Bloody Kisses

________________________________________________________



Author's Note:

Hi kiddies :] I wrote this little fic years ago, had my computer crash, and lost the disc it was saved on until recently. I've been told it's a slightly dark story. Honestly, I consider this some of my more 'happy-go-lucky' writing. *shrugs* Also, please note I am not a dictionary nor an English major (wish I was both :D ). I write to the best of my abilities. There might be some grammar and spelling errors here and there but I promise it's not unreadable by any means. Leave a comment if you see anything really out of place and I'll gladly fix it. On a side note... There's a good deal of artwork that accompanies this story lying around somewhere. I'll post them eventually.


On with the fic....


________________________________________________________



Draco Malfoy



For once in my life, this was something that I, Draco Malfoy, had absolutely no control over. Something was growing deep inside of me. Something I never wanted, never even considered until now. I'm beginning to realize it was here all along. Ever since I'd met him years ago, this feeling inside has been yearning for the day I finally gave in to my own desires. It's horrible. What's worse is, if I unleash these emotions it will be the end of me, of everything that ever was Draco Malfoy. My personality, my reputation, my sense of character, all gone. I've tried so hard to ignore these feelings making me think such obscene, foolish thoughts, but I'm finding myself giving in. My world is falling down and there is only one thing I can do to save myself. I'm down to my last resort. It seems that my hate for a certain Gryffindor has developed into a consuming desire. Being the Malfoy that I am, I always get what I want. This particular situation being no different.



"Damn him to hell!", I muttered as I rapped at the wooden table top with the end of my wand.



Glancing up across the classroom, I glared at the very person who has made me a shadow of my former self. Damn him. Potion's class was usually my favorite. Professor Severus Snape had a certain liking for us Slytherins, mainly because he's our House leader. The professor always let myself and my friends taunt our classmates without so much as a glance. Good man, that Severus Snape. He especially disliked the three assholes of Gryffindor: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley. It seems we have something in common, myself and the Professor. Although, as of late, the class has been a mixture of things in my mind. I spend my entire day anticipating Potions. Yet, once I'm actually in the classroom, I find myself loathing it for one particular, haunting reason.



A set of brilliant emerald eyes caught me off guard as they stared, somewhat confused, back at me from a seat across the room. I sighed and looked away, keeping my gaze locked on the oak table before me and rolling my wand back and forth across the table's surface as a distraction. Somewhere in the background of my thoughts, Professor Snape lectured endlessly about a potion I had already mastered. My mind was elsewhere, far from Snape and potions and.... the wand rolling across my desk. I stole another peek at the boy across the room.



"Damn him, he's still a sexy prat...," The words came out more as a dreamy sigh than actual words, far too low for anyone but myself to hear.



Why, of all people, did it have to be him? Why not any Slytherin or even a Ravenclaw at the least? Hell, why not a girl? Was that so much to ask for? Of all the bloody wizards and witches at Hogwarts, it had to be that idiotic Gryffindor boy. After winning over everyone in the magic world, 'The Boy Who Lived' had finally got to me. Ugh, I'm beginning to make myself ill just thinking about this.



Out of frustration and as a sad attempt to divert my mind from any continued thoughts of Harry Potter, I kicked the nearest person my foot could find underneath the table. Crabbe yelped, glaring over at me.



"Ow!" He hissed, rubbing his sore ankle, "What'd ya do that for, Draco?"



I shrugged, and commenced the sport of rolling my wand aimlessly around the table top, "Because I can."



Crabbe went back to picking at an ugly scab on his elbow, grumbling something under his breath that would most likely of gained him another swift kick to the shins. Why must I be surrounded by morons? I picked up my wand and reclined back in the chair to stretch my legs. Only ten more minutes left of class. Why does it feel as though I've been trapped in this musty dungeon for days?




Harry Potter




With yet another drawn-out sigh, I leaned my head on my hand and shifted restlessly in the seat. I really hate Potions Class. Professor Snape can't go five minutes without scolding me for something I did or didn't do. It's amazing how many points I lose for Gryffindor in just one class. To top that off, Gryffindor had to share the class with Slytherin meaning I spent most of my time trying to ignore Draco Malfoy's endless barrage of taunts. Potions always seemed so much longer than all of my classes combined.



I noticed three fellow Gryffindors, including my friend Neville Longbottom, struggling to stay awake in the back of the room. I took their cue and yawned. Just as my head began to droop lower and lower towards the inviting table top, I felt a tingly sensation crawling up my spine, the familiar feeling of being watched. I lifted my head and glanced back over my shoulder again. Who's watching me? Much to my surprise and relief, it wasn't Professor Snape. For now Snape was pacing on the opposite side of the classroom. He had his nose buried in a book as he droned on and on about something... potions related, this being why the class was comatose. Hermione sat beside me taking notes without looking the least bit disinterested in Snape's lecture. Ron, however, sat with his head bowed as he found a sudden interest in the floor. As I glanced over at him, his head nodded down and he shot up again, struggling to stay awake. Most everyone in the room resembled Ron, nodding off in their chairs. Most everyone, that is, except Draco Malfoy.



Malfoy sat slumped in his chair, a mis-hap in his usually perfect snobbish posture. His icy blue eyes were staring directly at me. I couldn't help but notice the thoughtful, strangely concerned look on his pale features. It was a bit odd seeing Draco without the usual 'I'm better than thou' smirk on his face. Perhaps I caught him off guard? Then why was he still staring like that? Draco returned my stare without so much as a blink for what seemed like an eternity, sending a pronounced chill trickling down my spine. Suddenly, with a heavy sigh, the blond boy turned his attention down to his table where he began rolling his wand back and forth across the aged wood. I watched him for a moment longer before turning back to my own desk. Why was Malfoy looking at me like that? Was he plotting something? Knowing him I'd say yes but something made me think otherwise. He seemed to be deep in thought, staring at me.... strange. I'd better keep an eye out just in case.




Draco Malfoy



The sound of a familiar voice snatched me from my miserable wand-rolling. Potter, now sitting up in his chair, was reciting the formula to a potion for Professor Snape. I found my eyes locked on the boy again, entranced by the sound of his voice. Without looking around, I knew that most of the girls in the class were doing the same as I. Swoon away ladies, I thought humbly to myself, but soon the lad would be mine. Somehow... Professor Snape scolded Potter for being ridiculously wrong and moved to the next student. Granger shook her head in disappointment at Potter. He just folded his arms on the table and laid his head down, unaffected by Snape. The Weasley boy leaned over and nudged Potter, whispering something in his ear. Potter looked up, catching me gawking at him once again. That little Weasel ought to learn how to keep his nose in his own business.



Potter narrowed his eyebrows as he scowled and mouthed 'What' across the room to me.



A little too excited I had gained Mr. Famous's full attention, I grinned back at the wonderfully messy creature. What should I say? I love you? I adore you? I want you?



After some deliberation, I mouthed back 'Fuck you, Potter.'



Potter rolled his eyes and the Weasel leaned over again, whispering something that made them both snicker. I clenched my fists, glaring at the pair. If only Potter knew just how much I had meant that. He wouldn't be rolling his eyes at me then, no sir. He always shrugs me off like that, as if I didn't really matter. Well, Harry Potter had another thing coming. One day, he'll realize he needs me. He'll realize how, together, we could achieve ultimate power, two of the greatest wizards the magic world has yet to see combining our strengths. Harry and I would be unstoppable. Not to mention all the great sex...



"Oh Merlin...," I clapped my hand to my forehead.



What the hell is wrong with me? This is awful. I shouldn't be thinking this way, not about Potter. Sure I had always wanted to be friends with him but... this? It was terrible... but I found myself wondering what he would do if I actually confessed my desire for him? Would he be pleased? He doesn't seem too fond of me or is that just the Weasley's influence? You know, I bet deep down Harry actually wants me, maybe more than I want him. After all, I am fairly irresistible. If it weren't for that red-headed Weasley devil and his brainiac mudblood girl, the famed Harry Potter and I would have been great friends, possibly more. No, no, not more! Nothing more than just friends! What's happening to me? I can't stop thinking about him.




Harry Potter




After Professor Snape had attempted to embarrass me again in front of the class, I found it best to just lie my head down and play dead. After all, in this class period alone I had lost fifty points for Gryffindor, not that any of the lost points were lost for any good reason. No sooner had I closed my eyes, Ron was nudging me again.



I peered an eye out at him from the cozy nest I had made in my arms, “What now?"



"Something's up with Malfoy," Ron's eyes were fixated on the blonde across the room, "He's been staring at you for like ten minutes! It's beginning to creep me out."



I sat up, finding myself captured in Draco's deadlock stare once again. He had the same expression on his face as before, only this time he seemed pissed.



Feeling a little annoyed, I mouthed 'What across the room to him. What do you want from me? What is it that makes you bother me as if your life depends on my suffering? What are you plotting now, you angry little stuck up brat?



My 'What' response only made Draco's lips curl into a strangely satisfied grin which stayed put for much too long. I was about to ask 'What' again, feeling all too uncomfortable from his continued attention when Draco mouthed back what appeared to be 'Fuck You, Potter.'



I rolled my eyes, just about sick of the Slytherin's taunting. So that's all he had to say after staring at me the entire class? What a weirdo.



"Maybe he's got the hots for you," Ron whispered. He cleared his throat and attempted a horrible Draco Malfoy impression. "Oh, that Potter!" Ron sighed, leaning on my shoulder as he batted his eyelashes up at me, "He's ever so dreamy!"



"Shuddup Ron," I snickered, pushing him off me.



"Can't you two just grow up?" Hermione scolded us, going back to her note taking.



Ron stuck his tongue out at her, leaning his head on his hand and watching Malfoy suspiciously. I laid my own head back down across my arms to continue my hiding from Snape's wraith. Only, I found my mind drifting off to wonder if Draco would every stop bothering me. Why does he hate me so much, anyhow? I've never done a thing to that boy. Though, just me existing makes him mad enough, I suppose.



________________________________________________________