Title: Hate Forgotten
Warnings: Slash—most everything is mild.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters involved do not belong to me.
Setting: Harry's sixth-year, disregard HBP
Summary: The line between love and hate is not thin at all. The complications and the reality of being enemies interfere, and the line becomes an expansive field that is nearly impossible to overcome. He deludes himself into believing their hate is stronger than the newly arisen feelings, but it is just that—a delusion.
Author's Ramble: Time for something with a bit more structure and solidity! It took a while to produce this one, but here it is—finally :)
x.x.x.x
Somewhere along the way, our hate disappeared.
x.x.x.x
Harry walked from Potions, his bag slung around his shoulder and his temple throbbing. To complete the image, Draco Malfoy strode in from a corridor to his left.
"Haven't got a headache have you?" Smirk. "That scars more trouble than it's worth, isn't, Potter?"
x.x.x.x
There was a time when such a comment would rile me up, but things happened, you see? Sirius died and nothing else mattered. Not you, not your petty comments and not your pathetic father.
x.x.x.x
"Potter, softening up, are you?"
Harry kept walking, Hermione looking at him with a worried gaze. Her friend had always been stubborn, but she was worried bottling up even more emotions would hurt him worse in the end.
Ron didn't have Harry's will.
"Shut-up, you little sod."
Red face. Clenched fists. Hair to match his temper.
x.x.x.x
I have friends who care about me. They'll do anything for me…
You? You won't do a thing. You'll only use these new feelings to manipulate me, no matter how painful it is for you in the end.
Sometimes I laugh when I think about how desperate you are to hate me.
But you can't.
x.x.x.x
"Potter!" Draco stalked toward the Gryffindor, pushing him hard against the corridor walls. Harry looked at him sternly for a minute, before pushing back. Hard.
Draco's lips turned up in a small smirk, and he shoved Harry once again. "Always rushing into things, you Gryffindors… no wonder Black is dead."
And dear god, he couldn't have said anything worse.
x.x.x.x
I remember hurting you then. Watching as you squirmed beneath me, the swell of your eye sending shivers of satisfaction down my back… the bruise on your cheekbone, the bleeding gash on your lip.
I remember taking you to the Infirmary not five minutes later.
I remember the feeling of complete fear, realization of what I had done.
x.x.x.x
Madam Pomfrey stared at Harry accusingly, but never asking questions. She looked back at Draco, pursed her lips, and began to heal his cuts and bruises.
"Of course he's alive, he's had worse Quidditch injuries, Mr. Potter."
Harry only blinked, wondering what had worried him so much in the first place. He and Draco had gotten into plenty of fights since the beginning of the year, each one nearly as vicious as this. In fact, he'd been sent to the Infirmary more times than he could count..
"Right—Er. Of course."
It was an unfortunate time for Draco to wake up, his soft expression turning into a scowl when he spotted Harry.
"What's he doing here?"
Harry answered before Pomfrey could.
"I don't know."
Pomfrey sent him a serious expression, before knitting her eyebrows together in a frown. "Alright, Mr. Malfoy. You should be just fine. Stay here for the night… You'll be able to attend your classes."
x.x.x.x
I stayed the night too. It was strange, the way you stared at me haughtily for hours, and then somehow I found myself under your covers, my lips moving hard against yours.
The kiss was as bruising as our fights, and I remember the exact curve of your lips as my tongue slowly swiped over it, coaxing your mouth open. You had complied absentmindedly, your hands gripping gently onto my hair.
x.x.x.x
Harry let his tongue enter Draco's hot mouth, and felt his heart speed up with nervous anticipation. Their mouths were still for a moment, both getting used to the feel of another, before Draco's hands tightened in Harry's hair and he gently pushed his tongue against the other boy's.
Harry seemed to light on fire with the small movement, and gripped Draco's waist. His tongue gently probed Draco's mouth as one of his heavy eyelids opened to stare at the flush adorning a usually pale face. Their lips stilled against each other, both boys catching their breath as their bodies collided together with each heaving inhale of air.
"Potter?"
Harry stared at him, his eyes wide. They took a few more heavy breaths, before Draco crashed his lips against Harry once more.
x.x.x.x
Days after that were strange. The kiss was a forbidden topic, though a singing memory. We could no longer stare at each other with menace, but instead with curiosity and an almost tender hesitance.
Thoughts of your lips plagued me. The remembrance of my hands pressed against your chest, the steady beat of your heart vibrating through my palms, occupied my every waking moment.
Avoidance was how we dealt with our strange new attraction.
x.x.x.x
Harry stood idly outside the potions room, wringing his hands. Draco was finally allowed back to class, and the Gryffindor hardly wanted to see him now, after avoiding him successfully for nearly an entire week.
Chewing worriedly on his lip, he peered over the edge of the door and let his eyes scan the classroom briefly. Finding nothing that resembled Draco's outrageously blond locks, Harry gave a small frown.
Moving back from the door, he almost yelped in surprise as cool, grey eyes stared at him in disbelief.
"Potter?"
Harry stumbled back, the door creaking shut softly, leaving them to the much unwanted privacy of the corridor.
"Malfoy."
The silence that ensued afterwards was incredibly awkward, Draco's face growing something akin to rose-coloured. Finally, he let out a string of curses, his arms dropping to his sides in an almost submitting gesture.
"I still hate you."
Harry's eyes finally met Draco's stubbornly. "I know."
x.x.x.x
But I didn't. I didn't really know.
There was something that changed, a new feeling rising in my chest and swallowing me. The way you would catch my eyes, and purposely brush across me in the hallways—a touch always lingering—told me that you were lying.
You didn't hate me. In fact, I could tell by the stares that the feeling was vastly changing into something else entirely.
x.x.x.x
Harry stared wide-eyed at the body pressing him into the stone walls, his own fingers entwined with ones several times softer. The weight pinning him down was light, but warm, and the presence was shy yet resolved.
The beat of his heart seemed to echo in his ears, provoking a strange feeling to consume his gut as he leaned forward. Somehow, he knew who it was in the complete dark, and that information should have disgusted, rather than excited him.
"Malfoy…"
Draco sucked in a sharp breath, before exhaling shakily. Warm breath skittered over Harry's face, and he swallowed slowly, realising how close they actually were.
"Can we pretend," his voice was oddly melodic without the sneer mutilating it, "That you don't know who I am." He was moving closer as he talked, their already close proximity becoming impossibly more so, to the point where the last syllable caused their lips to touch.
Harry closed his eyes, raising his head a short distance before letting it fall back down in a small nod, feeling intoxicated.
x.x.x.x
I said I would, but I didn't.
The soft kisses being pressed to my neck were done by you.
The traveling hands running up my trembling sides were yours.
The husky words, whispered into my ear, belonged to your voice.
I knew you didn't either, because the name you called was mine.
x.x.x.x
"I still hate you."
Draco lay curled in Harry's arms, his blonde head resting on a strong shoulder and his lips pressed gently against the Gryffindor's neck.
Harry didn't reply, only continuing to soothe the blonde's tense posture with soft touches, trying to placate him.
The blonde smiled crookedly, the bitter twist of it causing Harry to return the helplessness. Then those soft lips left his neck as Draco tilted his chin to innocently place a kiss on Harry's own.
x.x.x.x
You tried hard to hate me.
You spent all your energy forcing yourself not to care, that when you finally gave in, you were weak and skeptical.
Perhaps I should have been doubtful of us as well, but the trust I had for you only grew in harmony with my puzzling feelings.
Keeping that trust was hard, as your scathing comments caused more rifts than we had tender moments.
But somewhere along the way, all traces of hate disappeared.
Somewhere along the way, we fell in love.
x.x.x.x