Bloody Kisses

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Draco Malfoy



Class finally ended. Everyone seemed to be in a rush to leave the dungeon classroom, gathering their belongings and herding like mad cattle from the room. I noticed Potter still lingering behind, struggling under a large stack of books.



"Go on without me, I have some business to handle," I told Crabbe and Goyle, ignoring their confused looks. Well, to be honest, they always looked confused.



Goyle crossed his over-sized arms, pouting, “Why can't we come along?"



I thought up a clever lie so they might stop following me around like the loyal dogs they were for awhile, "Because I need to pick up some books from the library, nitwit. I doubt you two can even read. Just go get some dinner and I'll meet you up at the Slytherin common room after."



Perfect. They hated the library. Too many books, too quiet, not enough girls to ogle or first year students to torture. Not to mention, I've never seen them skip out on a meal. Crabbe and Goyle stomped from the room and off towards the Great Hall, stomachs growling in unison. After everyone had disappeared down the hall, Potter carefully stepped towards the door with myself sauntering a few feet ahead. What should I do now that I had him alone? There's no way I could confess my feelings for him right now, the timing's all wrong, hell, I wasn't ready to confess my feelings to myself let alone the damn Boy Who Lived himself! Bloody out of ideas, I held the large wooden door open for Harry.



In my most polite voice, I bowed and chimed, "After you, your Highness."



Glaring over his mountain of literature, he hobbled past me.



Potter's green eyes widened behind his glasses as his right foot collided with my own, loosing his balance. Quite pleased with myself, I watched as the Gryffindor tripped, stumbled, and fell hard onto the stone ground. An endless barrage of books and papers scattered out into the deserted hallway. I couldn't believe Harry Potter fell for the oldest trick in the book. Gathering up his glasses, Potter struggled to his feet and turned to see my smiling face.



I shook my head pitifully, "Watch your step there, Potter."



Reaching down and grinning all the while, I wiped off my shoe he had so ungracefully tripped on. That was all the Gryffindor could take. Harry Potter snapped. Before I could realize what was happening or reach for my wand to stop it, Potter screamed like a banshee and ran at me. Catching me off guard, his thin frame easily tackled me to the floor. This would of been most welcomed, Potter on top of me in a rage, except for his flailing limbs punching and kicking. I could also happily done without the boy's mad screaming as well.



"You bloody fucking bastard!!" Harry screeched, his wand rolling away unnoticed as he wrestled me across the stone.



"Way to fight like a muggle, Potter..." I hissed, trying to defend myself from his crazed attacks.



In the tangled mass of arms and legs I began to think I had underestimated his strength. Not to say I'm weak or anything, but I do prefer magic over physical warfare. My wand, I frantically searched my pockets, where the hell was my wand? I looked up in time to see it rolling across the hall, way out of reach.



"Well fuck," I muttered under my breath, dodging a swing from Potter's fist.



Without my wand in hand, I decided on fighting back as well as I could and praying that Goyle and Crabbe had left something behind in the classroom. With a little bullying from them, Harry Potter would be no more than a pile of mush with glasses. I managed to climb on top of the boy somehow and hold his arms down, giving him a few good kicks. He yelped in anger, pushing me easily from his chest and swinging a fist at my face again, this time I didn't dodge fast enough. I cried out in pain. That bastard just punched me in the nose! Glaring up at him, I wasn't surprised to see Potter looking as shocked as I was. He stared wide-eyed down at me as I pulled free from his loosened grasp, clenching my hands into fists.



"No one...," I growled, shaking with anger, "No one....hits a Malfoy in the face!!"



Before Potter had a chance to act, my fist landed hard on the side of his own face. He toppled back along the stone floors, his hands cradling the point of impact.



"One hundred points for Slytherin," I grinned as I rubbed my sore knuckles. I could taste blood, probably from my throbbing nose.



"Fuck..." Potter gasped through his hands, "God....fucking....dammit!"



I smiled, wiping the blood from my face as more trickled down across my lips, "I've got plenty more where that came from, fucker." I glanced down at my injured fist, hoping I could back up that comment.



“I’ve fucking had it with you, Draco!" Potter suddenly lunged at me, knocking me to the ground yet again. This time my head hit the stone floor making my ears ring and my vision blur. I struggled under his weight, my eyes slowly coming back into focus. God that hurt. Without his hands covering his face, I noticed a cut had formed across Potter's cheek, remnants of my father's Slytherin house ring on my right hand. Make that two hundred points to Slytherin for making Harry Potter bleed.



"I never did shit to you! Why the hell won't you just leave me alone?" Harry yelled in my face, holding my hands firmly to the ground.



I snickered, trying to ignore my quickening pulse. I couldn't tell if it was from adrenaline or the fact I lay beneath the boy I had been lusting over all this time. Probably both. The chaos of the fight was calming down. My head was still spinning from it's visit with the cold stone below us. I didn't want to admit it, but I was ready to throw in the gloves and give up. Thankfully, Potter didn't seem like he would continue beating on me. The boy was always more of a talker than a fighter, regardless of his short temper. And now here we lay.... Oh Merlin. Potter. Harry Potter was on top of me. I could feel every tense muscle in his rigid frame...



I bit my lip to stop the words but they came out anyway, "Has anyone ever told you you're adorable when you're angry?"



Potter snorted at me, his blood dripping down onto my bottom lip as he hovered inches from my face, "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"



His body felt so right on top of me, so inviting. If I could, I'd have Potter right here in this hallway. Boy, that'd surprise the hell out of him. Or would it? Only one way to find out...



I grinned, licking his spilled blood from my lips. But Potter had no time to react and that single action was nothing to what came next. Harry made a surprised yelp as I grabbed the back of his head, pulling him down to my lips. The sweet, coppery taste of our combined blood was heavenly. Before I could truly indulge, Potter jerked away and punched me across the face. Pain blinded me, blood spurting from my nose and mouth across the stone floor.



"You sick fuck!" Harry cried, scrambling to his feet.



He hastily wiped any remnants of my blood from his lips with the sleeve of his Griffindor robe. I struggled to sit up but before I could even recover from the last blow, Potter swung his foot hard at my left side, landing it against my ribs. I doubled over as more pain seared through my chest. Damn all that Quidditch practice... I coughed up some blood and spit across the cold floor before me, squinting through damp eyes at the site of it. Anger rose in me. Anger and rejection.



"You never gave me a fucking chance Potter....never!.." I hissed, coughing still, "Ever since the day we met.....you've hated me!...I never had a chance!" I looked up at the boy through stinging tears, wanting him to see just how much I meant what I was saying, just how much he had hurt me, "If you hadn't listened to that Weasley fuck we could have been friends! Great....fucking....friends!!"



But Harry Potter just glared down at me, still looking rather disgusted, "Fuck you, Malfoy." His voice was cold. Just like it always was when he talked to me. Like he was talking to a servant, a peasant, a-a nobody!



"No....fuck you Potter!" I hissed, a tear trickling down my cheek.



Potter took a menacing step towards me and I closed my eyes, awaiting the blow. He kicked me even harder this time, hitting my chest, my side, my ribs, over and over again. When he finally backed away I curled into a tight ball, struggling to catch my breath from the blinding pain. That fucking bastard knocked the wind out of me. Turning away, Potter gathered his scattered belongings. I watched as he walked off, leaving me gasping for air in the empty hall.



Gathering up an ounce of breath, I wheezed, "Please.....don't go," as Potter turned a bend in the long hallway much to far to hear. He disappeared around the corner, "I was just beginning to.....enjoy this..."




Harry Potter



Even though I limped down the halls, bruised and battered, I was feeling more powerful than ever before. Draco Malfoy lay defeated on the floor in front of his beloved Potions class and I was the one who brought the Slytherin down. The fight, being still fresh in my adrenaline pumped mind, was an absolute blur. First, that little snake had tripped me. Then, he was.....kissing me? The next thing I knew, my foot was landing so hard on Draco's side that it still hurt. I've never been in a fight my whole life. Sure, my cousin Dudley and I had a few scuffles back at my Aunt and Uncle's home on Privet Drive, but those were nothing like this. Uncle Vernon always pulled us apart and locked me away in my room. 'No food for a week!' He'd bellow as I was shut away in the make-shift prison for yet another long day. Then Aunt Petunia, rambling about how wicked I was to hurt her 'Ickle Duddykins', would get my pig cousin some ice cream. Obviously, I never won any of those fights, I never even started any of those fights, I was merely defending myself from my terror of a cousin. The fight with Draco, however, was a real fight. And this fight, I had won.



Spotting a boy's bathroom, I turned and entered it, hoping everyone was still at dinner in the Great Hall. Sure enough, the room was empty. I must look like a total disaster. Placing my books down next to a sink, I stared at the mirror before me. What a wreck. My glasses had miraculously stayed in one piece, thank god. The spell Hermione always uses to fix them had slipped my mind for the moment. My hair was all tousled and standing straight up in spots. So it actually looked like it always did, since my hair had a mind of it's own. My lips were still a red with blood from where Malfoy had forced himself on me. Why the hell did he kiss me? I rubbed furiously at them, trying to remove any taste of the Slytherin that was left behind. The large red sore spot on my cheek where Draco had punched me was already turning an ugly purple. Across the center of it, reaching almost from my cheek bone to my nose, was a large, bloody gash. It's a good thing I hadn't run into anyone in the hall, someone might mistaken me for Slytherin's ghost, The Bloody Baron. After washing away all the blood and dusting off my robe, I appeared almost presentable. I sighed in relief. Ok, so that wasn't so bad. As I stared curiously back into the mirror at the long red gash across my face, the realization of what had just happened hit me hard.



Oh god.... Have I lost my mind? Why did I snap like that and attack Draco Malfoy? This isn't like me at all! What if Draco was hurt really bad? I couldn't stop hitting him... and all that blood on his face, on the floor, on-on me! I stared wide eyed in horror at my reflection. Come to think of it, Draco didn't say anything snotty to me as I walked away. Maybe something is wrong!



In a wave of sudden panic I rushed to the door, leaving my books on the sink. How could I be so stupid? God, I hope no one's found him yet. Just as I reached for the bathroom door, a rush of footsteps sounded from the hall.



I gasped, backing away from the door as the familiar voice of Professor McGonagall headed down the hallway outside the bathroom, "He's over here, Madam Pomfrey!"



"Oh no," I whispered, pressing back against the wall as my heart dropped down to my stomach. Had they seen me? Did they know about the fight?



"Draco's been hurt pretty bad," she went on, a hint of worry in her stern voice as she talked with Madam Pomfrey, "He's refusing to say who or what attacked him. He won't stand and I'm afraid to move him alone." The pair passed by, headed quickly in the direction of the dungeons.



"Is anyone with him now?" another worried woman's voice, which I assumed to be the school's nurse, Madam Pomfrey, spoke softly with the Professor.



McGonagall sighed, "Yes, Professor Snape is. I truly hope there isn't another creature causing havoc in the halls again. We've had enough trouble at Hogwarts lately."



"I hope there isn't either. The hospital wing is still stocking up all of the potions and resources we ran out of during the last incident." Madam Pomfrey's voice started to fade off into the distance as they turned a bend in the hall, "Go and find Dumbledore. He can try to talk with Draco once we bring him to the hospital wing..."



I found myself up against the bathroom wall, sliding slowly down the cool tile until I reached the cool stone floor, pulling my knees protectively to my chest. Everything was happening so fast. If Professor McGonagall finds out I beat Malfoy senseless, maybe even seriously hurt him, she'd expel me from Hogwarts for sure. I lay my head in my arms hoping that Draco was all right. My bruised cheek stung as a tear trailed down to my chin. I didn't bother wiping it away. I've never intentionally hurt anyone before. I didn't even really want to hurt Malfoy. Yeah, he's annoying and the thought of knocking some sense into him had crossed my mind on several occasions. He may of even deserved what I did to him. Still, I couldn't bare thinking of Draco lying in pain on the cold stone floor where I had left him. What had he said to me after he kissed me? That I never gave him a chance? Ever since I came to Hogwarts I've tried to be nice to the Slytherin, right? Draco's the one who hated me first, right?



"What have I done?" I whispered.


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