The fanfiction is here!
Hello once more. After much fiddling with this LJ concept, I've finally realised what happens when I use that 'Live Journal Cut' thingy. It took much experimentation, since I kept thinking it never worked, but I have the gist of it now. ^^;;
Anyway, I've decided that searching for communities is difficult. <.<;; Blarg. I won't give up hope though! I know that somewhere, out there, there's a community which fits my Harry Potter fanfic writing needs. Wouldn't that be nice, to post something that everyone would read? I think so. I've also decided on something else. I've heard of a 'Thirty Kisses' challenge, and also of '100 Drabbles', and I thought to myself: why should I do those about the same people? Obviously if I did, they would all be Drarry fics, and, don't get me wrong, I love Drarry fics. I really, really, really love that pairing. But I thought to myself: why not make them all different pairings? So today I'll think up a bunch of prompts, fifty to be exact, because that's a nice number, and each fic will be a different pairing. I wonder if I can do it. Bet I can. I'm just that obsessed. Towards the end it'll probably be totally obscure characters but I can live with that.
The real reason of this post though, is not to tell you that. It's to post my favourite, complete fic for the time being. Enjoy!
Title: They Never Knew How Much She Could Love
Rating: Slight PG, for slight angst. Very slight.
Summary: "I love you..." But her words were never heard.
Pairing: Harry x Draco
Length: 1 463
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, only the idea, however small it may be.
I love you, Harry.
I love you, Draco.
No. It was all wrong. It was terribly, horribly wrong. He didn't love him. They didn't love each other. Lies. That's all it was. It was a conversation filled with needless lies that crushed her body. It wasn't fair. None of this was supposed to be happening.
But with the war going on -
Sod the war. It doesn't matter anymore.
That wasn't her Draco talking. That blasted, good for nothing, Boy Who Just Couldn't Die had corrupted him. Her precious Draco, to whom she had been betrothed, with whom she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with. He was stealing him from her.
It had started a while ago; when exactly, she couldn't remember precisely. Their bickering and arguing had reached it's peak, where they had been brutally mauling each other in dreadfully muggle fashions. She remembered tending to her darling's wounds, listening to him rant on and on about that stupid Potter, and how he couldn't wait to get his sacred Mark, just to be able to show the bloody bastard his place.
Seemed like he had a change of ideas.
He had been silent after his detention served with the Gryffindor. She remembered waiting up for him, ready to fawn over him, listen to his complaints and insults, give him the attention he deserved. But that night he had been silent. Now she knew why. She knew everything now.
Draco, we both have responsibilites. We can't just... run away...
Why not?
Nature seemed to be reversed. They were still bickering constantly, but it was more of a show now. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed it right away: Draco being gone all the time, convenient detentions together, the notes... Merlin how she hated the notes. The first one she had read had burst to flame from her mere anger, uncontrollable magic seeping through her veins. She was hurt, betrayed, and jealous. Jealous wasn't strong enough a word for her emotion. It still wasn't.
I... I don't...
We could, Harry. Just you and me.
It was supposed to be him and her, forever. He wasn't allowed to propose such monstrous ideas. Did he really hate her that much? Was she really nothing to him? They had spent years together, close friends, never lovers, but promised to each other. And they had been content with that, hadn't they? She had always listened to him, he did the same, though now she suspected he tuned out most of the time. Not like he did with Harry. Never like he did with Harry.
It had been after the first month of her discovery that she had followed him to their detention. A disillusioned spell was cast on herself, and she had waited. It hadn't been much, merely rough kisses in the room the professors left them in. Alone. What the hell kind of professors did that? And then there was the touching, the panting, the angry tossing of clothes...
That she had been able to handle. They had made a pact, he and her, that they were allowed to see others. They weren't married yet. She herself had experimented with many of the blokes at Hogwarts. She had been placated enough by their encounter, but as Draco became more distant, her visits became more frequent. Curiousity killed the cat. What a terribly truthful expression that was.
Do you know what you're saying, Draco? You want to abandon everything?
Yes.
A few weeks had passed until her next mission. This one had been much stranger than the other; it wasn't angry frotting and bruised kisses. These touches lingered and teased, as if enjoying the other's company and drawing it out for as long as possible. It made her sick to her stomach, and the envy inside her surged. They had no right to do such a thing! He was hers, and hers alone. This was no one night stand, that much her reluctant heart could tell. It hurt that much more.
What if they catch us?
What if they don't?
It was at that time she had gotten on Draco's case. "You're never around anymore!" "Your homework is always done! Why isn't it done now?" "Where are you off to again?" Her words seemed to annoy and nag him, and the sneers that were usually reserved for the enemy were given to her. She had even slapped him once, for being rude to her, daring to tell his father that he was being so injust with her. But the rule for not hitting girls didn't apply to him. She had slapped him right back. Why she hadn't thought him gay before she didn't know. Maybe she just didn't want to think that her body might repulse him. It surely did, for he was even more distant after that argument. And her following became more frequent.
Draco, they'd hurt you. Crucios and Imperios... we aren't that strong.
It doesn't matter, Harry. We won't get caught. I'm a Slytherin, remember? Very sneaky...
The first time she had allowed a tear to fall was when she saw them laying on a desk, doing nothing at all but speaking. Soft words, foreign words, words she herself had never heard directed towards her. No intimate touches, yet they were obviously intimate. The word 'love' had yet to be spoekn, but it hung in the air, suffocating her. Was that what he wanted? Was that what it took for him to love her back?
That night she visited him alone. She tried to obliviate the memory from her mind, but couldn't bring herself to do it. Instead, softly, she padded to his room. She entered it, slipping into his bed, caressing his arm with her hand, watching him. He stirred in his sleep, shifting slightly, but inching closer to her. She smiled. Maybe his fling with Potter was over. Maybe they could finally be together. Maybe now that she had shown a bit of gentleness, things she had thought he never wanted, he would be with her.
"Harry?" he murmured, smiling, then turning to his side. She hadn't gotten an ounce of sleep that night.
Don't you care? You'd be leaving everything behind.
It doesn't matter. Nothing does. Only you.
This year had been her worst; she hated it with a passion. The next weeks had been spent trying to get him to pay attention to her, to become friends like they used to be. But he didn't care about her, or anything else anymore. No one seemed to notice this but her. And each time she saw it, she felt like crying. The envy had melted into a deep sorrow, a sorrow that never left her, no matter how much she tried.
What was wrong with her? Was it her face? Her breasts? Were her arms to gangly? Her legs to short? Was her hair never perfect? Was she not what every pureblood wanted their daughter to be like? Wouldn't she make a good wife? Wouldn't she produce a good heir? Why wouldn't he love her? Why?
Draco...
Harry.
It was all wrong. She was just as capable a lover as that idiot was. That Scar Head! That dense fickle-brain! That boyfriend stealer! That horrid, vile boy who had the saddest story yet got everything he wanted. Why did he want her Draco? After everything they had gone through, how could they possibly want each other?
I don't want you to regret anything.
I would never regret anything I do with you.
She could love him roughly. She could love him softly. She could whisper harsh insulting words if he wanted. She could mutter sweet sounds and cooes into his ear. She could mess up his hair. She could iron his clothes. She could do whatever he wanted her to, but now she couldn't. He wouldn't let her. She no longer existed.
And now she watched them, outside by the lake, her disillusion charm on herself, sitting, crying softly, her sounds muted from their ears, neither of them caring enough to notice how hurt she was. She didn't matter to him, he had said it. Nothing mattered to him.
Draco?
Yeah?
She watched as they stood, as they hugged, as any thought of her was permanently erased from her mind.
I love you.
I love you.
She watched as they left the grounds. She watched as they escaped the dreadful world she was a part of, leaving her behind in it, with only a memory of her Draco. She watched as they created a world with only each other, away from the school, away from the war, away from everything. She watched, her tears blurring all vision, but she watched.
"I love you..."
But her words were never heard.