"I have something to tell you today,
So please just listen to what I have to say.
This is so very hard,
Like walking on shards.
Yes, I'm afraid,
But my courage is finally made.
It'll take a little while,
But for you, I'd walk a mile.
The truth is, I love you;
Will you love me, too?
I've waited forever,
For I want you as my lover.
It was love at first sight,
Couldn't be measured by any height.
You are my one and only,
Without you, my life is lonely.
You are a flying angel with beautiful wings,
When I see you, my heart sings.
Without you, I don't think I could live,
But love is all that I can give.
Your love is a gift from heaven,
Your heart is my haven.
All I want is you,
But now I feel like a fool,
Because you have a girlfriend,
But the signal you send,
Leaves me so very clueless,
It's making me so restless.
So, I wish you were mine,
if not, that's fine.
No, wait, no, no it's not,
You'd never believe how hard I fought,
Just for your attention,
Is what I'd like to mention.
You hold the key to my heart,
And I've loved you from the very start."
Yea, that's what I'd say,
Maybe I'll get the courage to tell you someday.
- Carmen
September the 5th found Draco Malfoy hunched over a stack of parchment in his room on the Eighth year tower.
If there had been anyone standing over his shoulder in that moment, they would have witnessed the rare sight of a Malfoy breaking down.
Draco was shaking, his shoulders hunched as they trembled with the strength of his suppressed sobs. He had cast a permanent Silencio on his door, but he still wasn't able to cry feely. If his father's beatings had taught him something, it was that Malfoys weren't weak, Malfoys didn't cry.
So Draco's head was lowered, not willing to let the room witness his weakness, and sat there shaking silently, tears flowing steadily down his face.
Suddenly, he moved, and grabbed his wand. He flicked it in front of his face, making all of the bruises around his eyes and cuts scattered across his cheeks fade. He knew they weren't really gone, but it would have to do for now. The most important thing was that no one saw his flaws.
He dried his tears, and grabbed his quill.
Shuffling around in his chair, he inked the pen and pulled a piece of parchment close to him.
The tip of the quill stood against the empty parchment, as Draco's hand trembled. Was he really doing this?
Yes, Draco told himself. You have to. You have no one left to talk to, you'll explode someday.
So he wrote.
His first words appeared on the page before he could record what he had written. Reading over it, he wasn't surprised.
Perhaps disappointed, but somewhere in him, he had always known that it was unavoidable.
So, under the words, "Dear Potter", he started writing.
-
Draco stood on the side of the dark hallway.
He was on his way to Potions with the Gryffindors when he heard the three familiar voices of the trio. He hurried to the darkness in the hallway, under the painting of a grey haired woman with a warm smile.
He hadn't come across the trio since the start of school, he had been avoiding them as much as he could, only showing up for classes a minute before it started, to steer clear of any conversation he didn't really wish to be in. Today though, he had wanted to speak to Slughorn about their essay that he hadn't quite managed to finish in between his nightmares and letters. Of course, now, he wouldn't be able to, he thought as he watched the trio walk past him, Potter flanked by Granger and Weasley.
Oh well, I'll just get detention.
Draco looked at the three Gryffindors. Weasley was telling something, his arms flailing about as he spoke loudly. Granger, on the other side of Potter, was giggling, the arm that wasn't looped around Potter's was lifted so that her hand was covering her smile. Her eyes were shining with obvious love for the redhead. They both turned to Potter, looking at him, their mirth almost gone, concern filling their eyes as they watched the brunette's head facing the ground as his shoulders slumped as he waled. Noticing the attention he was having, he suddenly straightened and forced a smile to his two best friends.
Draco scoffed.
Did they really believe he was not faking it?
Apparently, they did.
Draco wanted to shout as the two teenagers went back to their conversation and left Harry to slump his shoulders again, that smile still on his face.
Those emerald eyes shone in the darkness of the hallway, looking around as if asking, 'Is anyone listening?' 'Does anyone see that I am hurting?'
That smile faltered in the absence of attention, a smile that said all of the things the voice couldn't.
Those shoulders slumped under the weight of the expectations and the lies hidden beneath.
And Draco wanted to go and shake the desperation off of the boy, telling him all of the good things that were in the world, the sun, the snow, friends, family. All of the things that, even if Draco himself couldn't have, Potter certainly could.
After all, if he didn't deserve them, then who did?
But the trio had already walked past and disappeared through the door to the Potions lab.
Draco looked at his watch and swore under his breath. He broke into a sprint as the painting over his head tutted at his language.
-
As soon as Draco was sat in the his seat at the back of the class, detention assigned, he pulled out a piece of parchment. He didn't listen in class, he could make a strengthening potion with his eyes closed. Draco dipped his quill in the ink and started writing.
Dear Potter,
Why do you smile as if you were about to cry?
Draco paused. He looked around, but no one was paying attention to him. It wasn't a practical lesson, so there were no chances that someone would stumble into him and see that he wasn't actually taking notes.
He bowed his head.
I see you. When you don't think anyone is watching, and your shoulders slump. I see how you smile at your friends, but it isn't real, and I don't understand how they could not notice.
I understand it though.
The need to look strong, to hide the weakness.
I see it in your eyes when you look ahead of you, staring into space, trying to make sense of the drowning sensation.
Trying to keep your head up, barely managing to breathe as everything starts to grow smaller around you,
Choking you
Until you just need to let it out.
-
It was a couple days later that Draco noticed something else about Potter.
He had been steadily getting worse, and Draco still could not fathom how his supposed friends hadn't noticed anything yet. They hadn't observed the way Potter seemed to deflate when left behind, looking hollowly at the couple ahead of him. They hadn't noticed the deep purple bags that grew on the brunette's face slowly, getting worse day after day.
Draco frowned as he spelled his own scars and troubles away, muttering a quick glamour.
His stomach grumbled, but he paid no mind to it.
-
Draco still went to breakfast. He didn't look at the food laid in front of him, no, his mind was concentrated on the familiar mop of black hair on the other side of the Great Hall.
Potter was sat beside Weasley, whose back was turned from him in favour of talking to his girlfriend, their heads bowed low close to each other. Granger suddenly giggled and turned red, while Weasley turned to look around him. Draco's gaze moved onto the other side of Harry, where Longbottom was silently eating.
Draco was about to scream. How did nobody notice that Harry wasn't eating anything? How did nobody notice that he was getting skinnier and skinnier?
He shot up, gaining a few curious stares from the first year Slytherins that watched him bolt from the Great Hall.
He might just have enough time to write a letter.
-
Draco didn't go to his first lesson of the day; but that was fine. He was doing much more important things. He was letting everything out.
The letter he had started that morning after breakfast had turned into five pages within the first hour, and ten pages after two. He wasn't satisfied until his neat handwriting had filled almost twenty pages.
He talked about everything, he really did let everything out.
And it felt so-
So relieving.
After writing the familiar, Dear Potter, Draco had gone on to ask the boy how it felt like not having nobody notice how he was slowly falling to pieces, everything crumbling around him and the ground he was standing on shaking while everybody stood and watched.
And yes, maybe he did cry while writing it.
But the telltale tear on the parchment had already dried up.
-
After a month of letters, Draco woke up to the sounds of birds chirping outside and a chilly breeze of air filtering through the window over his bed.
He grumbled loudly and cursed himself for not having bothered to close the window as he flopped on his bed the night before.
As he stood, Draco glanced at his desk, now dripping with stacks of parchment.
He smiled.
-
Draco was slouched over the table, writing furiously, when the bell rang and he was brought back to the present.
He hastily grabbed the parchment and stuffed it into his bag, running out of the classroom toward the dungeons.
The Ravenclaws had been giving him poisonous looks throughout the lesson. He didn't know what was going on, but he wasn't going to wait to find out.
He ran as quickly as he could to his room.
Suddenly, from the shadows of the dimly lit hallway, a foot stuck out, sending Draco on the floor and all of the parchment flying from his bag. He kneeled, not raising his head in fear of meeting someone's eyes, and quickly picked up his things, stuffing them in his bag.
A scornful laugh sounded right above Draco, who froze. He raised his head slowly.
"Look who it is." A seventh year Ravenclaw scrunched up his nose. "The Death Eater."
Draco raised his chin, looking at them defiantly.
Daring them to do something to him.
Their eyes narrowed at his blatant show of resistance and they circled him, five against one.
Draco knew there was no getting out of this, all he could do is keep his head up and walk out of there with at least a shred or his pride left.
"You're such a dirty scumbag." The blonde one said, poking at Draco with his foot. "Can't even manage to stay standing without the help of your father, huh?"
Draco clenched his hands.
Another one laughed. "Yeah, you're nothing without your asshole of a father." He said, "Where is he now, huh?"
Deep breath, in, out. Don't make it worse...
"Are you such a coward that not even your father loves you?"
Don't say anything... you'll only make it worse... you'll only make everything worse...
"No, haven't you heard?" Another one piped up, looking at Draco. "Daddy's lies haven't kept him out of prison this time."
Breathe...
"I heard his second trial is coming up soon, he is risking to go to Azkaban for the rest of his life or the Kiss..."
In...
Out...
"Personally, I hope it's the Kiss."
Draco screamed.
He slumped and arched his back, bringing his hands up to his ears.
Please...
The Ravenclaws laughed.
-
Draco was back in his dorm by the time the sun set.
He took his shirt off before sending it off to be cleaned. He studied his back, twisting his head to take a look at the long gashes that marred his back.
They started on his shoulder and some reached the small of his back, three angry red gashes that stood stark against his pale skin. Every time he moved, a spark of pain shot through his spine. His face scrunched as the pain took his breath away.
He turned around to study his face which was now filled with dark purple spots. He inhaled a sharp breath as he remembered what those Ravenclaws had done to him.
His gaze fell upon his bare arm, to a spot which was usually covered with the long sleeves of his shirt. He hadn't looked at the ugly black spot that marred his arm since the end of the war. He hadn't had enough strength to face the reality.
Now, though, the Dark Mark stood stark against his skin, only a reminder of all the things he had done, of all he had ruined. Of everyone he had let down. Of everyone who he had lost.
He scratched furiously at the mark, his fingernails dragging mercilessly over his skin as he scratched. And scratched. Tears started to fall out of his eyes as blood started to flow from the red gashes that were appearing on his skin.
Draco dropped to his knees, not having enough strength to do anything but sob uncontrollably.
Blood was gushing from his arm, but he paid no mind to it.
His head was filled with the faces of the past.
With fire,
All around him,
And he was drowning,
Slowly,
In a sea of red angry fire.
And all he wanted to do was let it out.
He had to let it all out.
So, shakily, he stood.
His knees almost gave away beneath him, but he grit his teeth and slowly made it to the table filled with parchment. He pulled out one from the stack and dipped his quill into the ink that was resting on the side of the table.
With shaky hands, he started writing.
Dear Harry.
I'm sorry.
Yes, you heard right.
A Malfoy, apologising. I guess that's not something you hear everyday, is it? But I have to do this. All I have left to do is say how sorry I am. For everything.
I hope that you can accept this apology, because I don't know what I would do if you didn't.
I guess I should explain, tell you everything that happened from the very beginning.
So Draco did. And he wrote about the war, about the Dark Mark, about the fire. He wrote about everything from the very beginning, from that summer after fifth year when it had all started.
And he didn't stop writing until it was four in the morning and his eyes closed.
-
It was a week later that it happened again. Draco's back had just started healing when he found himself once again surrounded by the familiar faces of the seven year Ravenclaws.
And it happened again. And again.
-
After a month of this, Draco had learned to shut everything out. He no longer spoke in class, he no longer raised his head when he felt those curious and sometimes less than friendly stares at the back of his head. He didn't eat, he didn't bother to pretend like he was anymore. In the morning, glamouring his face and arm had become a mindless routine, just as he now scratched the mark on his arm daily until blood ran warm trickling on his arm.
When those punches and hexes came weekly, if not daily, Draco didn't scream. He didn't even listen anymore at the taunts thrown at him. He shut it all out. He dreamt of a peaceful place, and didn't even notice some of the more painful hexes that were thrown at him.
He didn't whimper,
He didn't raise his head,
He didn't open his eyes.
He didn't listen.
So Draco didn't notice the loud booming voice echo in the darkness, he didn't see the offenders step away as if burnt. He didn't notice the blows stop, he merely sat there, amidst the silence he had created for himself.
Around him, there was nothing.
There certainly wasn't a familiar brunette kneeling beside him, his brows furred in worry. There wasn't chaos around them as the Ravenclaws backed away, explanations and excuses about to fall from their mouths before the boy glared at them and they ran away.
There wasn't anything beside Draco.
That was until a warm hand touched his shoulder softly.
-
Draco gasped painfully.
A tingly feeling shot through his body and he shuddered, suddenly blast back to reality by the mere human contact.
His breathing was ragged, and one of his eyes was swelling painfully. He was sure he looked like a right mess.
Draco raised his head to look at his saviour, but when he met the familiar emerald eyes, he shut his own and shook his head, trying to make sense of what was happening.
He groaned at his motion and halted, his fingers coming up to claw at his temples where a splitting migraine was forming. "Whoa, easy there" said the voice beside him. Suddenly, warmth washed over him and he felt his eye swell down, returning to a normal size. He breathed.
Draco still couldn't fathom the idea that Harry, of all people was kneeling there beside him, Draco, a Death Eater, a dirty scumbag... "Are you alright?" Asked the boy, voice dripping with concern.
Draco wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Yeah," he muttered trying to push away the hand that was still rested on his shoulder, but it didn't budge. "Thanks, Potter."
He physically felt the boy stiffen beside him, and shyly raised his head to gaze at that shocked face, mouth open and eyes wide. "Well, don't look so surprised, Potty," he said, "you did send away those Ravenclaws."
Harry snapped his mouth shut and studied Draco carefully, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "You're welcome, Malfoy. Come on, let's get you to your room." And he stood, brushing off the dust from his trousers as he did. He then extended his hand for DRaco to take, "C'mon, I'll pull you up."
Draco stared at the extended hand. Did Harry know what it meant to him? Did he realise the extent of that simple action and the repercussions it'd have for Draco? As Draco stared at that hand, Harry seemed to get fidgety. "Well?"
"Thanks, but I can do that myself. Don't need the big bad Gryffindor to help me stand." Draco said, and, after glancing quickly at Harry who stared down at him with the familiar challenging glint in his eyes, he hoisted himself up. His knees wavered beneath him, and he crumpled to the floor with a loud, "Umph!"
Harry snickered beside him, and Draco turned to glare at him. It was completely useless, however, as Harry just started laughing harder. Soon, he was on the floor again laughing uncontrollably as draco kept glaring at him. Every time he seemed to have stopped, Draco would say, "are you done now?" And he'd start all over again.
Draco's stomach lurched. His breath caught as he kept looking at Harry, who, for the first time in what had felt like forever, was smiling. Really smiling, nothing like that crap he pulled when he was with Granger and Weasley.
Then, Potter stood up, not laughing anymore, but his lip was still quivering as it threatened to raise into a smile. Then, he extended his hand again. "Want to try again?"
Draco looked up at the boy who had been faking it all since the end of the war, who had kept his head low and smiled only when needed, the boy who was not smiling honestly. The boy who had just offered his hand a second time to Draco, an action which would have brought 11-year-old Draco close to tears.
And Draco took the hand.
Recognition sparked in Harry's eyes as he pulled Draco up, but he didn't let go, even when Draco was standing in front of him, Harry refused to let go. Draco looked at Harry and noticed the brunette was staring at their enclosed hands.
Draco held his breath as Harry slowly lifted his head, and melted when he saw a shy smile curving the other boy's lips. He mirrored the smile and cocked his head.
"Friends?" Harry asked Draco.
"Friends." Draco smiled.
Harry did too.
And Draco finally recognised the feeling in his stomach.
The fluttering,
The lurching,
The smiling.
And he was royally screwed.
-
The next few weeks passed with Draco smiling so much more than normal.
Soon after the handshake, he had run to his room and written pages and pages on Harry.
He still remembered the feeling he felt when he wrote those sentences. He still remembered the feeling when he acknowledged his feelings with the words, And I realise all the things that have made me fall in love with you so deeply that I am scared I will never get back up.
He spent all of his spare time with Harry, chattering and teasing.
Finally, Draco noticed the other boy's eyes sparkle with something new.
Something that resembled happiness.
-
"Mmh, okay." Harry said after he finished chewing his bite of sandwich. "If you had to choose between being sorted in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, what would you pick?"
Draco scrunched up his nose in false disgust, and Harry chuckled, apparently amused by draco's blatant show of revulsion. "I am not dignifying that with an answer," he said, looking down and swiping his mayonnaise covered fingers over a napkin. He sat up. "What would you do if you were sorted in Slytherin?"
Harry laughed, and covered his mouth with mis hand as he finished chewing. "Um-" he started, looking around as if he were about to let out a secret, "Actually, the hat almost sorted me in Slytherin."
Draco gaped. Harry, in Slytherin, sharing a dorm with Draco in first year. They would have become friends, their animosity forgotten. They'd have fought everything side by side, two Slytherins proving the world that they were not all bad. They would have... they-
Draco breathed. "Well, you wouldn't have survived the end of the day." He said, a slight smile growing on his face.
When Draco looked up from his lap, he found Harry looking at him with a strange expression on his face, his emerald eyes sparkling with something akin to fondness, as he smiled warmly at Draco.
-
It had been a normal day up to then. Draco had been writing his letter until breakfast had started, when he had sprinted down the tower and into the Great Hall. He sat at his table, facing the Gryffindors when the trio came in, talking silently between each other. Harry was smiling as Granger turned to him and laid a hand on his shoulder.
As soon as the trio sat down, Harry curiously giving his back to Draco, the two other Gryffindors met his eyes. Draco cocked his head in confusion, but Granger and Weasley kept looking at him.
Suddenly, they went back to their conversation, shoulders hunched together and hushed whispers. The three friends didn't notice Draco staring at them, or if they did, they were too engrossed in their conversation to care. Occasionally, one of the trio would break off and glance at Draco quickly, an enquiring, confused, or calculating expression on their faces.
What was happening?
-
Draco quickly scribbled a quick note on a spare piece of parchment, and folded it into a swan. Levitating it towards Harry, he smiled inwardly. He couldn't wait for their meeting later on, his mind was still reeling from the happenings during breakfast.
He watched as the swan slowly flew across the air to the desk where the familiar mop of hair was slumped over the table, forehead rested on his arms. As soon as the note fell gracefully on the table beside Harry, he raised his head and curiously took the note in his hands. He turned, and shot a glance at draco, who motioned opening the letter with a nod of his head.
Harry read the note, and looked up smiling at Draco, then nodded.
-
Draco was waiting in the dark alcove when someone tripped with a loud 'umph!' And stumbled inside.
He smiled, looking at Harry exasperatedly. How could someone look so adorable?
Draco kept looking down at his parchment where he was finishing his potions essay when Harry said, "hi." He looked up. Harry was standing in front of him, face flushed and eyes bright. His smile was curved in a small shy smile and he looked at Draco warmly.
He shuddered lightly, hoping Harry hadn't noticed the effect that that smile was having on him. He couldn't take it anymore, the temptation was too strong.
Draco turned away, pretending disinterest as he ignored Harry.
A huff sounded beside him, and suddenly, he felt the brunette kneel beside him, slumping his shoulders to meet Draco's eyes which were cast low. Harry had a slight frown on his face, the brightness in his eyes gone as he studied Draco carefully.
Draco couldn't move. He felt trapped by the body beside him, and he knew one more move and he would crumble, and he would start telling the truth, and his newfound friendship would end. He couldn't let that happen. Not only for him, not only for the fact that he was going to go back to how he was before, but for Harry. He didn't want to see the brunette in the state he had been in before. After witnessing this other side of the Gryffindor, he didn't want to lose him ever again.
So he kept his eyes downcast, shoulders slumped and hand moving in familiar motions as he unthinkingly wrote the conclusion of the Potions essay. In the meantime, Harry was still looking at him, eyebrows pulled together in a frown. "Draco..." he started, seemingly hoping to get the blonde's attention. But Draco knew he couldn't give in. "Hey, is everything alright?"
Draco kept his mouth closed and said nothing, but after a while sitting in the silence that was quickly becoming uncomfortable like it had never been before, he murmured, "I'm fine, Potter."
Harry stepped backwards as if he were burnt. Draco looked up at his now closed face, nothing betraying his emotions. Then, he pulled a piece of parchment out of his pocket and thrust it at him.
Draco stared unblinkingly at the parchment laying in front of him, a terrified expression on his face.
Dear Harry,
Today was the first time I understood. Today was the first time I saw what was happening.
It had been going on for a while, but today you showed up. And you had to save me, right? It's your hero complex. But it meant so much more to me.
Do you know how it felt like to finally see you smile after all this time? Do you know how it felt like to hear you laugh after everything you have been through?
Do you know how it felt to make that happen?
Draco crumpled up the parchment in his hand, already knowing what was about to happen. How did Harry get this? Oh my god, he's not going to want to be friends with me anymore. Oh, god, that's what he was talking about with his friends.
Oh no...
I'm tainted.
Ruined.
He's never going to talk to me anymore.
He didn't hear the footsteps coming closer to him, he didn't hear the soft voice that called to him.
Draco looked around him, unseeing, his breathing picking up. He couldn't breathe. Nothing could save him. He needed this, now that Harry didn't want to look at him anymore. "Not worth..." he muttered, "Disgusting..." he wheezed.
Then, warm arms enveloped him.
Draco clung to those like a lifeline, not knowing who they belonged to, but needing the anchor. He buried his face in the crook of the stranger's neck, and sobbed loudly. The arms tightened around him and Draco breathed slowly, trying to match his breaths with those of the person around him. In, and out... In, and out... Eventually, he stopped crying and the tears dried on his cheeks, and still, he breathed heavily, and deeply. The arms were lighter on his back now, but soft and caring, and Draco smiled.
He pulled back a little bit, needing to know the person who had saved him, only to see the familiar emerald eyes staring back at him. Draco couldn't say he was surprised, but he sucked in a sharp breath and tried to get away.
However, those arms didn't budge and he found himself toppling forwards towards Harry. He put his hands on the brunette's chest to sop himself from falling on him, but then froze. Their faces were inches apart, he only had to learn a slight bit and they would-
Draco swallowed loudly as he watched Harry part his lips in what seemed like a subconscious motion.
He didn't think, merely closed his eyes and flung himself on the brunette. Their lips met, and draco melted in Harry's strong grip. It was merely a chaste kiss, but Draco heard Harry moan quietly. Draco froze when he realised what he had done, and quickly pulled away, muttering apologies as Harry stared in front of him, his eyes veiled with something that draco couldn't realised. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whispered, "I shouldn't have done that..."
He hastily stood up, and made his way to the door as his knees threatened to give out beneath him.
"Wait, no!" Harry said desperately behind him, and suddenly, Draco was stopped by a warm hand gripping his arm. He couldn't stop, though. He had to leave, he couldn't listen to any more of this, he couldn't hear what harry had to say.
He already knew.
But Harry didn't let him leave, instead, he pulled Draco closer to him with strength only he could have, and Draco couldn't do anything, he wasn't strong, he'd just sit back and take it, he could shut everything off-
And then Harry kissed him.
Draco gasped in the kiss, his mind reeling, trying to make sense of what was happening. He felt himself freeze under the kiss, but Harry kept going, and looped his arms around draco, as if scared that the blonde was going to run away. But Draco knew he couldn't he wasn't ever going to be able to leave Harry anymore, not after this.
Then, Harry pushed his tongue in draco's mouth and Draco stopped thinking all together. He breathed and they kissed, a dance of tongues that felt infinite and send draco's mind to far off places. He smiled in the kiss and felt Harry's lips curve into a smile of his own, and he silently laughed, a laugh that spoke about uncertainty and surprise and love.
They pulled away and stood there, inches apart from each other, their foreheads resting on each other and they smiled, getting lost in each other's eyes, in those universes where only them two existed, and for the first time, Draco didn't need to let it out, for the first time, he had what he wanted in front of him, and Merlin knew he was never going to give it up.
"So," Harry breathed holding up the piece of parchment that had started it all, "Want to tell me about this?"
A/N: Well this took me three day to write. I don't think I will be able to finish these by the time I have to post them, but I will try my best.
Today's prompt was 'letters'.
Word count: 5151
Please tell me what you thought of this, and please remember, I haven't reread this so I'm sorry for any grammatical errors!