A/N: Hey guys, thanks for all the reviews! Can you believe this is NUMBER THIRTY? Awesome. =D
He hated her.
He would ALWAYS hate her.
She was Harry Potter's bestfriend.
But despite his hate, he knew he would be there for her. Despite all the stupid dramatzing spats and disagreements, he would always come for her when she needed him. No one but her.
He couldn't explain it, but he wanted to fight for her. Sure, he wanted to fight her battles, but he wanted to fight for her. ALL OF HER. He wanted her to be his, and only his.
And it was strange, because he would give anything for her. His magic, his purity, his life. He didn't want to, but he know he would. He would die for the bushy-haired freak.
And he had no freakin' idea why.
No matter how many times he called her Mudblood, no matter how many times he insulted her friends, he couldn't deny the feelings he felt for her.
They were persistent little suckers. Once he realized he had them, they wouldn't leave him alone. Her words echoed in his dreams and her face filled the voids in his mind. He liked her.
How freakin' STUPID!
She was a MUDBLOOD!
But despite that, Draco found at times that he just wanted to call her out in the middle of the Great Hall, stand on a chair and shout his feeling. He wanted to rush over to her in the middle of the corriders, grab her face in his hands and kiss those damn lips of hers. He wanted to hug her and not give a crap about who was looking.
He didn't want her to leave him.
He didn't want her to hunt for Horcruxes.
All he freakin' wanted was her to be safe.
Hell, let's not lie.
All he freakin' wanted was her.
He remembered the first time he saw her. It was the sorting, of course. Gryffindor was shouted and she jumped up so happy he thought she would burst.
From then on, the looks she gave him were glares. Pure glares.
Except... once.
Once upon a time.
He was in the Muggle world. He was only thirteen at the time, and he came across Hermione Granger getting picked on by a group of girls.
He raised his eyebrows. Hermione Granger? Since when does she let people push her around?
He tapped the girls on the shoulder and asked just what the hell they were doing. They became flustered, blushing at the handsome boy.
He glared at them and grabbed Hermione, whisking her off to some kind of wonderland.
Then she smiled at him.
That's when it happened.
That's when it all began.
But then she forgot about it as soon as Saint Potter and Weasley came into the picture.
She didn't smile at him like she did before.
She didn't smile at him at all.
And yet, he still liked her.
Pathetic, isn't it?
That's when the magic started...
That's when she began to look at him again. She would smile at him in the corriders, and he smiled back. Why? Because he wanted to.
He ALWAYS wanted to smile at her.
Then, he was kissing her.
It was right after Dumbledore died. He caught her in the midst of people. She screamed, but he covered her mouth and carried her away. Then the sky cried. Then he kissed her.
Then he ran away.
But she ran after him.
So he told her.
Everything.
Every freakin' detail. And she sat and listened, her hair glistening with raindrops.
Then she hugged him, and Draco never felt more alive than in that moment.
And it was all just so beautiful. Because she stayed with him through it all.
That's when he knew.
He loved her.
And suddenly... purity didn't matter anymore.