Why does he even care? He's getting what he wants from me regardless, isn't he? I'm still serving my purpose for him. I don't know how often I've tried to understand him. To understand what it is that drives him and makes him act the way he does. I used to know. I used be quite clear on his feelings, as was everybody in school. His feelings were blind hate and malice, contempt toward me, famous me. I think we understood each other better when we were enemies.
Things are so much different when people become lovers, I guess. I mean that's what you'd call it, right? Being lovers. Even if love has nothing to do with it.
Somehow...somehow his hate -no, our hate- became more than just abhorrence. Hating takes time, effort, and deep passion. I suppose somewhere along the line that passion became lust. Only, my lust grew to a love and attachment that I had never felt before...and his turned to jealousy. A blind rage that mars everything we ever could've had. He has no reason. No reason at all. If he was jealous because he cared, then I would understand. But he's jealous because he's selfish, and a bit mad, I'd say. Always keeping claims on what is "his." Never bothering to ask what "his" wants.
Even if he knew what I wanted, it wouldn't make a difference. What I want is something he can't give. Something that is far beyond the reach of a Malfoy. Something I'm sure, and almost hope, he'll never experience. Something that goes beyond talking, touching, kissing, and fucking.
Before Draco, I managed to find brief flings here and there, well everywhere I guess, all over the school. Nothing ever lasted longer than a night. I enjoyed things that way. But after him...I knew I would never have that freedom again. He had taken a hold on me, in a way I had never expected. Before him, I would look for fun, a randy good time, nothing more than a way to ebb my cravings and get on with the next day. He was the first person who showed a reckless abandon when it came to me. He wanted me in a way I had never seen before, and unfortunately for me, I took his want and lust for my body and the rights to say he "had Harry Potter" for a want and lust for me, as a person.
After him, I needed something else. I needed him, in a sick way I still can't even fathom. Yet, as I ached for his touch, I yearned for more. More than he is capable of giving. Affection. The one thing he couldn't, and still can't, find in himself to give me. I suppose that's why I wandered off to find it from somebody else.
* * *
Everybody knew Justin Finch-Fletchley had an obsession with me. I don't think anybody thought it went beyond anything but a bad case of hero worship. I also don't think they ever knew how wrong they were.
He had simply asked me to help him with a small problem he was having doing his homework from Professor Sprout's class. I should've wondered why on earth he didn't just ask Hermione, but I suppose I have a habit of failing to notice the obvious. We had decided to meet under a tree, not too far off from Hagrid's hut, on the outskirts of the school grounds. The wind whipped at our hair as we sat under the cool shade of the tree, and we got straight to business. I won't say I was uncomfortable around Justin, but I always felt strange. I was used to people knowing my name, but revering me was a completely different feeling.
We were standing up, getting ready to head back to the castle when he laid it on me. It was so sudden; I'm not sure how I quite recovered quick enough to rest my open palm against the trunk of the tree to keep myself from falling over. Immediately, he started stammering apologies. I was taken aback by his nervousness. The way he was worried about what I was going to do. The opposite of the way I usually felt.
"Justin, no, stop. It's okay...you just surprised me is all."
I took a step away from the tree and moved toward him, laying my hand lightly on his shoulder. He feigned a small smile and glanced up at me, nodding slightly. I noticed his eyes...they had a warmth so shocking, I almost wanted to collapse into his arms right there. His eyes were light and soft, they were friendly and he looked at me as a person. A person.
"I-I-I just...well I didn't mean...I"- Placing my other hand on the opposite shoulder, I gave him a light shake and shook my head, before lightly returning the kiss. It had been a while since I had felt this way. The kiss was void of the usual hot, burning desire that flooded through my veins. But what it lacked in intensity, it made up in tenderness. A feeling I hadn't bothered to think about in a long time. On top of that, it was something I wasn't entirely powerless against.
He was blushing quite furiously as we made our way back to the school. He was muttering inaudible sentences the whole while up there, and it remained an unspoken agreement that we wouldn't mention the incident to anybody. Neither of us had made plans for it to happen, and we didn't make plans for it to happen again, I particularly decided this was for the best. As I made my way back into the common room I was already feeling guilty about it. I think this was the first time I realized just how in over my head I was. That a mere kiss of another would be poison to what I had with Draco. As much as I was trying to fight it, I needed it, and I decided then and there, it would be the last kiss I shared with anybody else.
If only. Justin and I met again, and again. Never beyond kissing and cuddling, mind you, but it was disastrous nonetheless. The day Draco caught us...I thought for sure that was the end of it.
I tell you, the pain he caused me that day, not just the physical, but the emotional feelings that went through me were enough to last a person a single lifetime. A single glance from him can do more to me than most people can do with their wands. I got plenty of it that time. He yelled at, glared at, pushed, and hurt me, all at the same time. He had meant to stop me, but he only drove me further.
I only met with Justin once more; I didn't want to think about what Draco would do to him if he ever found out exactly who he was. But there were others. Many others. Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and admittedly Gryffindor. But of course, there would only ever be one Slytherin. I was careless. Careless and stupid. Nothing gets passed Draco. As much as I hate it, he really is aware of everything that takes place in the school. He knew. And he gets so mad...so blind with fury. Hell hath no fury like a Malfoy scorned.
Apologizing never did as much as I had hoped. Of course, it worked to begin with. But after ten or twelve times, he started to realize I wasn't honest. I'm sure he had realized before then, God only knows why it took him so long to finally lose it. He would yell at me, hit me, and take me. It was just the way it was. Each time worse than the last. And every time he did, every single time, I became more determined not to mess up again. And at the same time, I craved more affection. I wanted somebody; I needed somebody, to hold me. To kiss my bruises and heal my wounds. To caress my soiled skin and lick the blood from my lips.
It only ever went beyond kisses once. One time. In all honesty, it wasn't that great, but it was different. After we were through, he held me, and kissed the back of my neck. He rubbed my shoulders and whispered softly in my ear, gently laughing with his light Irish accent. He made me happy, made me feel it was right. In a way Draco had only done once before, during our first time. I guess after that, all formalities were off. I had been deemed property of his and he didn't have to make it nice for me. He just made sure it was nice for him.
* * *
I really am sorry. I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. My gift for eloquence only goes so far. It convinced him for a while, at least. Until it became obvious I was lying. The kisses he could forgive with the right persuasion, but this...I had gone much too far for him. I had really overstepped my boundaries this time. If only he knew he was the cause of it all. The cause of it everything: hate, anger, love, lust, suffering, insanity, desires, wants, and needs.
The center of my fucking universe.
I'm not sure exactly what he's planning for tonight, I can only rest assured it's not going to be anything I'm going to want to experience again. I absentmindedly rub my fingers across the raw skin of my still-sore knuckles as I walk down the cold, stone corridors. When I round the corner on my way to the dungeon, he's already there. He'd never seem the type, but he's quite punctual.
He'd be the type to open the door for you and pull out a chair for you, that is, after he beat the living crap out of you in the parking lot.
He stays silent but I know he sees me. Those cold, steel orbs of his give a small flicker as I come into his view. He's always happy to see me. Happy because he's finally going to be able to let me know exactly how he's feeling, even if it's not in words. Giving a small nod, he turns around and walks swiftly down the hall. I know to follow him, and I do...like a stupid dog on a leash. Before I know it, we're in an empty room that I've never seen before. I only know we must be quite far from where we began, as I can see the lake in the distance out of one of the broken windows that lines the empty walls.
Walking to one of the windows, he crosses his arms in front of him and stairs straight out. I don't have to see his face to know he's chewing his bottom lip. The pale moonlight pours in through the windows, just giving enough light for me to make out his form from across the room. I lean back against the wall, by the door. We both know there's no way I'd run away, but it's nice to put up a charade once in a while. After what seems like an eternity of blatant silence, he turns to face me. He mutters a simple incantation, and the door beside me locks itself as he takes slow steps toward me.
"Still as sorry as you were?" He arcs his brow with the light tilt of his head as he continues to walk toward me...Each step, echoing through the empty classroom. I swallow hard, and turn away from him, giving the lightest of nods. His footsteps are torture, slow and steady. He laughs, a shrill and vindictive laugh before he continues to vent. Each sentence louder than the last.
"Oh I'm soooooooo sorry, Draco! So sorry I'm such a slut, that I can't keep my hands to myself for more than a minute! So sorry that I do it over and over again just because I'm an easy lay. So sorry I don't care about anybody but myself!"
His voice is high as he mocks me, and I can hear his breathing as he finally gets close enough to touch me. His fingers, cold from the night air, but strangely soft as always, wind themselves down my cheek and along my jawbone. Before I have a chance to move, he reels back and slaps me hard across the face. The force knocks my glasses off and I can hear them clatter against the stone of the floor before sliding away. If I hadn't been so used to it, I probably would've cried out in pain, but I stayed silent, keeping my eyes squeezed shut.
"You know...you never know what you've got until it's gone. Maybe if I left right now, then you'd really be sorry?"
"No!" I shout before even thinking.
That's it, Harry, just give him the ammunition he needs. But it's true, we're connected in such a way that if he left...if he stopped being with me, I don't know how I'd go on. Sometimes I wonder how I managed before we met. He immediately smirks, and glides a hand back through his ruffled mass of golden locks, his gaze running slowly up and down my body in a way I can only describe as perverted.
"That's what I thought. I guess you're not as dumb as we all imagined." He gives a light shrug as his eyes meet mine. I just want it over. He always draws it out. I still don't know what he gets from all this, I just know I must be pretty good at giving it. Shaking his head, he steps closer to me and I find we're inches apart. He opens his mouth, for what's sure to be another jab at my already abused emotions. But before he has a chance to tell me how horrible I am, I get him to shut up in the only way I know how.
I'm on him liked a crazed animal. My lips press hard against his as my arms slip up and around his shoulders, pulling him into me. The kiss is sloppy as I grind my hips into his, just begging for him to take me. Offering myself in a way I just know will force him to do it. I feel the warmth of his palms, wedging their way between us as he slides his hands up to my chest. I let out a small sigh of relief; however, it's a bit too premature as his palms press hard against me.
I cry out in mild pain and shock, pulling my lips back from his. He's staring right through me, his eyes full of a fire I've never seen before. His fists grip my cloak and he pulls me toward him before slamming me back against the stones of the wall.
"You can't do that! That isn't how it works!" I hear the fabric of my clothing tear as I'm shoved against the wall again, a sob welling in the back of my throat. I stare up at him, confused, hurt, and absolutely terrified. He pushes himself against me, and I wonder if he sees the fear in my eyes. But I know...he sees. He sees and he doesn't care.
"You can't do whatever you damn well please, you know. You can't have everything you want. You can't!" His face is dangerously close to mine and I feel his breath on my skin, sending chills up my spine. I shut my eyes again, and hang my head, at a loss for words or actions. I can feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest as he keeps me pinned against the wall.
"It's not right! It's not fair!"
With each shout, I'm pressed harder against the wall. I can feel every point of every stone pushing into the flesh of my back. Whimpering, I open my eyes; I've got half the mind to cry right there and beg him to stop. But the look in his eyes stops me. The fury is gone, he's still enraged, there's no doubt about that, only...if I didn't know better, I'd say there was a glimmer of pain there. However, in a fleeting instant it's gone, replaced by the ridged glare I've seen one too many times. I open my mouth to stammer an apology, to beg for reconciliation.
But before I have a chance, I find myself being flung to the floor.
As I'm shoved aside like a dirty rag, he turns his back to me. He's hunched over, and by squinting, I can barely make out that his face is in his palms. The sudden urge to comfort him rushes over me, and I try to get to my feet. I must not be as quiet as I think, because the second I start to get up, he knows.
"Come one step closer to me, Potter, and so help me, you'll regret it."
It isn't the threat that keeps me quiet...it's the name. The name I hadn't heard spoken from those gorgeous lips in nearly seven months. It's not until the shock of it subsides, that I'm able to grab my cracked glasses from the floor and slip them on. Only then do I realize that I'm alone. Alone, and let off entirely too easy.
Things are so much different when people become lovers, I guess. I mean that's what you'd call it, right? Being lovers. Even if love has nothing to do with it.
Somehow...somehow his hate -no, our hate- became more than just abhorrence. Hating takes time, effort, and deep passion. I suppose somewhere along the line that passion became lust. Only, my lust grew to a love and attachment that I had never felt before...and his turned to jealousy. A blind rage that mars everything we ever could've had. He has no reason. No reason at all. If he was jealous because he cared, then I would understand. But he's jealous because he's selfish, and a bit mad, I'd say. Always keeping claims on what is "his." Never bothering to ask what "his" wants.
Even if he knew what I wanted, it wouldn't make a difference. What I want is something he can't give. Something that is far beyond the reach of a Malfoy. Something I'm sure, and almost hope, he'll never experience. Something that goes beyond talking, touching, kissing, and fucking.
Before Draco, I managed to find brief flings here and there, well everywhere I guess, all over the school. Nothing ever lasted longer than a night. I enjoyed things that way. But after him...I knew I would never have that freedom again. He had taken a hold on me, in a way I had never expected. Before him, I would look for fun, a randy good time, nothing more than a way to ebb my cravings and get on with the next day. He was the first person who showed a reckless abandon when it came to me. He wanted me in a way I had never seen before, and unfortunately for me, I took his want and lust for my body and the rights to say he "had Harry Potter" for a want and lust for me, as a person.
After him, I needed something else. I needed him, in a sick way I still can't even fathom. Yet, as I ached for his touch, I yearned for more. More than he is capable of giving. Affection. The one thing he couldn't, and still can't, find in himself to give me. I suppose that's why I wandered off to find it from somebody else.
* * *
Everybody knew Justin Finch-Fletchley had an obsession with me. I don't think anybody thought it went beyond anything but a bad case of hero worship. I also don't think they ever knew how wrong they were.
He had simply asked me to help him with a small problem he was having doing his homework from Professor Sprout's class. I should've wondered why on earth he didn't just ask Hermione, but I suppose I have a habit of failing to notice the obvious. We had decided to meet under a tree, not too far off from Hagrid's hut, on the outskirts of the school grounds. The wind whipped at our hair as we sat under the cool shade of the tree, and we got straight to business. I won't say I was uncomfortable around Justin, but I always felt strange. I was used to people knowing my name, but revering me was a completely different feeling.
We were standing up, getting ready to head back to the castle when he laid it on me. It was so sudden; I'm not sure how I quite recovered quick enough to rest my open palm against the trunk of the tree to keep myself from falling over. Immediately, he started stammering apologies. I was taken aback by his nervousness. The way he was worried about what I was going to do. The opposite of the way I usually felt.
"Justin, no, stop. It's okay...you just surprised me is all."
I took a step away from the tree and moved toward him, laying my hand lightly on his shoulder. He feigned a small smile and glanced up at me, nodding slightly. I noticed his eyes...they had a warmth so shocking, I almost wanted to collapse into his arms right there. His eyes were light and soft, they were friendly and he looked at me as a person. A person.
"I-I-I just...well I didn't mean...I"- Placing my other hand on the opposite shoulder, I gave him a light shake and shook my head, before lightly returning the kiss. It had been a while since I had felt this way. The kiss was void of the usual hot, burning desire that flooded through my veins. But what it lacked in intensity, it made up in tenderness. A feeling I hadn't bothered to think about in a long time. On top of that, it was something I wasn't entirely powerless against.
He was blushing quite furiously as we made our way back to the school. He was muttering inaudible sentences the whole while up there, and it remained an unspoken agreement that we wouldn't mention the incident to anybody. Neither of us had made plans for it to happen, and we didn't make plans for it to happen again, I particularly decided this was for the best. As I made my way back into the common room I was already feeling guilty about it. I think this was the first time I realized just how in over my head I was. That a mere kiss of another would be poison to what I had with Draco. As much as I was trying to fight it, I needed it, and I decided then and there, it would be the last kiss I shared with anybody else.
If only. Justin and I met again, and again. Never beyond kissing and cuddling, mind you, but it was disastrous nonetheless. The day Draco caught us...I thought for sure that was the end of it.
I tell you, the pain he caused me that day, not just the physical, but the emotional feelings that went through me were enough to last a person a single lifetime. A single glance from him can do more to me than most people can do with their wands. I got plenty of it that time. He yelled at, glared at, pushed, and hurt me, all at the same time. He had meant to stop me, but he only drove me further.
I only met with Justin once more; I didn't want to think about what Draco would do to him if he ever found out exactly who he was. But there were others. Many others. Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and admittedly Gryffindor. But of course, there would only ever be one Slytherin. I was careless. Careless and stupid. Nothing gets passed Draco. As much as I hate it, he really is aware of everything that takes place in the school. He knew. And he gets so mad...so blind with fury. Hell hath no fury like a Malfoy scorned.
Apologizing never did as much as I had hoped. Of course, it worked to begin with. But after ten or twelve times, he started to realize I wasn't honest. I'm sure he had realized before then, God only knows why it took him so long to finally lose it. He would yell at me, hit me, and take me. It was just the way it was. Each time worse than the last. And every time he did, every single time, I became more determined not to mess up again. And at the same time, I craved more affection. I wanted somebody; I needed somebody, to hold me. To kiss my bruises and heal my wounds. To caress my soiled skin and lick the blood from my lips.
It only ever went beyond kisses once. One time. In all honesty, it wasn't that great, but it was different. After we were through, he held me, and kissed the back of my neck. He rubbed my shoulders and whispered softly in my ear, gently laughing with his light Irish accent. He made me happy, made me feel it was right. In a way Draco had only done once before, during our first time. I guess after that, all formalities were off. I had been deemed property of his and he didn't have to make it nice for me. He just made sure it was nice for him.
* * *
I really am sorry. I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. My gift for eloquence only goes so far. It convinced him for a while, at least. Until it became obvious I was lying. The kisses he could forgive with the right persuasion, but this...I had gone much too far for him. I had really overstepped my boundaries this time. If only he knew he was the cause of it all. The cause of it everything: hate, anger, love, lust, suffering, insanity, desires, wants, and needs.
The center of my fucking universe.
I'm not sure exactly what he's planning for tonight, I can only rest assured it's not going to be anything I'm going to want to experience again. I absentmindedly rub my fingers across the raw skin of my still-sore knuckles as I walk down the cold, stone corridors. When I round the corner on my way to the dungeon, he's already there. He'd never seem the type, but he's quite punctual.
He'd be the type to open the door for you and pull out a chair for you, that is, after he beat the living crap out of you in the parking lot.
He stays silent but I know he sees me. Those cold, steel orbs of his give a small flicker as I come into his view. He's always happy to see me. Happy because he's finally going to be able to let me know exactly how he's feeling, even if it's not in words. Giving a small nod, he turns around and walks swiftly down the hall. I know to follow him, and I do...like a stupid dog on a leash. Before I know it, we're in an empty room that I've never seen before. I only know we must be quite far from where we began, as I can see the lake in the distance out of one of the broken windows that lines the empty walls.
Walking to one of the windows, he crosses his arms in front of him and stairs straight out. I don't have to see his face to know he's chewing his bottom lip. The pale moonlight pours in through the windows, just giving enough light for me to make out his form from across the room. I lean back against the wall, by the door. We both know there's no way I'd run away, but it's nice to put up a charade once in a while. After what seems like an eternity of blatant silence, he turns to face me. He mutters a simple incantation, and the door beside me locks itself as he takes slow steps toward me.
"Still as sorry as you were?" He arcs his brow with the light tilt of his head as he continues to walk toward me...Each step, echoing through the empty classroom. I swallow hard, and turn away from him, giving the lightest of nods. His footsteps are torture, slow and steady. He laughs, a shrill and vindictive laugh before he continues to vent. Each sentence louder than the last.
"Oh I'm soooooooo sorry, Draco! So sorry I'm such a slut, that I can't keep my hands to myself for more than a minute! So sorry that I do it over and over again just because I'm an easy lay. So sorry I don't care about anybody but myself!"
His voice is high as he mocks me, and I can hear his breathing as he finally gets close enough to touch me. His fingers, cold from the night air, but strangely soft as always, wind themselves down my cheek and along my jawbone. Before I have a chance to move, he reels back and slaps me hard across the face. The force knocks my glasses off and I can hear them clatter against the stone of the floor before sliding away. If I hadn't been so used to it, I probably would've cried out in pain, but I stayed silent, keeping my eyes squeezed shut.
"You know...you never know what you've got until it's gone. Maybe if I left right now, then you'd really be sorry?"
"No!" I shout before even thinking.
That's it, Harry, just give him the ammunition he needs. But it's true, we're connected in such a way that if he left...if he stopped being with me, I don't know how I'd go on. Sometimes I wonder how I managed before we met. He immediately smirks, and glides a hand back through his ruffled mass of golden locks, his gaze running slowly up and down my body in a way I can only describe as perverted.
"That's what I thought. I guess you're not as dumb as we all imagined." He gives a light shrug as his eyes meet mine. I just want it over. He always draws it out. I still don't know what he gets from all this, I just know I must be pretty good at giving it. Shaking his head, he steps closer to me and I find we're inches apart. He opens his mouth, for what's sure to be another jab at my already abused emotions. But before he has a chance to tell me how horrible I am, I get him to shut up in the only way I know how.
I'm on him liked a crazed animal. My lips press hard against his as my arms slip up and around his shoulders, pulling him into me. The kiss is sloppy as I grind my hips into his, just begging for him to take me. Offering myself in a way I just know will force him to do it. I feel the warmth of his palms, wedging their way between us as he slides his hands up to my chest. I let out a small sigh of relief; however, it's a bit too premature as his palms press hard against me.
I cry out in mild pain and shock, pulling my lips back from his. He's staring right through me, his eyes full of a fire I've never seen before. His fists grip my cloak and he pulls me toward him before slamming me back against the stones of the wall.
"You can't do that! That isn't how it works!" I hear the fabric of my clothing tear as I'm shoved against the wall again, a sob welling in the back of my throat. I stare up at him, confused, hurt, and absolutely terrified. He pushes himself against me, and I wonder if he sees the fear in my eyes. But I know...he sees. He sees and he doesn't care.
"You can't do whatever you damn well please, you know. You can't have everything you want. You can't!" His face is dangerously close to mine and I feel his breath on my skin, sending chills up my spine. I shut my eyes again, and hang my head, at a loss for words or actions. I can feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest as he keeps me pinned against the wall.
"It's not right! It's not fair!"
With each shout, I'm pressed harder against the wall. I can feel every point of every stone pushing into the flesh of my back. Whimpering, I open my eyes; I've got half the mind to cry right there and beg him to stop. But the look in his eyes stops me. The fury is gone, he's still enraged, there's no doubt about that, only...if I didn't know better, I'd say there was a glimmer of pain there. However, in a fleeting instant it's gone, replaced by the ridged glare I've seen one too many times. I open my mouth to stammer an apology, to beg for reconciliation.
But before I have a chance, I find myself being flung to the floor.
As I'm shoved aside like a dirty rag, he turns his back to me. He's hunched over, and by squinting, I can barely make out that his face is in his palms. The sudden urge to comfort him rushes over me, and I try to get to my feet. I must not be as quiet as I think, because the second I start to get up, he knows.
"Come one step closer to me, Potter, and so help me, you'll regret it."
It isn't the threat that keeps me quiet...it's the name. The name I hadn't heard spoken from those gorgeous lips in nearly seven months. It's not until the shock of it subsides, that I'm able to grab my cracked glasses from the floor and slip them on. Only then do I realize that I'm alone. Alone, and let off entirely too easy.
