He looked over at the dark haired boy sitting next to him, pale grey eyes burning as he glared at their professor. When the tall, greasy haired man's wand hit the dark haired boy's hand, his look could've killed, but he made no move to take the boy's hand.
//And I'd give up forever to touch you//
Emerald colored eyes looked up, and lovked with icey grey. The spark of anger and confusion in them made the pale boy wrench away
//'Cause I know that you feel me somehow//
"So, Malfoy, why were ya starin' at Potter in Potions? Got the hots for him of somethin'?"
"Piss off Zambini."
"It was just a simple question, but with a reply like that, who needs and
answer."
"I do NOT 'have the hots' for Potter! I
was making sure he didn't mess my potion up by cutting the Mugwort wrong.!"
"Yeah, right, whatever."
Malfoy walked out of the Great Hall in a huff, and didn't notice the boy until he plowed into him. The light headed feeling he always got when he was close to him flew through him, and he looked at the hand that was extended to him.
//You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be//
"Next time, watch where you're going, Malfoy."
As he walked away, the feeling was replaced by anger and darkness, and he remembered where he was headed day after tomorrow. He scowled to himself and took off again for the Slytherin Dungeons.
//And I don't want to go home right now//
He walked into the locker room, his Quidditch robes trailing after him, and he slammed his Keeper against her locker. His fist closed around her throat, and he was right in her face as she glared at him. The other hurried out, knowing fully well what was about to happen.
"Do you have any idea what you've done, Zambini?! Any idea at all!?"
"Should I?" she gasped as he threw her across the room.
"You think by telling Potter that I 'want him' you'll throw him off his game?"
"He was kicking are ass! We had to do
something!"
"Did you ever stop to think that it would throw me off? Now the whole school thinks I've got this
thing with him, and I don't think you want people to know about the 'thing'
you've got with Parkinson."
"You wouldn't dare!"
"You don't tell Potter that it was all part of strategy and that it wasn't
true, or I print it in the Daily Prophet.
Pansy doesn't know, does she?"
He turned and stormed out, grabbing his broom as he tore out onto the pitch. He pulled a small box from his pocket, and released a green platinum snitch. It wizzed around him before taking off into the sky, and he took off after it.
Flying in lazy figure eights, long languid archs and loops, he kept his eye always on the snitch. He let it keep its lead, and when it shot upward faster than he could think, he came face to face with a bludger. He fell from his broom, the bright green snitch the last thing he saw as he tasted blood in his mouth.
//And all I can taste is this moment//
He felt arms around him, pulling him close, and the light that flashed in the darkness around him felt so familiar. The scent of clove oranges filled his senses, and the feeling of lips over his was enough to make the light take over.
//And all I can breathe is your life//
He carefully wrapped his arms around the body over him, deepening the kiss, and refusing to open his eyes as the lips pulled away.
//'Cause sooner or later it's over//
"Dear me, what happened? Mr. Malfoy, can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up?" a familiar voice said, forcing him to open his eyes.
//I just don't want to miss you tonight//
He watched as Harry walked away, catching the green snitch as it moved to pass him. He felt the darkness come back, and he let it take him. He'd already messed everything up, and he missed the chance to tell him.
~!*!~
He sat on the bed in the Hospital Wing, head in his hands as he sobbed. He'd already scolded himself, recited the 'Malfoy's don't cry' mantra over and over again, already thought about what his father would say. Thought about what he would think. What he would say when he got out of the clutches of Madam Pomfrey.
//And I don't want the world to see me//
"Why the hell did it have to be you?" he said to no-one in particular, "Why the fuck did it have to be you!?"
//'Cause I don't think that they'd understand//
"My father will kill me." his voice was dark and almost a laugh, "if of course Voldermont doesn't do it first."
He laughed out loud as he thought of Voldermont. The coldness that occupied the room everytime he visited. The darkness of the shadows as he moved among them. The way the light was sucked out of everything around him. The cold, ice like red eyes that looked over his body like he was some sort of delicious desert. The way his breath smelled of smoldering flesh.
Actually, his entire being smells of smoldering flesh. he corrected himself, trying to stiffle his laughter.
The feel of his tongue over his collar bone, like a new born serpent making its way out of its mother. Thin, bony hands over his skin, leaving a trail of ice and slight pain behind…
//When everything's made to be broken//
The thin line of red that trailed down his body as he ran the tip of his wand over him. The sickening cry of pleasure he made as that wand trailed over his semi-hard member. He shuddered as the feeling of those hands wrapping around him, touching him, all came back. Then, like always, he pushed the darkness away, curling in on himself as his mother burst into the room.
Her wand at the ready, pale eyes glowing brightly as she let out a terrifying scream, canines dripping with saliva as she stared the Dark Lord down.
*Don't you ever touch my son again, do you hear me!?* she spat, her
crimson robes torn to shreds as her white demon-like wings ripped free of her
back, covered in blood that glittered in the light her body was emitting. *He
is not his father, and I will not allow you to treat him like you
do Lucius.*
*The boy is already mine, Narcissa!*
The green that Draco had always known as Avada Kedavra erupted from Voldermont's wand, and to his amazement, was diffused around his mother's half naked form. He saw her smile ruefully at him and as everything finally faded to black, he felt her arms wrap around him, pulling him to safety.
*He'll never touch you again, Draco. I promise you.*
It was three days after his return to Hogwarts that term that he got word of his mother's death. She had attempted to face Voldermont alone, and failed.
//I just want you to know who I am//
He walked out of the Hospital Wing with his head held high, and ignored the looks he got from two familiar Gryffindors. Blue and brown eyes followed him as he entered the Great Hall, headed straight for the Slytherin table. Half way there, he turned around and stalked to the Gryffindors, and stood across from Harry.
"What Zambini said, it's not true." he said, hoping that the dark-haired boy
didn't catch the slight waver in his voice.
"That's not what it looked like when you kissed him." one of the Gryffindors
shot at him.
"Seamus, that's enough!" Harry spat, standing as he glared at the Irish boy.
"Malfoy, I don't really care, because even if it was the truth, I don't fancy
boys. And even if I did, I wouldn't
fancy you."
//And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming//
He saw the tears brimming in Malfoy's steely eyes, and felt his heart tighten.
Malfoy's don't cry! Draco told himself, grasping for control.
"That's good, because I don't want you anyway… other than dead."
"Good."
//Or the moment of truth in your lies//
Harry felt the darkness that had settled over him sometime last night, after returning to his room once Malfoy'd been brought to the Hospital Wing, close back in. His heart still ached as Malfoy left the Great Hall, a backwards glance thrown only once in his direction. Again he saw tears in those entrancing eyes, and again his heart was pained.
//When everything feels like the movies//
"In Muggle movies, the girl would go running back to him." he laughed to himself, "and I would be the girl."
He punched the stiff dragon hide punching bag before him violently, and he knew that imagining Voldermont's face wouldn't do him any good. But he did it again. And like always, he collapsed some hour later, exhausted.
//Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive//
He marveled at the line of crimson that traveled down his arms, dripping onto the pristine white satin sheets. It felt incredibly good to see what made him tick pooling over him. He let his hands work over his body as he felt the familiar light headed sensation creeping up on him.
//And I don't want the world to see me//
He looked at his fresh scars with a satisfied look on his face. He felt the tingle of sensitivity that they held as he walked past his fellow Slytherins and out into the court yard. With a flick of his wand, he summoned his broom, and flew to the top of the Astronomy Tower. He knew that they would ask questions about his good mood. Truth be told, he didn't want to be anywhere near the Gryffindors.
//'Cause I don't think that they'd understand//
He pulled out his journal, and a quill, writing the past nights experience with his cutting.
//When everything's made to be broken//
"DRACO!! How dare you disobey me!"
"I'm not like you or like him, so don't you dare try to tell me
other wise! Everything I've ever done,
it was for you. Well I've grown sick of
it! It's bad enough that you sold yourself
to him, but to sell your own son!
That's just sick!"
"You are a Malfoy, boy, and I am your father! You wouldn't be here if it weren't for me!"
"And what about Mother?! She played an
equal part in my existence as well, didn't she? And she protected me with her life. Well you know what? I
protect that which is dear to me, just as she did, and if it's Harry Potter you
want, then so help me Merlin, you will be going through me to get to him!"
//I just want you to know who I am//
He stepped onto the Hogwarts Express, long platinum blonde hair shadowing his face as he walked to the back of the car. He picked an unoccupied booth, and sat down by the window, his brown leather bag by his side. He opened it, ignoring the other person that had stepped into the small booth, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He lit up, took a short drag, and looked up at the boy that sat across from him. He already knew who it was, but for the sake of being polite he looked up.
"Don't you have anything to do other than stare, Weasley?"
"Don't you have anything better to do about your face? It's hideous."
//And I don't want the world to see me//
Draco raised a hand to his left cheek, and felt the now familiar scar that made it's home there. It wasn't highly visible, just a pale pink lightning shaped line down the side of his face, and under his hair, he didn't think anyone would have noticed. Leave it to one of the Gryffindor Trio to pick up on something like that.
//'Cause I don't think that they'd understand//
"Ron!"
Draco didn't look up, he couldn't. He knew who stood in the doorway, with Hermione Granger on his arm. He knew that those jewel-like eyes were looking at him with a hint of compassion, and with pity. He knew every inch of the lean, muscular body that stood before him, and he knew every sound it made. He knew that those eyes, those lips, those hands, that entire body, had seen him at his worst. Had seen what gave him this scar. Had destroyed the thing that cast the spell. The thing that had violated him. He took another drag of his cigarette as Hermione sat down, and as emerald eyes fixed on his smokey ones, he felt the familiar light take over. He smirked and stood up, taking his bag with him.
"I'm sure you three have important details to discuss." he said, cigarette
between his lips as he walked past the boy-man- and into the hall.
"Malfoy, you're welcome to-"
"You have your friends, Potter, and I have mine."
//When everything's made to be broken//
He held his bag up for emphasis, and knew that they caught the fact that he flicked his cigarette into the ash tray by the door. As he turned to walk away, he made sure that his hair flew away from his scar, and he heard Hermione gasp. He felt the darkness come again, and rather than sigh, he took a drag of his cigarette.
Muggles certainly know how to make their drugs. he thought, pulling a bottle of Aftershock from his bag and walking into the baggage car.
//I just want you to know who I am//
Stepping off the train, Draco swayed a bit. He caught himself on the closest person to him, and wouldn't he know it was Harry. The Fates were cruel.
"Malfoy…"
"I'm just a little tipsy, Potter, not to worry."
"What were you drinking?"
"Muggle stuff… AftahShuck, or sumtin' like daht."
"You need to get cleaned up. Come on,
I'll get you up to the castle."
"Nah, go wit' your frien's, 'Mione's lookin' fur ya. I be okay."
"You're drunk. I'm getting you up to
the castle."
"'Arry?"
"What?"
"Don't let me go?"
After saying it, Draco passed out. Harry asked Ron and Hermione to bring Draco's trunks to the castle while he flew him up to the Hospital Wing. With a bit of protesting on Ron's behalf, they agreed, and Harry took off. He ignored the way Draco fit into his arms, and the tightening around his heart.
//And I don't want the world to see me//
Draco woke sometime much later that night, only to find Harry asleep next to his bed. He ran his fingers through the soft ebony locks like he'd done back in July, and carefully got up. He wrapped the white sheet around his naked body –why he was nude he had not a clue- and walked to the balcony. He looked back over his shoulder as Harry's voice reached his ears.
"Love you, 'Mione."
Draco smiled sadly, the tears he'd refused to cry for 3 –almost 4- years falling down his cheeks. He'd always known that the Boy Who Lived wa in love with the Mudblood witch. He couldn't blame him. She was incredibly smart, and witty, and if he were straight, he would've said she was pretty. Maybe beautiful. He picked up his bag, and pulled out his journal.
"You would've never understood the sacrifices I made for you, Harry." he said, stepping up onto the balcony rail and staring down at the ground below.
He pulled a wand out of the binding of the book and with a flick of his wrist, sent the pages through the air.
//'Cause I don't think that they'd understand//
"Students, your attention please."
Every pair of eyes in the Great Hall looked up to the Headmaster as he stood before them. His normally cheerful eyes were sad, and Harry saw the pained look he was given.
"Draco Malfoy, our Head Boy for this Term, passed away early this morning."
The murmurs that flew through the room were like the roar of a Quidditch crowd, but Harry didn't hear them. What did Dumbledore mean Malfoy had passed away? He was with him all night, and he… Malfoy wasn't in the Hospital Wing when he'd woken that morning. He turned his full attention to Dumbledore.
"I know that many of you knew him, and some of you were fortunate enough to be
considered his friends, and I wish to offer my sympathies and to tell you all
that my door is open. The same is true
of all your professors.
"Draco Malfoy, contrary to popular rumor and belief here in Hogwarts, was not a
Death Eater. He was raised to take his
father's place beside Lord Voldermont *the croud gasped at the mention of his
name* and refused. In his Fourth Year,
he whitnessed first hand what the Dark Lord was capable of, and like so many
others, it scared him. But unlike many
of the other students, some of which he knew personally, he had met with Tom
Marvolo Riddle. Had been subject to his
power, to his perverse minstrations.
"He had chosen to keep this a secret, knowing that no good would come from
people knowing, and in the end, his sacrifice was very much the key factor in
the defeat of the Dark Lord. It was
however, also the one fact that killed him.
"I remember that the last conversation I had with him was very much a riddle to
me. 'Love may be a gift to some,' he
told me, 'but it is my curse, and it's poison will run its course until things
are at peace.' Until last night, I had
not understood what he meant."
As his words took took their time sinking into the student's brains, dozens of owls flew into the room, each depositing a book into the lap of every student. Harry looked at it with wide, shocked eyes.
//When everything's made to be broken//
'The Journal of Draco Malfoy' the black leather cover read in bright Slytherin green letters.
Harry opened the book, and felt a very familiar magic wash over him. Looking at the first page, he saw ink swirling, and tapped his wand on it.("Aparecium.")
"In all the years I've known you, Harry James Potter, I have been nothing but a ignorant, spoilt, arrogant bastard, and I have done nothing but make your life a living hell. And despite my father's rule of 'Malfoy's never apologize,' I find that I am indeed very sorry for what I've said and done. If I could, I would take back everything I've ever said about your parents. Take back everything I've ever done to you and your friends. I would take back every insult and every glare and smirk I've given you, if only to have you believe me.
// "I just want you to know who I am" //
Harry couldn't help but flip through the book. His eyes were wide as he found confessions of his father's manipulations. Of Voldermont's plans. Of the way he would come from the shadows and the mirrors into his bed chambers. Of regretting ever telling Harry to chose him over Ron and Hermione. Confessions of how he wished the Sorting Hat had put him in Gryffindor.
No matter what he read, the one line from that first page, the page he knew was enchanted only so his Seeker's eyes could read it, kept playing over and over in his mind.
// "I just want you to know who I am" //
He flipped through faster, pictures of himself, of Quidditch, of battles, of him in Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, even the Express, pictures of everything flying past his eyes. There were articles from the Daily Prophet, from First Year, all the way to just before the Express left Kings Cross yesterday, yellowed from age, smeared with sweat or tears, Harry couldn't be sure.
// "I just want you to know who I am" //
And the whole thing wasn't just about him, it told about his child hood, about his father, his mother, about Voldermont being a regular visit. About all the other Death Eaters that had been close to his father. There was enough information in the Journal to put even a Ministry Auror in shock. The sad part was, it didn't shock Harry. He'd known what Lucius thought of his son. He knew what Voldermont thought and wanted of him. He'd seen if first hand. He'd seen what gave Draco the scar that ran down his face. He'd been the one to heal it. He'd been the first one to ever touch Draco Malfoy with his consent
"Harry?" he heard Ron ask. "You alright mate?"
"He'd been protecting me from the very start." he mumbled, ignoring the small
package that was dropped in front of him. "He saved me, and all I ever did was
treat him like shit!"
The entire Hall looked at him as he finally opened the box. Draco's wand laid there, glowing softly in the light emitted from the two platinum bands around it. He picked up the small letter that laid with them.
"I know that what happened that night was a one time thing, and it was
enough for me. It was enough to know
that I was going to die with the memory of you… You've always been a part of me, Harry Potter. Ever since that day in Madam Malkin's shop,
I knew that you were the Light I needed in order to defy my father. And knowing that you bestowed your Light on
me in the end is enough. It hursts,
knowing that it was because of you that I had to do this, I know, but please,
believe me when I say living would hurt even more. Watching you with Ms. Granger, it always hurt, because I always
knew she was the one. Please offer her
my congradulations, and take the rings and wand as my gift to you both.
"I'm so sorry Harry, I just wanted you to know who I am, who I was, and I lost
the chance when I told you I could help you sort out the right sort of Wizards
and Witches from the wrong sort. You
could've done great things in Slytherin, but you're a true Gryffindor. I pray that people remember me the way I
would have liked to have been.
"Love is a gift to most, but it was my curse, its poison eating away at me
until I knew I could let go.
Unfortunately, I could never say it…
"I love you, Harry James Potter, and I wish you and Ms. Granger the best.
"Draco Malfoy
"April 8th,1980- September 2nd,1997"
Harry dropped the letter, and looked at Hermione. She sat next to him, her hand over her mouth as she read the journal, tears streaming down her face. She shook her head and flipped the page. Ron was yelling and threatening to murder Crabbe and Goyle, who thought it all some wonderful joke. The entire Hall was in hysterics.
Draco… he gave everything he had to protect me. Everything he did, it was all for show. God… how much pain was he in? I- I- what have I done?
He looked up at Dumbledore, and the eyes he'd found so caring and laughing were pained. He grabbed the journal in his lap, and then reached for the wand and rings. The bright flash of white light that filled the Great Hall as he touched the wand was incredible, startling most people, and he felt his heart shatter. Hermione was watching as he bolted, and knew that it was over.
"He's finally realized it." she whispered to herself.
He grabbed his broom from the shed and flew higher than he'd ever flown before. His chest felt like it was constricted and on fire at the same time, and he knew he was crying. He knew that there was nothing left down there. Nothing would ever fill the void that he had just opened. Nothing would ever make the pain stop. Feeling the altitude getting to him, he looked at the rings in his hand, and found the inscriptions.
"Mi Amore Fatal"
He slipped one on his finger, leaving the other around Draco's wand, and as he let the darkness claim him, Draco's voice echoed in the air around him. He could see the pale violet irises that surrounded the vision of Draco he saw, white demon wings and glowing grey eyes confirming the fact that he was Veela. The one creature that would die from heartbreak… he wondered if there was Veela in his family line somewhere, because he hurt so much.
// "I just want you to know who I am" //
~Fin~
Whoa… I have really no idea where this one came from. Apparently, Muse was in a really angsty mood. As far as the story behind this goes, I don't know. I do know that it starts off before the Christmas Holiday, then starts up in the spring (hence the Quidditch game), and then jumps to the summer, and back to school again. And Draco's birthday… I haven't been able to find it, so I just picked a date that I knew was a particularly dominant astrological reading. Aries and Cancer aren't really supposed to get along (Fire and Water, so duh), but it makes for a great story and what not. This was meant to really show how much Draco knows Harry means to him, but can't show it because of his connections to 1) the Death Eaters, and 2) Voldermont. And yes, I know there would be some major trama with being touched by Voldie in that sense, but you have to remember, Draco's been raised to follow him so he thought it part of his duty at first (never saw anything wrong with it cause daddy does it), and he knew that he was protecting Harry, so he was just going to grin and bear it. I wanted to make this a multi part thing, but I guess Muse wasn't liking that idea. And I could do a sequel, but I need so major reviewage (not a word, but it works for me) to do it. This has like filled my angst requirement for the month. As always, reviews are much appreciated, so send 'em my way!
BTW: the song is "Iris", by the Goo Goo Dolls. Very addictive, or so Muse says. And the whole "Journal of Draco Malfoy" thing came from the movie "Cruel Intentions." Awesome movie.