Look at that! Chapter two already up! Withing minutes of each other! I'm good... lies.
Harry 1:
I knew this was stupid. I knew that the class was alohomora-proof. I knew the answer to all the questions I was asking Malfoy. I only wanted to talk. I hate him, I do. But I hate being alone more. No…no, I'm lying. I don't hate Malfoy, (though I do hate being alone). I like him, in fact. He's an asshole… a really huge asshole, but he's so handsome. He has this strange alluring feeling to him, and his eyes are a beautiful ash grey that pulls you into them, almost like an abyss. I want to be held by him, in those arms that grew to such a nice size in just a year. His hair was a little longer, his arrogance just a little haughtier. I knew any kind of relationship was impossible, but just listening to his voice comforted me.
The only problem: I felt the same way about a different boy as well. Cedric Diggory. In the Tri-Wizard tournament last year, he was injured. Horribly. He was in a coma until just two months ago and the reason he was injured was me. He protected me. I had felt the kindling of a fire before then, when I had first began to take notice of him at the beginning of the tournament, but it was at that moment that it engulfed me. He didn't wear a pin though it was for him the rest did. He stood up for me when I was walking down the hall ignoring his friends. I turned the corner and rested on the wall. Pretending I couldn't hear the ghastly things being said about me, I peeked out and saw Cedric come out of the lavatory. He gripped one of his friends tightly on the shoulder and squeezed.
"Potter didn't put his name in the Goblet. Quiet down and deal with it," he said.
"How do you know?" They asked, practically in unison. I hung my head and leaned against the wall again.
"He told me he hadn't. I believe him." It was quiet for a few seconds. "Besides, you have to be as crazy as me to put your name in there and I'm pretty sure The Boy Who Lived is smarter than that," he laughed. Humor always lightened a crowd and he knew where to use it, where to take it, when to stop. He was just that good.
His blonde hair captured me and I knew there was something wrong with me: I'm attracted to blondes. From my first year Malfoy had attracted me. The way he thought he owned the world, the way his emotions fluctuated depending on what I did to him and his cronies. His hair was the first thing I liked about him though. Cedric too. I first noticed his hair, then his smile, then his body. Then when he talked, his voice filled my head with honey. And when he touched me, my body shivered.
Malfoy's eyes were watching me. I must have been making weird faces. He came closer to me and I rested my arms on the desks either side of me.
"What are you thinking about?"
I looked up at him over my glasses. Malfoy was interested in what I was thinking? Really? Hm, now that was new. "Problems that a rich boy would never understand." Damn it, why do I always do this?
He smirked. My face faltered. When I replied to Malfoy with a snide remark, he would get angry and try to come up with something in return.
"I'm bored, Potter. Fill me in," he said. I think my mouth opened with shock because he turned from me and pulled out his handkerchief. "Wipe yourself," he told me.
I took it gently and dabbed the sides of my mouth and chin. Yes, I had dropped my jaw. Was it necessary? No. I gave the handkerchief back to him.
"Well?" he asked, his hand out to receive the item. He was serious. I shook my head.
"I lied."
A questioning look came over his face as he put the piece of cloth back. "About what?"
I moved my arms to one desk and rested my head on my folded arms. "I lied about what I was thinking. If I told you I think I'd kill myself."
He sat in the desk next to mine and crossed his feet. Why was he so goddamn elegant? "Now you have to tell me. We have all night Harry, what more could we do."
I opened my mouth to prove him wrong, but instead nodded. "I was… you just… called me Harry…"
"Don't get too happy, Potter. It's only for now. Why not? You don't seem to mind much."
I looked down at his feet again and sighed. He was right, I didn't mind. In fact, I quite enjoyed it. I drew in a bigger breath and watched his chest move up and down calmly. Why was I about to say what I was about to say?
"Kiss me."
Hey, Yuko. You thinking : "What the hell" yet? If not then I need to work on it, huh?