Decisions

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone. I just use them for my own evil purposes. JK Rowling is the real creative genius here.

"Decisions"

Goddammit, Malfoy. I fucking hate you.

Just what the hell did you think you were doing when you put my name on that piece of paper? Why should I have to make this decision, huh? Did I ever do anything that horrible to you? Can you give me one good reason? Of course you can't; you're comatose. And I'm the one you've handed the plug to. I'm the one who gets the honor of deciding whether you live or die. Fuck you.

We were sworn enemies for six long years. We shared everything during that time period. Snarls, sneers, quidditch games, death threats, detentions, potions class (in which you always succeeded), you name it. We were rivals in everything. Until seventh year...

Something strange and wonderful happened then that I am sure I will never forget so long as I draw breath. I had no idea you were on our side, not a damn clue. And then one day you showed up for an Order meeting, and I could've dropped dead. There you were in all your "Oh look at me, I'm a Malfoy" glory, all buddy-buddy with Snape as you two were now spying on the Death Eaters together. Lovely, that thought. And Dumbledore was so proud of you for "choosing to follow the correct path". To say I was annoyed is an understatement.

After the meeting ended you caught up with me. "Potter" you called. I turned to face you, preparing to defend myself. Instead, I suddenly found myself bombarded with words of apology and regret. "Potter, I know we've both been, well, jerks for the past six years. You more than I, but even so... (Still the proud Malfoy; old habits do die hard, I guess) I would like to extend the olive branch, so to speak, now that we're on the same side and all, and invite you to dine with me tomorrow evening as a sort of 'making up for lost time' event." And what could I say to that? Of course I accepted, and we actually enjoyed a rather nice dinner together the next evening. But friendship wasn't the only relationship fate had in store.

You know, I had always suspected you of swinging the other way. (No wonder you didn't pay poor Pansy much attention.) Though I really didn't have much room to talk; I'm a bi-boy myself. Still. Didn't you have a family name to uphold, or something superficial like that? Wouldn't your dear old dad be pleased if he got to sit in his prison cell thinking about the fact that not only was his sole heir a flaming fairy, but a flaming fairy who spent his time fluttering about the bloody Boy-Who-Lived? My, the tangled webs we weave...

And while we're on the subject, you were a brilliant shag. You know that. Or knew that. Believe me, I was blessed to have had someone with your talent - the very least I got out of our little liasons was the experience I could share with future mates. But, just you remember this Draco Malfoy - I was the only one, the *only one*, who could make you come without touching you. You said so yourself. But then, I suppose we made better fuck buddies than live-ins. That was an experience. I had more fistfights with you, screamed more obscenities at you in our apartment than I ever did at school. Finally one evening, after your fist fractured my nose, you threw my bags out into the rain, and told me to fuck myself. How kind. Your family was always known for its generosity.

But I moved on. Heh. Not really. Oh, I found other lovers, men and women, but I never forgot about you. Never. I never forgot your snow-white hair, nor your pallid, silky skin. I never forgot the way the coldness of your steel-gray eyes melted away when I kissed some color into your lips. I never forgot that you liked to be touched just so behind your knees, and I never ever forgot the way you called my name as you spilled yourself onto my lips. You always had the control.

And so, here we are. And how ironic that we should meet again like this, now that I have the control, now that I have the power to end your very life. What say you? Heh, not a whole damn lot. The doctor called me this evening, at 7:14 precisely. Said you had listed me as the one to call in case something like this should happen. And here I am, Drakey. Still in shock and denial and every other goddamn thing a person goes through when asked to make a decision like this. Is this what you meant to happen, Malfoy? Is this your sick version of revenge you Slytherins are so well-known for? I hate you for it, Draco Malfoy!

I could take my own cruel revenge, you know. Oh yes, I could make you suffer as I have and still do. Word is, there's no way you're coming out of that coma. I could leave you hooked up to that machine for life. Would you like that? To be pitied and derided the rest of your unconsious life? Ironic, for a Malfoy to be given the label "Pitiful".

But, no. I won't, and I can't. I could never subject you to that, even if you deserved it. *sigh* No, Draco, I'm better than that. And for as much as I hate you, there is as much love to fill my heart. That is why I would never let you be derided, that is why I'd never allow you to be pitied, as I know you'd detest. That is why, though I cannot bear the sight of you, I will always cherish the good memories we made. That is why, even now as I kiss you softly one last time, my own hand reaches for the plug...