Hello! Thought I'd try a Drarry story, so here it is. -Jack. *.
Draco Malfoy sat on the cold steps, hands in his pale blond hair and just covering his eyes. The flickering candles held the physical darkness at bay, but not the internal, emotional darkness. That resided deep in his heart, and only one flame would illuminate that. He twisted a lock of hair around one finger, a nervous habit he normally kept under control. But now was not a time for control. He was beyond control. Beyond embarrassment, beyond anything. All that existed now was a terrible ache of longing, depression, and the realization that he'd ruined it all. "Why... why did I have to kiss her, in front of him?" Draco moaned to himself, not realising it was aloud. It didn't matter anyway, nothing mattered. "Stupid jealousy stunt." He took his wand and, silently, drew a deep gouge along his arm. He shuddered, sucking in a breath. The wound healed, but its pain was still there, along with a scar that matched so many others; some fresh, some months old. It normally brought him clarity, but now his mind was unreachable, his heart inconsolable. Another moan tore itself from his lips. Pansy Parkinson? Why, what stupid thought ran through my head, why would he be jealous, why, why why... Draco was full of whys. He flashed back to the moment, a terrible incident, one he'd give anything to take back.*.
Pansy looked at him. Potter looked at him. Granger looked at him. Weasley looked at him. But Draco only looked at Potter. His deep grey eyes, coloured like concrete flecked with little snowflakes of white, focused on his love. His only, single, eternal love. And then he put his arms around Pansy's waist, feeling her bony hips, barely any flesh on them. She slung her arms around his neck, and he fought the impulse to flinch. She repulsed him. He kept his eyes firmly fixed on Potter, even as he fastened his mouth to Pansy's. She parted her lips, begging for entry, and he obliged. Potter turned away, and Draco watched him as he left the corridor, taking Weasley and Granger with him. Her hands started to slide down towards his trousers and he pushed her away, wiping his mouth. He fled, tears hot in his eyes. He'd sought to make Potter jealous, and realised now it was futile.*.
Harry Potter curled up in the armchair, his emerald orbs fixed on the roaring fire. The common room was deserted save for him, and the emotion spilled out of him. Why am I so bothered about who Malfoy sees? Harry's head, too, was filled with whys. He'd never, not once, felt any positive way towards Malfoy. Till now. He wasn't even aware that you could have those feelings for the same gender. Harry's cheeks burned profusely with the heat of some unknown sadness and jealousy that hadn't existed before. Salty tears spilled down his face, pooling around his mouth and slipping off his chin, onto his robes. Cries ripped out of his throat and sobs racked his body as he recalled, though he didn't want to, what had happened.*.
Harry stared at Malfoy, and felt Ron and Hermione staring too, or perhaps they were looking at Parkinson. Malfoy's beautiful eyes locked onto his. Harry knew what was about to happen by the way Malfoy took Parkinson's waist, by the tension in their muscles as she took his neck. And then their lips attached. Malfoy initiated it, and that made it all the worse. An odd but terrible feeling welled up inside of him. He wanted to kill Parkinson, to hit her with an Unforgivable Curse right where she stood. He wanted to hurt her, hurt her like he'd never hurt anyone before. Instead, he ran.*.
Draco knew he would soon have to go back to the common room. But he did not want to. He did not want to do anything. He felt numb. Yet he picked himself up, brushing off lint from his robes, putting his arrogant facade back in place. He set off at a stride down the corridors towards the cold dungeons, his legs moving automatically while his mind systematically broke itself into tiny pieces. He didn't feel the freezing temperatures of the hall outside the common room. The password tumbled out of his mouth, and he stepped inside to see Pansy. "Draco, I've been waiting for ages, we need to discuss our arrangements, our relationship, how far it'll go." She spoke quickly in a high voice that made Draco feel sick.
"Get. Away." He snarled and walked past her.
"Wh-wha-what are you saying, Draco?" She fluttered her eyelashes in a way that furthered his annoyance.
"I said get away. Leave me alone. It meant nothing. It was terrible, disgusting, I wish I'd never done it. It. Meant. Nothing." He whispered harshly, his tone threatening. Pansy whimpered and ran away to the girls' dormitory, a couple of her friends fussing over her. Draco went to his dormitory. Footsteps followed him. He whirled, fist raised. Then he lowered it. "Draco... What's going on mate? You kissed her, and now this... You look like hell, and, your arm..." Blaise Zabini trailed off towards the end of his sentence. He reached out towards Draco, who recoiled. "Leave me." Draco choked out, sitting on his four poster bed. Blaise sat beside him. "Don't think I haven't noticed those scars. Don't think I haven't realised that something is going on in your head. Don't think that I don't care." Blaise stared at him. Draco traced the latest scar with his finger.
"Blaise, please, leave it." He whispered.
"No." Blaise laid a hand on Draco's, and felt the flinch. Draco was compelled to tell his friend, but couldn't. It just wouldn't come out.
"Open up to me." Blaise pleaded.
"I can't." Draco replied.*.
Harry turned around slowly. Ron and Hermione came down from the stairs above. "Harry, are you okay? It's just, you've been down here alone for an hour, Ron told me, and... it's unlike you, I suppose." Hermione said, concern in her voice. Harry smiled weakly. She sat beside him, and Ron sat the other side. Ron offered him a Bertie Bott's bean, which Harry refused. Ron ate it; it turned out to be liver. "I need to tell you something. I've been, well, thinking, and I need you to listen, properly." Harry started. Hermione put her hand on his shoulder in a show of support. "Bloody hell, it's not You-Know-Who, is it?" Ron exclaimed.
"No.. it's not that. I... like someone."
"Blimey, why's that such an issue?" Ron asked, yawning.
"Because, well, it's... I mean, I like, well, I think I like-"
"Spit it out then! Give us the gossip!" Hermione hit Ron, who yelped.
"Draco Malfoy." Harry didn't meet their gaze.
"Draco Malfoy?" Ron was incredulous. Hermione rubbed Harry's shoulder and, almost imperceptibly pulled out her wand.
"I know it's weird, him being him, and us being us, and how we've always argued, and his dad's a Death Eater, but-" Harry was nervous now. Hermione sensed Ron's outburst.
"Forget that, he's a boy!" Ron said, as if it were an obvious problem.
"Ronald!" Hermione shouted at him. She hadn't been expecting that kind of response, and raised her wand threateningly.
"I just mean... that isn't a thing, is it?" Ron looked confused.
"What on earth are you rambling on about?" Hermione asked him. Harry groaned and cradled his head in his hands.
"Look, it isn't done. I'm.. sure." He did sound sure, but there was a crack somewhere.
"It's legal Ronald, for God's sake."
"Maybe in the Muggle world it is! If you live by their rules, maybe you should live as one of them!" Ron's was angry with Hermione's tone as she chastised him. She, in a blind fury, whispered 'Petrificus Totalus." harshly. Ron fell to the floor, frozen in a mask of anger, eyes rolling in their sockets. Hermione levitated him into the boys' dormitory, or at least high enough on the stairs to be out of earshot. "Harry, honestly, don't listen to him. He's being... old fashioned. There isn't a law against it in the magical community, it's just frowned upon. Anyway, attitudes have changed now. It's accepted by, well, some people. I think it's fine." Hermione mentioned tentatively. Harry dipped his head in acknowledgement of her comment. "So, when did you realise?" She asked, in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere and engage in small talk.
"When he kissed Pansy Parkinson. Hermione, he looked at me the whole time. I'm sure I didn't imagine it." Harry took his hands away from his head and looked at Hermione.
"Harry, I don't want to sound... well, I don't know really, but why would Malfoy look at you?" She asked.
"I don't know. Maybe he, maybe he knows? Maybe he knows, and this is another taunt, another way to get at me?" Harry's voice broke and lapsed into a stutter.
"Maybe." Hermione whispered quietly. Harry got up suddenly and strode away to the boys' dormitory, kicking Ron's prone body as he went.*.
This is just the first chapter. I know some people will have an issue with Ron being homophobic. It isn't that he is homophobic, it's to do with his pureblood upbringing (and Auntie Muriel) and he won't stay like that. Most fics I've seen don't have any issues regarding homophobia so I wanted to write one that deals with it, even if I don't write it in a way that the issue deserves. I feel that a community as old and, let's be honest, medieval-fashioned would have many, many homophobic people, maybe even more than our real society. (But then again, is the wizarding community really false? After all, it's in our head, and that doesn't make it any less real.). So, if you don't like what Ron is like in this chapter, don't read it. I needed someone to be, and Blaise and Hermione would never think like that because Hermione is muggle born and Blaise is Blaise. Maybe I'm biased towards Blaise.- Jack.