Disclaimer: I don't own Harry or Draco or...well, anything except the clever imagination that gave life to this story. No sue. I'm poor.
Summary: A strange package is delivered to Harry one morning. No note or explanation for what he found inside. Letters. Full of love and hate and lust and sorrow and outrage. Letters that he was never meant to see.
A/n: This chapter is Draco's pov. For now, all of Draco's chapters will be in the past, when he was writing the letters. I'm debating…whether to have all of the letters up until the last two or three be Draco's POV, or to alternate between the two boys. Lemme know!
Green Eyes
Chapter One: Frustration
Written on the twenty-third of May, 2005
Draco Malfoy sat alone in his dormitory. The seventh-year Slytherin dormitory, to be precise. Draco was lounging on his bed, for Draco did nothing that was as simple and common as sitting. At any rate, he was lounging. But not simply lounging, for he was writing also. Draco was writing steadily on a bit of parchment with his eagle-feather quill. His expression was a combination of thoughtfulness and irritation… The letter read…
Dear Green Eyes,
How annoying. A second letter. That makes two in as many weeks. I suppose you'll be proud of that, you ponce. You'll no doubt enjoy the fact that I can't get your annoying face out of my mind. It isn't a good thing, you twit.
You see… if Draco Malfoy thinks about Harry Potter in any way besides how to murder him, the world might collapse in on itself. Honestly. What would your precious Weasel and his little girlfriend do if they thought I might actually like you (which I don't by the way)? Exactly. Heart attacks and mistrust all around.
So. Down to the actual point of this letter? Ha, there isn't one! There is absolutely no point to me writing these ridiculous letters. I don't even plan on sending them to you!
I saw you yesterday. Talked to you, even. If you can call exchanging mindless insulting banter talking of any kind. I noticed you getting on the train. You've grown over the summer. And filled out, too., you bastard. I grew a tad over holiday, too, but I'm still disturbingly slim. True, it goes over well with the ladies because I'm still positively gorgeous. But you seem to think I look like a woman.
Yes, yes, yes, I'm STILL on about that. You called me a bloody woman! How can I NOT go on about that? Hm? If I called you a woman… well, it wouldn't do any good. You'd laugh like the bastard you are, because you know you're absolutely gorgeous and the very picture of a perfect male. Except those hideous glasses. They get in the way of your eyes, hide them. I don't like it when people hide things from me.
I saw you at the feast, too. You eat enough to feed a third world country. At least you've got manners, though. The bloody Weasel eats like a caveman. Of course, with his family it's not surprising. Manners aren't exactly important when you're scavenging for every meal.
I know, I know. "Lay off of Ron's family" right? Whatever. Only because it's you.
Ponce.
I hate you eternally,
Draconis Lucius Malfoy.
Draco looked at the letter and frowned. It was absolutely ridiculous to be writing letters to the Boy-Who-Lived. Man-Who-Lived some part of his mind corrected. Harry had, indeed, become a man. He was tall, tanned, muscular, and all around gorgeous. He often had a brooding expression on his face, which only magnified his erotic beauty.
Draco sneered and folded the letter carefully. He put away his ink and quill, then stashed the letter with the first one he'd written. He had no intention of sending the letters. He'd never had any intention to. What kind of idiot would he have to be to send love--hate letters to Harry Potter? The idea behind them was to vent some of his frustration.
It had been his Potions Professor's idea, ironically enough. Over the years, Severus Snape had become somewhat a confidant to Draco. He trusted the man with virtually all of his secrets. Except, of course, who this insensible infatuation was directed towards. That was a secret he fully intended to take with him to the grave.
Draco ran idle fingers through his hair and slipped out of the dormitory. It was almost time for dinner, and it wouldn't do to be late.
A/n: Yay! Another short, but hopefully decent chapter. I hate to say it, but they'll probably all be the short. At least I'll be able to put them out quicker. Sigh But I've decided that there will be a follow-up story. After we've gone through all the letters, then I'll do a second story for the aftermath of Draco's… confessions, if you will.
Special thanks to smilez4ever, who reminded me that I'd started this story. >.> ;; Thanks, also, to Sheree, Meg, Cithara, Nanya, Shawna Clasey, and Don't eat yellow snow. Loves reviews
Ciao!