The next day, Draco didn't mention anything to his parents despite their inquiring looks, nor did he mention anything to Pansy when she asked if he'd 'sorted things out'.
"Unfortunately, I figured out one thing only to have it complicate the rest," he'd replied.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" she'd asked, but judging by the distracted rifling through her bag, she already knew his answer.
"No, thank you," he said anyway, but that didn't mean he wouldn't keep thinking about it. 'Brooding', as Pansy had taken to calling it.
Was he attracted to Harry? A resounding yes.
Could he act on it? A horny maybe.
Should he act on it? A unanimous no.
He would be sending Harry mixed signals, for one, because he most definitely was not in love with the delusional, werewolf-wannabe, but also because Draco's pride wouldn't have it. Not after Harry's rejection all those years ago, despite his newfound confession. Not after Harry had treated him like some wanton piece of meat to devour. Not after Harry had obviously seen Draco's unwanted, positive reactions to said attentions.
He'd said no, and now he had to stick to it. He couldn't have Harry convincing him otherwise, because he couldn't have the younger man knowing how easily Draco could be, with a few more dirty confessions and perhaps some more roughing around.
Draco groaned in agony, burying his head in his hands.
"When did things get so fucked up?" he moaned.
Pansy pet his hair soothingly, despite her tight lip suggesting just what she thought about his complaints.
"I love you, you know that?" he mumbled tiredly as her skilled fingers had him almost melting.
"I know," she sighed.
The rest of the school day past in something of a blur of pondering and agonizing with a brief lunch break before he returned to more agonizing.
No, he would not sexually pursue Harry.
No, he would not allow Harry to continue to sexually or romantically pursue him.
No, he would not allow himself to be convinced of anything.
No, he did not believe in this werewolf bullshit.
No, he... did not know Harry anymore, it seemed.
The answer to everything was no, he continued to reassure himself, and this is what got him through the day.
And then it was time to head home. When the bell rang, signaling the end of the day, Draco could have cried. Christ, he needed a nap or something.
His phone went off, and he considered ignoring it in favor of hastening the trip to his car, which would therefore get him home and into bed faster, but acknowledged it could be an emergency.
It was just Pansy, asking if we wanted to come over.
Draco replied with an affirmative, because Pansy would let him nap at her house with the additional benefit of cuddling him while he did so, which was always nice. And, her parents made the best mini quiche Draco had ever had the pleasure of tasting, and every time he came over, there was a slight chance they would make them again.
"You just want to nap?" she laughed, sliding under his arm as they walked.
"I like holding you while I sleep," he told her, and it was true.
She blushed a bit, smiling at him. "You're weird, you know that?"
However, as they strolled to Draco's car, they were startled to a stop to see someone already slouched against it.
Bloody fuck.
"I thought I told you I didn't want to see you again," Draco said.
Harry blinked at him. "I told you I would keep an eye on you today."
"I don't need it."
"You don't know what you need," Harry replied, eyes dark.
Draco felt his temper flare, faster than ever before.
"And you do?" Pansy inquired, speaking up, Draco assumed, because she could feel him nearly quaking with rage. "Harry Potter, was it?"
Harry stared her down. "Pansy Parkinson."
Pansy raised her nose at him, and though Draco would — despite everything — despise anyone else who did that to Harry, when Pansy did it in his defense, he felt nothing but pride.
"Draco's staying with me today," Pansy told him matter-of-factly.
"No, he's not," Harry replied calmly. "He's staying with me, because as we discussed yesterday, I'm doing this for him. If he knows what's best, he'll get it over with."
Draco was suddenly hearing all the key words. Harry was implying that if Draco spent today with him, Harry would leave him alone afterwards? Last night, Harry had spoken of some ambiguous group, some 'they' who would be after him tonight due to the full moon. Werewolves, he'd claimed, because the moonlight gave them a visual advantage.
All of it was absolute bullshit, of course, but there wouldn't be a full moon tomorrow, not one until next month.
"Wait, Pans," Draco said.
Pansy looked at him disbelievingly. "You're serious?" she asked, sounding and looking insulted, as though he'd chosen Harry over her.
Draco glowered at Harry, and then looked to Pansy. "I owe him," Draco lied, "and I said we'd do this today, so I should just do it, or he'll keep harassing me." Draco peered down his nose at Harry, as though he were gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe. "He doesn't have any manners, you see."
Pansy sent Harry a similarly displeased look. "I can tell. You shouldn't hang out with the likes of him, Draco. I don't know what you owe him, but wrap it up. You know what they say about him..."
And with that, Pansy kissed his cheek — making it linger, as she side-eyed Harry — and took off.
Draco grumpily made his way over to his car, ignoring Harry as he started the engine and buckled up, pulling into reverse and backing out of the spot before Harry had even fully shut the door.
"You didn't tell her it was you who started the rumors," Harry said.
"Why would I have?" Draco asked blandly, eyes on the road.
"I thought you felt bad," Harry said, watching him, and Draco was thrown for a loop.
Sometimes, Harry was like the old Harry — a little shy, a little unsure, and very odd. Stares a little too much, doesn't blink as often as he should. And sometimes, Harry was the football star, the charismatic, can-function-like-a-normal-human-being-without-being-slightly-creepy guy who, just yesterday, had been trying to convince Draco that he was a werewolf.
And then there was the aggressive Harry, who bruised his neck with his teeth and tongue, who spoke those vile words and openly admitted to wanting Draco, to wanting to do things to Draco...
The blond wondered who the real Harry was, which one was an act, if any of them were. Maybe Harry Potter had gone all multiple-personalities while they weren't friends.
This was the old Harry, the one Draco knew how to handle, who stared at Draco unwaveringly as he drove — either unafraid of a crash (with his supposed werewolfishness) or too trusting.
"I did," Draco admitted, grudgingly honest, "but part of me believed you'd come crawling back when you realized you couldn't find a better friend than myself. I didn't tell Pansy because I was waiting for you to come back."
"You're the reason everyone else left me."
"Yes, but you left me," Draco said simply, feeling angry all over again for no good reason that he could discern, "I didn't leave you. You still could have come back."
"You wouldn't have let me back," Harry said, turning to watch the road, finally.
Draco flexed his fingers on the steering wheel, because Harry was right, and Draco didn't like that Harry could still read him so easily.
"I know," he said, frustrated with himself, a bit. "I don't know what I wanted."
"You never know what you want, really," Harry said, and Draco wasn't sure if he meant that in a general manner, or specifically to Draco.
"Submission, maybe," Draco wondered aloud, and it sounded right. He wanted to have Harry at his mercy. To have Harry crawl back, and then to reject him as Harry had done. To leave Harry stranded, and hurt, though part of Draco knew, no matter what, that Harry wouldn't have felt the keen sense of loss Draco did when Harry rejected him, even if his plan had worked out and Draco finally got to reject Harry. Because with Harry, it would have been a case of his last option deserting him, and with Draco, it had been a case of his best option, his most trusted and confided option, deserting him.
Draco now knew that it had been because Harry had loved him, supposedly, but that only left a bitter taste in his mouth because, in a way, that didn't forgive Harry, in his mind. He didn't know if he'd wanted Harry to confess to him — he wouldn't have reciprocated, just as he wouldn't now. They'd probably have grown apart anyway, after the hypothetical confession, and instead of the scathing comment about loyalty, it would have been something about Harry's sexuality, maybe, because after they both grew apart, Draco could still easily picture himself feeling a keen sense of loss, and being angry about it.
Was he any better than Diggory, really?
What did Harry see in him?
"Submission," Harry repeated belatedly, flatly, eyes ahead. "Is that what you want from me?"
"I don't want anything from you," Draco told him, "but I won't be the one to give, in this situation."
Harry stared at him, looking incredulous again. "When have you ever been the one to give?"
"You're here now, aren't you?"
"You ruined my life," Harry told him.
Draco's grip tightened again. Anger. Frustration. Guilt.
"You mean nothing to me," Draco reminded him, and pulled into his driveway.
They were silent as they left the car and trudged to the porch, where Draco let Harry in.
When they were inside, Harry said, "I'm sorry."
Draco stared at him.
"Sometimes..." Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Sometimes the wolf gets a hold of me, and I say things I don't mean to say. Out loud."
Draco wasn't sure what to make of this. Of Harry blaming his bizarre changes over the past few days on some 'wolf' in his head. Maybe he did have multiple personalities. Draco wasn't sure if he should feel endangered. He didn't, because it was Harry, and despite everything, Draco didn't seriously think Harry would ever hurt him, but he did offhandedly consider calling the police. Maybe the hospital. The pound? Werewolf over here would find that hilarious, surely.
"You don't believe me," Harry said more than asked, reading Draco's rather bland expression.
"If you can transform into a wolf, why don't you show me?" Draco asked instead, leaning against a wall and propping his shoulder against it. He reclined and crossed one leg over the other.
"It wouldn't be safe. I'm less in control, as a wolf," Harry said.
"I'm not scared of you," Draco told him, and it was true.
Harry barked out a laugh. "I know," he said, and for some reason, that assuredness, as though he'd never thought otherwise, filled Draco with... something. Something warm.
"So?"
"So, I'm not worried about attacking you, so much as other things."
Draco raised an eyebrow, scrutinizing him, because he got the impression Harry would have ducked his head again, had they been having this conversation years ago. He wasn't sure why.
"Other things?" he repeated, and Harry's discomfort finally showed as he flushed a bit.
"You know. Animal crap."
"Animal-"
"Peeing," Harry blurted, looking faintly mortified. "I don't want to mark the place up because, at the time, it seems like a good idea. Or hump your leg, or something. I don't know. I've never transformed around someone I liked, before."
For some reason, Draco's attention caught on the less embarrassing parts. "So you've transformed around other people." Why did that thought bother him?
"Of course," Harry said. "My pack, for one. Dudley knows, I'm pretty sure, though he hasn't talked to me about it in, erm, person."
Draco wasn't sure how he felt about all of this new information. "Your pack," he repeated.
Harry nodded and, for once, a smile filtered over his face. "Yeah, they're great. When I first transformed, I was terrified — obviously. But, when they found me and accepted me as one of their own, it was like the family I never had. That I never knew I was looking for..."
Jealousy. Why, oh why, was he so bloody jealous?
Half of him was happy. Elated, really. Dudley's parents treated Harry like shit, and so did Draco and the rest of their goddamn school. When he first transformed — if Draco decided he believed all this crap — Harry must have felt incredibly lost. But now, Harry finally had a family, a group of nutters like himself so he could finally feel accepted.
The other half of him, however, was pissed that Harry didn't want him as family, that Harry hadn't felt this way about him.
No, Harry just wanted to bone him. What did Harry even think his feelings were? There was no fucking way he loved Draco. Not after everything.
Draco shook his head, trying to clear it. "Sure. Sure," he said, trying to ground himself. "Do you and your werewolf friends meet up often? Any Lycanthropes Anonymous meetings I should be aware of?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Funny. And we meet up almost every day. Our base of operations is that waffle house? You know the one. On Main street?"
Draco almost laughed. Yes, everyone knew the waffle café. The fact that Harry and his werewolf friends met up there was just... hilarious. A little gay, too.
Harry rolled his eyes again. "I can practically hear your thoughts."
"Funny," Draco drawled, "you haven't left my sight yet."
With a pointed look and a dramatic sigh at the suddenly unresponsive man, Draco trekked up to his bedroom where he deposited his bag. Luckily, Harry had more sense than to try and follow him.
Draco leaned back against his bedroom door, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. Christ, he was going to get high blood pressure or something from this bastard.
###
Thank you guys so so so much for all the kind comments! I love hearing what you guys think/want to see from these two~
I really wanted to write a story where Draco was just... kind of an asshole. Like, he's not a wretched person, but he's not really a good one, either. Idk, I've always been drawn to flawed characters, or the antagonists, so I was really excited to write Draco as so toxic. I feel like it makes them a bit more real when they're a bit unpredictable, but still in-character, if that makes sense?
Anyway, I have 60+ pages typed so far, and I think I'm nearing the end. I haven't quite typed that out yet, however, so I hope I can stay driven and actually finish a story for once, haha.
Don't worry though! 8 chapters are already typed and waiting to be uploaded if you guys show enough interest/want me to continue this.
