The Last Piece

by Spideria

Draco tells of his past and how he found the love of his life in his 7th year. Draco drinks a potion that tells him who his true love is. Can you guess who it is? HPDM R&R! Complete

3. Jealousy

Ok, no, I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters from the Harry Potter book series.

I would like to thank all of my reviewers! They were very inspirational! Especially since they got even better for the 2nd chapter which means I have written the 2nd chapter better.

Okay, first off, I would like to answer the questions I got in my review. I am truly very sorry, but no, there will not be Harry's POV in this story because unfortunately , This is Draco telling everything in a story form and if I include Harry's POV it would ruin the ending that I have all planned out already, please do not stop reading my story just because of this reason : (.

Second, for people who ask for more story, I really appreciate it! When you ask me to hurry with my chapters, it really makes me feel wanted. LOL. I really appreciate all my reviews!

Third, for those of you who are guessing that Draco is Harry's true love, I cannot answer you, you'll just have to read along, and if you change your mind during this chapter, then let me know! : )

Now on with the story!

Chapter 2: Jealousy



I couldn't believe that all of a sudden, the famous Harry Potter whom I'd
always hated was suddenly the love of my life! I mean, now that it was a
definite thing, I could understand why I was attracted to him.


I wanted to stare at Harry's features immediately at a close range, so right
after dinner I rushed up to my Head Boy dorm room and slammed my trunk open.

I threw all of my belongings out of my trunk and around the room in search
for my target item.


And then I found it! It was a Dailey Prophet edition with Harry on the front
cover that I had saved. It was a picture of Harry when he had won Gryffindor
the Quidditch Cup. I had kept it to throw darts at it in anger and envy.


It was old, worn out, and had dozens of holes, marking the spots where I had
thrown countless darts at Harry's face.


Now, however, I didn't want the picture to throw more darts at it in
frustration, now, I wanted it so that I could closely examine Harry's
beautiful angel-like face.


"Reparo," I whispered (although there really wasn't any need for
whispering, for this was my private room and no one else was around).


In a quick instant, the front cover with Harry's face on it repaired itself
of all holes, and the yellowish, worn out color to the newspaper clipping
suddenly turned a magnificent shade of brand new white.


But this hadn't been good enough for me. The picture was in black and white
and I wanted to see my beautiful Harry in color: to see his full red lips,
his vivid, gleaming, gorgeous, bright green eyes, and his rosy, red cheeks from
the cold wind blowing around his lithe form.


So I had gone through my charms book and found a charm that brought colors to pictures. I cut out everything around the picture of Harry, but still
didn't think it was right yet. It had been much too small for my liking, and
so, I had cast an engorgement charm on it.

It was now 1 foot tall and 6 inches wide, and it was a close up of Harry
above the gleaming faces of the rest of the Gryffindor team, sitting on the
two Weasleys' shoulders, holding the Quidditch Cup high above himself.


Yet, there had been something that still wasn't perfect about the picture,
but I just couldn't quite figure it out at the moment.





***************************************************




Days later, still having only Harry on my mind, I was laying on my bed,
dressed in silk black pajamas, my head propped up by three fluffy, green
pillows with silver linings on each.


And just guess what I was staring at.



It was the picture of Harry wining the Quidditch Cup, which I had just
recently placed in a mahogany wood frame. (I had figured out that that was
the imperfection that had been missing from the picture before).


I stared at his beautiful, fun-loving features; his brilliant green eyes,
hidden behind adorable, black, round, thin-framed glasses. Most people would
think that the glasses were geeky-looking, but I just thought that it made
him look more innocent and child-like.


Next, was his smile, it was happy and gleeful and all his teeth shone bright
white, indicating VERY good hygiene. And then came his adorable nose; not too
pointy, not too flat. Not too big, not too little. (Well, thanks for the
help, Goldilocks).


And then there was also his messy hair that played beautifully around his
features. And the best thing of it all was that Harry had not changed nor
matured much since his 3rd year, and so, this was exactly what Harry had
looked like at that moment.


Still brave and reckless. I smiled to myself as I saw the picture of Harry
smile and wave at me, pointing at his Quidditch Cup trophy with pure
happiness, and then I realized that I had never smiled, a real genuine
smile, for anyone else before.


This was the one thing I could not handle. I could not handle myself around
Harry. I could not control any of my feelings when it came to Harry. I could
not hide them and cover them with an emotionless mask when it came to my
raven-haired angel.


I shook my head and changed my smile to my usual Malfoy smirk. I placed the picture frame back onto my bedside table and fell asleep within the next 7 minutes.




****************************************************




The next morning was Saturday, and so, there were no classes to attend to. I
turned over in my bed and looked over at my bedside table. At first I began
to stare at the picture frame of Harry (as I did every morning ever since
I'd gotten the picture out of my trunk) but then averted my gaze to my alarm
clock.



I hadn't set the alarm, of course, because it was the weekend. The clock
read 9:34 a.m.



I wondered, for a moment, if Harry woke up early on weekends. Or was he the type of sleeper that liked to stay in bed until noon? I very highly doubted
that. He just didn't seem the type, and neither was I.


I slowly and sleepily, yet still somewhat gracefully dragged my feet and the
rest of my body to the bathroom. I turned the water taps of the shower on
and then slowly began to shed my clothes off.


I stepped into the shower and felt the flowing water wash over my head and
then the rest of my body. I grabbed the soap bottle and then squeezed the
green liquid onto my sponge, and began to rub over my body.


I sighed, as I finished washing, with a feeling of cleanliness.

I hate the sticky feeling I always wake up with during warm weather. I also
hate the taste of my mouth in the morning, all germy. I then squeezed the
vanilla scented shampoo onto my hair and scrubbed, when suddenly, a sudden
thought dawned on me.


I had been so preoccupied with the love of MY life (Harry) that I had
completely forgotten all about the love of Harry's life.



Who could it be?


Perhaps, maybe, it was me. I mean, had it been my imagination, or hadn't
Harry given me an almost desiring look the other day when we had crashed
into each other?



I sighed.


He couldn't-no-wouldn't ever love me. I was too-"damn it!"I yelled aloud. I
had been so deep into my thoughts that I had completely forgotten about the
shampoo soap on my head that had drizzled down into my eye while I was
thinking.


It was burning and stinging my eye like hell while I squirmed underneath the
warm water, trying desperately to get the shampoo out of my eye.


My right eye.


Then... I saw it, a quick movement of a flowing cloak. I stood still for a few intense moments, but nothing else happened. I shook my head, disbelievingly and muttered, "I'm just being paranoid."


I finished with the conditioner and turned the taps off. I then grabbed a
towel, dried myself, then wrapped it around my waist and rushed over to the
sink, (where my toothbrush and toothpaste lay, waiting for me to use them to
brush my teeth) eager to brush my teeth and get the germy feeling out.


As I brushed my teeth, I stared into the mirror, and saw from my reflection,
that my right eye was red and a little swollen from my rubbing and the
shampoo. I spit out the toothpaste suds and rinsed my mouth.


I opened the door to my room to change into clothes and jumped about a foot
in the air.

"Pansy! What the hell are you doing here!? More importantly, HOW did you get here!?"


She smiled at me from my bed and answered, "You'd be surprised by what a
little flirting with a picture can do these days."


"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. So let me get this straight. Do you mean to
say, you flirted with the wizard picture of my bedroom to give you my
password?"


"No... not exactly," Pansy replied. "He wouldn't give me the password. But
he DID let me in. He said that giving the password was against the rules."


"I'm going to murder that picture," I muttered under my breathe and made a
mental note to tell Snape to change my painting. "By the way, you look very
sexy, Draco."


I glared at her as I realized I was still only dressed in my towel. I cursed
under my breath and stalked over to my closet wardrobe and picked out a
green silk shirt and black dress pants.


As I looked at them, something occurred to me; I was dressed like Harry!


I mean, not like the clothes he wore, oh no, mine were of much higher class,
but my shirt was green like his eyes and my pants were black like that of his
hair.

I know, I'm a psycho, but what can I say, love can really change a person.
Love. I loved Harry!


Suddenly, I realized something. I gasped aloud. My framed picture of Harry
was right on my bedside table, facing Pansy! The only reason she hadn't seen
it yet was because she was too busy goggling at my muscle-toned
stomach. (Lucky me)


I suddenly began to panic as she was starting to turn her head to become
face-to-face with the frame of Harry and shouted the first diversion that
came to my mind, " Oh my goodness! Pansy! I think you have a zit on your
face!"



Now I know it sounds gay now, but at the time, I felt like I would never
forget those words for saving my butt, because they worked, and I still
haven't forgotten those words.


The distraction worked (obviously) as she gasped and clasped her hands to
cover her entire face, as she didn't know where the imaginary zit was. "Oh,
you better check that out in my bathroom mirror! Go, go, go!" I shouted.


The stupid girl actually raced to the bathroom as I quickly rolled over my
bed and quickly stuffed the picture frame of Harry into my bedside table
drawer.


She came out, just moments later, saying, "Draco, honey, there is nothing on
my face." I gave a sarcastic smile and answered, {Oh, so sorry."


"Anyway," I began, "You never answered my question."What do you mean. I told you already, I flirted with the pic-"

"No, I interrupted. "I know HOW you got here, but I also asked you what you were doing here. What do you want?"


"Oh, well, actually, I was wondering. You remember when you took the
Lotrution potion? You never told me who your true love was. You just raced
out of the dungeons."


I felt like slapping her across the face. Who did she think she was...
asking me a personal question like that. I never intruded into HER personal
life. Besides, did she actually think it was her, that SHE was my true
love!?


I think not!


As if I would ever even consider-and then it occurred to me that the way she
felt about me was the same way about Harry, and how would I feel if I were
letting Harry know that I liked him and then he just shoved me away, quite
rudely, as I usually did to Pansy?


I took an EXTREMELY deep breath let it out and then said, "Listen
Pansy, I don't mean to sound rude or anything, but that's really personal
and I'd rather not tell. So I'm sorry, but if that's the only reason you
came up here then you should probably leave because-" Just as I was about to
make some excuse to shoo her away, she cut me of with her annoyingly
high-pitched, squeaky voice.



"Oh, Draco, I understand, that IS very personal, I suppose." she said,
although she looked quite disappointed, but she continued speaking
nonetheless. "But I was also sent here by Professor Snape. He said to tell
you that we were having a Head Boy and Girl meeting tonight at 7:00 at the
usual meeting room."(Pansy was the Head Girl of Slytherin)

The usual meeting room was a special room Dumbledore made specifically for our meetings. I nodded my head and proceeded to shoo Pansy away.


I got dressed in the clothes I had chosen and went about the rest of the
day, anticipating the meeting. For Harry was the Head of Gryffindor and I
would get to sit closer to him than usual due to the fact that the table
wasn't very large because it was only meant to carry 13 people.



( 13; the bad luck number, also my favorite number. And don't forget, first
one to stand up is the next to die. "Said by professor Trelawney." Lol)



The 13 people who attended the meetings were Albus Dumbledore, the Head Boy and Girl from each house, and the head professor of each house. Do the math
and you will get 13 people.



Finally, it was time for the meeting and I was the 2nd person to arrive.(Dumbleore had been first). I waited quietly as the others entered the room.


I had already seated myself to the right of Dumbledore, hoping against hope
that Harry would come sit next to me, in hope of sitting close to Dumbleore,
but as luck would have it, Pansy tried to sit next to me instead, but luckily for me, Snape sat to my right before she could get across the room
to me.

Harry ended up sitting at the opposite end of the table from me.

The Mudblood (who you may have already guessed was the Head Girl of
Gryffindor) was seated to the right of him and was saying something.
Apparently, it had been a joke of some sort because Harry burst out into
fits of laughter, which he was trying to cover up.


I suddenly felt angry.



Why could the Mudblood make him laugh when I couldn't? But I mean real
laughter, the only times I ever made him laugh were when I got him so mad he had to laugh to stop himself from punching my head off so that he wouldn't
get detention.



Sometimes even when he felt a sort of pity for me, which always had gotten
me extremely aggravated.


"Ahem," Dumbledore had cleared his throat. "Today's meeting has been called for the modifying of a few school rules for the benefit of..." But that was all I heard.


I spent the rest of the entire meeting focusing on Harry and that annoying
Mudblood. They kept smiling when they heard a rule change for the better and shared many glances with each other, too many.


Then, something hit me... what if the Mudblood was Harry's true love?


At first, when I thought about this, I was hit with a pang of hurt and
sadness, but then, I felt something else...something different... something new.




Finally, the meeting ended 1 hour later, and I watched quite angrily as
Harry and the Mudblood walked out of the room together, laughing jubilantly
for some reason or another.

It was as I reached my Head Boy dorm a few minutes later that I realized
what this new feeling was. It was jealousy. I was jealous.




......Jealousy

1.

A/N okay, I really hope you like this chapter! It took me FOREVER to type down and I even made a few changes so that you would all like it. Please review. And I'm really very sorry for writing the word, "Mudblood" so much. I felt so horrible to be writing it so often, But as Draco would call her that, I had to. Please review! Thank you!

~Spideria