Author's notes: I wrote a one-shot about this ages ago and I wanted to carry that on. I've always been convinced that Draco had an unrequited love for Harry so I wanted to write a story that summed up all of the books and films (I've added references to both) from Draco's point of view. So, here you have it. My interpretation of Draco's feelings for Harry from start to finish. The story starts here with the end of the battle of Hogwarts and Draco takes some time to go over the last few years and remember to himself.

I Need You to Hate Me

Intro

The great hall was packed with people yet it was eerily quiet. I sat on a bench that had somehow survived the onslaught with my hands clasped in front of me, my elbows on my knees, my head bowed. I didn't need to look up to know that there was rubble, broken brick and splintered timber around me. Sunlight poured through the windows, carving golden lines through the airborne dust. I was sitting to the edge of where one met the table, transforming the patch that it touched like the hand of Midas. Even the sun's beauty couldn't bleach out the bloodshed or chase away the darkness of this past few hours. Although it might have lent some feeling of hope, I suppose. All these people. It was over for them. But it would never be over for me. The darkness of what I had done, what I had almost done and what I was feeling would never truly leave my side. Mother and Father would come and find me, take me home, we'd sit in our massive house (finally free of death eaters) just the three of us and we'd try and rebuild. They might manage it. But me...

I finally raised my head to stare across the great hall. A few specks of dust and grit fell from my hair. I hadn't even noticed how filthy I was. My eyes scanned the swathe of fellow students (could I use the term "fellow" anymore?). I found him easily. Admittedly not because it was him but because he stood smack in the centre of that gang of red-heads, the Weasleys. I could have spotted that lot from the Forbidden Forest. Harry stood there talking with the Mother (whatever her name was). She was cupping his cheek, checking his injuries and Harry was looking awkward. Maybe he didn't appreciate the fuss? No, that was me. That's what I would do. Harry? Maybe one of the Weasleys died or something and he felt guilty. That sounded nearer the mark for him. It didn't stop me wanting to be the one touching him though. Comforting him.

But I couldn't. And that was just something that I'd learnt to live with this past few years. No matter what happened, I could never get close to Harry. Couldn't be his friend. Certainly couldn't have been anything more. Instead, I'd had to hate him, bully him, turn people against him if I could.

Under orders.

My Father's orders.

Always.

I sighed to myself, stood up and started walking. So what now? The Dark Lor-... Voldemort was gone. But that was never the issue. He never came into it. That was never what held me back. Voldemort wanted Harry. Ironic, really. If my Father hadn't been so dead set against me having any kind of interaction with Harry, Voldemort might have found use for me getting closer to him. So maybe it was a blessing that I was always kept on a short leash, being made to become his enemy instead of his... well. That was never going to change.

I made it outside. It had been so long since I'd been out in the daylight that the sun stung my eyes and it felt hotter on my skin than I remembered. I walked until I'd walked out of the courtyard and reached the point where the land fell away to meet the great lake down below. The wall had been blasted apart here. Precarious though it was, I sat down on the edge, staring downwards at the black water with the sunlight glinting off it in bright, pale gold petals. Mother and Father would find me sooner or later. But this time was for me. I needed to go over a few things.

I needed to remember...