Obsidian Empress: I did keep writing and I will continue to keep writing. You don't need to order me. A swift kick in the butt comes fairly often from my sister. I emailed you. I hope you get it.
IsabelA113: Thanks for reading my stuff and I'm glad you're liking it. I, too, think this is working out for me.
JaneyLane5: First off, love you name. Second, 'Don't feed the suicidal boy' was a stroke of genius on my part (at least in my opinion). I'm glad I'm not the only one who liked it. *passes a cookie*
Deedee: Thanks for the Life Left Behind praises. I don't know if you saw it, but I posted an A/N about a sequel. My sister does have to wait for the next chapters. She just doesn't have to wait as long.
Staci (because I'm not typing out your Harry Potter praises): Thanks and – er – I already said other things about this little review. I do appreciate it.
Tsuyuno: I'm glad you're staying around. Don't worry. This cutting won't continue through the entire story.
Tine: I will try to update more often. I will.
Everyone and anyone else who's reading and/or reviewing: thanks for taking the time. It means a lot to me.
Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. You can tell this because there is no naked mud wrestling in cannon. She is a goddess and I am not worthy. You could sue me but all you would get is a collection of Alan Rickman movies.
Falling Chapter Six
Draco's eyes flickered for
a moment, before shutting them again into blackness. When he tried to open them
a second time, a double image of Blaise floated before him before combining into
one. He tried to groan, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Blaise looked
so concerned and Draco partially felt guilty for putting him through so much.
The smile that graced his face wasn't as forced as
Draco had expected it to be, and when Blaise wrapped his arms around Draco's
torso with some hesitation, it turned into an outright grin.
"What happened?"
Draco croaked out, still in Blaise's embrace. The arms were familiar, the scent
as well, and Draco sighed as he turned his head slightly into the crook of
Blaise's neck. Once he realized what he was doing, Draco pulled his face away
but allowed Blaise to continue to hold him.
"I'm not really sure.
I forgot my Transfiguration book and I saw that we needed it so I was coming
back and you were going to the Great Hall. All of a sudden you looked weak and
I barely got to you when you started to collapse. I knew you wouldn't want to
go back to Madam Pomfrey, so I decided to bring you back here. You took a total
of about eight steps before passing out completely. Luckily that new girl,
Kali, was around and she helped me bring you back here."
"Kali?" said
Draco. "The Gryffindor?" Blaise shrugged,
nodding. Draco couldn't help the groan this time. "Potter's friend?" Blaise
nodded a second time. "Why her of all people?"
"Dunno,
but she was bloody helpful. Made it a lot easier to carry
your fat arse back here." He meant it to be funny,
but Draco's face contoured with such despair at the full realization of how
sickly he did look that Blaise immediately regretted his words. "Are you
alright?"
"Not fully, but I
guess I will be. Thanks for not taking me to Madam Pomfrey."
"No problem."
Blaise's lips took on a soft smile as he looked down at Draco stretched out
over the sofa. Their eyes met and locked; Blaise lifted a hand, trailing his
fingers along Draco's jaw line. Draco turned his head into the touch, his
eyelashes fluttering, but when Blaise's fingers stilled, Draco's eyes became
set again.
"Please don't,"
he said, barely above a whisper, but Blaise heard it and he moved his fingers
away immediately. "Blaise, I'm sorry, it's just. . ."
"I know. It's over. We're over. I know. Don't say it
again."
"Okay."
"Oh -" he added
as an afterthought, "Kali. I told her about . . . last year. I thought she
should know the real story instead of hearing it through gossip." Draco
nodded. "I guess the way I tell it . . . well, she figured us out. Me out, anyway. She knows about us. Or the
us there used to be."
Draco was silent but he
nodded anyway. "Okay."
"I thought you should
know."
"Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Blaise."
"Sure. Er - I have to
go. I would stay here if I could but breakfast is almost over and I'm going to
be late for Transfiguration if I don't go now, and you know how McGonagall can
be."
"Sure. Yeah.
Go."
Blaise snatched his
Transfiguration book from a nearby chair and paused to stare at Draco.
"Take care of yourself, Draco. You look like shit." With that, Blaise
left the common room and the only sound left inside was the ringing of Draco's
dead laughter.
~*~
Hours had passed and Draco
still lay on the couch looking at his schedule but not really seeing it.
She knows about us. Or the us
there used to be.
Draco couldn't help but snort
as that sardonic laughter filled the air, polluting it, making it dirty. Every
time Draco laughed like that (the way a madman laughs when he's just committed
a murder) it made him feel like he was contaminating the air about him. Just by
doing it he was beginning the process of an infestation and soon, everyone
would be infected and laughing like a loon. The thought of the word 'loon' made
Draco burst into a second fit of laughs.
There wasn't anything that
was particularly funny about the situation. He supposed his laughter was the
only way Draco knew how to deal with someone you don't even know learning the
biggest secret that you've ever tried to hide. Draco would sooner tell every
last person in Hogwarts down to the first year Hufflepuffs that he cut himself,
starved himself, and suffered from severe bouts of insomnia before he'd admit
that he was gay. Not curious, not even bisexual, but flat out gay.
In his fourth year, Draco
had gone to the Yule Ball with Pansy Parkinson. Over the summer, his father
continued to tell him what a good family Pansy had come from, even if it wasn't
the best looking. When he got back to school, Draco and Pansy had become a
couple. He was never attracted to her but he figured that she just wasn't
pretty enough, so on the side he began to get intimate with other girls. Draco
even went to the extent with sleeping with some of them but he always felt
dead, like he was only going through the steps.
The entire fifth year was
spent trying to find a girl who would make his mind and heart soar. His sixth
year started in the same fashion but it was only Halloween when, in an
inebriated state, he had stuck his tongue in Blaise Zabini's mouth and finally
felt alive. If memory served correctly, and it may or may not have considering
the alcohol consumed, he stuck his tongue in other places of Blaise's anatomy
that night as well. They skipped out on the feast and instead, Draco and Blaise
had a rather brutal shag on the common room floor that
resulted in bruises for them both. Blaise ended up saying they had a feast of
their own sort. That had always made Draco blush, but he never disagreed.
The next day when Blaise
confronted him and they were considerably sobered up, Draco had tried to excuse
his emotional reaction as a side affect of the alcohol. Blaise was, apparently,
trying to tell himself the same thing. They sat side by side in an old and
forgotten part of the dungeons trying to convince themselves and each other
that there were no feelings.
"We drank a lot," Draco said to Blaise,
watching how the dust would scatter when Blaise made abrupt movement with his
hand.
"I've never been that drunk in my entire
life," Blaise concurred. "Not that it means much because I've never
been drunk before period but still. The sentiment is still the same."
"Right," said Draco, smaller this time.
"Well I have been and that was the drunkest I've ever been. I don't even
really remember what happened. Just that we . . . er - I believe there was
shagging."
"From the bruises on my legs and the faint
pain in my ass, I'd have to agree with you."
Draco's lips twitched at Blaise's words and he ran
a hand over his legs thinking of the faint splotches on his own legs and knees.
"Rather vulgar, don't you think?"
"If your ass hurt because someone stuck their
dick up it, you'd be vulgar too."
No response Draco could come up with that felt
right.
"I'm not gay, you know," said Blaise.
"I've been with plenty of girls."
"You aren't the only one," Draco snapped.
"I've been with plenty of girls myself. Plenty."
Blaise was silent for some time before saying,
"I don't know if I'm trying to convince you or myself more."
Maybe it was the tone of Blaise's voice, so
stripped and honest that Draco couldn't lie to him, or maybe it was the fact
that Blaise's words hit so close to home. Draco wasn't really sure. He had been
so close to calling Blaise a queer and leaving it right there, but Draco just
couldn't do it. He thought of how he would feel if their positions were
reversed and he was the one who had admitted the thought first. Draco thought
of how he would feel if Blaise called him a queer and left it at that, and
knowing the way it would feel kept Draco from doing it. There were times when
he could be cold but the earnest tone in Blaise's voice would not allow this to
be one of those times.
"Me too," he admitted, softly.
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Maybe. . ." Blaise started but he never
got to finish because his words were cut off by Draco's mouth covering his own.
Both mouths were hesitant at first, their eyes shut tight as if they couldn't
bear to see what they were doing. Figuring Draco had made the first move,
Blaise slightly pressed his lips against Draco's only to have Draco press back.
A few minutes later, they had wrapped their arms around each other and were
pressed chest to chest.
"You were saying?" asked Draco, abruptly
pulling away.
"Maybe. . ." he stammered. "I was going to say - well - maybe we should kiss and
find out . . . but- er - you beat me to it."
"And?"
It seemed like an eternity. Draco stared at Blaise
and Blaise stared at Draco. Their mouths were set with uncertainty, their eyes
fleeting and refusing to meet for longer than ten seconds. Draco felt his lips
twitch and he shifted in his seat.
"Maybe. . ." Blaise started again.
"Maybe - just maybe - I liked it."
Draco was quiet for a long while, Blaise wanting to
run away screaming because Draco hadn't liked it, but then, so quite that
Blaise barely believed his ears, "Me too."
They had become a couple
after that. Draco finally came to terms with his sexuality, admitting to
himself that he was what he was, and there was nothing to do about it. Blaise
had many of the same problems that he did, and he was more than willing to oblige
when Draco requested that they remain a complete secret. Dealing with it
personally was one thing. Dealing with it along with the rest of the school was
quite another. In fact, both Blaise and Draco were still dealing with it and
now that new girl, the Gryffindor, Potter's
friend of all people, knew. It was his biggest secret and Potter now had access
to it. It was almost too much to think about and so Draco dropped back on the
couch, staring at his schedule but not really seeing it. He had Charms in a half
hour. It would prove to be the best distraction possible so he waited for the
time to come to go to class.
~*~
"I told McGonagall
that you weren't feeling well so you stayed behind for the first period,"
said Blaise sitting down beside him.
"I know. Must you sit
with me?" snapped Draco. "Just leave me alone."
He had gone to Charms like
he promised himself he would and spent lunch with McGonagall going over his
Transfiguration class with her. She had been kind, having heard that he fainted
this morning before class and was rather helpful in his progress through the
lesson. Ever since the moment he cracked, everyone including the teachers were being extra careful around him. No one wanted to set
him off and no one wanted him to be found two weeks from now, mutilated by his
own hand, and dead as stone.
Classes that afternoon had
been simple for Draco to deal with. Blaise had been there but because Lupin,
who returned as the Defense Against the Dark Arts
teacher, and Trelawney had rather intense (or as intense as classes for
Trelawney could get) lessons, Blaise had no time to confront Draco. Dinner was
proving to be different and Draco continued on playing with his food, his focus
being on eating exactly a third of what he had piled on his plate. So far, he
was up to one-tenth and Blaise was throwing off his concentration.
"Draco? Look, I'm
sorry."
"For
what?"
"For whatever I did
that seems to be pissing you off."
"Your mere existence
is pissing me off. If you could fall off the face of the planet
that would be really nice."
It seemed as if Blaise's
entire face fell and he glared at Draco. "I can't believe there was once a
time when I was happy around you. I tried to do something nice for you today
and all you do is throw it back in my face. I always try to help you and you always
throw it back in my face. It happened last year and it's happening this year,
too."
"Shut up,"
hissed Draco. "You're drawing attention."
"I don't give a fuck
if I draw attention. You attacked me last year and you're attacking me this
year, too, and I'm sick and tired of being attacked. Knock it the fuck off,
Draco, before you don't have anyone who cares about you anymore. I know that
you loved your father, but the best of you died when the dementors sucked his
soul away."
"Shut up, Blaise. I
don't want to fucking hear it."
By now the entire
Slytherin table was staring. Most of the hall was focused on the two as well.
"Well you're going to
fucking hear it anyway. I know what happened to Lucius was terrible. We all know that what happened to Lucius
was terrible."
"Shut up,
Blaise."
"The dementor's kiss is pretty bad shit but it didn't happen to
you and you act like it did."
Draco covered his ears
with his hands. "I told you to shut up."
"You're upset and that's
expected but you can't push everyone away, because pretty soon you're going to
have no one, and you're going to end up back on the floor in our common room
without Ruby being around to find you. What would your mother do? She can't
lose her husband and her son."
"SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU
FUCKING PRICK!" Draco screamed before lunging himself at Blaise and
grasping him around the throat. He was vaguely aware of Blaise's hands clawing
at his wrists and fingers, some of the many hands trying to pry Draco off, but
all he could feel was rage trying to escape through a physical outlet.
A pair of strong arms
wrapped around his waist and Draco was yanked off Blaise. He could distantly
see the headmaster and most of the teachers rushing over in their direction.
Professor Snape was the one restraining him, he could now see. As the anger
drained from him, Draco's muscles went limp, his vision coming back to order,
and Draco could see that Blaise was coughing and sputtering, clawing at
McGonagall who held him up while he gasped for air. His skin was returning to
tan from the sickly purple it had been and the redness was slowly receding from
his bloodshot eyes. Around his neck were the red imprints from where Draco had
been strangling him. Just the sight of those prints made Draco's entire stomach
lurch, as it begged to empty the little contents it contained. Their eyes
briefly met but Blaise's held no love or understanding. Draco knew it wouldn't
be there but it still felt like he had just been kicked in the balls at seeing
the loathing (fear) and something
else he couldn't quite distinguish.
As he was led from the
Great Hall by Snape, he could see McGonagall up ahead with Blaise. It looked
like they were both being taken to the hospital wing and Draco cringed at the
thought. He didn't want to be there and especially not under these
circumstances. He had fainted this morning and Blaise had been the one who took
care of him. He had so many problems last year and Blaise was the one who had
held him, stroked his hair, and told him that everything would be alright. Was
this how he repaid him for his efforts? Throwing himself at Blaise and trying
to drain the last of life out of him? Draco had never felt more
filthy in his life.
Madam Pomfrey had looked
at Draco with disappointment as if to say, Well this is a fine mess you've gotten yourself into, and led him to
one of the beds where he was to stay the night. Blaise, also, was to stay but
Draco felt rabid, like a criminal when McGonagall request that they be kept at
separate ends of the room and a charm was placed so that Draco couldn't go near
him. He blinked back the tears, he couldn't, wouldn't allow himself to cry, now that he had done what he had done. He hadn't meant to
hurt Blaise. He had been angry, too angry, and Blaise was staring at him from
across the room with a look Draco had only ever seen once before on Blaise
Zabini's face. It was broken, disappointed, and deeply hurt. Draco cursed
himself for putting it there a second time.
"Draco?" said Blaise, rolling over on the
concrete floor to wrap his arms around his lover's stomach.
"Mmm?" he
replied almost asleep.
"Look at me," he softly commanded and so
Draco opened his eyes to look down at Blaise. "I love you."
Draco's jaw slightly slacked but he made no reply.
Not even so much as an exhalation escaped between his lips at the admission.
For a brief moment, Blaise's face was filled with that hurt as if Draco had
just scarred him deeper than Draco scarred himself. The guilt built in the pit
of his stomach, Draco was urged to say anything to fix the damage he had done,
but it was gone as suddenly as it had appeared.
"It's okay," he whispered. "I knew
you didn't. . .I mean, I hoped, but I knew. . ."
Blaise paused and Draco took a deep breath but Blaise started back in again and
the courage he had to speak forever fleeted. "It's just - I do and I
thought you should know."
Words caught in his throat and all Draco could do was nod while a lone, silent tear rolled down Blaise's cheek.
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