pie before speaking up again. "I hate that git," he said. Harry nodded.
"Finish up, Ron, we've got Quidditch practice in ten minutes," said Harry, draining his goblet.
"Yessir," replied Ron. He managed to grab hold a handful of practically everything laid out on the breakfast table before following Harry to the Quidditch pitch. The rest of the Gryffindor team was already waiting for them, and so were the members of the Slytherin team.
"What the fuck are they doing here?" Harry demanded.
"Sorry, captain," said Katie Bell. She handed Harry a rolled-up piece of parchment. Harry unrolled it and read aloud. "I, Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House, permit the Slytherin team to practice after breakfast today." Harry crumpled the parchment in his right fist. "Fuck."
Malfoy stepped out into the pitch, his nose up in the air. "Well, Potter," he called out. "Looks like we're gonna have to share the field today, aren't we? I guess we'll see whose team is better, eh, Potter?" he scoffed. The Slytherin team gave out whoops of glee as their blond captain walked over to their side of the pitch.
Harry's insides boiled. Whatever he did, Malfoy's smug look could never be wiped off his stupid face.
He hated how Malfoy walked around school, thinking he was better than everyone else. He hated the way Malfoy bragged about his father's connections, about being a pureblood, and about all the gold his family's got in Gringotts. He hated how Malfoy always knew the words that would make he, Harry, or his friends, crumple up in shame and indignation. He hated how Malfoy was Snape's favorite just because Lucius and Snape were old buddies, and Snape and James were bitter enemies from the beginning.
He hated how Malfoy's white-blond hair beautifully reflected the sunlight. He hated how the sight of Malfoy's gray eyes made him want to stop and stare at him all day. He hated how Malfoy's Quidditch-toned body showed despite the long robes. He hated how he woke up alone in bed after dreaming all night about being wrapped in Malfoy's arms.
"Harry?" Ginny was waving her hand in front of Harry's face. "Hello?"
"Huh?" Harry's mind suddenly snapped back to reality. The images of his and Draco's faces closing in on each other, leaning in for a passionate kiss, dissolved rapidly.
"Are you OK?" Ginny asked.
"Yeah," Harry lied. He wasn't OK. He was in love with the worst possible person on earth.
"Don't mind him," said Ron. "He's just being a git, as usual. Let's go." Ron mounted his broom and kicked off. He was shortly followed by the rest of the team, including Harry.
The Gryffindor team flew around, warming up. Harry and Ron stayed close together and to the ground, trying to eavesdrop on Malfoy's pep talk to the rest of the Slytherin players.
"I hate everything about that git," said Ron angrily.
"Me too," agreed Harry. He wasn't lying, either. He really did hate everything about Malfoy. Especially how the boy unknowingly made Harry fall -- and fast.
But why do I love you? Harry asked himself.