Unknown. Impossible. Forbidden.

Chapter 1: Enemies

Warnings : This book contains suicide attempts, self-harm, abuse, strong language, bullying, LGBTQ+ themes, and extreme mature themes. You have been warned so if this offends you in any way, feel free to stop reading here. Don't read on if you're going to comment how this offended you, because you HAVE been warned now.

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A/N=Author's note!

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"Piss off." Draco sneered angrily, pushing past Vincent Crabbe and Greggory Goyle. The blonde walked swiftly into the Slytherin Common Room and made a beeline for his room.

"What happened to him?" Crabbe asked in his thick, dense voice.

"He's in a piss poor mood." Goyle grumbled at his friend, pulling him back from the entree to Draco's room.

The blonde slammed the door and flopped on his bed, about to breakdown before he realized that Crabbe and Goyle were most-likely listening in. They were a couple of nosey gits, those two. He whipped out his wand and placed a silencing charm over the room, and broke down, in dry sobs.

He was dealing with the stress of Hogwart's classes, stress at home and, well, Draco and the infamous Harry Potter had engaged in another fight. It had all started when the darker of the two tripped a young Slytherin in the hall. Accidentally, of course, but Draco didn't know that at the time and took it personally.

"What the bloody hell was that for?!" Draco had asked through gritted teeth.

"Get out of my face, Malfoy. It was an accident!" Harry shoved him away before bending over next to the stunned first year, who was still residing on the ground, "Here." He offered a hand to the boy, who took it, hesitantly.

Yanking the first year up, and helping pick up the child's books, Potter scowled at a now blushing Draco.

His blush was deep because he had never seen Harry help up a child from his rivalries house, let alone a first-year. It wasn't like this hadn't happened before. Young Slytherins got tripped a lot.

Harry's scowl flickered into confusion as Draco stared at him, "What are you looking at, Malfoy?"

Draco recomposed himself and put on a sneer, "Your ugly face, Putty-Putter."

He turned on heel and stalked away from Harry and the crowd of watching students and ghosts, being followed by Crabbe and Goyal.

'You will never know how I truly feel about you, will you?' Draco wondered, his head still buried in his pillow.

This reminded him of an old memory he hadn't thought about in a while.

It was the second-year at age 12 after Pansy Parkinson had kissed him, when Draco realized he wasn't attracted to girls. It was by his third-year at age 13 when he had heard that Harry had been attacked on the train to Hogwarts by a dementor when his feelings for his enemy set it.

"Oi! Potter! Is it true you fainted?" Malfoy whispered from across the Slytherin table to Harry. It's was when he saw the distaste on the Gryffindor's face when Draco masked his concern by adding a snarky, "You actually fainted?"

But Draco was concerned. What if Potter had been hurt? Worse, what if he had died? Surely he wouldn't be invited to the funeral so he couldn't pay his respects... this hurt Draco. It hurt to think about the Gryffindor in distress. The blonde harbored certain feelings toward the Boy Who Lived. Certain feelings that according to the Pure-Blooded community, was practically an abomination.