A/N: I'm pleased to note to everyone that I have completely lost it. Therefore, this chapter, short and curt, consists of many irrational thoughts and situations and was meant to show that Draco is, much like I am, going mad. And let me just say, it is impossible to "not care what others think" and that those who claim they can are either lying or possess personal willpower that could, frankly, whoop my willpower's ass. And I mean that from the bottom of my crazy, empty and thoroughly tired-of-life heart. And now, on with the adventures of Draco, the boy who must be made of gold because everyone wants him.

Also, for the convenience to those who've been reading this story, I've posted an...essay of sorts at this address: ___. It details my own ideas about homosexuality in today's society. It goes out to the person on the other site where I post this story who left a very immature flame concerning the content. I've made sure that I am been perfectly clear from day one and chapter one that this was, is, and will always be a slash story. So, in response, I ask those people not to read this story, for their heads may explode with the absolutely BLATANT homosexuality. That's right, my dear friends and readers! This chapter is downright loaded with enough sexual innuendo to make any half-educated and ignorant person want to call up the KKK and the Neo-Nazis and have a party.

Oh, and let me just say, I in NO WAY advocate sexual activity among fifteen year olds. However, love is a fickle, funny thing. Speaking of which, if you crazily love this story, you'll be happy to know I am starting a new one. I haven't yet got a title yet (working title: The Story Where Harry and Draco Accidentally Get Lost In Time and Have To Deal With The Possibility That They May Never Get Back and That Lily Potter is a Tad Confused Since This Guy Looks Like the Guy She Has a Crush On Yet He Keeps Calling Her Mum and Won't Respond To Any Of Her Flirting.) I suppose I don't need to tell you the plot. Now this exceptionally long author's note is over.

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"I'm torn in pieces
I blind and waiting for
My heart is reeling
I'm blind and waiting for you..."
--Goo Good Dolls "Big Machine"


Instead of trying to be closer to Draco, Blaise was staying far away, always looking as if he was too confused to do much of anything. Draco preferred it that way; he was busy battling whether or not he should tell Harry.

'I can't," he told his conscience, who was filling him with intense guilt. When he and Harry met in the clearing of the Forbidden Forest, Harry commented that Draco seemed upset. Draco tried to blow it off as being nothing, but inside he writhed with guilt.

What if Blaise tried to pursue a relationship? Draco couldn't completely ignore him; he had kissed back. It didn't matter that the entire time he thought of Harry. None of it changed the fact that he had indeed cheated on Harry.

The thing that scared him the most was how Blaise's kiss had been just as good as Harry's had ever been, and was just as passionate and just as dizzying. Wasn't he supposed hate the kiss? But he was basking in the afterglow.

If he hadn't been with Harry, would he have kissed back more? Would he try to be with Blaise? The questions chased each other around in his head constantly, plaguing his dreams and making him feel horrible. Every time he kissed Harry, he kept seeing Blaise and tasting that innocent kiss that was evil and vile and wonderful all at once.

So Harry and Draco's relationship wasn't as perfect as Draco had been thinking. It couldn't be if one kiss was making Draco call into question every moment he had experienced wth Harry.

A full week after the kiss, Blaise finally spoke with Draco. He crept over to his bed in the middle of the night and woke him up. "Draco, we have to talk," he said, looking down on him. Rubbing his eyes, Draco allowed himself to be led into the hallway.

When Blaise turned to him, Draco felt a tugging at his heart as his eyes went to Blaise's lips. "Draco, I don't know what we did..."

"We kissed."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," replied Blaise, narrowing his eyes but still smiling. "Did you...feel anything?"

'You can't ask me that,' Draco pleaded, suddenly remember another night with another person and another kiss. "I don't know," whispered Draco, turning his face away. He couldn't bear to look at Blaise anymore.

"You did," Blaise said, moving closer. "I know you did."

"You don't know what you're asking me to do," Draco whispered, his voice shaking, his eyes closed.
"I'm asking you to love me," replied Blaise, touching Draco's face with fingers that felt like a child's. Draco felt lips brush his cheek, but when he finally turned to look, Blaise was gone.

Draco had the sudden, strong, and almost overwhelming desire to find a good, hard wall and bash his head against it many times until the images of Blaise and Harry had melted into a bloody mix in his tortured mind.

He quite liked the sound of the sentence and scribbled it down on a scrap of paper. 'Oh, I'm a poet, now,' he thought, almost smiling, until he remembered the reason for the passage and he stuck it cruely into the middle of his mother's journal, praying she wouldn't mind.

Then, completely on a whim that was very unlike the new, improved him, was to go down to the common room and see what the Slytherins who weren't leading such torrid love lives as he did to fill their meaningless hours.

Oh, another passage to write on the scrap of paper once he had satisfied himself that it would be easier to be anyone but himself.

"Hullo, Draco!" Crabbe said. Draco turned, an almost genuine hald-smile, half-grimace on his face. Perhaps if he talked to Crabbe and Goyle he could somehow transfer back to yesteryear and fling himself from a cliff while he was still safely assured no one gave a damn about him.

"Hullo, Crabbe," he said, reaching out and shaking his hand, "how've you been?" Crabbe had to take a moment to readjust to the kinder Draco, but he did with amazing quickness though with a slight glint of stupidity in his eyes.

"Fine, fine. Me and Goyle have been hanging out with some older guys. You should really meet them, they're very..." he wandered off, his eyes rolling upwards as he searched for a word to describe this charming fellows he had been so lucky to meet.

"They're...articulate?" Draco supplied, grinning inwardly at his ironic statement. Crabbe grinned and slapped him on the back.

"Exactly!" he said, having absolutely no idea what Draco had said. He asked if Draco would like to come and meet these articulate fellows and Draco obliged, praying that none of them developed a crush on him because at the moment he had no desire to make out with anyone new.

He paused as Crabbe introduced him and thought about how horrendously arrogant it was of him to think that.

There was a commotion behind him and he turned and saw that Blaise and Pansy, as usual, were bickering over something and both glanced at him and their eyes filled with a sort of chilish adoration and Blaise gave Draco a cheesy, discreet wink and Draco turned, his cheeks burning and thinking his earlier thoughts were completely and totally necessary and appropriate since currently three people were hoping to shag him before the year was out.

God, but he wanted to tell someone all this but the only person who gave half a rat's arse about it was Harry and the last thing their relationship needed was Draco stumbling into Gryffindor Tower, lamenting over the numerous people who were vying for him.

After a few excruciating minutes meeting Crabbe and Goyle's new friends, who were ironically enough quite articulate and also seemed to playing friends with Crabbe and Goyle, Draco retreated to his bedroom as guilt began to rise in his throat. He began to think back on how he used to treat the people he met in his life, and he buried his face in his pillow and groaned as he realized how true Hermione's words rang in his ears.

"Draco, what's wrong?" Blaise asked, stepping into the room.

"I'm a horrible, horrible person who has lived a complete and utter lie my entire life and I think I must've murdered a house full of orphans in a past life because the bad karma is finally catching up with me and wreaking havoc over life as I know it."

"Pardon?"

"I think I ate a funny whelk."

"Oh, I'll remember to leave the bathroom light on tonight."

"Really, you people are too good to me."

"I'd be better to you if you'd talk to me."

"I'd be better to everyone if I hadn't killed those orphans."

"Pardon again?"

"Whelk."

"Funny, I don't remember us having whelk," mused Blaise.

"Dear god, someone kill me now," Draco practically screamed into his pillow. The cloth muffled the words so Blaise just rolled his eyes and left the room.

That night at dinner, Draco was halfway through his meal before Pansy pointed out that it was all a French dish that consisted mainly of cow brains. As he was walking back to the dorms, his shoulders had to be grabbed by Blaise and pointed towards the direction of the dungeons because he had inadvertently wandered into the rush of Ravenclaws heading back to heaven knows where.

"Are you okay?" Blaise asked again when they were changing for bed. Draco sighed and covered his face with his hands.

"I'm sorry I've been such an ass, Blaise, I'm just...desperately confused with my life, that's all," he muttered. Nodding, Blaise pulled on his pajamas and crawled into bed.

"G'night, Draco," he said, before turning his head to the side and closing his eyes.

'Oh, Blaise,' Draco thought quietly, 'You're the most innocent victim in all this.'

~

The next day after classes Draco was walking back from Herbology when someone reached out from a dark classroom and grabbed his arm and yanked him inside.

"Hullo," Draco said as he felt Harry kissing his neck.

"Hullo," mumbled Harry, wrapping his arms around Draco's waist and pulling him deeper into the classroom.

They barely had time to close the door.

Following their fiasco in the deserted classroom, it was hard not to walk by Harry and burst into peels of laughter. "I guess this makes us two very mature fifteen year olds," Draco had whispered as they tried to straighten each other's robes before trying to go outside the classroom and pretend to be presentable.

And now there was a knowing, a deep seated knowing in Draco that Harry was "the one." He was disappointed to find that such a knowing didn't come with bells and sparkles and all that romantic mess that faery tales were made of. It instead came to him seemingly somewhere in the dark of that classroom with quiet whispering.

Disappointing as the coming of the knowing was, it still became part of him. The Blaise thing became nothing but background sound. They talked but nothing happened, save some hand-holding, but it wasn't anywhere near what it felt like to hold Harry's hand, or to talk to Harry.

It was also getting hard to quell the want to run into the middle of the crowded hallways and scream out that yes, he loved Harry Potter, and yes, they were doing things that were wrong and disgusting and insane and everything two people in love would do.

'I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love!' he sang to himself as he went about his business, a smile aways on his face, his attitude sickeningly pleasant to everyone.

But to every thing there is a season.

And nothing gold can stay.