Two hurt little Boys

The goal has always been simple, crystal clear: defeat Voldemort, save the world I love. And then what? Then life will return to normal, people won't have to fear for their lives, live in uncertainty. But I've really never asked myself: what comes after?

"Piss off mudblood."

People like that…would follow anybody. And I watch Vincent do another impersonation of Hermoine. I wish he wouldn't.

Why does she have to stare at me in disgust? It's not like I can do anything about it. He's not my friend, I bloody hate him Hermione. But Ron too shakes his head and turns away to their cauldron.

You pat me on the back, whisper a soothing word in my ear, but it's not enough. It's not enough because I know it doesn't change anything. No matter how many friendships I break over you, you're still a hoax, still a sleaze, still drawn to power like a blinded moth.

"Harry, why? Why … bloody Malfoy."

And Ron shouts at me in the courtyard, pacing it up and down, telling me to leave you. Telling me you're not worth it. But he doesn't know how vulnerable you are at night, how you cried in the dark, and yelled. And how shocked you were when you woke up in my arms for the first time. I still remember, still have the mark to prove it…some scars don't go away Draco.

Ron wasn't there when I confided my fears to you.

But still he's right. I doubt that you really love me, I doubt that you'll ever do.

Love, who needs love? How stupid, you say. You say it's not about love, it's just survival. It makes me wonder what would have become of me if you weren't my roommate. What would have happened if you hadn't cried at night, and begrudgingly accepted my touches? You probably don't believe that I would rather die than use those nights against you. Still, even now, despite all we've been through, you're still fearing betrayal.

So Draco, I repeat to you this: no matter what happens, I'll never leave you. We don't have to be close, we don't have to be friends, but I won't forget the kindness you've shown me. Never.

"His father is a Death Eater, did you know?"

Ron, why do you have to…

"Because you're going the wrong way Harry! He's dragging you down, he's going to kill you."

You don't know him, I say, and realize how silly it sounds.

"I don't have to. He's a bloody Malfoy, for Christ's sake!"

Isn't that equally judgmental as calling Hermione a mudblood?

And now I know I've lost Ron. His eyes are wide, nose wrinkled, he takes his broom and leaves. And part of me knows he is right, tells me to fly after him, to make up, and then…then what? Leave Slytherin? Because the fact still remains that I need you, need to drink you like a drug. That otherwise I'd rather kill myself than set another foot inside the Dungeons.


A/N: Thank you for reviewing Mainki, hope it didn't disappoint. And, thank you for faving Dark Angel!

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