Rating: probably Pg:13 might get up to an R
Pairing: yeah id b really surprised if you didn't no by now (especially since its in the summery lol) yup HARRY/ DRACO all the way baby
Main characters: Harry P, Draco M
Summary: it's 7th year and two people are in love, but neither know it. They both have one last chance. Will they take it?
Feedback: plz plz plz plz plz plz plz if you read it tell me what you think???? I REALLY need the encouragement =P thanx muchly
Thanks to: always, AmZ, Fanny_chan (once again =)), SoulSister, Aezy and Gemdiamond who reviewed my 2nd & 3rd chapters - Enjoy – I hope J
Thanx to 2: specially 2 AmZ heheheh that is sooooo sweet, thanx very muchly
In gerneral – I love all my reviewers =D you cant no how much ur reviews brighten my day, really, ppl tend to look at me a little strangely when I dance around the room huggin myself . . but its worth it =D
Also this hasn't been beta'd one again I am terribly sorry but I cant do anything else until I get this story out of me. I give up sleep to write just so that I can get some . . if that makes any sense therefore in my efforts to get this out as fast as possible, it hasn't been beta'd . . my apologies please don't hold it against the fic . . =P it isn't its fault I'm obsessed.
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~ A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words ~
The next morning Harry awoke, his resolve strong and his flagging faith supported by his abiding love. He would convince Draco to reveal his emotions, to open up to the emerald-eyed boy at all costs. Nothing would stop him in his search for true love. Harry was hunting for that most elusive emotion where it was so deeply buried that it almost disappeared altogether, and as all good hunters know, knowing your prey is the key to ultimate success and succeed he would. In an effort to learn all he could, Harry would spy, he would lie, he would hide and he would and let Draco inside . . . well so far as he could still keep a little back, he couldn't have Draco catching onto his original, ingenious plot before it had a chance to come to fruition now could he?
Almost springing from the soft mattress and clinging bed covers that seemed to beckon him back to the land of dreams, Harry dressed in record time, a secretive smile lighting his face with soft fire, a fire that for the first time shone for all the world to see, although not necessarily to understand, and caused quite a few comments throughout the day, some confused and some suggestive. A passionate fire that also caused quite a few hearts to flutter that day and the days to follow, not just female hearts, not just male hearts either but . . . draconian too.
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Draco sauntered confidently into the great hall, his usual feline grace automatically masking the emotional tumult of the previous night and the resulting exhaustion. In fact, Draco deemed none the worse for wear, his steps seeming to glide along the stone floor as if walking on air. And perhaps he was; his head was certainly in the clouds. As half the school watched in fascination, drawn to the magnetic, focused, charged and undoubtedly positive atmosphere that seemed to almost shimmer around him, he graced them all with a charming, almost feral grin, his eyes travelling an instinctive path across the people gathered for breakfast that fine morning.
He noted Pansy Parkinson smirking nastily and snickering to her brainless friends whispering something, doubtless along the lines of "*someone* got lucky last night" and without even pausing tipped her a knowing wink and turned away, completely ignoring anything she might have to say to that. Unfortunately, Draco turned only to find himself the frightening face of Professor McGonagall, the expression on said face some strange mixture of "I know your up to something" and what could only be her own brand of a come-hither stare. Mr. Malfoy chose that as the appropriate moment to execute a military-precision about turn and found himself once again confronted with an alarming image, though not quite the same *kind* of alarming. Draco felt his calm façade of control start to waver as a single bead of sweat trickled its way past his right eye. This was bad, really bad . . .
In the process of turning on one heel to make a quick, smart exit, *The* Draco Malfoy stumbled and almost fell flat on his disbelieving face. His roaming eyes had caught and snagged on the vision before him. His heart beat out a rapid, stuttering tattoo and his hands shook with barely covered effort as he restrained himself by the barest thread of what remained of his tenuous, much vaunted control. Barely restrained himself from shocking the whole congregated school by simply striding over to the gorgeous boy currently lounging at the Gryffindor table and kissing the satisfied expression from his glowing features.
Unaware that the expression so blatantly displayed on the face of one Harry Potter was an exact replica of his own, not five minutes before. All Draco could think of was his resolution the previous night to win the boy over with his superlative artistic talent and sweeping romantic gestures, all he could think of was the fact that *he* was the only person allowed to make Mr. Harry Potter grin like the proverbial cat who caught the canary, the unbelievable fact that *someone* had obviously beaten him to it (because someone did *not* just get an expression like that by themselves) and the equally obvious fact that that same *someone* would now have to die . . .because no one, NO ONE, touched something that belonged to Draco Malfoy. And Harry Potter *did* belong to him, even if he didn't know it yet.
A fire burned within him, a roaring, destructive, utterly consuming inferno that burned its way painfully up from the very depths of his soul to pour forth from his eyes, scolding any who dared to look upon him, momentarily turning eyes the colour and hardness of diamonds to molten gold, burning and spitting sparks of intense emotion, a pale reflection of that which burned within, the fire of possessive, jealous rage fuelled by the fury of love scorned.
Draco stormed from the hall, leaving the ancient oak doors to swing shut with furious thunder and hundreds of surprised faces to gape in astonishment behind him. If anyone asked him later, Draco would simply say he was an artist, or at least was *going* to be an artist, and he had a suitably fiery artistic temperament. Who cares what they thought.
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Harry was the first to react. He jumped up from the table, cutlery clanging to the floor as he sprinted to the still swinging doors and out, after his elusive prey, earning yet more strange looks from the people remaining behind. This was his chance, Draco was obviously upset for some reason and he *had* to know what that reason was, so he would follow him, he would observe and hopefully he would get some inspiration, something to help him decide how to win Draco's affections, learn something that would tell him what kind of painting would find its way to the dragons heart and light the path for Harry to follow. That, and he was curious, what, or who, was powerful enough that it could breach the walls and touch Draco in such a away, could force him to such a violent display of usually absent emotion.
And how could he destroy that thing. How he could obliterate, how he could eviscerate, how he could ANNIHILATE that thing. Destroy whatever it was he would because no one, *nothing* was allowed to hurt Draco like that. He simply would not allow it.
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Draco ran blindly through the stone corridors and out into the light of day, tears blinding his passage as he stumbled in his haste to get away. Away from everything, away from it all, away from the pain and the humiliation and the love that just would not quit, the love that stayed firmly lodged at the very centre of his being even though he felt as if the rest of himself crumbled around it. The love that had become his pillar of strength, a love that whispered to his courage, that gave him hope of something more, a love that weakened under the strength, the sheer quantity of his doubts but still vainly fought on, branding him as a coward for denying it.
His stumbling, wild flight came to a stop as he contemplated that thought. Not even noticing where he came to rest, Draco became as still, as silent as the towering, ancient trees that surrounded him, he stood motionless in the centre of a beautiful serene clearing, the sun shining down upon his fair head unable to break through the dark clouds of emotion that obscured his vision.
A coward . . .
He was Draco Malfoy . . . *anything* but a coward . . .
And GODS DAMN IT if he would *EVER* become one.
He may have been a slave to love, but he would *never* let a . . . minor setback . . . change his life, his plans.
Draco Malfoy would emerge from his trials victorious. As ever. Damn anyone or anything that dared to stand in his way.
With a last surge of anger Draco cursed the gods –
"ITS NOT FAIR! DAMN YOU! WHY? WHY!?!?!?!?!?!?"
And finally he cursed his beloved for not returning his love, for being cold and cruel, and for not knowing it.
Tears streaming freely down his pale cheeks Draco screamed, screeched himself hoarse with all the pain in his tortured heart.
"DAMN YOU HARRY POTTER!!!!! BUT I *WILL* GET YOU!!!"
Finally breaking down, Draco collapsed, his knees buckling beneath him, he lay on the soft, mossy grass in the sunshine and cradled his aching head in his hands. Sobbing he whispered brokenly, "W-why does it have to-to . . . *hurt*, oh *gods*! why does it have to Hurt. So. Much???" . . .
Sighing with exhaustion, he scrubbed cruel hands against the burning in his eyes and whispered softly to himself, "Harry. My love. Why? . . ." looking up almost accusingly at the trees ringing him, Draco growled "You *will* be mine Potter."
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Harry followed Draco's haphazard progress through the school and out onto the lawns, he ran to keep up as Draco entered the forest, his heart wrung with fear, anger and love.
Fear for Draco, could whatever had happened finally accomplish what years of brutality at the hands of his father and his own peers could not? Could one incident finally destroy Draco Malfoy? Fear for his fragile heart, his battered soul, his much abused sanity and fear . . . for his life. Could Draco finally be pushed so far as to take his own life, to end his existence? Harry was unsure where Draco was heading, and he suspected that not even Draco himself knew where he was going, what he doing and that was *exactly* why Harry was so anxious to keep up, if anything happened to Draco, he . . . he didn't know what he would do, how he could survive that . . . and so with unshakable logic, he reasoned that he would simply not let *that* happen. If Draco decided to try anything, he would find himself with a lap-full of a whole lot of determined seventeen year old. No one could harm Draco, not even Draco himself.
Anger. A towering fury that raged against the world, against everyone and everything that had ever even *attempted* to harm Draco in anyway. Anger against the father that had tortured Draco all his years, emotionally crippling him, sometimes even physically crippling him for short periods, Anger against a world that gave him that *creature* as a father, a world that said essentially his love was wrong, a crime against god and nature, and against the people of that world, the people small minded enough to believe that, cruel enough to stereotype, to vilify and condemn without taking a Good. Hard. Look at themselves first. Anger against fate, against "destiny" both his and Draco's, a seething, fuming hatred for anything that tried to keep them apart, to keep him from his rightful place at Draco's side, together, forever.
An finally an all-encompassing love overwhelmed every other puny, paltry emotion, that soothed and calmed, that gave him the strength to suppress all of his other emotions in the face of Draco's pain, in order to help him. The fear and the anger would keep, keep until the time was right to exact retribution, until he would swoop down on all that dared to cause his beloved pain and make them wish that he had never been the Boy Who Lived, for not even Voldemort could be worse than what he would do, love might forgive all but all of Harry's other, baser, primitive emotions demanded he protect and defend his mate.
Finally reaching the place where Draco had come to a stop, halting himself at the waves of pain radiating of the silent figure in the middle of the beautiful glade. His breath caught, he was struck dumb, motionless he stared, his eyes riveted to the statue-like figure before him. Before Harry could even think to move, the pain was replaced by a wave of fury, so hot that it burned, so cold that it made him quake in fear.
"ITS NOT FAIR! DAMN YOU! WHY? WHY!?!?!?!?!?!?"
Harry felt it like a dagger to the heart, an almost physical pain that winded him and nearly brought him to his knees. Hot tears prickled his eyes as he silently hugged himself, unable to face the wild thing that Draco had become to go to him and give him comfort, but wordlessly echoing the scream that shook him to his very foundations.
"DAMN YOU HARRY POTTER!!!!! BUT I *WILL* GET YOU!!!"
Harry's arms dropped listlessly to his sides, his mouth open in a silent scream of shock and pain.
NO.NO.NO.NO.NO.NO.NO NO.NO.NO.NO.NO.NO.NO NO.NO.NO.NO.NO.NO.NO NO.NO.NO.NO.NO.NO.NO NO.NO.NO.NO.NO.NO.NO
His head flew in wretched denial. The dagger in his heart twisted painfully, the truth a new, gaping wound, possibly fatal. Even years later, Harry could not remember that next hour or so. Just an impression of darkness, numbness, feeling nothing but his newly fortified heart breaking into a million jagged pieces, and seeing nothing but the recurring image of Draco, tears streaming down his face, damning him to hell.
Harry had caused Draco's pain.
Draco hated him.
He had no one to blame but himself.
Draco hated him.
Draco could never love him.
Draco hated him.
He had been foolish to believe.
Draco hated him.
He would never trust, never love again.
Draco hated him.
How could he? He had no heart left.
Draco hated him
DRACO HATED HIM
Draco hated him, and Harry didn't no if he could survive it.
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TBC
Oops sorry total absence of happy there it started off promising but mutated somewhere along the line . . *sigh* o well . . .i promise its coming im not *that* cruel.
Good night every one *yawn* enjoy R/R I hope