Disclaimer: If I wrote the Harry Potter series, I'd be a hell lot better of a writer.
Warning: Slash, Violence, Confusion, Lack of skill.
A/N:Ah, yet another weird chapter. I'm not so happy with this one. As the story's plot thickens, it gets harder to write it out.
Well, hopefully I didn't disappoint you guys too much. Enjoy!
Fists slam against hot flesh. The numbness after each blow thumping along with your erratic beating heart. Crimson blood, seeping out of broken skin. The crack of knuckles and the energy bursting with each impact. The adrenaline pumping through your system.
Somehow, these actions pushed each broken piece of mind to a far corner. Your task was to cause pain and to feel it.
Nothing else mattered.
A whoosh of air escapes your lungs as Weasley punches your chest and with fast seeker reflexes, you punch him back, square on the head. The fire in his cheeks burned with the added fuel from your hit and you smirk.
"Is that all you have, Weasley?" you are in control now as you grab the red hair, pushing the gangly body down, kneeling. Your faces are inches apart, his uneven breathing cooling your hot skin. "You wanted a fight, you've got it."
"Shove off, Malfoy," he growls, raising his fist but you catch it before he connects it with you. Your arm struggles with his force as it shakes and you kick him, causing him to double over with pain; falling to the floor. You kneel down, gathering again the strands of fire between your fingers.
"You wanted it. Don't tell me to shove off." You yank harder at his hair, anger drilling at your chest. "You wanted this."
"W-what the bloody hell are you talking about?" Weasley says between gasps. His eyes are wide and confusion fills the bottomless ocean. But you shake it off; this was all an act. "You started this!"
"I did not, Weasley," you nudge him in the ribs, annoyed at his lack of responsibility. "Stop acting innocent."
"Fuck you,"
"Go fuck your Mudblood lover," and you rise, letting him soak in his whirlwind of hatred and shame. He tries to get up, his breathing coming out in quick runs. There is a second where you hear his breath hitch, his eyes' shine disappearing and the movements of his body freeze.
But just as it comes, it passes out with another flush of fury.
"Y-you… you bloody g-git!" blocking again his attempt to punch, you push him down again, his head hitting the hard floor.
"Look Weasley," you nudge his side again, pushing the tip of your black dress shoes in his gut. It was a shame the polish leather had to be stained with Weasley germs. "You clearly have some problems with taking responsibilities."
"I…I don't," he takes a long breath through his teeth, cringing in pain as you dig your heel in his stomach. "You bloody started this! Now... stop... it!"
You kick him one last time, a loud yelp escalating from his throat. "I've had enough, Weasel." You turn around, hands shoved in the pockets of your robes and you start to walk.
A few steps later earn you a hoarse voice you hardly hear, "You'll be coming for more, Draco."
You spin around, shock and confusion at the words you have just heard. But the site of Weasley knocked out on the floor is all you see.
Maybe it was your imagination.
Your footsteps echo against the floor of the stairs, the creak of a moving stairway alerts your attention to your left.
"Hey, Drake!" Blaise is on the tip of the stairway, hanging on for dear life as the stairs skid to a halt. "What brings you here? Did you want a share of beating the little Gryffindorks? Eh?"
"Not now Blaise," you keep walking, your mind still spinning from the chaos that had happened just a few minutes ago.
"Drake, you okay?" Blaise's voice booms in your ear and you step away. He was getting irritating and it wasn't like you needed more annoyance at this time. "You're bleeding."
"I'm aware I am." The taste of coppery blood and the air staining your open wounds were far from your initial worries. You ponder whether to head to the Infirmary or just go and try to find Harry. Either way, you'd be in a lot of trouble.
The previous disaster was slowly creeping up from the back of your mind, slowly coming to your dull senses and sharpening them. The confusion stepping closer, and making your brain wheel with questions.
Your long strides are in tune with Blaise's own and you find it annoying he is still beside you.
You stop sharply, turning to his direction and giving him the most malicious stare you could muster in the current situation.
"Is there something you need?" you hiss between your teeth. He smiles, taking your question as an invite to smother you with more annoyance from his being.
"Well, I am rather bored," he fingers his chin and you take a deep breath, urging down the appetite to rip him apart. "Pansy is ignoring me… do you think it's 'that time of the month' again? Crabbe and Goyle are busy stuffing their fat arses… typical. And Millicent is grooming that wild fur ball she calls a cat. So basically, no one is available and I'm bored!"
"Well could you be bored someplace else?" You walk again and he jumps to your side, his smile gleaming with slyness.
"Oh, c'mon! I'm so bored!"
"I'm not bored," you turn a sharp corner, heading to the Slytherin dungeons "And I don't care if you are."
"But Drac—"
"Silencio!"
x.x.x.x.x
"Dammit Potter, where have you been?" you lean into his warm exterior, his lips praying for them to be kissed. "I've been looking for you all yesterday and today."
Lips brushing, your desperate desires were soon going to vanish and be filled with the bliss of being touched. But a strong hand pushes you away and your eyebrows knit together with disappointment and confusion.
His eyes are set in a determined stare. The brilliance of his angry green eyes only sets your avid thirst to even higher heights. "I've been with Ron."
"Oh."
The angry eyes no longer seem intriguing.
"What's your problem, Malfoy?" he steps forward, angry red roses blooming in his cheeks. "Why did you start that fight with Ron? What did he ever do to you?"
"I didn't start that bloody fight!" you growl in frustration. Why was it always your fault? "He started it! Weasley jumped me!"
"Don't be a lying prick, Malfoy!" Harry pushes you harshly, your back slamming into the wall. "You did it! You're the one to blame! I know Ron can be dangerous at times. But he'll only be dangerous if you offend him first!"
"I didn't offend him!" Frustration swam freely in your mind, anger creeping slowly behind. "I told you, I—didn't—start—it!"
"Shut up, Malfoy. I know what you did." He pushes you one last time, hatred clear in his eyes but reluctance was also evident. "I don't need your stupid excuses. I know what happened."
He starts to walk away from the dark corridor, his steps heavy with his anger; your desire tugging at your sleeve eagerly with annoyance.
"Potter, don't walk away from me!" you walk briskly to his side, and grabbing his arm, you fling his face towards you. "I didn't do it! Why won't you believe me?"
He struggles, but your hold is too strong on him. You want to ravage him. Violent fervor was beating at your whole being from the site before you. The warmth of Harry's body and yours mingling and it drove you to states of hot ecstasy.
But his eyes were avoidant, and that ruined everything.
"Let go!" He tries to push you, kick you, anything, but your whole body is pressed hard against his.
"No," you half hiss. "You have to listen to me!"
"I have and all you're saying is you didn't do it!" he continues to struggle, his smaller figure useless against your taller one. "But I know you did, Draco. Don't be a stupid git!"
"How would know? You weren't even there!"
"You did! Zabini—"
"I didn't do it!" You remember the bottomless blue eyes, how they seemed so hollow. You remember the sharp intake of unnatural breath. You remember the heavy voice whispering about more.
And you remember just how scared you actually were.
"Listen! Weasley… something's messed up about him. He's—"
"You messed him up!" he shouts, his voice overpowering the soundless corridor. "If you didn't start that fight, he wouldn't be hurt! Just because you have nothing better to do, it doesn't mean you can go around hurting people! Y-you son of a bit—"
Horror is the immediate reaction as he cringes in pain. The anger-ridden face changing into a contorted cast of livid agony. One hand scratching at the skin of his forehead and one clutching tightly at your arm.
His screams soon followed.
A/N: Bah, Drake and Harry's fight was weird. I think I'm getting writer's block again, since while writing this chapter, I found it extremely hard to think (Damn school.).
shayacatalystcifigirl: I've never read that story before. I haven't been reading anything other than fanfiction and Harry Potter for a while.. hehe. And yes, Harry is being a little.. okay, VERY melodramatic. He's just a really complex character to write (for me...).
Elion: Awwwww! Thanks! My story has substance! (dances)
What Love Is: Hehe, I was thinking the exact thing while writing that line.
Thanks guys for the AWESOME reviews!They got me feelin' gooooooddd.