Kat: Yaaaaaaay!!! Its the first time I can take full credit for a story!!! And this time I really got cookies (but I'm not JK Rowling otherwise they wouldn't be tesco value :( super grr) Anyway, I already posted this but I had to delete it and TRIED to fix the grammer so sorry to anyone who commented on it an I never replied (would you accept an apology muffin? They are chocolate chip!!!) If there's still mistakes them please notify, please don't flame unless it's a valid point... it burns!!! No wait I'm sitting too close to the fire, ow. ANYWAY enjoy.
I look up and just in time to see you strut into the Great Hall for breakfast. Maybe strut is an overstatement, more like meekly walking so obsessive teenage girls - and some boys - don't start to throw themselves at you. It's good your so quiet in your movements, no one really wants to know how easy girls can be before breakfast. My eyes follow you from across the hall, you sit down at the Gryffindor table amongst your friends. The sunlight is shines off your glasses, creating an untouchable rainbow of colours that almost distracts me from your features, almost. You laugh at a joke someone's made and turn, your eyes sweep the hall nothing can escape your less than perfect vision. I duck my head down but not before I get stuck in your line of sight, staring at you, staring at your brilliant, emerald green eyes. Could you see the lust in my eyes? From that distance? A minute ago it seemed like miles away but now only a few short steps.
I look miserably at my own table. Talk and laughter amongst non war weary friends is strife. But there's no laughter or talk here, amongst my so-called friends. Blaise, Goyle and Pansy just want to get on with their education so they can leave and move abroad. I can't stand being witness to their depressions but this intolerance drags me kicking and screaming into my own thoughts and I'm forced to assess them, to see all I never thought about. It's not a pretty sight. I never thought about true commitment, or what kind of people my friends and family really are, what Voldemort's reign, in practice, would really be like. It's not just the thoughts that pelt me with unpleasant truths and flaws of my character. Memories flood back in a vicious stream, like the dam that's there to protect me has gave way. I can see the wreckage of it, broken beyond repair. I can't just un-know these things about myself, about others. How did you cope, you the great Harry Potter when you discovered Moody was a fraud, when Dumbledore was a manipulative bastard, when Snape, Snape of all people was actually the good guy. Did it make you sick like it's making me sick? Or did you take it in your stride like the 'Golden Boy' you are?
My egotistical thoughts return to myself, my former favourite topic, my parent's 'weaselled their way out of it' as my mother helped Harry live and defeat Voldemort. The contributions to charity the man I loathe to call my father made, were - although a pretence to keep up a perfect family façade - apparently helped us, due to advancements in medicine. The sound of the bell pulls me violently out of my melancholic thoughts. Almost everyone's left for class "Come on Draco" I see Pansy look down at me. I follow her and Blaise out of the hall, we have Potions. Nobody pays any attention to us now, when we first returned for our seventh year people were shouting at us and pushing us, all that crap. Now they ignore us, we escape their sight like unseen ghosts, just trying to pick our way through the wreckage of our lives.
When we reach the classroom, my heart beats faster, Blaise glances at me but remains' mute. I look over and see you, with Ron and Hermione. If you knew the raging desire I had to join your table, of course I'd only get told to leave, or maybe Hermione would hex me. It's sick, isn't it? That I actually want someone to hex me, so I can feel alive, so I can still convince myself I'm alive and breathing, that I have a purpose. I spend the rest of my classes trying to envision the millions of ways our path's could cross, how you would react? So far rejection and sworn love are neck and neck.
Dinner is a solemn affair. When I look over at you I see you eat dinner with your friends, but you're also distant. I know why I want to think your distant, but there's no point in filling myself with foolish, wishful hope. Not once do your eyes stray to my table, I never thought I'd miss that. You used to watch me so intently in sixth year, I knew it was for the wrong reasons and I couldn't understand - at the time - why that made me so happy.
After dinner I head to the common room, although it's six I can't face my homework. I walk up to the dormitory, relief spreads through me when I see it's empty. I lie on my bed and think. I find it hard to imagine that a little over a year ago I was a stuck up, vain brat who would do whatever I could to get one over on you, that I was proud to become a Death Eater. I was blind to see the fear they had for Him, I thought they followed him like me at first, because they believed in this powerful, pure wizarding world. I thought they were powerful, that my father was powerful but I was struck down with the reality all to soon. My father was a weak servant to a man who could no longer be defined as human. I failed to see that you were right, my pride and -to some extent upbringing- refused me to see that. How many times have I laughed at you, the 'chosen one'. How many times have I not seen how decent a person you actually are. I curl up into a ball on my bed, the world tilts sideways and I stare with this sharp, new perspective. All alone.
I hear someone climb the stairs, I press my eyes shut and hope they won't come in here. "Draco, prefect duties, remember?" It was Blaise
"Yeah" my voice sounds hollow to me. He retreats slowly downstairs. I sit up slowly and take one last look at the unfriendly green bed cover's and hanging's before I leave. The common room is busy and full of life. I walk through it quickly needing desperately to get away from here. The corridor's are unusually warm and blissfully empty. I walk off to patrol the sixth floor, while Blaise leaves to do the third.
I like doing patrols, to see the bustling castle quiet and still. It numbs my headache and slows my constant stream of thoughts. My mind wonders to you: are you doing homework? Laughing with your friends? Or are you on patrols to? My heart is lifts slightly at the idea that you might turn round the corner at any second. That I might catch a glimpse of you close up, rather than my vain attempts to make out your feature's from across the Great Hall and class rooms. Of course it's all wishful thinking. My patrol last's from eight until eleven. I catch no one, and even if I did I'd do nothing, how can the boy who narrowly escapes Azkaban even begin to tell someone off for curfew, it's too hypocritical.
When my shift ends I don't go back to the dormitory. I walk through a door which pretends to be a wall and I find myself in a room. There's no artificial light so it's soaked in a midnight blue colour. I see the moon bright in the sky. The hope and inspiration it's given to many can't penetrate the dark and depressive nature of my mind. There's a small porcelain bathtub near the back of the room, a few smashed mirrors on the wall but that's it. It's one of those rooms built with no purpose, it's just there. I sit on the edge of the bathtub and try to light a cigarette. The room's so bloody cold it doesn't want to light. Suddenly someone murmur's a spell and it light's automatically. I look up and reach for my wand but it's only you, Harry Potter. I take a drag of my cigarette and look out the window, "What are you doing here?" I ask
"Just wanted some peace and quiet" your voice is deeper than I imagined. I face you, a ghost of a smile appears on my face. You seem surprised at how civil I can be,
"What's it like?" I ask out of curiosity, I forget that I'm not meant to be friendly with you
"Huh?" you look up at me, and take a drag of your own cigarette
"What's it like being… Surrounded by people, all the time?" I asked struggling for words to articulate my thoughts, if you found this odd you don't mention it.
"Tiring, I just want some peace and quiet" I laugh at this although comes out harsher than I intend. "What's funny about that?" you said, the anger and passion I love about you flares up,
"Peace and quiet is over rated" I reply,
"People are hardly going to fall all over you, you allowed Death Eater's into the school and then did unimaginable deeds for Voldemort" your voice is full of disgust and I look at you, my eyes narrow,
"If you spent one day in my shoes-" I began
"What? You want me to feel sorry for you, tell me how you were 'forced' to become one of them" you're practically shouting it makes me grin, although it has no purpose. I miss these arguments, the weak adrenaline I get from them.
"People actually think that" I say, in disbelief as the realisation of what you said hit home,
"Yeah, they do" Pause "Is it true?" you ask, you're closer to me and I can see that a part of you, just for a second, wants to believe it. Wants to believe that I didn't act from my own free will, that I was forced. Yeah right, in a fantasy world maybe that would be true.
I get off the bath and walk towards one of the windows, as if increasing the distance between us might make this easier. My nerves build at the thought of your reaction.
"No" I said, I lit another cigarette and turn to see you reaction, you look…. As though you knew the answer all along, but that spark of disappointment is there. It crushes me and I sigh. "What did you expect?" I said, blowing out a jet of smoke in exasperation "That I wasn't that much of a prat or that delusional about the whole idea?" you look at me timidly
"I guess…" you close your eyes and try to make sense of your thoughts "I just wanted to think-" you said clearly struggling for words
"That it was forceful" I said, finishing it for you, you nod. "No one likes to see someone's true colours, most only see what they want to see" you nod again in confirmation. This felt surreal, here I am trying to tell you what you already ought to know. I take another drag before I continue, "When my parent's told me it was going to happen, I was excited, this was my dream, this was what I had been raised to believe all my life" you look at me again with disgust
"You wanted to be a murderer" you shout accusatively, but if only you could understand, you have glasses so you can see, go ahead, see what's there and not what you want to.
"I wasn't aware of the monstrosities committed" I said, you look at me, once more in disbelief. "I was a sheltered child Harry, I didn't't know what people were capable of. I was ignorant and lived a life of bliss. I regret everything I ever did, although I was too young to be of much use. I just identified people, dug graves" you flinch, but I know you've seen and heard worse. Your face is deathly pale and surprise is etched on your features, probably because I've actually spoken to you, opened up to you - ugh how I hate those words. "Surprised I can act civil?" I ask
"Yes" you said automatically, you have a beautiful, deep crimson blush
"Ha!" it echo's around the room, my cold harsh laugh. I'm surprised it never broke the old, brittle windows. But that laugh gave away more than I intended, it displays to you the loneliness, the loneliness I don't want you to see. You take a step towards me,
"Draco" you almost whisper,
"Yeah? What is it?" I ask, mildly surprised at the use of my first name,
"Nothing" you walk over to the windows. I'm half bemused, half annoyed at your strange remark but that disappears as you come within a metre of me. Can you hear my heart race against my thin chest? Can you sense the desire I feel for you?
I love you.
And here we are, alone, in a shut off part of the castle. Your so close to me, yet so far and I want you.
Fuck.
Why me? Why do I keep getting shit thrown at me, Karma wouldn't do this to me, would she? Because I swear I can see her now watching us together. I pray her to work her magic just this once. If one kiss seals my demise then let it happen because I can't take much more of this.
Through my twisted thoughts I don't notice you edge closer and closer to me "Draco" you said again, your voice is laced with nerves, you've never looked hotter and I've never felt more unworthy.
"Yes" I said, my voice just as nervous. God, your so close.
"There's a reason I broke up with Ginny" you said, my heart is going out of control, like I've taken an overdose.
"Why?" I ask, my voice curious, almost alive. You turn to face me, you don't answer, you can't because before I know what I'm doing I grab you and start to kiss you. At first your unresponsive, my heart's like ice, it waits... Then you respond and through our kiss I grin manically. You violently push me against the wall, I can't believe this is real, Karma is never this kind to me. I hold you closer, you lift my leg around your waist, it fits perfectly. Together we fit perfectly. But then you push me away and I look at you, your eyes blaze with confusion and silent questions. We are mute and merely stare at each other, we're both in shock. I'm surprised that this is real and you, did you ever think you'd kiss me? We stand there for awhile but don't exchange words. Suddenly you turn and leave but that's ok, I don't care if you hate me for this, that was worth the possible repercussions.
I look over and see her, Karma, near me. I can see her red hair and her figure, untouchable like yours. But I held you, didn't I? I slide down the wall. It's so cold in here, when did it get this cold? She smiles over me and stops short of caressing my face, I want to thank her but the urge to close my eyes overwhelms me. I don't want to fall asleep and I don't want to close my eyes but room's so dark now and I can scarcely keep my eyes open. If I rest, just for a minute… I close my eyes and I lose it, the room, the night, it slips away.
I open my eyes and am greeted by the sight of a wooden cabinet and green four poster hangings. My muscles are sore from being huddled up in a ball for hours. The bitter, disappointing taste of reality washes over me, everyone's asleep and it's well past midnight. I don't need someone to tell me that I've been here all along, that I hadn't left with Blaise for prefect duties. I can see Karma laugh at me, laugh at the thought that I'd actually get given a good turn. I sit up, the room is cold. I'm not tired anymore, I don't think I could sleep even if my life depends on it. I can hear the rain outside, it taps lightly against the window and I know that once again there will be another rainbow and the light will shine off your glasses mimicking the pattern, emphasising how untouchable you are.
Blaise, Goyle and Nott are quiet next morning, not that that's unusual but I suddenly panic: did I talk in my sleep? Did they hear anything of what I dreamt? I avoid them as much as I can. My prediction the previous night was true. Only the light doesn't shine off Harry's glasses, not that I care, I have more chance of becoming minister for magic than I do with you. My father's words ring in my ears
'Malfoy's always get what they want Draco. Remember that if nothing else." But that's pointless, what use is the name now. It only represents a family of cowards, a family full of weak murderer's.
I leave the table early and go up to the sixth floor, to that room. It's bathed in morning sunlight that emphasizes the golden yellow bricks that make the castle and I'm reminded briefly of the brilliance it once had. The brilliance of it which soon turns into the mundane expected, although even when the castle was as close to a home as Hagrid's hut, the scenery always left me breathless. I light a cigarette and the smoke drifts upwards into the atmosphere. I like smoking, after I feel invisible it reminds me I'm can breathe, reminds me I actually exist. Pathetic isn't it? That I, the great Draco Malfoy have been reduced to this. A sound pulls me out of my thoughts but I don't turn round, I pinch myself. I'm not asleep.
I turn and see you standing there. Your messy black hair even worse as it's morning and your brilliant green eyes are so refreshing to look at. "What do you want?" I ask rudely remembering suddenly that I still have to keep up the arrogant façade. You walk towards me, the nervous look in you eye melts my frosty glare into a look of complete confusion. Is this real? I ask myself, I mean really real?
When your less than a meter away from me you say my name but the bell rings and you step back. I want to say to you not to leave but words fail me and my sight is treated to your diminishing figure. I finish my cigarette and walk to class, cursing myself. It's Potions again. I sit down next to Blaise and watch as the classroom slowly fills up, a couple of minutes later a piece of paper hits me in the back, I'm about to throw it away when I see writing on it. It's untidy, mesmerising yet extremely familiar.
Meet me on the sixth floor tonight, at twelve.