The Simplest Truth

Warning: HPDM slight slash.

Notes: Originally written for the Time-Turner magazine on Enchanted Sanctum (unpublished so far), but has been edited.

Those eyes.

I will remember the colour of those eyes as long as I live.

That smile.

I will remember how his mouth curves as long as I live.

Those touches.

I will remember every single feeling he evoked as long as I live.

Black.

Green.

Silver.

Grey.

So what if he was different?

So what if he didn't fit in?

So what if he was my enemy?

I love him.

Simple words create complicated emotions.

Melodrama just makes simplicity look like a fat foolish fraud.

Black, the colour of night, just like the robes he and I wore.

Green, the colour of my eyes and his favourite colour, so he says.

Silver, the colour of his hair, the colour of affluence, the colour of purity.

Grey, the colour of his eyes, and of his usual mood, his second favourite colour.

I know so much about him; I could fill an entire encyclopaedia.

Those eyes always locked with mine in a silent battle. Sometimes it was in jest, some of it in anger, but most of the time it was in fiery lust.

That smile was like a reward to me. It was pleasing to see him happy, to see him have fun, to warm his cold demeanour enough to draw a typical smirk from him.

Those touches always seemed to dance on my skin. They made me want to curl up with him, away from the world, away from everyone else, escape to a world of our own.

Reality can be a real slap in the face.

Truth was, I didn't know if he loved me.

Was I just a plaything?

Was I anything to him?

Was I just a stand-in for someone else?

He said I meant the world to him, but the very next moment I saw him wrapped around some girl. He got angry when I mentioned it, asked me if I doubted him. I said I didn't, but inwardly I did.

My friends, once a comfort, shrank away. I have become a shell of the person I used to be. It's no wonder he left. No wonder she came.

He thought I was weak, that I was yesterday's leftovers. He probably thought that.

She thought I was strong, that I was tomorrow's future.

Both of them were wrong.

I wasn't weak, but I wasn't strong either. I didn't want to be strong all the time; I was tired of being the role model for every single person. My pride kept me from being weak.

I wasn't yesterday's leftovers, nor was I tomorrow's future. I was simply the present, living for what life was worth, bumbling through the obstacles.

"So, you found a new girl, eh Potter?"

"Yeah, what's it got to do with you, Malfoy?"

Blazing fury never suited anyone's eyes but his. It made them glow with an unnatural aura. I stared right back at him.

"Get away from him, Ferret!"

I admired her courage, but I loathed leaving.

"What's the matter, Weaselette, jealous?"

"Of what, Malfoy?" My footsteps sounded so loud, resounding in the hallway. "Harry? Harry!"

I ran off. I just wanted to be alone.

"Thought you'd be here."

"Yeah, well, I want to be alone."

"Funny, I had the feeling you wanted to talk."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

I revelled in the silence for a little while, trying to sort out the tangle of emotions.

"I've missed you." There's something in his voice that's different from before. It's warmer, and it was apologetic.

I kept my silence. I didn't trust myself to speak; my throat was clamped shut by shock.

"I know it was wrong to do all those things in front of you, but you've got to understand. My friends won't accept it. My family won't either."

"My friends left me when you did." I croaked out, anger taking the place of shock.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but… Oh, crap."

The silence that followed was bitter.

I swallowed. "Draco, can I ask you one thing?"

Nod.

"Was I ever just a plaything to you?"

An outburst that was full of vulgar expletives exploded from his impeccable figure.

I winced.

"Harry, look, the fact is that I left because I thought you didn't love me anymore."

"I thought you left because you didn't love me."

"Oh fantastic, we really screwed up, didn't we?"

"Yeah, we did a brilliant job on that."

"Let's start from the beginning, shall we? I missed you."

"I missed you too."

Reality can be the opening of one's eyes.

Grey.

Silver.

Green.

Black.

His touches seared my skin.

His smile lighted me up.

His eyes burned through me.

Sometimes, complicated emotions dictate the laws of simplicity.

I will love him as long as I live.

That is the simplest truth.

I think this is drabble. If it is, it's my first.