Disclaimer: Not everyone is as brilliant as JKRowling (who owns the magic that is Harry Potter), but we all try. This is yet another attempt to twist her amazing ideas into something more PG, in order to indulge and relate to more closely.

This is a slash, obviously. If you have chosen to read this, you probably know what that is. If you are offended by the content, then leave and go find out how to get rid of ignorance.

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Selfish Enough

Potter, and Malfoy, the newfound lovers, both came back to reality from the different torments of Lucius Malfoy. They found each other face to face, clearly understanding what the other was thinking about. Harry caressed the gleaming platinum draping on the lover's pillow,

"I'm sorry Draco. You have to believe me, I truly am. For everything. Confessing, kissing, committing myself to you. I know what it is to be fatherless, yet I never truly understood, because I never knew him. But I do know how much all this has cost and hurt you! Your father-"

"Harry," Malfoy placed his delicate fingers over the pleading boy's mouth, "don't be sorry. Please. It's more the confusion than anything else that I can't let go of. One day, he just changed, Harry. Or, rather, disappeared. That man living inside my house now is not my father. That man is old, bitter, and emotionless. My father's lost, and I've been spending useless months trying to find him. Where did he go? I don't know where to look anymore. But I know for sure that, he's gone." Pause. "I don't know if he's ever coming back."

Almost instantly, Draco felt bad for this self-pitying monologue, and the sorrow it caused in Harry's eyes. He had no one. Everyone knew that James and Lily Potter would never come back. Draco, at least, had something to remember; the good memories.

"I'm glad for my growing up," trying to change the mood, "otherwise, if I had never known good, I wouldn't be here. My father certainly took pride in the dark side, but he knew without wizards like you everyone would have been damned."

With the silence that followed, the pair fell asleep, each with his own torments.

Draco awoke first, and saw that Harry was gone. Probably making lunch...or dinner. He changed his mind having realized he must have been asleep a long time since the winter's sun was starting to set. Not even considering whether he was hungry, the blonde headed for the bathroom. The BoyWhoLived nowhere to be seen. Draco's senses drowned in the smell of oranges as he realized Harry had used the gift. Hopefully, he liked it. I like it. With that, Malofoy proceeded to shower, hoping to come out more relaxed.

Harry Potter's infatuation dressed himself after the shower as though he had an important date. Black pants; new, black boots; black V-neck sweater, where a little of the black T-shirt's rim peeked over the edge; and his hair brushed but not even constrained by Draco's ears. He thought it better not to even say anything to Harry. With the click of the front door, Malfoy started out, not knowing, or caring, where he would end up.

The blonde, it seemed, was stuck in some strange TV series in which soundtracks played are several minutes long. While wandering the streets, he took notice of the young couples, mothers with newborns, everyone making conversation as though he didn't exist. Draco sighed at this, with relief. He was free to finally think, breath...weep. His strides became longer, yet slower, 'til he forgot he was even moving. Clearly, he'd never been in this part of the city. It was one of those warm fall nights, with a slight breeze. Like a small, lost child, not concerning anyone, the dragon leaned forward, steadying his elbows on his knees as he sat on a bench planted in the middle of the wide path. He started picturing the camera angle he would be shot at. The profile of course, isn't that how all the Muggle shows went? The platinum loose strands were framing his refined features, tickling him, but Malfoy wouldn't push them away. "Spies" started to play in Draco's head, and then the rest of the Coldplay songs he was so addicted to. So literal, still laced with a double meaning relating to everything.

Who would have thought it. Draco Malfoy, escaping his love that is Harry Potter, only to think of him more and how much his life was starting to resemble a movie...You are my sin Potter. A dirty little secret I keep under my sheets at night. You've stained and bruised my lips; now your name is only sweeter. Your touches cannot be washed off, so you cling to me day to night, till you make new traces and patterns on this pale flesh. Catching even himself off guard, Draco's face burried in his own hands, he sobbed like he had just been used; wanted to be used. Unsure of whether he was crying because of Harry, Lucious Malfoy, self pity, or the newfound feeling of happiness, the dragon wouldn't stop the tears now, when it felt most liberating and necessary. The blonde knew where this would lead, which he felt craved one last, long cry. Draco had to let go of the past; he finally had a future... The tear-stained clear eyes became fierce with this thought as he repeated it in his head. Needless to say, he was still scared shitless. Draco Malfoy didn't grow up to be his father's shadow, and it was okay; it was much more than okay.

Following the few minutes it took for him to compose himself, Draco stood, content with his choices, and anxious for the next step-

"Draco!" The blonde felt as though his knees became too weak for him to stand, as he recognized the pain in the familiar scream.

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The chapter just came out when I sat down to type. With ongoing stories, I lose interest if there is no feedback, so please, REVIEW! (Good, or bad!) Along with suggestions!