Title: There are loves that kill, and loves even death can't kill.

Disclaimer: I do not own is a work of fiction. I do not make any profit from it
Category: Harry Potter
Summary: Draco has a tough decision to make. Does he really want to see Harry destroyed, after all?

Shit, but reading too many fic has messed with my brain. This just came out of nowhere while I was trying to study my final exams.

There are loves that kill, and loves even death can't kill.

When we first started going out together, everybody thought it wouldn't last long. How could it? Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter had always been enemies, and too hot-tempered to be together for more than a couple minutes without arguing; but I knew better. I had settled my eyes on him, and I would have him, Saviour of the Wizarding World or not. A Malfoy always gets what he wants, and I wanted him, with his newfound calmness and quietly commanding presence.

What can I say about him? It's been at least two years –I have lost the count, though I'm sure he has not. That's one of the things I love about him, how he always manages to remember everything that can be important, and even a couple of things that aren't.

And I love the way he opens his eyes wide when he is surprised, and the way they sparkle when he's amused, and the way the pupil seems to take most of the green in them when he is overtaken by lust. I love the way he messes up his hair, as if it wasn't horribly wild to begin with, making it stick out in every possible direction, and even some I'm quite sure are not possible at all. I love the way he flights, making twists and turns in the air as if he had been born to flight, cutting through the air at impossible speeds. I love...I love him, I guess.

But most of all I love the way he looks at me, adoringly, lovingly. It will make it so much satisfying to destroy him...

It almost makes me reconsider, and for a while I stood indecisive in the blade's edge, my heart tugging in two different directions. I wanted him dead, destroyed, annihilated, so much...yet I somehow found myself content in his presence, amused by his incongruences, and sometimes even longing for the feel of him against me, sharing his warmth in the long, cold nights of winter.

And then it happened. We were at the Weasels, another endless afternoon at the annoying and utterly disgraceful place, but Harry had looked at me with those huge puppy eyes and I couldn't muster the energy to say no. He was staring absentmindedly at his hands, wound tightly around a cup of tea, and then suddenly he looked up to find me watching him. He smiled, a sweet, little smile, and mouthed softly 'I love you.'

And then I knew what I had to do, what my choice was going to be. After struggling so much trying to find a solution, once I realized what my choice was I was startled by its simplicity, and the soft calmness its knowledge filled me with.

So, the next morning I woke him up with a kiss, slowly and lovingly bringing him back to the world of the living, and lazily made love to him. We bickered in our way to breakfast, and once there I remembered our most common argument, the one about house-elves, and seeing his bright smile I couldn't deny him the happiness he was feeling, so I just kept on walking until we reached the kitchens and quietly we both started cooking. We sometimes glanced at each other, sappy smiles hanging from our lips. Once we sat at the table, surrounded by a copious meal, I put my hand over his and started my confession.

'Harry, love, we have to talk.' His eyes found mine in alarm for a moment, and then turned calm once more as he waited for my words, sipping his morning tea. 'I have been trying to decide something for the last couple of months. You see, when we first got together I meant to destroy you, to utterly annihilate you. But I also wanted to feel you, to see you smile, to feel that warmth you always speak about, that –that love, I guess. And, yesterday, I made up my mind.' His face went through a myriad of emotions, changing so fast even I couldn't tell them apart. When I took a deep breath and looked into his clear, emerald eyes, he once more settled for a calm attentiveness, his head tilted as he studied my own face. 'I don't want to see you destroyed, not anymore. I do not wish to see you weeping. I –I think I love you.' I muttered, averting my own gaze as his eyes burned brighter.

He extended his hand, reaching to me, and then the poison took effect and his heart stopped.

I stared at him for a while, quietness and calmness my only companions, and then pried the cup from his hand and washed it with a simple household charm. The last thing I wanted was for the aurors to find out I had killed their leader. I leaned over him, feeling I owed him an explanation, and muttered lovingly:

'But I still want to see you dead.'

So, that's all. I'm really all for Drarry, but I felt like writing a slightly darker one than the ones (absolutely fluffy) I use to read. Hum...sorry?