HEY EVERYONE. Thanks for clicking, and reading. Well, HOPEFULLY reading anyway. If not, thanks for clicking and ditching, you ass!!!! ANYWAY, this contains a lot of yaoi-ness, and obsession with pretty boys named Draco. This kind of, in a way reflects ME, but like, not really so don't get any perverted ideas you pervert! :) Besides, if you knew someone as pretty as Draco, wouldn't YOU go for him/her?! Yeah, I think so.
Haha, my spellchecker was like "Hermione = Hormone!", so that was kind of funny.
Kay, sorry, moving on.
THIS ALSO DOESN'T HAVE A TITLE.
The Untitled Story
Even as he lay awake in bed, he couldn't seem to stop thinking about the one thing he really shouldn't have thought about in the first place. Given that Draco was a malicious git, he was a pretty malicious git, and as far as Harry could think, he had always been a pretty malicious git. Maybe he just hadn't noticed with the blonde pouring obscenities about him and his friends.
Maybe he was in denial.
After all, this was his rival, his enemy, his sworn opponent. Sworn. It couldn't be changed, just like how the dark color of his hair clashed with the silver blonde. It almost hurt him to think about just how different they both were. Harry didn't like it at all.
He remembered when he started really watching Draco Malfoy. It was a sudden inspiration, and his complex towards the Slytherin almost dissolved, and became more of a obsessive infatuation. He wanted to memorize every detail about the boy, and not just by staring. When Harry crawled into bed, the only way he could sleep anymore was if he imagined another boy in there with him, a pointy, blond boy in particular.
It was almost a sense of sadistic comfort really, the boy would really do anything just to annoy him. What Malfoy didn't know was that Harry always generally felt annoyed with him for just being alive and healthy.
Whenever Harry stared at Draco, and right before Draco stared back, the blond boy would always have the most frighteningly lonely look in his eyes, and Harry wouldn't be able to look away, even when Draco opened his mouth to insult him.
If anyone could, Harry Potter could understand loneliness. After all, he grew up with possibly the single most unloving family in all of Britain. He really had no one. He had always been alone, but whenever he saw Draco, he felt it.
It was different though. Harry did have best friends (as opposed to lurking bodyguards) and they were the "I'll die for you because our loyalty is so strong" type. It was a bit depressing however, that both Ron and Hermione had gone off to pursue what would best be described as "love" lives. Hermione had been getting loads of letters from Quidditch star, Krum, and Hermione had been sending sacks of "fan mail" - as Ron teasingly described. Ron on the other hand was infatuated with a blonde fourth-year girl from Hufflepuff named LaRice, who coincidentally sported a look very similar as that of one Fleur Delacour.
It wasn't all bad, it was just more than Harry would have really liked at the moment. After all, since forever, he had wanted some space and time to himself. Now, he just had too much of it. It might have been unbearable, but because of it, now he had the obsession with Draco to keep him just a bit busy.
Harry couldn't decide which was worse.
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It wasn't until the winter holidays came around that anything concerning Draco and someone other than himself happened.
Harry always stayed during the holidays because the Dursleys always made him, and always because he would have rather fought ten different pets of Hagrid than have gone to the Dursley's (and willingly, to boot) because after all, he had a choice.
...And it wasn't every holiday Draco Malfoy decided to play stayover, too.
Nobody knew why, but it obviously wasn't his choice since Draco was seen lumbering about by himself frowning, and pouting, and generally being a bad sport. Which wasn't really saying much, since Draco was always negative about life, but Harry could see the difference, and that's what really mattered anyway. Not even Crabbe and Goyle were seen with him, even though they stayed, too. Harry always made sure to stare over at the Slytherin table during any meal (in fact, Harry made quite a point of it) and Draco never even bothered to look up.
It was breakfast, and Harry and Ron were eating in a rather lazy fashion. They were both supposed to be facing each other, but Harry's eyes left his plate so often it felt like he was facing Draco instead, who seemed rather busy at the moment making sure every pore of his toast was slaughtered in what definitely wasn't jam or butter. Ron, on the other hand, didn't take notice of this since he was too busy glaring at the boy chatting with LaRice.
"Look at her, Harry, talking to some Hufflepuff boy like I don't even exist. She's doing it on purpose, I'll bet. Oh, god, what if she likes boys with brown hair? Do you think I could color mine?"
Harry blinked. "Ron, why would she care?"
"She probably doesn't, but probably likes him better than me because honestly, Harry, my hair doesn't really go with hers..."
"Look, if she was that shallow, I'm sure you wouldn't have hit it off that great in the first place."
"But what if she is? What if she really cares about my hair matching with hers?"
"Red and blonde go perfectly well together... And don't all hair colors match?"
"I wish I had your hair, Harry. Black hair and blonde hair go so well together..." Ron sighed, picking at his own red locks. Harry's eyes traveled over to the now very familiar blonde Slytherin. He suddenly felt rather flattered.
"Thanks."
Ron blinked. "You're welcome?"