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Dappled moonbeams licked their luminescent way across the desks; long strips of golden thread consuming the blackness within. A boy with white blonde hair sat pensively upon one of the tables, silver grey eyes piercing holes in the ghostly lit atmosphere. Glistening cobwebs curled themselves tightly around the oaken door, sparkling enchantingly in the candle light. The boy yawned widely, before resting his head in his hands. A faint knock sounded from outside. Tiptoeing subtly on the flag stoned floor he crept towards the door. Reaching out, he turned the iron handle. There, adorned in midnight black robes, and wearing a face of beautiful innocence, stood Harry Potter. ‘Beautiful innocence?’, Draco thought. ‘Why the hell did you describe your worst enemy as that? Yuck.

“You wanted to see me, Malfoy?”

Draco nodded. “We have much to discuss.”

Quick as a flash, Potter produced his wand.

“What’s that for?,” Draco asked, shrewdly eyeing the weapon. “Did you suspect I asked for a duel, or something?”

“It’s obvious,” Harry said sullenly, looking anywhere but at his foe. “You always do.”

He looked so sad, green eyes swimming in green worlds. ‘Disgusting. Why am I thinking such grotesque things?’ There was such pity, so full of weariness. Sympathy aligned his exhausted features. Sympathy? Why would Potter be feeling that? ‘And more importantly’ thought Draco contemptibly, ‘why had I thought that in the first place? I must be going insane.’

“You are incorrect,” Draco answered waveringly, taking his own wand out of his pocket. “I want to do quite the opposite.” Before Potter could exchange another word, the young Malfoy dropped his wand to the floor. Using his foot, he kicked out, watching it roll delicately, almost ballet like, across the flint paving.

“I-I don’t understand,” Potter spluttered, sweating profusely.

“Sorry?”

“I thought this was going to be your night of revenge. I . . . I was so sure you were going to kill me.” Poor Potter. He was so confused, his dark heavy brows outlining and emphasising his emerald olive eyes. He straightened up, peering at Malfoy intently. “Do you feel guilty about what you nearly did to Dumbledore?”

Draco’s eyes flashed with shocked remorse. “I have a lot to explain, Potter . . there’s certain things I don’t know how to say, how to explain, but, they need to be said.”

Harry blinked. “I don’t get it.”

Draco sneered. “I quit. I don’t know why it is, but I can’t seem to hate you anymore. Something’s wrong; really wrong. Whenever I see you, there’s never temptation to break your bones.”

“Ok . . . .”

“There’s no desire to watch you squirm under the suffering curse . . .”

“Alright,” Harry whispered. “I think I get the point.”

“There’s, there’s no . . . there’s no lust for vengeance. I know that before I blamed you for the imprisonment of my father, but that’s over. It was the Ministry’s fault. You can’t help saving the wizarding world, because it’s what you do!!” Draco stopped, and although there was anger, acceptance showed on his face also.

“Malfoy,” Harry began, taking a wary step back. “Malfoy- that really doesn’t make sense.”

Draco scowled. “So what if it doesn’t make sense?! Aren’t you grateful, Potter?!!!”, he snapped, a hellish glint in his eyes. “I said I quit.”

Suspicious opal-green eyes squinted back. “Why?”

Draco took a deep breath. “How many times do I have to tell you, Pothead??”, he roared. “I don’t know!!”



Wanna know who you are,
Wanna know where to start,
I wanna know what this means.



“Do you, do you like feeling this way?,” Harry asked curiously, sitting down on one of the tables.

“No, Potter!! I hate feeling like it!!! I don’t want to like you, but . . . I do!! And, and, I don’t have a clue why!!” He stamped his foot, confusion and self-pity alight in his grey eyes. Draco sniffed. “I don’t expect you to know what the hell is happening, but know now that I never wanted this. At all.”

Harry blinked. “You’re, you’re scaring me Malfoy.”

“You see, you see,” retorted Draco. “Before, I would have loved that I am, but now? I don’t want to scare you!! But I wish I did!! It’s like, I’ve changed.”



I don't wanna talk about it
And I don't want a conversation



Harry scratched his nose, thinking hard. “Well, maybe you don’t hate me. And, you should just accept it. It would make things a lot easier for us. I mean, think about it,” he rushed, “You won’t have to try and come up with insults anymore, duel me pointlessly!!”

“Yes, but, Potter, that’s supposed to be fun! I’m your worst enemy, and . . .” Draco paused. “I hate myself.”

“Don’t say that. You’re just a bit muddled, Malfoy.”

Draco stared. “And what about you?,” he snarled, though with none of the malicious core. “Why aren’t you telling me to get lost, or anything? You’re as bad as I am!!”

Harry stopped, looking anywhere but at Malfoy. “Well, I don’t know, maybe I want to finish our stupid rivalry too? Did you ever think about that?”

Draco shrugged listlessly. “Do I care?!”



I don't wanna fall to pieces
I just wanna sit and stare at you


“Yes, Malfoy,” Harry nodded. “And that’s what this is all about.”

“Why can’t we just go back in time? Things would go back to normal.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s happened after all,” Harry answered smoothly.

“What?,” snapped Draco, sneering.

“Maybe you’ve finally grown up . . . and so have I.”

They were silent for a few moments, just sat, staring at the walls of the classroom. “I don’t know, Potter. It’s really pissing me off though.”

“So, what happens when you try and curse me?”

Draco shook his head. “No. I don’t want to . . . to hurt you. Ur, this is so wrong. What the HELL is going on, Potter??!!”



Wanna know how you feel,
Wanna know what is real.
I wanna know everything... Everything



“Hmm. I’m not sure, Malfoy”, Harry said, retrieving the wand back to his pocket.

Draco snorted. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly. “Perhaps, perhaps for some inexplicable reason . . . I trust you?”

“You do?,” Draco asked, surprised. “But, but,” he stammered, clearly uncomfortable at the lack of conflict he was receiving from the conversation. “Surely, if I was tricking you? . . .”

“You’re not,” Harry answered bluntly. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have offered the possibility.”

Draco folded his arms, huffing and pouting like a small child. “Oh, for the sake of Merlin, I want to know what is going on!!”

“Ok,” Harry replied calmly, in a tone that could just as well have belonged to a Muggle psychologist. “Think back. When was the first time you felt, like you’re feeling?”

Draco closed his eyes. “It was at the Triwizard Tournament.”

“What?,” gasped Harry, nearly falling sideways off the desk. “But, Malfoy, that was two years ago!!”

“SO?!,” Draco shouted, losing his temper. “I was manipulated by Umbridge in fifth year, and I was put under the Imperius curse last year. That’s why I neatly put the suffering curse on you. I had to do everything, but I fought against it when the time came for me to kill Dumbledore.”

“I see. And, what about this?” Harry rose an eyebrow, indicating to0 his nose.

“Father’s orders. That was before the Unforgivable was placed on me.”

“Oh.”

“So, so can you remember the exact time you realised you didn’t hate me?”

Draco thought back as far as he could remember. “It was . . . in the second task, when you came out of the lake.”

Harry leant back. “Right. Um, after I rescued Fleur Delacour’s sister, and Ron too. Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Ok, we might be getting somewhere now.”

“I felt respect. That’s it!!,” Draco yelled ecstatically. “I felt like you deserved to win the Tournament, but of course, I had to fake happiness when I saw you, But, that’s why after the tasks, I never spoke to you for the rest of the time. Apart from, on the train, but that was Crabbe’s idea for me to brag like that. Sorry about, you know, but I couldn’t help it. I was a true Slytherin, and-“

“Hang on,” Harry said, frowning. “You just apologised.”

Draco gave a curt nod. “Why? Does it make a difference?”

“Maybe.” Harry’s brows furrowed a little. “Let’s sum this up, shall we? You felt respect, when I saved Gabrielle, and Ron . . . you were happy when you saw me, you admit to not wanting to say that nasty speech about Cedric Diggory . . . and, and you’re sorry. Well, I’m sorry Malfoy, but-,” He stared, shocked and pleasantly surprised by the outcome of their conversation. “I don’t think, no wait- I KNOW that you don’t hate me anymore.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Yes, Potter. I know that. But what about the reason?!”

Harry’s shoulders rose. “I’m not sure, but you just don’t want to fight now. So, let’s try being civil, yeah?”

Draco nodded. “Yes. I could do that.”

“Ok. So, we’re being civil. How does it feel?”

“Like, like,” Draco continued confusedly, biting his lip with befuddlement. “Like something is missing.”

“Really? What?”

“Wait!,” Draco ordered. “Another memory’s just come back. Let’s see. I was . . . “ he got down from the table, pacing the floor. “I remember I felt respect just as you were . . . Oh shit. Oh shit, shit, shit!!”

“Hey!,” Harry said reassuringly. “What’s wrong?”

“YOU, POTTER!!”, screamed Draco, sickened by what he had just seen in his mind’s eye. “You are wrong, so wrong!!”

“No,” Harry commented slowly. “No, I think I’m right, actually. Pretty sure I am.”

“No, you misunderstand me!! Listen, Potter!! For once in your sad, miserable little life, listen!!”

Harry listened.

“You are wrong, but . . . the right kind of . . . wrong.”

“Well done Malfoy. Never knew you were such a poet!!,” Harry laughed.

Draco was looking like the time Hermione Granger had slapped him in the face. “I know what it is.”

“You do?!” Harry was impressed.

“The first time,” Draco started slowly, blinking by the incredulity of it all, “I felt respect for you was when you were . . . um . . . in your trunks.”

“Scuse me?,” Harry replied shakily. “My trunks? My swimming trunks?”

Draco gazed at the stone floor. “Yes, Potter. Your swimming trunks.”

“Malfoy?” Harry began stammering a bit. “Do you . . . fancy me, or something?”

He looked up, thought for a second, and then nodded.

“Oh, Merlin. Well, um, well, flattered as I am-“ Harry concluded, making his way to the door. “I must be going. I’m, er, glad you worked it out, but let’s keep this to ourselves, right?”

“Stay awhile. I need to know.”

“Need to know what?”

“What it feels like, to have, to kiss a . . . um, you.” Draco’s upper lip curled in fascinated disgust. “Come on, Potter. I need to know if I’m right.”

Harry sighed, trailing his fingers through his black hair. “Ok, lover boy. Let’s get this over and done with.”

From somewhere deep, deep, deep down inside, an explosion commenced. Draco rushed forwards, throwing his arms around Potter. He kissed him roughly, planting tight, wet lips passionately. Draco ran his wandering hands through Potter’s onyx hair, feeling every strand, embracing the velvety touch of Potter’s robes, secretly desiring him to take them off. If Draco could have heard it, he now owned a finally satisfied, blissful heart. To Draco it seemed, he had been released from the burning pyres of a crimson Hell, and welcomed into the forgiving arms of a golden heaven. Finally, he broke away. “I worked it out, and, I’m sorry Potter. Sorry.”

With that Draco left the classroom, leaving Potter alone, confused and mixed up in his own thoughts.


Authors Note: Thanks goes to Dracana, for suggesting I try slash. After this, came 'Decimated Dreams.' As always, reviews are welcomed with open arms, and your comments are treasured. Please do say whether you loved/hated this. Believe it or not, it really does help. Construcitve critiscm goes a long way. I really hope you liked it, but remember, lol, you didn't have to!! :) xx

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