WARNING: Slash, means homosexual or guy/guy, whatever you want to call it,
relationships. If you don't like it, don't read it. And for those of you
who might think this warning is overkill, if I get a single flame from
people who don't believe in gay relationships, I will laugh in your face.
Disclaimer: If only I could own Harry and Draco. *drool*. No, of course I'm not thinking of unspeakable things they would do to me.
A/N: I'm updating this because one of my friends literally said she would hurt me if I didn't update soon, so here you go. Shout out to her, she's sharing a penname w/ another friend on harrypotterfanfiction.com, Kami. Kind of have writer's block w/ this story, though, so if anyone want to help me out, IM or summat. I have AIM, find the sn on my profile.
A/N 2: I'm going to do italics surrounded by ~, b/c I can't figure out how to do it and have it appear once uploaded. For example, ~blah~ is "blah" italicized
A/N 3: I'm not really sure about the rating, I think it's somewhere between PG-13 and R, but I'm not really too sure, so if it gets too bad, I may change the rating.
Enjoy!
Essence of Your Life: Chapter 2: Sick
Every time I think Harry Potter cannot send me yet another curveball, he does. He has transformed from the young and foolish nasty git who spurned my friendship five years ago, to a mature young man who tries his very best and is yet so sick of it, all of it.
Sick of everyone expecting perfection, sick of everyone hoping believing he's going to save the world, sick of everyone saying he didn't do something when he did and he can't take it back and it will never be erased and it's forever.
He's sick of forever.
I can see it in his eyes
The way his eyes are so empty, even when he's flying, the former love of his life.
The way his hands are so pale even though he's outside in the sun for at least six hours a day
The way his hair now lies lifeless and dull, when it used to spring up almost as high as his spirits were.
The way his-
"Malfoy, payin' attention there? Don' want ter hurt yerself again like yeh did third year, do yeh?"
They should put that rabid beast they call a teacher to sleep already, like they put-
No. I mustn't think of it.
Who knows who's listening to my thoughts right now.
But I wonder if Potter knows . . .
What the hell, it's a crazy week.
"Hey, Potter!"
"I flipped off McGonagall, what makes you think I'll be paying any attention to you this year, Malfoy?"
Damn, he has grown some spine at last. Perhaps now he is worthy of-
"Are yeh payin' attention or not? This time, if yeh're arm gets ripped off, theh whole class is here to see that it's yeh're own fault." Hmph. Why is everyone growing a spine all of a sudden?
"Now, today, we're learnin' abou' wyverns. Now who knows what theh are?"
Mudblood's hand shoots up. Surprise surprise.
"Granger, when will you stop sucking up to every teacher in the school and act like someone normal for once? Oh wait, you don't suck up to teachers, you just suck them."
Her eyes fill with tears and I am feeling bored
"Shut up, Malfoy!" Ever since Weasel started going out with Mudblood, he's been trying to defend her.
"This is surely an ironic situation. You would think that anyone in Granger's company would actually begin to use semi-intelligent sentences, what with her spouting off facts like an encyclopedia every other second. Instead, your brain seems to have shrunk. Or is it just your balls?" You would think that after five years, Weasel would have learned some decent insults by now. Disgusting, really.
"Malfoy, get yer mind outta theh gutter an'-"
"Ferret, if you're still stuck on sexual innuendos as insults, you're the one who's balls are shrinking." Odd. Potter used to get offensive and steamed up when I started insulting his bodyguards. Now he doesn't even bother with standing up. He's still sitting there, sprawled on the ground. "That and the fact that you seem to have an odd fixation on Ron and Hermione's relationship. After all, why else are you commenting on what they do behind closed doors rather than other facets of their personality?"
"Pothead, they have no other personality to comment on." I rather doubt Potter will snap at that, Weasel is the only one who actually might try to attack me physically. And even if Potter does something, he can't touch me.
~But you want him to~
Because I'm frozen in myself and I can't get out. I feel nothing and it makes me sick. When I was a child, not yet jaded by my father, I never reached out to my mother and giggled, I never ran around in the sun and smiled at the joy of life.
When I was a child, I just sat there, waiting for my caretaker to pick me up and feed me. I just waited outside in the shade so I wouldn't get sunburn despite the fact that my caretaker could cure it in a heartbeat if I got it.
I don't feel, and I'm sick of it.
The only time I feel is when I face off with Potter. He's the only one who insults me back intelligently.
It's the only time I feel.
"Malfoy, you know Hermione's muggle-born. Your nickname for her is "Mudblood". And there you go, another facet to her." Holy shit, Harry Potter, the Glorious Boy-Who-Lived actually used the "m" word. (I'm being sarcastic, fuckwit).
"Harry! Detention! Yeh aren' supposed ter use theh M-word in fron' o' Hermione!" Will wonders never cease. First McGonagall lets Potter off, now the Beast is cracking down on Wonder Boy.
"Yeh too, Malfoy. Yeh're the one tha' started it." Annoying little gnat. I supposed it will set me back an hour or so before I get out of it. Pfuit, I can get out of it like that *snaps*. But I won't. I won't give them another opportunity to try and belittle me. I will show them the obviousness of my superiority and I will triumph.
So then why do I feel so sick?
Disclaimer: If only I could own Harry and Draco. *drool*. No, of course I'm not thinking of unspeakable things they would do to me.
A/N: I'm updating this because one of my friends literally said she would hurt me if I didn't update soon, so here you go. Shout out to her, she's sharing a penname w/ another friend on harrypotterfanfiction.com, Kami. Kind of have writer's block w/ this story, though, so if anyone want to help me out, IM or summat. I have AIM, find the sn on my profile.
A/N 2: I'm going to do italics surrounded by ~, b/c I can't figure out how to do it and have it appear once uploaded. For example, ~blah~ is "blah" italicized
A/N 3: I'm not really sure about the rating, I think it's somewhere between PG-13 and R, but I'm not really too sure, so if it gets too bad, I may change the rating.
Enjoy!
Essence of Your Life: Chapter 2: Sick
Every time I think Harry Potter cannot send me yet another curveball, he does. He has transformed from the young and foolish nasty git who spurned my friendship five years ago, to a mature young man who tries his very best and is yet so sick of it, all of it.
Sick of everyone expecting perfection, sick of everyone hoping believing he's going to save the world, sick of everyone saying he didn't do something when he did and he can't take it back and it will never be erased and it's forever.
He's sick of forever.
I can see it in his eyes
The way his eyes are so empty, even when he's flying, the former love of his life.
The way his hands are so pale even though he's outside in the sun for at least six hours a day
The way his hair now lies lifeless and dull, when it used to spring up almost as high as his spirits were.
The way his-
"Malfoy, payin' attention there? Don' want ter hurt yerself again like yeh did third year, do yeh?"
They should put that rabid beast they call a teacher to sleep already, like they put-
No. I mustn't think of it.
Who knows who's listening to my thoughts right now.
But I wonder if Potter knows . . .
What the hell, it's a crazy week.
"Hey, Potter!"
"I flipped off McGonagall, what makes you think I'll be paying any attention to you this year, Malfoy?"
Damn, he has grown some spine at last. Perhaps now he is worthy of-
"Are yeh payin' attention or not? This time, if yeh're arm gets ripped off, theh whole class is here to see that it's yeh're own fault." Hmph. Why is everyone growing a spine all of a sudden?
"Now, today, we're learnin' abou' wyverns. Now who knows what theh are?"
Mudblood's hand shoots up. Surprise surprise.
"Granger, when will you stop sucking up to every teacher in the school and act like someone normal for once? Oh wait, you don't suck up to teachers, you just suck them."
Her eyes fill with tears and I am feeling bored
"Shut up, Malfoy!" Ever since Weasel started going out with Mudblood, he's been trying to defend her.
"This is surely an ironic situation. You would think that anyone in Granger's company would actually begin to use semi-intelligent sentences, what with her spouting off facts like an encyclopedia every other second. Instead, your brain seems to have shrunk. Or is it just your balls?" You would think that after five years, Weasel would have learned some decent insults by now. Disgusting, really.
"Malfoy, get yer mind outta theh gutter an'-"
"Ferret, if you're still stuck on sexual innuendos as insults, you're the one who's balls are shrinking." Odd. Potter used to get offensive and steamed up when I started insulting his bodyguards. Now he doesn't even bother with standing up. He's still sitting there, sprawled on the ground. "That and the fact that you seem to have an odd fixation on Ron and Hermione's relationship. After all, why else are you commenting on what they do behind closed doors rather than other facets of their personality?"
"Pothead, they have no other personality to comment on." I rather doubt Potter will snap at that, Weasel is the only one who actually might try to attack me physically. And even if Potter does something, he can't touch me.
~But you want him to~
Because I'm frozen in myself and I can't get out. I feel nothing and it makes me sick. When I was a child, not yet jaded by my father, I never reached out to my mother and giggled, I never ran around in the sun and smiled at the joy of life.
When I was a child, I just sat there, waiting for my caretaker to pick me up and feed me. I just waited outside in the shade so I wouldn't get sunburn despite the fact that my caretaker could cure it in a heartbeat if I got it.
I don't feel, and I'm sick of it.
The only time I feel is when I face off with Potter. He's the only one who insults me back intelligently.
It's the only time I feel.
"Malfoy, you know Hermione's muggle-born. Your nickname for her is "Mudblood". And there you go, another facet to her." Holy shit, Harry Potter, the Glorious Boy-Who-Lived actually used the "m" word. (I'm being sarcastic, fuckwit).
"Harry! Detention! Yeh aren' supposed ter use theh M-word in fron' o' Hermione!" Will wonders never cease. First McGonagall lets Potter off, now the Beast is cracking down on Wonder Boy.
"Yeh too, Malfoy. Yeh're the one tha' started it." Annoying little gnat. I supposed it will set me back an hour or so before I get out of it. Pfuit, I can get out of it like that *snaps*. But I won't. I won't give them another opportunity to try and belittle me. I will show them the obviousness of my superiority and I will triumph.
So then why do I feel so sick?