Draco

Title: Draco
Author: Bernsteinnixe
Lj: http://www.livejournal.com/users/harryndraco
Rating: R for now
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: After Voldemort’s demise, Harry remembers Draco and wonders what had become of him.

Discaimer: I don’t own any of it. No money made.

A/N: Pretty short, but it’s just what came to mind. I’m not sure yet where I want to go with this…

Draco.

That name has tormented me constantly since the first time I laid eyes on him seven years ago. From the moment I saw him, I loved him; as soon as he spoke, I despised him.

It didn’t make any sense at all. I kept asking myself, how is it possible to be in love with someone you loathe with every fiber of your being? Yet no matter how hard I tried to deny it, that was exactly how I felt about Draco. And I hated myself for it. I hated myself for loving the prick whose every word and deed was meant to hurt me, or my friends. He was worthless, pathetic, despicable—and oh how I pined for him.

He made my blood simmer with need and lust. It wasn’t hate-sex I wanted; I would have understood that. What I wanted was to spend entire nights in between those pale legs, eliciting moans and whimpers from those luscious lips. I wanted to make love to him. But, most of all, I wanted to replace that nasty sneer with a genuine smile, and have him look at me with love, not contempt.

It felt so wrong, to have these feelings towards my enemy. He had done so many wrongs; yet I never truly believed that he was evil. I can’t explain it; it was just something about the look in his eyes whenever I put him down—he looked hurt. The Malfoy we all thought we knew would never be bothered by what I thought of him. That’s what led me to believe that he was never truly being himself. Or maybe that’s just what I wanted to believe, because I loved him. I would never know for sure until that night when he found himself incapable of killing Dumbledore. That night I learned that I did not love a monster, only a confused boy, raised by Death Eaters and forced into a life he wanted no part of.

I must admit, I didn’t think about him much at the time. I was too overwhelmed by the tragedy of the situation to worry about him. After all, he did have a part in Dumbledore’s death. But as time went by I began to worry. Was he punished for not fulfilling his duty? Killed even? If he was still alive, I was certain he was terrified and forced into committing more evil deeds. It wasn’t a happy thought, to say the least.

Weeks and months passed without any news of his existence, and I grew increasingly apprehensive. I constantly hoped that somewhere along the way to defeating Voldemort—if that was to be the outcome—I would find him, and save him yet. But that was not the way of things. Voldemort is gone now and still I have not learned of Draco’s fate.

No one knows what happened to him, or his family. Rumors abound, but they all vary and none seem reliable. I suppose he is dead, and the realization brings stinging tears to my eyes. Damn him! Why hadn’t he come to Dumbledore sooner and asked for help? He would have received it— and I would have done everything in my power to protect him as well had I known the truth. It wasn’t as though I was not already carrying the weight of the entire wizarding world on my shoulders.

Whenever I think about it, I can barely breathe. I feel as if it were partly my fault. Maybe if I had taken his hand first year when he offered it, I could have helped him, could have persuaded him to join our side. If only he had known that someone cared for him, that he wasn’t alone, maybe….

But it’s too late now. All I can do now is hang my head and let the tears fall.

Tbc