I kissed a boy (drarry)

Chapter 24: Draco's POV

Draco held his smirk as best as he could as he walked away from Harry, but his initial smugness fell away the moment Harry was out of his sight. He ran an anxious hand around his lower neck, and chest, acknowledging that several love bites littered the skin there. His stomach twisted with guilt and anger when he remembered the blurred night he had been pushed into the idea of sleeping with William Sorwell. A group of Slytherins were sneaking out to drink on the night he had almost cried himself to sleep, and, thinking he had absolutely nothing to lose, Draco accepted their offer to tag along. He could remember being passed more, and more shots, until his mind was blissfully blank.

He knew that he was drunk, and stupid, and that he didn't know what he saying, or doing, and then he could vaguely remember waking up in a bed that wasn't his. At first - of course - he felt hungover and dirty - as if someone had used his body, but then, as he slipped out of William's bed, and scrubbed himself thoroughly in the showers, he thought that it could be not so bad - maybe even good. Draco saw the whole situation as a distraction from Harry. Silly idea, he thought bitterly, as he stalked the dark, dimly illuminated, hallways. Harry hasn't left his mind since they shared their first kiss, and he'd be playing the fool if he said that he wasn't always thinking about him, even now, when he made it seem like he had 'gotten over him'.

It had taken every shred of self-control to not call back- "Yeah I will," when Harry claimed that Draco would miss him, and another not to immediately shove William away when he continuously disregarded basic personal space, and wouldn't stop touching the blond's arm. All he wanted to do was openly date Harry, and not be afraid to have the Boy who Lived as his boyfriend. He wanted to do what normal couples did - give each other presents and stolen kisses, walk hand-in-hand in the hallways, be able to proudly show off their partner, and look at them as if there was no brighter light in the entire world. He wanted to whisper into the clear sky, every moonlit night, that he had love who loved him back, and his name is Harry Potter.

But he couldn't. He would have to watch from afar, as Harry fell in love with another, and forgot that he ever had someone who fell for him in fourth year, and only accepted the very thought in sixth. There was nothing Draco didn't miss about Harry, and now, they couldn't even be friends. They couldn't even be close. He had been walking through the completely empty and deserted hallway for so long now, daydreaming and reminiscing, that he hadn't noticed that the scene behind the dusty glass windows showed a sky completely filled with blinking stars. Obviously, Draco knew what stars looked like, and he'd witnessed a night like this one before, but it all seemed different, in a way.

The stars seemed to sparkle more invitingly, as if they were asking for a lively soul with a heart rife with love and joy to dance in the warm midnight air with them, to be as happy as they were. Draco scowled at the scene before him.

Well, they'd have to find someone else.

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I miss you.

The words seemed to fall off the page, smudged and disoriented, as Draco wrote them again and again, until they completely overlapped each other, becoming a congealed mess of rubbed ink. He was spoiling the back page of his only decent potions book, but the words on that page were unimportant, and smeared with ink, and at the very back of Draco's mind. He looked up, watching as Harry, his head bent low, tried hard not to laugh at something Ron said, and in the process of doing so, spilled half of his inkwell onto his shaking arm. Ron pursed his lips tightly, his face going red, and Harry snorted with laughter, earning a glare from the Professor.
Hermione gave them both fond, exasperated looks.

Harry shot the Professor an apologetic grin, rubbing his cheek, apparently forgetting about the ink on his hands. There was now a dark smear of ink on the side of his face, running just below his newly dull green eyes. Hermione sniggered, and Harry scowled, waving his wand in front of his face, the stain disappearing almost instantly. Draco glanced back over to the blurred letters standing out amongst the white of the paper, and scribbled over them, leaving little tears and rips in the already blackened page. He now had nothing left to live for because of one entitled man, and someone was going to have to pay for that. And if Draco ever saw that someone, well, that would be an unfortunate day for him.

The blond allowed himself a small smile as he watched Harry doodle on his parchment with one hand, his dark, wild hair hanging over his face like a curtain, and attempt to swat away a grey storm cloud with the other, which was hovering over his head. Hermione, who had used the wrong spell to practice with, gave Harry an apologetic look, siphoning the cloud away with the tip of her wand. The bell rang, and people began eagerly packing away their stuff, desperate not to miss a moment of their free period, and Draco tipped his books into his bag, staring resolutely at the front cover of - An Advanced Guide to Potions - avoiding Harry's eye, for the dark haired boy was giving him an unreadable look.

As Harry stepped into the hallway, the pile of heavier books he was carrying fell to the floor, making a dull thudding noise. Ron and Hermione made to scoop the books up, but Harry motioned that it was ok for them to leave, and they reluctantly disappeared. Draco hesitated for a few seconds, unsure of what to do, as Harry began to pick up his textbooks. Before he knew what he was doing though, the blond was already crouched in front of him, reaching for a Transfiguration textbook. Harry snatched the book away, narrowing his dull green eyes.  "Clear off, Malfoy. Why don't you leave me alone, and help William with his books instead? Bet you'd love to do that." He swept the remainder of his things into his arms, clutching them against his chest.

He pushed past Draco, disappearing down the hallway, and leaving the blond to stare at the spot he vanished at long after he left, wondering whether the tears in Harry's eyes, or the muffled sob he had heard when he hurried past him, were real.

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-R🧚