Disclaimer: Not mine, but I'm sure you knew that already.
Warning: Slash, although I don't know why I feel need to warn because I most certainly don't think there is anything wrong with it.
A/N: Okaayyy, I haven't updated this story in nearly a year so I deserve to be Crucioed around a bit. I promise that there will barely any wait for the next and final chapter because I've already got it written.
Draco's footsteps echoed off the walls as he walked to the seventh floor corridor. Even though it wasn't very early, it was a Saturday so the halls were still and silent because most were still asleep. Draco was glad of the stillness. He would probably be quite embarrassed if anyone saw him.
He was grinning like an idiot. He had one of those silly lopsided grins on his face, as if half of him was trying to make himself not smile while the other side couldn't help it. He was also mumbling to himself, about what one could only guess. If someone were to have seen him at that very moment the would have most likely said that he look like he was off to do something having to do with a significant other... Or that he was mad... Or possibly both. Really, you have to be mad to fall for someone in the first place.. Or maybe it's the love that makes you mad. Either way you looked at it, he was probably out of his mind.
After spending the night thinking, really thinking, he came to the realization the he needed this and he was ready for it. For the past couple of weeks, he constantly changed his mind. One second he was going to do it, and the next he wasn't. Draco kept going back and forth, unsure of where to go. But this last night of thinking made him realize that he had to make up his mind, and so he did. He attempted to deny it for too long. He made himself give it up. He was ready to accept the consequences of a real relationship, consisting of two very real people, not merely words on the piece of parchment.
He had to admit, he was very please with this decision, for now anyway.
Harry returned to the spot after a quick bite in the Great Hall for breakfast. He was very unsure. He had been sitting there for at least twenty minutes thinking about destroying the piece of parchment that he had removed from the niche, that now laid in his lap.
He heard footsteps heading to where he was sitting.
His heart began beating very fast, and his nerves were on fire.
Harry knew who it could be, and this certainly wasn't the plan. It wasn't supposed to happen like this.
His first thought was to get up and try to make it to the Room of Requirement, but as soon as that thought crossed his mind, another thought rammed into it. This way would work just as well. Plus, this way, he couldn't just decide not to come. He was already there and after thinking all of this it was too late to make a run for it anyway. The footsteps quickly grew louder.
He closed his eyes tightly and began to rehearse the words the planned on saying later in his head, but the footsteps threw off his concentration like something was repeatedly hitting his head. The suspense was driving him mad.
At once the hall became silent again. Harry willed himself to raise his head and open his eyes. Before doing so thoughts quickly fluttered through his mind. What if Draco just left? And ignored him completely? Would he even guess? Although it was too late to worry about it.
Draco's facial expression might have been amusing if Harry hadn't been so worried by the circumstances. His eyes were wide and his mouth formed a small 'O'. He was obviously confused. He blinked hard a couple of times and squinted his eyes a bit. Harry was under the impression that Draco thought he was an illusion. But to Draco's dismay, after blinking hard several more times, he became aware of the fact that Harry was just as solid as he.
Harry stood up clumsily, unsure of what he should do. A piece of parchment fell out of his lap and floated gently to the floor, but he paid no attention to it.
Draco looked down to the parchment on the floor. After staring at it for a couple of second, he looked back up to Harry. His eyes immediately traveled to the small niche in the wall, located directly across from the place where Harry stood.
When Draco's eyes met Harry's, Harry gave him a small nod, hoping that was enough. Harry looked like his greatest wish be for the floor to suddenly open up and swallow him whole.
Of all things, Draco wasn't dumb, but he also wasn't very open to what his mind was telling him either. In fact, he looked as if he would have preferred being completely unaware of this. Somewhere in his mind he was still holding on to the small hope that this wasn't what it seems... That he was just jumping to conclusions. If it wasn't for the hope, he probably would have left right then.
"It's me," Harry said quietly, hardly loud enough for Draco to hear him.
He didn't have to say exactly what it was that he was. The hope vanished into nothingness.
Although most of Draco's mind expected it, it was still a shock, hearing it out loud. He wished he was mistaken or that he misheard.
Draco blindly stepped backward a few feet, his mind still trying to absorb what had happened.
Harry was sure that he was going to run away.
His assumption was correct.
Draco swiftly turned around and began to run. He wasn't a coward, that was for sure, but he did not want to accept this.
He had never opened up to anyone before... Never... Not his friends or family... Nobody. He had never had anybody. For the first time he had a confidant, someone he trusted and cared for and had feelings for. I told him things! he thought angrily.
Draco was humiliated. He was embarrassed.
Of course, he was aware that the person was wrote to could be anyone, and he had accepted it. He knew it might be a Hufflepuff, for Merlin's sake. But Potter? Of all people? Out of the hundreds it could have been... He would have never guessed.
He had showed Harry Potter that he wasn't as strong as he tried to be... He was unable to withstand the pressure that was put on him.
And he knew! The little bastard knew it was me! He didn't look a bit surprised to see me there! he mentally ranted savagely.
Suddenly Draco felt a hand grasp his shoulder and was jerked backwards and slammed against the wall.
"What the hell do you want?" he spat.
"Damnit! We need to talk!" Harry answered.
"There is nothing I want to say to you, Potter, ever.
He shoved Harry's hand off himself began to walk away. For a second Harry watched him, maybe considering letting him go and leaving it alone.
"Wait!" he called.
Draco didn't seem to have any intentions to turn back, but after taking a few more steps, he turned back around.
"I hate you." Pure loathing drowned every syllable. "Nothing will change that. I know care what I wrote to you or what you think you know about me. You know nothing at all, so don't convince yourself that you do."
"Why are you denying it?," Harry replied, "Why is it so bad?"
Draco ignored his question all together.
"You're pathetic, you know that, right? Completely pathetic." Harry paused to watch the effect of his words on Draco.
"I'm the only one who gives a damn about you... The only person who you could talk to for these past weeks. And you are going to forget about it because of what? Daddy? Voldemort? You're disgusting."
"Don't you dare bring my father into this. I hate you because of you and everything about you."
"You hate me, huh? You didn't hate me so much the other night when we met, what about then? We've wrote to each other a bunch, not once did I get a 'Dear you, I hate you'. Why didn't you tell me then? Answer me that, Draco."
Draco remained silent.
"Who cares about the screwed up past between us? We were only doing what we thought we were supposed to do. We hated each other because of the opposite sides we're on... Not for who we are... Why can't we change things?" The things Harry had prepared to say were long forgotten. He just spoke of what he thought, unsure if it made sense at all.
"Are you done with you're little overly dramatic speech then?" Draco asked scathingly. "You just don't get it. Are you honestly that dense?
"No, I don't. Explain it to me."
"Ah!" Draco exclaimed in frustration. "Do I really need to? You may be stupid, but you can't be this thick." He took a deep breath. "I'm not going to spell it out for you. I can't fathom how you don't completely agree with me. We're against each other, Harry. Don't have any hopes the suggest otherwise."
Harry dug deep into his school trunk, determinedly searching for something.
"Aha!" he exclaimed when he heard the familiar 'clink' of bottles clinging against each other. He pulled out a bottle fill with a deep amber-colored liquid. "Perfect," he muttered.
After a few swigs and a couple minutes, Harry felt noticeably lighter. He sat lazily on his bed with his back against a couple of pillows and his legs sprawled out in front him. With a couple more drinks, he was feeling mildly euphoric and very carefree.
He was feeling pretty good.
And after a hand few more large gulps, he felt even better.
"Harry?"
Harry slowly lifted his heavy eyelids. After a minute of strained thought, he concluded that he had dozed off mid-drink, thus resulted in the state he found himself in now. His head laid heavily on one shoulder, a bit of drool running down the side of his face, and a bottle, nearly empty, held lazily in his hand, propped up but his leg. Good thing it didn't spill, he thought.
He finished off the bottle and looked up.
Although everything wasn't staying still and was very fuzzy, he could still make out Ron and Hermione.
"Sorry, guys," he slurred, "shoulda left you some," he added while he indicated to the empty bottle.
He stood up clumsily, nearly fell, and set the bottle on his nightstand. After waiting for the room to stand still, he made way for the bathroom.
" 'Scuse me. Gotta take a piss"
When he returned, he found that his two friends were still there.
Ron looked slightly puzzled and Hermione stood tall with her hand on her hips in a patronizing way.
"Uh, yeah?" he questioned, with a hint of anger in his tone.
"Harry, I can't beli--," But her thought wasn't finish because Harry cut her off.
"You," he started. He pointed his finger unsteadily. Neither Ron nor Hermione were sure who he was pointing at. "Can go to hell."
He swayed a little before walking over to his trunk and pulling out another bottle.
Harry didn't really care who watched him stumble though the Common Room and out of the portrait hole.
A/N: Reviews would make me mighty happy.