CHAPTER 7 - DETENTION

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Harry didn't think he was going to wake up feeling worse than when he used to spend Christmas at the Dursleys. He remembered it easily, watching Dudley open more presents than their classmates received combined, and Harry would sometimes not get anything at all, or, at best, a pencil. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia always made him watch, too. Only after Dudley had opened everything, and Harry finished serving Christmas dinner, was he finally allowed to go to his cupboard, hungry and emotionally drained.

And he wasn't sure if the burn in his throat was worse than it or just equal.

It shouldn't have been, it was just Malfoy; it was just a stupid crush. But it brought Harry some of his worst memories, and he felt a feeling he hadn't had in quite a while: wanting something so bad, and someone taking it from you because you're not good enough for it.

Just like on Christmas with the Dursleys, when Harry would search the names on the tags, all saying Dudley, and maybe, just maybe, there was one present that had his name on it, but there never was. And Harry knew that every year, but still he got his hopes up over and over again.

Harry wanted love. He was full of it. It was in his bones. And Malfoy was pretty damn convincing at being something that Harry wanted. Because Malfoy researched him. It was supposed to be that way.

And Harry fell for it.

"Mate, you okay?" Ron said. "Your nose looks terrible. Maybe you should go to the Hospital Wing."

"I will before detention tomorrow. Just how I wanted to spend Boxing Day."

"That sucks."

"Yeah. It does."

Thankfully, he received presents from Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, Mrs. Weasley, and Sirius, and he could spend most of the day with Ron and Hermione in the Common Room. Though, Harry refused to go to the Great Hall by chance of running into Malfoy and he checked his Marauder's Map before going to the Hospital Wing. Malfoy remained in his Common Room, probably telling everyone in Slytherin about his victory.

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Draco wasn't. Not even close.

It was hard enough confessing the situation to Blaise. They sat in the back of the Common Room, and Draco had his head in his hands.

"Well, you tried."

"What kind of Hufflepuff phrase is that? I failed. He caught me. I lost to him. Again."

Blaise sat back. "Maybe you should stop trying to defeat him. Is he really that big of a part of your life or have you made him that way?"

"Shut up, Blaise."

Draco stayed in his room the entire day, eager to get detention over with so he could stop thinking about Potter. He'd just ignore him and go back to living his life, even if it felt impossible. After tomorrow, he was free to be as he wanted again.

He could bully anyone and everyone at his own will.

And he would never have to laugh again.

Draco couldn't control the emotions he felt when that thought crossed his head. He should've been glad he wouldn't be forced to do so, but instead a pit formed in his stomach and his throat tightened. He wouldn't admit he felt a sting in the back of his eye.

He'd never get to smile again if life went back to the way it was before Potter.

And then he grew bitter.

He wished Potter had never made him laugh so he wouldn't have known the feeling of it, and therefore, would never miss it.

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