Alright, this is where it gets interesting (Finally!) This is my favorite chapter, and hopefully yours. Enjoy! (Draco's POV again)

.x. Say My Name .x.

It was just me and him now. I could be…truthful. I could be real.

"I'm not gonna play games, Potter," I whispered in his ear, causing him to squirm. "It should have been obvious when I last came on to you… I love you…"

His eyes widened, shocked. He shook his head, or at least tried to. He was still silent, staring back up at me. I could see what he was thinking, and it made me laugh. He's lying…he's got to be lying… Gently, I touched his cheek, smiling at him affectionately. "It's no joke, Potter. Don't you feel the same way?"

"No… I… Just get off of me!" He made an effort to push me off, but slapped my hand over his mouth, using my free hand to add more pressure to his chest, forcing him to be still—he was rather weak for the famous boy who lived.

"Just be still, okay? You need to listen." I gave him a reproachful look, but he just glared back. "I want to make this work, but you're being a bitch about it."

Somehow he managed to slip his mouth from beneath my hand, and retaliated, "What do you mean 'make this work'? There's nothing between us, don't you get it?!"

"What if I want there to be?!"

We both fell silent. I was suddenly aware of how dark it was getting, how deserted the room felt, how cold. Potter looked as if he were about to cry, like he would break down at any moment. So cute…so fragile…so innocent, like an angel, maybe. Disgusting…how I'm thinking like this, but…

"We're very different, you and I," I started to say in a quieter tone, slowly taking his glasses off. "But there's this thing, this connection, going on between us. You know it, I know you do." His bright green eyes were welling up with tears, overcome by confusion and a hint of pain—but overall, understanding. Perhaps he finally understood? Maybe he felt the same way.

"I'm not gonna lie… I want you, Harry Potter… You're mine."

"…Malfoy, why… I don't understand."

"Yes you do. You're just afraid to admit it—that you love me too. Maybe," I tilted his head upright, leaning closer. "Maybe if you just accepted it, it'd be easier for the both of us."

He was crying, I could see. His eyes were shut and tears streaked down his face like little rivers. I smiled, leaning a bit closer…closer… Before we knew it, my lips met his. They're really soft… Does he understand, now?

We stayed like that for a moment, my heart racing, excited, caught in the heat of the moment. I wanted to touch him, to make him feel physically what I felt emotionally. I reached for the sleeve of his robe, pushing it off, moving on to his tie, loosening it. Unbuttoning his shirt, pulling him closer… He didn't do a thing to resist me. I paused, looking into his face; his eyes were open ever so slightly.

"Say my name, Potter…"

"…I…I don't…"

"Say my name, Harry," I told him more sternly, but softly at the same time, kissing his cheek, his neck… "You're mine, so say it."

"Dammit…"

"Try again."

I don't remember much of what happened after that. I don't know how to describe it; I was excited, forceful, and he did everything I said, like a little pet. We made love, over and over. I could tell he was trying to resist it, but failing miserably. Confusion, hatred, pain, love… I could see it all in his eyes, the way he moved, the noises he made.

Do you understand, Potter? Do you get it now? I want you to love me, but you're just to stupid to understand that this, what we have, isn't impossible. I love you.

I thought all this as I lay on top of him, his face to the ground, glasses off to the side. He was still crying, and I couldn't help but touch him—

"Draco…"

He said it. "Yes?"

"…I hate you…so much right now…"

…He doesn't mean it. He wouldn't still be here if he meant it. But— I narrowed my eyes a bit, upset. "You don't mean that?" I said it like a question.

He shuddered, his face still to the ground, crying. Shaking his head, he pushed me off, trying to stand up, but I forced him back down, taking hold of his hair in the process. I pulled it back, just enough for it to be somewhat painful, tilting his head upward. "We're not stopping until you say you love me."

"Let me go! I don't want to do this anymore! I—" He let out a cry as I took control again, forcing him back on the ground.

"Say it, Potter! Say it like you mean it, or we won't stop."

He refused to say a word, biting back his cries of pain. Why, Draco? I thought grimly. Why are you hurting him like this? He's been through enough as it is…

"S-stop!"

He's had enough…

"Malfoy…!"

It's too much for him. He doesn't understand…

"Say it, Potter… That's all you have to do."

He seemed to be struggling with his words at first, but he managed to whisper, "I don't understand you, Draco…why you do these things…why you make this so hard for me… How can you sit there and say these things like you actually mean them? Why, why are you screwing with me?! I hate you!"

I stopped. It was if someone had pressed the pause button on the remote that was my life. He doesn't mean it…

Wordlessly, I got up and started to get dressed, my back turned to Potter the entire time. It took him a moment to realize I'd stop, I suppose, because it was a while before I heard him fumbling for his clothes and glasses. We dressed in silence. There was obviously nothing more to say, at least, nothing more I wanted to say.

He'll come around, sooner or later. He doesn't mean it.

But is it possible it can never be?

"Potter."

"What do you want?"

"Say nothing of what happened here."

"Like I would."

"I still love you…"

"Damn you."