Behind Closed Doors


I

"Good morning," I drawl, smiling down at him. My smile is returned, his beautiful mouth stretching into a perfect grin. I could never look like that when I smile. My face isn't right for it, such emotions not befitting a Malfoy. Someone once said I look like I've been crafted from marble and the meerest hint of a genuine smile would force my face to crack and fall apart. This, I'd proved wrong but my smile still looks fallacious; Predatory, not pure like Harry's. "I'm sorry I woke you. It's early, classes don't start for another two hours. You can carry on sleeping."
"With you looking like that? Fat chance." He lifts himself up on one elbow, offering those perfect, pink lips to me like a sacrifice. I press my mouth against his, the kiss flooding my senses as it increases in intensity. We pull apart and I blush lightly. I always feel guilty when we kiss, like I'm sullying him somehow. Like something so perfect was never meant be touched by the likes of me. "It's so adorable how you do that."
"I'm not adorable. I'm a Slytherin; We don't do adorable," I say, indignantly. He laughs softly at my tone and my comment.
"Well, I think it's adorable regardless of whether you acknowledge it or not." He raises his hand and strokes the blushes away. "You're so beautiful." He so often says it but I can never see it. I am not beautiful. He is my only definition of beauty; Dark hair, perfectly clear green eyes, sun-kissed skin and expressive features. I am none of these things, a creature made up solely of sharp, white angles. There is nothing beautiful or remarkable about me.
"You're not wearing your glasses, Harry. I can't take that comment too seriously." He frowns at me but doesn't push the issue. We've covered it many times and my mind will not be changed. We both fall silent, content just to be next to each other. The mornings we spend together are always the best times. Only when we're alone in Harry's bed, protected by wards and spells, can we really feel nothing else matters. Here there are no reputations to be upheld. No need for barbed words, petty comments spat to keep a dead rivalry looking fresh. Here we are true to ourselves.


II

Things hadn't always been like this. Once, insults were thrown easily between us. Our contempt for one another was know school-wide, by pupils and teachers alike. Meetings in the hallway inevitabley ended in violence, physical or verbal. I admit, at first I really did hate him. I felt nothing but disdain, deep-rooted and all-consuming. It ran through my veins and coloured my every word. I couldn't even stand to look at him. Harry Potter, the boy who represented everything I wasn't. He succeeded wherever I failed, found love where I only found hatred, grew up while I only grew more vicious. Our scuffles in the hallways ceased and when we passed, he barely even looked at me. I couldn't stand it, it outraged me that Potter could act as though he were above all this, above me! I continued to throw childish insults. He continued to avoid my harsh stares, driving me madder and madder. I needed his attention, craved it. All my kicking and screaming was redundant without his backlash. I was defined completely by our rivalry.


III

One morning, after a particularly tiresome Potions lesson, I couldn't control it anymore. I waited until he was alone before I spoke. Now I can't believe how easily the words escaped my lips. He walked by me, his gaze not even drifting over me for a second. To him, I wasn't even there. A non-entity. I'd change that.
"Your mother was an idiot, Potter." That stopped him in his tracks. I smirked, congratulating myself on finally affecting him. He turned on his heels and stared at me.
"What did you say, Malfoy?" His speech was slow and precise.
"You heard me. What kind of moron would give up her life to save a worm like you?" I was beginning to wish other people were here to watch this. To finally see the calm, collected Potter blow his top at last. They could witness my triumph over him as I forced him to pay attention to me. His eyes started to blaze with the anger I remembered from our previous run-ins but nothing more was happening yet. He breathed steadily in and out.
"Shut up." It was starting.
"I suppose she did something right though. Ridding the world of a filthy mudblood like herself. It still doesn't quite make up for creating a brat like you though." That had to get him. I was an expert in provoking him, had spent years perfecting the art. I could feel it coming.
"Whatever, Malfoy," he muttered, turning away. My entire chest felt like it was caving in as I realised I had no power over him. Before I knew it, I was diving at him, scratching and punching.
"WHY WON'T YOU HIT ME? WHY DON'T YOU REACT ANYMORE?" I was screaming like a banshee, lashing out over and over. He was taller and broader than I was and appeared completely unfazed by my attack.
"Why should I, Malfoy? What good does it bring? I don't want to argue anymore," he said, calmly. I continued my assault, desperately clawing at him.
"JUST.. LOOK AT ME POTTER.. I JUST NEED THAT.. I NEED YOU TO.. I CAN'T.. I NEED.." My speech was muddled by both the sudden jolt of energy I was experiencing and my emotions. Before I knew it, I was crying. "I just need this, Potter.. I'm not me without.. Without this.. Without you.. I just wanted.. To hit me, I need you to hit me. I need it."
"You don't need my hate, Draco. That's plain enough to see," he whispered, grabbing my flailing arms.
"Hit me.. Please. I need to feel it. I need to feel you," I begged despite myself.
"I already said, you don't need me to hurt you. You.." He trailed off, leaving me to finish his sentence.
"I just need you!" I blurted out before I could stop myself.
"That was all you had to say," he said lightly. Before I knew what was happening, our lips collided and my mind exploded. What was I doing? I hated him. I hated him!
But part of me knew I didn't mean that. I hadn't for a long time. This was what I craved. I didn't need him to notice me for being a cruel bastard. I needed him to notice me and want me like I wanted him. But none of that mattered now my Harry was kissing me. Conflicting emotions were just a shadow in my past. I felt like exploding into a thousand pieces. After what seemed like an age, he pulled back from me. We were both gasping for air and I lazily opened my eyes.
"How did you know?" I whispered, "I never told.."
"I knew. Your eyes betrayed you. I saw how they changed. I just needed you to say it yourself, to confirm what I already knew."


IV

And he was right. My feelings had changed, no matter how much I tried to stop them. As he stopped fighting back, I started to mull over what could become of us. I saw him in a new light and it disturbed me, shook me to the core. I told myself over and over that I hated him. It became my mantra; The only thing that kept me sane when I saw him around Hogwarts. My father's voice rang through my head, telling me these feelings I had were filthy and wrong and made worse tenfold by the fact they were directed at Potter. I punished myself accordingly, denying myself the few pleasures in my life to try and make myself stop feeling this way. Even then, I knew what would really do it. I had to make Harry hate me like he had before, to push me away and teach me the affections I felt for him were idiotic. The more he maintained his 'no confrontations' policy, the worse I felt. I knew I had to do something to provoke him, make him show just a shred of his contempt and to free me, let me be normal again.


V

Now, I look back and realise how stupid I was. How I nearly spoilt what has become the best thing in my life. I have a perfect angel to wake up to now. I can't believe I nearly threw that away.
The rest of the school just sees Malfoy and Potter at each other's throats again. We thought going back to how things used to be was the best cover up, not wishing anyone to learn our secret. It would only give them the chance to ruin things. As things are, with our public scuffles and biting comments, people feel things are back to normal, the way they should be. Little do they know how much everyhing has changed. There is no hatred between us behind closed doors. Our mouths know only words of love.

I wouldn't change a thing.



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