Disclaimer: All the characters used in this story are the sole property of J.K Rowling (and some other big company whose name I do not remember. Sorry, no insults intended, just my bad memory). They are not mine. I take credit for the characters' actions and thoughts in this story, though (often used as they are).
A/N: Another short ficlet about Harry and Draco.
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Harry/Draco (sort of)
Warnings: slash (homosexual relationship), angst
Feedback: Will be saved into a special folder on my harddrive and taken into consideration.
The Answer"Do you love me?"
Your voice is quiet. Hopeful – but also resigned. A strange combination. But then, you have always been a creature of contrasts. Cheerful and happy – depressed and desperate. Laughing. Sad. Full of light. So frighteningly dark. You can love, so much. And you can hate, so deeply.
I'm lucky, I guess, that you give your love to me now and reserve your hate for him. I don't know if I could bear the burden of your hate – real hate. What we had – what we thought was hate – I understand now it was just a game, a childish… I know the strength of your hate now. No, I wouldn't be able to bear it. I would break, I would be destroyed, utterly. But your love – your love is almost as hard to bear.
There is a place for many people in your heart. Sometimes I think you love all the people, in a way. Sometimes I even think you love him, in a twisted, desperate sort of way.
Once you said he was your father just as much as James Potter, for he shaped you, made you who you are. I think that is one of the reasons you hate him so much. Because you hate who you have become.
It is said that you have to love yourself before you can learn to love the others. It is not true. Love for others can replace the love for yourself. Not totally, not really, but you can bear to live that way. Despite the emptiness…
It is painful, to see you love so much. It is painful to see you give your love to me. It is painful to hear you say the words. Because…
Because loving yourself doesn't mean you know how to love the others. It doesn't even mean you are able to learn. I love myself. Myself.
"Do you love me?"
Why do you ask? You know the answer.
"No."