A fanfiction by the one and only Whatsername9890
Yay...a Harry Potty fic by me. I hope you all enjoy it and reviews make me feel fuzzy inside. I even enjoy getting flames so BRING IT ON!
This chapter is dedicated to Norman, My fish, for being with me for all these years. He has been my fish through thick and thin. I owe so much to him, and let us take this time to thank him...
Warning: Mild slash, some mild language, and severe denial. Nothing too bad in this chapter. It is the first, after all, isn't it? Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling...yep...
Also, every chapter is going to center on the other person. I'll explain. The first chapter is about Draco. The next will be about Harry. The third will be about Draco...so on and so fourth...
Some are free to love without regrets. But what about the rest? Follow Draco Malfoy in his strange and twisted tale of angst, denial, love, pain, and fluffy bunnies...all the good stuff. Draco/Harry slash.
System Requirements
Chapter 1: Me Myself and Harry
Draco Malfoy had always been the one to cause unrest. He had always kindled a deep loathing for the one and only Harry Potter. And he had never sunk to such weak and undesirable emotions as love, or true happiness.
"Hey, Draco...Draco..." Crabbe grunted, shaking his friend's arm. Malfoy did not wake at first, wanting to continue his nap. After what seemed like hours of shaking, Malfoy sat up, sputtering curses at no one in particular. He looked around; unaware of where he had fallen asleep. He couldn't exactly remember anything; accept the disgusting face of Pansy Parkinson. He happened to be in the Slytherin common room, sitting Indian-style on the floor, with a quite large Crabbe squatting next to him. He looked around, confused, no idea what time it was or when he had fallen asleep or what had taken place.
"What happened?" Was all the blonde could think of to say. When he had started to speak, a huge headache pounded behind his eyes and he felt as if he might be sick. His vision blurred and Draco fought to remain in his sitting position.
Crabbe flushed, apparently embarrassed, and started hesitantly, "W-well..."
"Get on with it, you stupid oaf. What the hell happened!"
"Okay, last night Slytherin won the first Quidditch game of the season, and there was a big party in the common room. Some fourth year had managed to get some wine somehow and everyone was...er...drunk...That'll explain yer hangover...anyway, well, you're quite strange when you're drunk. Uhrm, you was...was..." He seemed unable to continue, as if when Draco knew the secret he would put him under some horrible jinx.
"You'd better bloody well tell me the rest," Malfoy warned, though he dreaded what was about to be told. What horrible thing had he done with Pansy Parkinson while drunk? Unable to wait any longer, he kicked Crabbe in the shin.
"Agh...owww...er, you was...well, you was...dancing on the table, and...erm... take...taking off...y-your robes...then you was snogging Pansy Parkinson...then, I passed out; don't know anything else..."
By the end of this story Malfoy felt a mixture of anger, embarrassment, loathing, and disgust. "Bloody hell," He gasped, attempting to stand up but as he moved his legs, he got dizzy and felt as if someone was smashing a hammer against his head. "W-what's the time?" He asked, pushing against Crabbe in order to stand up.
Crabbe, regaining his balance and standing up too, checked his watch. "Seven o'clock in the morning."
At that moment, a gang of fifth year girls descended the dormitory stairs, giggling as they past Draco. One of them made a kissing-face, a few winked in his direction, and another, Sylvia Aspen, said, "Draco, that was wicked hot last night...hey, join us for breakfast!"
He merely snarled at them and they hopped away disheartened. But somehow still giggling madly.
As Malfoy and Crabbe entered the entrance hall on their way down to breakfast, they passed by Harry Potter. The Gryffindor seemed surprised when his nemesis didn't say anything harsh, or even sneer at him. Draco was, in fact, too hung over to notice him. Harry continued up the stairs, puzzled, and the two Slytherins entered the Great Hall. As they walked down the Slytherin table everyone seemed to stare at Draco, pointing and giggling. He pasted on his unfeeling face, staring straight ahead, as if nothing was happening.
But inside was a different story. He felt, again, that confused lump of emotion. And he also felt as though he might throw up. "Crabbe, I'm going to the bathroom," he said hastily and ran back along the tables, not focusing on anything besides the great large doors ahead of him. He sprinted through the halls, bumping into a few people as he passed, but not noticing who they were. Malfoy reached the boys' bathroom and ran to a toilet, immediately throwing up last night's dinner. Unable to stand up, but feeling a little better, the Slytherin sat down on the floor. He picked at his fingernail, trying to remember the very simple potion that would cure a hangover, which his father had taught him.
Immersed in his own thoughts, Draco had not heard the door open. "Hey Malfoy, what are you doing in here?" None other than Harry Potter was standing behind him, emerald eyes wide open in surprise and ragged dark hair astray, like usual.
He turned around, sneering to hide his own surprise. "Potter," he spat, "Following me around, like usual? Trust me, I'm not whipping up some bogus plan to unleash the dark lord or anything, just sitting on the floor..."
Harry seemed to look away, face getting red. "I-I'm not following you...this is the boy's bathroom and all..." He shifted on his feet and seemed to suddenly find the stall to his left very interesting.
No evil glare? No snipey comeback? Not even an accusation? Malfoy, amused but not really aware of why his enemy was acting strangely, finally stood up. He grabbed onto the open stall door to steady himself and looked straight into the Gryffindor's eyes. "What's wrong with you, Potter?" He sneered. "You don't have a crush on me, do you?" He added jokingly, but was somewhat irritated at even the thought of it. "Disgusting..."
Harry was not amused by the comment. His eyes widened and he seemed to be in a trance, as though he couldn't move his eyes away even if he tried. "I..." He hesitated for a moment, but quickly regained his composure. "Come off it, Malfoy. I would kill myself if I ever got a bloody crush on you!"
Draco watched Harry stomp out of the bathroom, wondering why those last words felt like a blade through his chest. Then suddenly, he collapsed on the floor, clamping his hands against his face, and was sobbing for the first time in three years. The Slytherin couldn't understand what was happening, just that his tears would not stop flowing, and he felt unbelievably depressed.
After at least ten minutes, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, hating himself for being so weak. What was happening? Malfoy looked down at his hands. They were ghostly white and trembling. He assumed that he was ill, and trudged through the halls to the hospital wing. Never before had he felt such conflicting emotions.
Me Myself and Harry / END
Hey! Whatsername9890 here! Did you like it? Did you think Malfoy's conflicting emotions were stupid? I don't know. I didn't really develop a plot before I started writing it. I just kinda went along... Hey, if you have any story ideas I would absolutely LOVE to hear them! Please review and the next chapter will be up soon. (And it will hopefully be longer!)
