Another Day | By : Addy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 2470 -:- 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. |
ANOTHER DAY
by WretchedScar
© October 2, 2005
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all of its entities belong to J.K. Rowling. No infringement intended.
Genre: H/D; PG-13 for language here and there, pure fluff (I needed to do a short one shot, folks!); Draco’s POV
Fuck, it isn’t easy dating the boy-who-lived. Especially when you have to keep your relationship (for all that it’s worth) with him a secret. That’s right, I’m dating bloody-Harry-Potter, folks - the wizarding world’s boy savior.
“Hi,” he says to me, rushing up to wrap his arms around my neck and engulf me in a passionate kiss. “How was your runes class?”
“Boring as hell,” I chuckle and kiss him quickly but deeply on the lips in return. I note that we’ve met, once again in a quiet, abandoned classroom near the dungeons where no one will find us - ‘together’.
Believe it or not, I’ve been the one who has wanted to come out to everyone as a couple - not him. No, Harry refuses to have anyone but us in on our little relationship. It didn’t really bother me at first - I was quite content to just have him at odd times in the days (and nights) and to know, in the back of my mind that he was mine. But lately, oh lately . . .
I nibble on his earlobe . . . he simply loves this. “Come with me to the yuletide ball, Potter,” I whisper in-between frisky nibbles at his soft skin. I feel frustrated when he sighs and pushes away, against me.
“Draco, I’ve already told you . . . no,” his voice hides nothing what-so-ever.
“I don’t get you!” I can hear my own voice starting to raise. “How can you want this?!”
“Want what? To be with you?! How could I not!” he glares at me. I glare right back in return.
“I don’t want to hide what we have anymore,” I state firmly.
“Take it or leave it,” he challenges.
Oh Merlin, if only I were a stronger man . . . if only . . . “You’ve yet to tell me why, Potter.” I look at him, my arms hanging limply by my sides as if I’ve already fallen in defeat. “Why?” I ask. I wait. There is no answer.
“Can we just leave it for now?” he states quietly, biting his lower lip and waiting, looking at me with that look - I can’t stand it. I just want to slap him. Slap that look off of his face and tell him to fuck off.
“Suit yourself,” I state with a firm look. “I’ll go with Pansy then,” I know it’s harsh, but enough is enough. I turn to leave and already and I can feel and hear him coming after me.
“Draco! Wait!” his voice is slightly shaky - I enjoy that.
“What,” I state with a crisp clip, “what is it now, Potter? Want to spend more quality time together - in private?” I sneer the last bit.
“I thought we agreed we’d go alone to the ball,” he states, the confusion evident in his voice. How can he not get it? How can he not understand?
“I’ve changed my mind,” I huff. “Just like you, I can make some calls on a few things, too, you know.”
“Is that what this is all about?” he rolls his eyes. “Trying to gain the upper hand?” he is almost taunting me.
That’s it. Enough is enough. I move quickly towards him, catching him by surprise, and I hear him gasp as I push him up, roughly, against the cold, stone dungeon wall. “Think you’re so smart, do you Potter?”
“No, I-“ he starts.
I cut him off, “How is it you always think I’m going to do things your way? I’m tired of sitting around waiting for you to make up your mind, to give me answers . . . to just fucking be mine!” I slam my fist against the wall, ignoring the pain, breathing frantically as it all comes to one big boiling point.
He closes his eyes . . . closes his eyes!
“Look at me!” I say. And he does.
“I am yours,” he says quietly.
The quiet takes us both in . . . embraces us until it’s shattered.
“No you’re not,” I stated quietly, looking him straight in the eye. I turn to leave.
* * *
Like I said earlier . . . it’s not easy dating the boy who lived. It sucks. Majorly sucks. What is his problem with us being together for everyone to see? It’s not as though the wizarding world is against these things! It’s quite common for couples to be of the same sex - united through love, marriage, hell even hate. Sometimes the unexpected is accepted without a single thought otherwise. Well in most cases, that is. Harry Potter isn’t most cases.
So here I sit, at a table, at the yuleball with a bunch of other Slytherins, Pansy by my side - wishing for that one thing that has yet to be. Which may never be.
“Draco,” I hear her say quietly to me and I wince. Some days I hate having to spend company with anyone but Harry.
“What,” I ask, resigned to my fate of unfavorable companionship for the night.
“Pay attention to me! I swear, I should have just come alone at this rate,” she complains, throwing up her arms in a fed up gesture. Everyone else at the table is oblivious - except Blaise. Blaise, well, he’s looking at me as though he knows more than he should. He always does - I mean what are best friends for, right?
I look around the darkened room - lights are dimmed for effect, the night sky above in the great hall twinkling with crystal stars . . . music plays, people dance, chat, and make merry . . . together.
My gaze saunters around slowly - looking for that one person I want to find - that one person who said he was mine . . . he’s not there. Somewhere, out there, I know he’s alone. I find satisfaction in that. Knowing that he can’t be with anyone - hell it seems that if things weren’t private between the two of us he wouldn’t even be with me! But why?
“DRACO!” Pansy smacks me upside the head. I wince and turn a rather threatening glare towards her.
“What the hell was that for?!” I grit out, desperately trying to restrain myself from smacking her right back. Wouldn’t want to cause a scene. Malfoys never caused a scene except for when it would be in their benefit.
“I’m sick of you being distracted,” she states and stands up. “I’m going to go dance with Theodore.”
“Fine! Go! See if I care, you bitch,” I mutter. I sit alone. No one at the table really bats an eyelash about what transpires, but I see Blaise still staring at me, still with a knowing look.
“And what is wrong with you!?” I inquire suddenly.
“Nothing,” he states. “I just figured you’d be here with someone else.”
Amazing. Absolutely amazing.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say quietly.
“If I were you,” he states quietly to me. “I’d just say to hell with it all and give into what is. Enjoy it while you can.”
“Sometimes it’s not that easy,” I give that much to him in return.
“Sure it is,” he smirks. “Sometimes you just have to compromise, you just have to take what is given and be thankful for what you have.”
“Be thankful for what I have? Is it really that simple Blaise?” I ask with a snort. But damnit,a moment later I think, maybe he’s right?
I pick up my half empty cup of pumpkin punch and swirl the liquid around and around. I watch it calm and then pick up speed, repeating the cycle again before it becomes too much and it all splashes over the rim of the glass, staining the white tablecloth. “I’m going to call it a night,” I say quietly. I stand to leave and do so with no where to go.
* * *
It isn’t easy having to contend with romance . . . it isn’t easy giving up what you want because you love someone. But sometimes . . . it’s the best thing to do.
He doesn’t see me standing in the doorway to the Owlery, doesn’t see me watching him sit alone on the windowsill, stroking his owl with loving care. He can’t see the way the moonlight turns his black hair blue or the way the stars shimmer against his skin, making his emerald eyes turn a dark, forest green. But I do. I see him. I want him.
“Are you truly mine?” I ask quietly as I walk towards him.
“I told you I was,” he replies, not once moving his gaze from the night outside.
“Just please, tell me why, Harry?” I am pleading. It’s a disgrace! But necessary.
Silence. Always the silence.
And then . . .
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
So that’s the answer then? I want to laugh - laugh so hard I would cry. It’s unreal!
He turns, suddenly, catching all of my emotions off-guard and halting them, “You think it’s ridiculous don’t you? But let me tell you,” he jumps off the window-sill sending Hedwig flying away, and advances on me - me this time - sending me back a step or two. “I have a list of names of people whom I have loved who have died because of me. Because I loved them!”
“Every relationship has risks . . “ I start.
He doesn’t let me finish, “No, this is different. Just think about it - if Voldemort found out about you and I . . . if your father found out . . . if”
“I am sick and tired of living with the ‘if’s’, Potter! I am sick and tired of you surrendering to your fear!” I yell. I swallow. Did I just say that out loud?
He pales vividly in front of me and swallows. That’s it.
“Just how wrong is it for you to be afraid?” I ask.
“I can’t be . . .” he states.
“Yes you can. And you know what? Let me be there to stand by you and shoulder some of that! Let me take the risk because . . . Potter . . . . you’re so worth it,” I say hotly and advance on him. It’s a short distance until we meet again, toe to toe, eye to eye. “You’re worth my life.”
I hold out my hand, and wait. It’s not a handshake or an offer . . . it’s a fact.
“Please,” I ask.
He doesn’t take my hand, he doesn’t answer my request with words, instead he moves to be taken into my arms. I feel his head rest on my shoulder and I hear him take a deep breath and I embrace him, protect him . . . he is mine.
“I’m sorry,” he states with emotion in his voice. We both know this isn’t an apology or an excuse . . . it just is.
I gently reach to move his head away from my shoulder so that I can look at his face. “Just you and me, no one else needs to know . . . for now,” I amend. I see the relief in his eyes, the thankfulness and I know then and there that when you truly love someone, sometimes you’re just willing to sacrifice your happiness for theirs - sometimes it simply is just a compromise.
I see the regret there as well, in his eyes, I see the worry . . . and without a second thought I lean in to kiss it all away. We kiss, and I feel the power that exists between the two of us.
His lips are so soft . . . so sweet . . . so mine. I guess it’s just better this way for now. Besides, what noone knows won’t hurt us.
“For now . . . just for now . . .” he gives me that much. For now, I’ll just wait another day.
* * *
Finis. Thank you for reading!
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