Love Letters | By : JustAbi Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 4798 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
All Love Letters are from Draco to Harry.
Chapter
Seven
oOo
How is it that I can never make my body respond to you in a normal
manner? You looked at me so long I thought I might die waiting for you to come
to me. And then you did and I was happy,
but it couldn’t last longer than a single walk around the lake. My body has betrayed me again.
You were so close I could feel the heat of your body
in the cold air. I’ve been walking for
years with no problem, but with you there it was all I could do to put one foot
in front of the other without tripping on invisible obstacles, or stepping into
unseen holes. Your arms wrapped around
me for one perfect moment when you pulled me up from where I had fallen.
But then my head swam and water poured out my hands and
the vertigo didn’t subside until I shook you off. I wanted to hold your hand. It was swaying, open at your side, an
invitation when your fingers brushed mine as we went along. But my palms were hot and damp and I shoved
them in my pockets to keep them from giving me away.
You spoke to me like a friend, like someone whose
company you enjoy. You smiled shyly and
looked down at your feet and all I wanted was to kiss you. Your eyes are so beautiful, but I would drown
if I looked too long. It felt like we
walked forever, but it was over in a moment and you were gone back to your
friends and your responsibilities and left my heart in the mud at the edge of
the lake.
oOo
I will be better off without you when at home. There are no reminders that you ever
possessed a part of me outside the grounds of Hogwarts. Once I am back in my room, with my things, I
will be myself again. I won’t crave the
brush of your shoulder as you pass me in the halls, or the sound of your
laughter piercing the din of a thousand voices at dinner.
I’ll go back to resenting you for the privileges you
enjoy without even noticing them. The
heat of hatred and anger will replace the chill of missing you that has somehow
filled my chest. Every morning I will
remember my duty to my family and forget the sentimental ties with which you
have bound me to the enemy.
And when I see you again, I won’t ache to lock my eyes
with yours, to crush my lips to yours, to feel for myself that you are still
mine. All I need is time away from you
to rid myself of this need to be near you.
I will forget the mess you call hair that demands someone run their
fingers through it. All I need is time.
oOo
Your friends are writing to me.
Why are *your* bloody friends writing to *me*? Shouldn’t they be, oh, I
don’t know, saving the Wizarding World from people like me instead of trying to
strike up a correspondence with me? And unlike some people, I was brought up
with manners so I can’t just ignore them as I really ought to be doing. It’s like Death Eater Summer Camp here and
I’m trading owls with Dumbledoree’s minions every
five minutes.
Someone is going to notice. It’s only a matter of time. Practically everyone from Slytherin is camped
out at my house right now. Pansy will
notice for certain, though with Granger’s verbosity even Crabbe
and Goyle might notice. I think Blaise may
have already. He keeps watching me, the
suspicious little git. He’s probably
reporting to my father that I send love letters to the Mudblood every night. What a laugh.
Not you, though.
You’ve never sent me a single letter.
I don’t even know what your handwriting looks like, and yet I could copy
Granger’s from memory. Weasley says you
are fine, and that I needn’t worry that you’ve been murdered in your sleep or
had your hands cut off or been locked away in the cupboard under the
stairs. As I have been assured that
nothing untoward has befallen you to prevent your writing me, I can only assume
that you simply do not wish to and leave it at that.
According to Granger, she and Weasley have been
together all summer, and she has never been happier. I wonder where that leaves you. Shut up in the same house as your friends,
but alone, none the less, while they shag the stuffing out of each other and
you twiddle your thumbs. Well, turn
about is fair play and Ron deserves to have it, no matter how put out you feel.
But I know how you hate to be alone. It’s probably intolerable for you at this
point, and I know you’re with the Weasleys.
Are you buggering one of the fuckwit twins,
yet, or both, perhaps? More likely you’ve taken up with the little Weasley
bitch. She always did want to lick your
boots.
oOo
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