Hating Harry Potter

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Chapter 1 - the Fall - soundtrack - Rainbow - Snowman (Album; bent out of shape)
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Malfoy almost hit the ground, when Harry got hold of him. He swung him up on the seat, and Malfoy held on for dear life. Harrys heart was thundering like mad, and he couldn't really see why. He should have landed immediatly, but he didn't. He flew a bit away from the castle, and landed there, beside a tree. He let Malfoy dismount first, before he let the broom rest on a huge rock. "Are you okay?" Malfoy didn't reply at first, his face was whiter than usual. "Are you all right?"

Harry felt a deep surge of worry run through him, and he placed his hand on Malfoys shoulder, and shook him slightly. "Malfoy?" Draco Malfoy looked up, confusion and pain clearly protrudent in his eyes. "No, Potter, I'm not." Malfoys voice had been unusally calm. And then he'd hit him. Harry landed on his back in the high grass,caught totally unaware, jaw pulsating with pain. Malfoy had towered above him as Harry rubbed his jaw. "What the..?" "Just shut up, for one bloody minute, Potter." Malfoys voice was the voice of an animal, trapped, it was nothing more than a growl.

Harry made to sit up when Draco knelt down, pushing him back. Harry could only make out his eyes as a steely blur, before Malfoys lips were on his, before Malfoys hands were around his neck, and pulling his hair, kissing him like they would die in a matter of seconds, kissing him like he'd never ever kissed anyone, with a passion that had been overwhelming. Harry couldn't help but join in the kiss, weak-kneed, and glossy-eyed. When Malfoy let him go, Harry had no idea what to say, and neither, apparently, did Malfoy. Harry sat up, he was short of breath and dizzy. "Why....what...Malfoy?" But Malfoy was already gone.

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Hermione really wished she'd left the Omniculars that day. She only brought it to please Ron anyway, and it was a good excuse for him to stand close to her, so he could see his own Quidditch moves in repetition.She zoomed in on Harry and Malfoy, got the hit, and then ...the kiss. The grass made it hard to see, but it wasn't really a question of seeing it to have to believe it. Malfoy had kissed Harry first, not the other way around. Hermione was glad for Harry, but she couldn't see how Ron could ever be.

Ron's earlobes turned red, as he grabbed the Omniculars from Hermione, and replayed the scene over and over again. Hermione ran after him when he took off, Omniculars left on the ground.

Harry had seen Ron and Hermione running off, and flew over to where the Omniculars lay abandonded. He too, replayed the kiss, over and over, feeling a strong need to see Malfoy again. To ask him why, to continue the kiss, to hold him again. Harrys face was crimson as he entered the Gryffindor tower, where Ron glared at him from a chair. Harry did understand him. Even from that distance, it had been clear in the Omniculars that Harry wasn't disgusted by Malfoys kiss.

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They didn't speak all afternoon. When the clock struck, it was time to leave for dinner, they did. Harry sat halfway through the meal, glancing at the Slytherins every few seconds. After a while, he simply stared. He wanted an explanation from Malfoy, but going over there, confronting him? No. There had to be a different way. Harrys stare was met with a cold, narrow glare that could only belong to Draco Malfoy. The piercing stare gave him shivers, his hair stood up everywhere on his body, and he gulped for air. The kiss, the passion of Malfoy still burning, slow as coals in his body, wanted him to go to Malfoy and kiss him, right then, right there. But Harrys sense got to him first, so he left the Hall, waiting, lurking in the shadows, hoping he would catch Malfoy on his own.

Harry waited.

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Malfoy sat quite still, not eating, not speaking. The glares from his so-called comrades were nothing. He'd endured far worse. He was a Malfoy. He knew what was coming, and he thought it best to be over with. As he left the Hall, the Slytherin student mass followed him like a giant black and green serpent, gliding in his trail. He went into the empty corridors, and he waited.

The first hits weren't at all hard. Like they were warming up. They didn't stop, and eventually Draco bled. He did nothing to defend himself, as he knew he had it coming. Not for having kissed the Boy Who Lived, oh no. For being caught. Slytherins don't get caught.

When Draco sank to his knees from the pain, he heard shouting, spells flew everywhere, and the beating stopped. He was lifted up, and even before he opened his eyes he knew it was him. Bloody Saint Potter, saved him again. The scent was him, the feel was him, he knew it had to be him.

And it was.
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A/N: I know it's a short chapter, but when I'm going back and forth between stories, I find it difficult to "keep my voice", and write similarly as I've done in the story before. I hope to write and post more soon, but this weekend I'll be at the cabin in the woods, so I might get some time there to write.
I would really like reviews on this one, it's a bit different from what I usually write.