disclaimers: dont own harry potter
Title: Tada hitotsu no omoi wo (One little feeling)
summary: One little feeling, one little look, one little touch can change the emotions betwixt enemies and bring about a bond that can never be broken. Harry/Draco slash
warnings: boy x boy love
Chapter 1: A touch
"I remember spring times--
Buttercups that turned our noses yellow
While the ice cream dripped
Down the crisp golden cone
And onto our shoes.
And I remember
Talking
Of how much richer the air would taste
The sky would look
And the grass would feel
When in the summer...
We got to do it all again."
~ ~ ~
Draco irritably swatted at Pansy's hand for the upteenth time that day. The girl had become notably more grabby since summer break, she just would not give him a moment's rest. The sixteen year old had arrived merely a couple hours before, vainly trying to dissuade Pansy's advances onto him. How many times would he have to yell at the ignorant girl that he wasn't interested and never would be? Draco was thankful that Rem took Pansy from Draco's side to chat with their girlfriends on the opposite end of the Slytherin table. Alone, at last. Draco ignored the bantering of his peers and of the other Houses. It was almost time for the new batch of first years to come through the doors.
Draco had changed some since his first year at Hogwart's at the seemingly innocent age of eleven; he was all but innocent. Draco sighed, running a hand through his shoulder length golden blond hair. He wanted to cut it but his mother forbid it; said he looked like a miniature Lucius. Draco didn't take that as a compliment but exteriorly he smiled and agreed with Narcissa. His silver-leaded oculates with the flecks of slate blue were often devoid of emotion, earning many whispers that he was a Junior Death Eater. It wouldn't have been a lie. Over Christmas break, Draco would be forced to have the tattoo branded onto his arm. Had this been just a year ago, he would have been exalted at the prospect of joining Lord Voldemort. Not anymore. Not after he saw the death and destruction that Voldemort and his lackies really caused. He shuddered at the memory of a Muggle family being torn to pieces by controlled werewolves.
Fifth year had been one of terror and preparation. Studies were pressed even more fiercely on the students, especially Defense Against the Dark Arts. Draco didn't need it; he had full knowledge in every curse imaginable and some that weren't even known to the general public. Benefits of being a Death Eater's son. Draco closed his eyes momentarily. He wished he could just run away and escape his life but he knew they would find him. They always did. They were forever watching and waiting.
Draco snapped to attention upon the feeling of eyes boring into the back of his head. Upon instinct he clutched the wand hidden in the sleeves of his robe. Who had the audacity to oggle him? Draco calmed his racing nerves. It wasn't anybody that could harm it. It wasn't one of Voldemort's spies. Draco turned around abruptly, catching the peeper unawares. He was shocked to find that it was the Golden Boy. Draco let his characteristic smirk settle into place, quirking one perfectly sculpted brow, silently challenging Harry to make some sort of move.
Harry, on the other end of the Great Hall, sat completely still meeting Draco's attempts to provoke him into a fight. However, Harry couldn't bring himself to keep a lock on Draco's eyes. There was something odd about them, as if there was no soul. There was a saying that the eyes were the windows to a person's soul. Draco's were blank, no ire had even risen in them. Did that mean he was missing his soul? Harry furrowed his brows. Just how could that be?
Draco didn't appreciate the way Harry was gazing at him. It was...strange. Draco immediately swerved to his original place. Was it possible that Harry...knew? Draco shook that thought aside. That couldn't be true. Hell, Draco barely knew what was wrong with him so how could Harry? The only one who had a remote idea of his affliction was Severus, mainly due to the fact that Draco required a Dreamless Sleep Potion in order to drift into slumber and so was required to inform his mentor what was wrong. Severus had seemed perplexed.
All Draco knew was that he was losing his emotions. He didn't become angry, he didn't become sad, he never was happy. He still felt a blanketed fear but that was dimming as well. Severus had asked him to tell Dumbledore. Draco refused. He would not be treated as an invalid. Anyway, who needed emotions? Anger led to confrontations that ended up in broken bones and bruises. Sorrow made one weak and pathetic. Merriness was for those who deserved it and Draco came to the conclusion that he did not. So, what did he have to lose? Love and hate went hand-in-hand with his vanishing feelings. What was the point of those? There wasn't any.
Draco took little interest in the fresh first years. He stared off into space, debating his future and what the likelihood of his surviving would be. Dumbledore's voice was garbled, clapping from tables other than the Slytherin resounded. Draco didn't bother with learning why the sudden rush of exaltment. He slid a long and delicate finger across his goblet's rim unwittingly. How could he have lost so much control on his life? He used to be secure in his beliefs. He would follow his father's path for him, no questions asked. But he did asked questions. Why the need to destroy Muggles? Why follow a psychotic's rule? Why the countless deaths of innocents that didn't harm anyone? Lucius used to tell him that Muggles were a disease to the planet and thus had to be wiped out. Draco saw his own race and those of non-magic people the same. Both were a disease in his opinion.
A tap on his shoulder snapped him from his reverie. He put a patented glare on. Blaise Zabini, perhaps the only person in Slytherin-the entire school for that matter-that Draco could stand. Blaise knew when to keep his mouth shut and when to offer a conversation. Right now, Draco wanted to keep his mind from drifting to his jumbled thoughts. The dark haired boy with the onyx eyes and a slight resembleance to Severus, could very well have been the only true friend Draco had ever had. "Aren't you going to welcome our first years?"
"Shouldn't Sagara be the one doing that. He is the seventh year prefect," Draco's voice was dry. He indicated a tall brunette with brown eyes.
Blaise rolled his eyes. "But your the representative of the Slytherin's. Don't you know? Everyone's heard of you from their parents."
"An honor I abhor, I assure you," Draco said low enough for only Blaise to hear. "I'm tired. Make sure Himura does a good job at scaring the little urchins shitless."
Blaise watched Draco saunter off, pity and worry mixing into a feeling of protectiveness. Draco was becoming too quiet, too lonely, and too thin for his caring nature not to penetrate the barriers of indifference Slytherin's were required to build around their hearts. Blaise was going to make it his mission to help Draco in any way he could, even if that meant betraying what he spent years erecting.
* * *
Harry's lips curled into a frown. He was currently being ignored by Hermione and Ron, the two in their little 'love and romance' world. He felt like the third wheel. He had known since fourth year that his two best friends would eventually admit their love but he hadn't expected to feel so secluded. He hadn't taken it into consideration. "Lamentin', are ya?" Harry met Seamus's green eyes with a slight half smile.
"Kind of."
Seamus clapped his hand on Harry's arm. "Don't worry, Harry. Things'll go back to normal."
"Maybe, maybe not. I can't very well do anything about it." Harry shrugged, getting to his feet. "I'm not very hungry." He pivoted on his heels, marching through the double doors.
Seamus scowled at the empty seat beside him. Harry was so difficult sometimes! He turned the glowwer onto Ron and Hermione. How dare they treat Harry as if he didnt exist. It was discouraging. He resisted the urge to snap at the lovebirds but restrained himself. Harry wouldn't appreciate it. The damn boy was too compassionate for his own good! Operation Make Harry Happy Again was going to go underway very soon.
Harry sighed, going onto the Quidditch Pitch, broom in hand. This was the one thing that took his mind off of everything. The feeling of freedom when he was in the sky, as if the chains binding his fate were severed. He was about to mount his broom when a mocking voice interuptted his interlude. "Potter," the voice spat with cold resolve.
"Malfoy," Harry said venomously. The blonde was levitating a few feet in front of him, silver eyes glowing ferally cat-like in the darkness of night. Once again that odd frozen quality in Draco's eyes came. It left Harry a little fearful.
Draco was in no mood to deal with their squabbles, even if it meant admitting defeat for now. "Potter, I want to call a truce for the remainder of the time we're in the air." Draco dug into his pockets, producing a practice Snitch. Harry titled his head in confusion. "Do I have to spell it out for you?" Harry glowwered. "I want us to play."
"....Fine with me Malfoy."
"Good." Draco threw the Snitch into the air, waiting several seconds for it to a good headstart. The two boys shot through the sky at the same time. The snitch was teasingly floating near one of the Slytherin towers. Draco dove through the air, nearly colliding with the stone scaffolding. He spotted Harry several meters from him, chasing the winged object with ease. A tiny smile quirked Draco's lips.
He flew towards Harry and the snitch, putting on an extra burst of calculated speed, getting a few paces in front of Harry. The snitch suddenly dipped low to the ground, Draco losing his balance. Arms enfolded around his much too lean waist, righting him. Draco glanced to the side of him. Harry's face was bewildered at his actions. A minimal amount of surprise permeated Draco's emotions; that in itself making his heart jump to his throat. Gods, how long had it been since he'd felt surprise?
Harry didn't move his arms. He felt ribs underneath his hands, shocked to find himself becoming concerned for Draco's well being. He couldn't suppress the question that slipped past his lips. "Dont you eat?" Draco's body tensed and still, Harry retained his grip.
"I eat. What the hell kind of question is that?"
"Its just..you're really skinny."
Draco felt an all too familiar anger start to worm its way to the surface. "I'm afraid we're not all blessed with your need to consume food like a famine starved peasant."
"Fuck you Malfoy. I was only asking. You're such an ass."
Draco scoffed, the warmth of irate fury coursing through his viens. "Don't pry into matters that don't concern you."
"I hate you."
"Then why are your arms still around me?" Draco asked, voice soft, losing the edge of rage he had had. He missed the warmth, feeling hollow inside. He met paniced emerald orbs.
"..I..I dont know..."
"I think its time you left," Draco commanded monotonously.
Harry jadedly nodded, unwrapping his arms from his rival's slender frame. He kept his eyes on the castle, his back to Draco as he began to leave. "...You do need more sustenance..."
Draco watched him speed off. Draco felt his protruding ribs, wincing a little at how badly they were visible. Perhaps more nutrition was a good idea, if he could only bring himself to eat. A genuine smile spread across Draco's lips, the first in months. He stared at the crescent moon in the diamond etched heavens. Maybe all of his emotions weren't gone...
~ * ~
Please review! Reviews make me want to continue and the more I get, the faster the next chapter will be up.
Notes: This story will extend from the beginning of sixth year to the beginning of seventh year. I might make a sequel once I'm done with this story, depends. ^_^ The little thingie at the start of the chapter will make sense in several chapters. ^^
Title: Tada hitotsu no omoi wo (One little feeling)
summary: One little feeling, one little look, one little touch can change the emotions betwixt enemies and bring about a bond that can never be broken. Harry/Draco slash
warnings: boy x boy love
Chapter 1: A touch
"I remember spring times--
Buttercups that turned our noses yellow
While the ice cream dripped
Down the crisp golden cone
And onto our shoes.
And I remember
Talking
Of how much richer the air would taste
The sky would look
And the grass would feel
When in the summer...
We got to do it all again."
~ ~ ~
Draco irritably swatted at Pansy's hand for the upteenth time that day. The girl had become notably more grabby since summer break, she just would not give him a moment's rest. The sixteen year old had arrived merely a couple hours before, vainly trying to dissuade Pansy's advances onto him. How many times would he have to yell at the ignorant girl that he wasn't interested and never would be? Draco was thankful that Rem took Pansy from Draco's side to chat with their girlfriends on the opposite end of the Slytherin table. Alone, at last. Draco ignored the bantering of his peers and of the other Houses. It was almost time for the new batch of first years to come through the doors.
Draco had changed some since his first year at Hogwart's at the seemingly innocent age of eleven; he was all but innocent. Draco sighed, running a hand through his shoulder length golden blond hair. He wanted to cut it but his mother forbid it; said he looked like a miniature Lucius. Draco didn't take that as a compliment but exteriorly he smiled and agreed with Narcissa. His silver-leaded oculates with the flecks of slate blue were often devoid of emotion, earning many whispers that he was a Junior Death Eater. It wouldn't have been a lie. Over Christmas break, Draco would be forced to have the tattoo branded onto his arm. Had this been just a year ago, he would have been exalted at the prospect of joining Lord Voldemort. Not anymore. Not after he saw the death and destruction that Voldemort and his lackies really caused. He shuddered at the memory of a Muggle family being torn to pieces by controlled werewolves.
Fifth year had been one of terror and preparation. Studies were pressed even more fiercely on the students, especially Defense Against the Dark Arts. Draco didn't need it; he had full knowledge in every curse imaginable and some that weren't even known to the general public. Benefits of being a Death Eater's son. Draco closed his eyes momentarily. He wished he could just run away and escape his life but he knew they would find him. They always did. They were forever watching and waiting.
Draco snapped to attention upon the feeling of eyes boring into the back of his head. Upon instinct he clutched the wand hidden in the sleeves of his robe. Who had the audacity to oggle him? Draco calmed his racing nerves. It wasn't anybody that could harm it. It wasn't one of Voldemort's spies. Draco turned around abruptly, catching the peeper unawares. He was shocked to find that it was the Golden Boy. Draco let his characteristic smirk settle into place, quirking one perfectly sculpted brow, silently challenging Harry to make some sort of move.
Harry, on the other end of the Great Hall, sat completely still meeting Draco's attempts to provoke him into a fight. However, Harry couldn't bring himself to keep a lock on Draco's eyes. There was something odd about them, as if there was no soul. There was a saying that the eyes were the windows to a person's soul. Draco's were blank, no ire had even risen in them. Did that mean he was missing his soul? Harry furrowed his brows. Just how could that be?
Draco didn't appreciate the way Harry was gazing at him. It was...strange. Draco immediately swerved to his original place. Was it possible that Harry...knew? Draco shook that thought aside. That couldn't be true. Hell, Draco barely knew what was wrong with him so how could Harry? The only one who had a remote idea of his affliction was Severus, mainly due to the fact that Draco required a Dreamless Sleep Potion in order to drift into slumber and so was required to inform his mentor what was wrong. Severus had seemed perplexed.
All Draco knew was that he was losing his emotions. He didn't become angry, he didn't become sad, he never was happy. He still felt a blanketed fear but that was dimming as well. Severus had asked him to tell Dumbledore. Draco refused. He would not be treated as an invalid. Anyway, who needed emotions? Anger led to confrontations that ended up in broken bones and bruises. Sorrow made one weak and pathetic. Merriness was for those who deserved it and Draco came to the conclusion that he did not. So, what did he have to lose? Love and hate went hand-in-hand with his vanishing feelings. What was the point of those? There wasn't any.
Draco took little interest in the fresh first years. He stared off into space, debating his future and what the likelihood of his surviving would be. Dumbledore's voice was garbled, clapping from tables other than the Slytherin resounded. Draco didn't bother with learning why the sudden rush of exaltment. He slid a long and delicate finger across his goblet's rim unwittingly. How could he have lost so much control on his life? He used to be secure in his beliefs. He would follow his father's path for him, no questions asked. But he did asked questions. Why the need to destroy Muggles? Why follow a psychotic's rule? Why the countless deaths of innocents that didn't harm anyone? Lucius used to tell him that Muggles were a disease to the planet and thus had to be wiped out. Draco saw his own race and those of non-magic people the same. Both were a disease in his opinion.
A tap on his shoulder snapped him from his reverie. He put a patented glare on. Blaise Zabini, perhaps the only person in Slytherin-the entire school for that matter-that Draco could stand. Blaise knew when to keep his mouth shut and when to offer a conversation. Right now, Draco wanted to keep his mind from drifting to his jumbled thoughts. The dark haired boy with the onyx eyes and a slight resembleance to Severus, could very well have been the only true friend Draco had ever had. "Aren't you going to welcome our first years?"
"Shouldn't Sagara be the one doing that. He is the seventh year prefect," Draco's voice was dry. He indicated a tall brunette with brown eyes.
Blaise rolled his eyes. "But your the representative of the Slytherin's. Don't you know? Everyone's heard of you from their parents."
"An honor I abhor, I assure you," Draco said low enough for only Blaise to hear. "I'm tired. Make sure Himura does a good job at scaring the little urchins shitless."
Blaise watched Draco saunter off, pity and worry mixing into a feeling of protectiveness. Draco was becoming too quiet, too lonely, and too thin for his caring nature not to penetrate the barriers of indifference Slytherin's were required to build around their hearts. Blaise was going to make it his mission to help Draco in any way he could, even if that meant betraying what he spent years erecting.
* * *
Harry's lips curled into a frown. He was currently being ignored by Hermione and Ron, the two in their little 'love and romance' world. He felt like the third wheel. He had known since fourth year that his two best friends would eventually admit their love but he hadn't expected to feel so secluded. He hadn't taken it into consideration. "Lamentin', are ya?" Harry met Seamus's green eyes with a slight half smile.
"Kind of."
Seamus clapped his hand on Harry's arm. "Don't worry, Harry. Things'll go back to normal."
"Maybe, maybe not. I can't very well do anything about it." Harry shrugged, getting to his feet. "I'm not very hungry." He pivoted on his heels, marching through the double doors.
Seamus scowled at the empty seat beside him. Harry was so difficult sometimes! He turned the glowwer onto Ron and Hermione. How dare they treat Harry as if he didnt exist. It was discouraging. He resisted the urge to snap at the lovebirds but restrained himself. Harry wouldn't appreciate it. The damn boy was too compassionate for his own good! Operation Make Harry Happy Again was going to go underway very soon.
Harry sighed, going onto the Quidditch Pitch, broom in hand. This was the one thing that took his mind off of everything. The feeling of freedom when he was in the sky, as if the chains binding his fate were severed. He was about to mount his broom when a mocking voice interuptted his interlude. "Potter," the voice spat with cold resolve.
"Malfoy," Harry said venomously. The blonde was levitating a few feet in front of him, silver eyes glowing ferally cat-like in the darkness of night. Once again that odd frozen quality in Draco's eyes came. It left Harry a little fearful.
Draco was in no mood to deal with their squabbles, even if it meant admitting defeat for now. "Potter, I want to call a truce for the remainder of the time we're in the air." Draco dug into his pockets, producing a practice Snitch. Harry titled his head in confusion. "Do I have to spell it out for you?" Harry glowwered. "I want us to play."
"....Fine with me Malfoy."
"Good." Draco threw the Snitch into the air, waiting several seconds for it to a good headstart. The two boys shot through the sky at the same time. The snitch was teasingly floating near one of the Slytherin towers. Draco dove through the air, nearly colliding with the stone scaffolding. He spotted Harry several meters from him, chasing the winged object with ease. A tiny smile quirked Draco's lips.
He flew towards Harry and the snitch, putting on an extra burst of calculated speed, getting a few paces in front of Harry. The snitch suddenly dipped low to the ground, Draco losing his balance. Arms enfolded around his much too lean waist, righting him. Draco glanced to the side of him. Harry's face was bewildered at his actions. A minimal amount of surprise permeated Draco's emotions; that in itself making his heart jump to his throat. Gods, how long had it been since he'd felt surprise?
Harry didn't move his arms. He felt ribs underneath his hands, shocked to find himself becoming concerned for Draco's well being. He couldn't suppress the question that slipped past his lips. "Dont you eat?" Draco's body tensed and still, Harry retained his grip.
"I eat. What the hell kind of question is that?"
"Its just..you're really skinny."
Draco felt an all too familiar anger start to worm its way to the surface. "I'm afraid we're not all blessed with your need to consume food like a famine starved peasant."
"Fuck you Malfoy. I was only asking. You're such an ass."
Draco scoffed, the warmth of irate fury coursing through his viens. "Don't pry into matters that don't concern you."
"I hate you."
"Then why are your arms still around me?" Draco asked, voice soft, losing the edge of rage he had had. He missed the warmth, feeling hollow inside. He met paniced emerald orbs.
"..I..I dont know..."
"I think its time you left," Draco commanded monotonously.
Harry jadedly nodded, unwrapping his arms from his rival's slender frame. He kept his eyes on the castle, his back to Draco as he began to leave. "...You do need more sustenance..."
Draco watched him speed off. Draco felt his protruding ribs, wincing a little at how badly they were visible. Perhaps more nutrition was a good idea, if he could only bring himself to eat. A genuine smile spread across Draco's lips, the first in months. He stared at the crescent moon in the diamond etched heavens. Maybe all of his emotions weren't gone...
~ * ~
Please review! Reviews make me want to continue and the more I get, the faster the next chapter will be up.
Notes: This story will extend from the beginning of sixth year to the beginning of seventh year. I might make a sequel once I'm done with this story, depends. ^_^ The little thingie at the start of the chapter will make sense in several chapters. ^^