Notes: Sorry this took me so long sweethearts but I have had so many issues with this fic but for some reason I was spurred into writing it today. We are back to Harry's PoV in this chapter, it won't be a happy one …not that any of them are but the angst will be getting heavier as of this chapter, you have been warned. The song, yes, is 'Poison Girl' but really- what use are girls in a slash fic?


"The fire in his eyes

Grew dim and then died
As the poison inside
Reached his heart


And the coldest bliss

Faith ceased to exist
As we grew apart
Like never before"


Poison Girl

I don't hate Draco. Really, I don't.

I don't really hate Malfoy either. They are two different people you see. Malfoy struts through corridors, sneering, mocking and terrifying younger pupils- Draco fits himself between my parted thighs and thrusts, bites, kisses and licks until we both moan and scream.

There is a part of me that hates him, Malfoy that is- every time he says he feels nothing and denies what I have felt burning in him I just want to break those aristocratic cheekbones. Then, of course, he touches me and suddenly he becomes Draco and then I'm on fire. I can drown in him every single time he crashes his lips to mine. He will bring me to climax and vice versa but then …he leaves.

Is it so simple for him just to walk away? Doesn't he lie in bed, night after night, dreaming of having his hands on me?

Perhaps that's all it is to him- sex, a lust so all consuming that neither of us can go a day without fulfilling our urges. Hence the fact that I am steadily counting the minutes until I see him tonight. It is hard to lie to my friends every time I disappear for hours at a time and return yawning, stretching my muscles and very often appearing flushed. Well …at least it should be hard. I'll sometimes feel guilty when I make my excuses to leave the common room and make my way to where Malfoy and I are meeting. Then he looks at me and slowly I crumble. Then he kisses me and everything crashes down, leaving only us in the entire world.

Sometimes I even contemplate not going but it is a silly notion- a ridiculous fantasy born in moments when my sanity and mind are my own. Those times don't last long- I belong to him now.

I told him I didn't hate him any more and it seems to have become his mission to force me to hate him. Harsh words, not just directed at me but at Ron and Hermione, insults that range from wealth and blood status to hair. Yes- hair. How can one person be so intent on causing hatred that that is the level they steep to?

Through the corridors to the Great Hall we are walking; Ron on my left and Hermione on my right. They are arguing over the top of my head about Merlin only knows what. Hermione asks my opinion but I have spotted a head of blond hair and am no long capable of a coherent thought.

Malfoy spots us out the corner of his eye and stops abruptly in his tracks, turning to face us with both his cronies in tow.

"The Golden Trio, how delightful." He drawls sarcastically. I can already feel Ron tensing beside me and Hermione getting ready to quickly diffuse the situation.

"I don't know what your problem has been the last few weeks Ferret but why don't you just bugger off?" Ron spits through clenched teeth.

If only he knew the reason, what a conversation that would be.

"Now now Weasel calm down," the feigned pleasantry in his voice sets me off and I can feel that burning desire to punch him in his pointed face, "Potter has more manners than you and you had some parental guidance on that front."

Ron clenches his fists at his side, ready to jump to my defence with force if necessary. Forever the loyal Gryffindor best friend …these are the times I hate lying. Really, I never would have made that good a Slytherin.

"At least you Weasel haven't caused the deaths of everyone you call family, Potty here can't say the same so I suppose his manners aren't really that important are they?"

I can feel my face drop, my teeth unclench and my eyes relax. I don't even know how to react to that. He is right. Oh gods how he is right. Is this my punishment? Has everything that I've done wrong that caused people so much pain finally come back to haunt me? As if constantly being reminded of all those families torn apart and all those lives lost wasn't torture enough. Karma, I believe that is what this would be called.

Malfoy looks at me, smirking, mocking, and knowing exactly how hard his comment has struck me. Probably not as hard as Ron is about to strike him though.

Hermione steps behind me, wrapping a soft but stern hand around Ron's right wrist. He turns to her and frowns but she shakes her head and Ron knows that her silent words are true. Crabbe and Goyle have already stepped partially in front of Malfoy so any attempt at physical violence now would be utterly futile. The three Slytherins turn on their heels and enter the Great Hall, leaving us standing in the Entrance Hall, a small crowd that had been waiting for the inevitable explosion finally dispersing. Ron wrenches his wrist from Hermione's grip and storms into the hall; apparently I missed a conversation between them as I stared at the space where Malfoy had stood. She gives me a brief shake, waking me from whatever daze I was in and gives me a worried, motherly look. I simply smile at her reassuringly, not quite trusting myself to speak. She squeezes my shoulder and ushers me into the hall.

This is what I'm paying the price for- not costing the lives of those I held dear but lying to those that are still alive. Perhaps I should end it. What am I saying? Of course I should. Maybe tonight- I chant it over and over in my head as we sit down at Gryffindor table.

Maybe tonight. I can feel eyes on me.

Maybe tonight. I give in and look to the owner.

Maybe tonight. Silver smirks back at me.

Not tonight. Am I completely powerless.

Dinner at the Gryffindor table is an angry affair this evening as Ron frantically tells our dorm mates about Malfoy's words. I poke and prod at some kind of food that sits on my plate. I'm not really hungry and I won't taste it anyway. Everything tastes of Malfoy. Everything smells of Malfoy. Everything is Malfoy.

All too soon people are getting up to leave. Hermione wants me to study, Ron wants me to play chess, Draco wants me to suck him off. It isn't a hard choice to make. I wave them off, using the excuse that I'm not finished eating. They both look at my full plate and nod. How convenient that on tonight of all nights I choose not to eat. In essence I am not lying to them.

I watch them leave, noticing Malfoy smirking at me as my eyes come back across the hall. He stands up gracefully, removing himself from the Slytherin table and leaving the hall. I drop my fork to the plate. I was lying after all. Lying to myself, lying to my friends- who in the hell knows the truth when even I don't?

As I come into the Entrance Hall I catch a flash of blond hair and a sweep of black robes as Malfoy heads down the stairs into the dungeons. I follow quickly, checking that no one is around to see me diving into the dark depths of the dungeons.

Once again I see a glimpse of him as he turns a corner and I follow, trying not to lose him and, by default, myself in this torch lit labyrinth beneath the ground. Corner after corner I match his pace. Left, right, right, right, left, left. It is a wonder we haven't gone full circle. Finally I hear and see a door slam shut half way down the darkest corridor yet. In another life I probably would have been scared of the dark down here, that fear of what could be hiding in any corner creeping over me. Somehow, I can't find myself to care. Deadly spiders could scuttle out from the corners and sink their fangs into my ankles and in all honesty I wouldn't be that concerned as I died on the cold stone floor. Although I would be sad to miss how people would explain Harry Potter turning up dead in the dungeons. I almost snort as I near the door- I can see the headlines now: 'The Dark Lord Couldn't Get Him But The Spiders Did'.

Slowly I turn the handle, taking in a deep breath of stale dungeon air before pushing the heavy wood open and clicking it shut behind me. The room is in pitch-blackness. There are no windows to allow in shafts of setting sun. There are no flames that burn in torches or on the wicks of candles. There are no shadows because everything is a shadow.

I hear footsteps coming towards me on the dusty floor, the odd piece of something crunching under foot. I don't want to begin to think about what sorts of things are lying around, rotting and decaying in this room. I am pushed back against the door, a strong hand on each shoulder. Before I can even question if this is actually Malfoy, lips are on mine, pressing hard and moving over my own.

It isn't Malfoy. It is Draco.

My mouth opens at Draco's insistence and my arms wrap around his neck. His hands slide up and down my sides, running over my chest before slipping up my neck. I gasp and pull from the kiss, turning my head to the side and resting my face against the door. The bittersweet way he places a soft trail of kisses up my neck weakens my knees and I am convinced I will slide to the floor. The tenderness of his lips, the soft caresses of his hands are so new, so foreign. I want to surrender but there is that nagging voice in my head telling me he is up to something. All I want is to accept that something has changed. His mouth comes to my ear; lips fastening softly round my ear lobe before his breath blows hot and warm, sending shivers through my bones.

"Do you hate me yet?" Nothing has changed it would seem.

"No." I answer simply and he near growls in my ear. I feel him grab my wrists, pinning them above my head and digging in his nails. His face is near mine, I can barely make out the contours of his cheekbones but the tip of his nose brushes mine.

"Well it is about time you did," I don't like the dangerous note in his voice, "get it into your head that you are nothing to me. In fact you are nothing at all." He moves his lips back to my ear, "all you were good for was getting rid of the Dark Lord. Now you've done that we have to find something else for you to be good for." I can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

Is he right? Is this all I am good for now? I fulfilled the prophecy, that was what I was born to do so what is left for me? A life of unwanted hero worship? What kind of life is that?

Draco steps backwards, dragging me with him. He hits a desk and climbs up onto it, bringing me to stand between his legs. I feel his fingers twine themselves in my hair and he fiercely pulls my face to his.

"Thought of anything yet?" I nod, knowing he will feel the movement in his hands. "Good." His hands force me downwards and I drop to my knees on the floor. I run my hands up his thighs, pulling open his robes and undoing his belt. My hand brushes over the bulge in his trousers and I pull down the zip. His back arches ever so slightly, a low groan escaping his lips as I pull him from his boxers. It is an entirely bizarre sensation- knowing what is in front of me yet not being able to see it.

"Have you realised it yet?" I nod slowly, "Will you admit it?" I swallow heavily, the corners of my eyes tingle slightly as I open my mouth.

"You hate me." I whisper, flicking my tongue over him briefly. He shudders before speaking again.

"I didn't quite catch that."

"You hate me." I repeat louder before flicking out my tongue again. Draco moans and lifts his hips a little, spurring me on.

I put my mouth round him as a tear slips from my right eye. He hates me. Malfoy hates me. Draco hates me. This is all I am worth- on my knees in a pitch-black, dust-coated classroom. I have been a fool. I shouldn't be shocked should I? Every thing Draco says about Gryffindors must be true. I was naïve to think that he would ever feel anything other than a burning lust.

The taste of his skin on my tongue and the feel of him beneath my hands are intoxicating. I need him more than I need air. I spend every waking moment craving him and when I sleep I dream of the way his face contorts in ecstasy. He doesn't feel and oh how that kills me but I won't end it. I can't. My whole body burns for him and to go even a day without his touch would surely end me. Perhaps I am being melodramatic.

Just because he hates me now doesn't mean he always will. I have realized it but that doesn't mean I have to give up hope…


Notes:
Hope that was almost worth the wait.

Added Note: As you may have seen, is clamping down on people with lyrics in their fics. Several of my stories have been deleted and quite frankly I have had enough of this site! From now on I'll be updating only on hpfandom(dot)com under the same penname as I am here. If you wish to be contacted about updates drop me an email and let me know. Also, if you have just had an email telling you about a 7th chapter, that was actually just me accidently adding a chapter instead of replacing the content of chapter 6. Sorry about that if it did happen sweethearts, a few glasses of wine and I'm a hazard I'm afraid!