Fic: Manorexic, Harry/Draco, NC-17
Title: Manorexic
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,686
Summary: The Malfoys have always been very clear as to what they hold in high regard, such as wealth and blood purity, but as Pansy and Blaise found out in July of last year, there are some things that Lucius and Narcissa drilled into Draco's head from the time he was a little boy that left deeper impressions than even a Dark Mark.
Warnings: Eating Disorder
Author's Note: thank you so much, everyone, for not only reviewing, but for some of these long, thought-out comments that dissect the story! the fact that anyone cares so much is astounding to me. just...thank you, thank you, thank you. <3
ADDITIONAL NOTE: The title of this fiction is an ambiguous word. No offense is meant by its use.
Thanks to themaohour for beta-ing. :)
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Manorexic
Chapter Twelve
Draco couldn't understand why he was suddenly so excited about the prospect of trying to eat, only that it had to do with Harry and seeing his face light up like that again. The way Harry had kissed him when he'd revealed the news about the bowl of oatmeal he'd eaten yesterday at breakfast . . . it had been like something out of a fucking fairytale. Harry Potter kissed like he did everything else: passionately and like it was the last thing he'd ever do.
Or maybe it just felt that way to Draco because he was quickly realizing just how attached to this boy he really was. It was kind of sick, in a way. He thought about Harry almost as much as he thought about his appearance.
When Harry had kissed him the first time, it had felt like time had stopped, like the earth had been holding its breath and watching. But that second time, when Harry had grabbed his face and just gone for it, like he'd been waiting to do it his whole life . . . that kiss had felt to Draco like it had been earth-shattering; like the whole world had rocked beneath them, with them. And for a moment Draco had lost his breath and forgotten where he was.
But this insanity had brought up a new problem, one he hadn't expected to be faced with: Harry had told Draco he was beautiful, that he was stunning, told him twice, in fact, but that didn't make it any easier for Draco to believe. And he couldn't help but wonder if eating might change that. Certainly it was worth a try for now - anything was worth being kissed like that - but would Harry still think him as beautiful or stunning if he gained weight? Draco knew he was fat, but Harry honestly didn't seem to see it. Would he see it finally if Draco continued on this way?
It made his head hurt, but he resolved to continue trying at least for now. Maybe take it a bit slower, though . . . He'd eaten a very small bowl of cereal this morning and then tried to force some bacon down at dinner. Two pieces had been okay, but when he'd bitten into the third he'd felt his stomach rumble horribly and he'd raced out of the Great Hall and into the nearest bathroom. He'd found himself clutching his stomach over a toilet bowl for the next hour. He'd not thrown it up - he'd forced himself not to - but it had been uncomfortable to say the least.
Later in the evening, while he'd been waiting for Harry in the Prefects' bathroom, he'd resolved not to tell him. After all, he hadn't thrown up. And it hadn't even been a situation where he'd had to stop himself from sticking his fingers down his throat; his body had tried to reject the food on its own. The fact that he'd resisted, in his opinion, was incredible enough that he thought he deserved to only tell Harry about how much he'd eaten today without the gory details.
Harry would be proud of him. And maybe he'd kiss him again.
* * *
Anthony was waiting for Harry outside the Great Hall after dinner. Harry had noticed Malfoy walk out and he'd wanted to follow, but he hadn't. Ron was already not speaking to him, and he wasn't sure, but he thought Hermione was uncomfortable as well.
He was a little surprised to see Anthony. A part of him had been under the impression that he'd have to apologize to his boyfriend and explain the situation and yadda-yadda-yadda, but apparently that wasn't the case.
Anthony smiled at him, albeit a little weakly, and took his hand. As they made their way up the stairs toward both of their dorms Harry asked the question that was on his mind.
"You're not mad at me?"
Anthony sighed and chuckled a bit. "You mean because of Ron?" Harry nodded. "Harry, I'm dating you, not your friends. Just because you get into a fight with them doesn't mean you're in a fight with me, too. To be honest, I'm a little hurt that you'd peg me as being as recklessly emotional as Ron."
Harry flushed. "You're right. I'm sorry. It's just-"
"I know. Hermione told me what happened. I don't blame you for being wary." He leaned up and kissed the corner of Harry's mouth. Harry smiled weakly down at him. "I understand why Ron's upset, but in your defense, you had made plans already." Harry breathed a sigh of relief and leaned down to kiss Anthony fully on the mouth. He'd never been so thankful for a smart, understanding boyfriend. When he pulled away, however, Anthony looked a little doubtful.
"What?"
"Having said that, I still think you should try to understand Ron's feelings. This is Malfoy, after all, not just some arbitrary boy you've decided to spend time with."
Harry huffed and folded his arms across his chest. He prayed his cheeks wouldn't color as images of what he and Malfoy had gotten up to these past few days flitted across his mind.
"It's not like I'm replacing him and Hermione. I'm just helping him get over this thing he has with his body image. It's really sad to see."
"I know, Harry. My sister, remember? And it's very noble of you to do, especially considering who he is."
Harry bumped Anthony with his shoulder and Anthony laughed and hooked their arms, leaning into Harry's side.
"I mean it. You know that, right? I love you."
Harry’s heart leapt into his throat but he turned to Anthony anyway and covered his cheeks with his hands.
"I know," he said softly. "I love you too." It hurt a little bit to say that, and Harry wasn't sure whether this was because he felt bad for lying to Anthony about Malfoy or for lying about his feelings. He decided not to dwell on it right now. Instead, he kissed him gently and squeezed his hands.
The voice of the eagle-knocker broke their silence: "Define truth."
Harry's eyes went very wide and he looked to Anthony helplessly, sure they'd be out here for quite a while. To his astonishment, Anthony looked perfectly confident.
"I don't think there is any definitive definition of 'truth,'" he said speculatively to the eagle. "There are only constants, the things that never change from perspective to perspective; such as the fact that this castle is called Hogwarts."
"Well reasoned," the eagle knocker replied, and the door to Ravenclaw opened. Harry shook his head with a chuckle and kissed Anthony's cheek.
"You're crazy."
"Intelligent," Anthony corrected, and with a last kiss goodnight he stepped inside and disappeared.
* * *
When Harry walked into the bathroom, Draco could already tell he looked conflicted and it made his stomach clench. He felt himself falling back to his habitual defensive attitude before a word was even spoken between them.
"Hi," Harry said, only giving him half a smile. Draco merely stared from where he sat on the bench. Harry sighed and walked over, sitting down next to him. "How was your day?"
"All right," Draco said carefully. He continued to watch Harry. Harry didn't seem to notice. He nodded.
"Eat anything?"
Draco sucked briefly on his lower lip, watching his own hands in his lap, before saying, "Cereal. And some bacon at dinner."
Harry's smile grew until it was a real one. "Brilliant!"
"It was disgusting."
He could tell that Harry wasn't sure whether he was being facetious or not. In all honesty, Draco couldn't tell himself. Perhaps he was waiting for Harry's reaction to know for sure.
"It's a start, though, isn't it?" he tried eventually. Draco looked back at his hands and nodded.
"I guess so."
"Is something wrong?"
Yes. But Draco knew it was silly. Of course it was: it was ridiculous to have expected Harry to come running inside with a huge smile on his face, ready to snog the living daylights out of him and tell him how much he missed him today. But it didn't stop Draco from being a little upset. And maybe a little withdrawn. Besides, Harry looked less than perky himself, and it worried Draco. He was on edge about this relationship . . . or whatever it was supposed to be.
"No," he said. He didn't look at Harry. But then he felt warm fingers under his chin and he was forced to do so, and less than a second later Harry was kissing him. When Harry pulled away he looked down. Draco touched his lips gently, feeling how they tingled in the aftermath of another breathtaking kiss. "What was that for?"
"To reassure myself."
A lump seemed to form in Draco's throat. What was that supposed to mean?
"Of what?" he asked, hearing the harsh tone in his own voice. Harry looked up at him briefly and then back down. Draco's eyebrows knitted.
"That I'm doing the right thing."
Draco stood up so quickly that his head spun. Harry's eyes followed him, wide now, as though Draco had startled him. Draco's teeth ground together in irritation. He had to tell himself that sometimes Harry said stupid things . . . sometimes he worded things badly. He wasn't all that diplomatic or tactful.
"What?" he asked. His hands froze on his thighs, as though he was afraid that, should he move, he might scare Draco away. This angered him further.
"What does that even mean? Are you unsure whether you want to be . . . helping me with . . . or meeting . . ." He realized he had no idea how to word it. Or even which part of this whole situation Harry had been referring to. The kissing, the . . . the eating thing, or . . .
Harry stood up cautiously, never taking his eyes off Draco, and Draco frowned. He didn't move, however, when Harry came up to him, though he tried to hide the fact that his breathing sped up considerably.
"Don't flip your lid, okay?" Harry said softly, but when he tried to reach out and touch Draco's shoulder, the boy twisted it out of the way. Harry's forehead creased and for the first time he began to look a little ticked off. "Look, Malfoy, you can't just expect me to know what you're thinking. Why the hell are you getting all prickly again?"
"Prickly?" he spat and took a step back. Harry looked utterly baffled and this served to further enrage Draco. "Are you unaware of what you just said to me?"
"No, I told you that I was -"
"That you're unsure whether you want to be doing . . . this," he said fiercely, gesturing between them. Harry looked up at the ceiling with narrowed eyes as if to ask it, Is he joking?
"All I said was that I was reassuring myself!" he yelled, and Draco's eyes went wide. He felt his blood boiling, felt it simmering the way it always had when Potter made him angry. Harry himself looked like he was getting pissed.
"Well that's really comforting, Potter! It's good to know that someone who's supposed to be helping me isn't sure that he’s doing the right thing!"
Harry looked both shocked and upset. Like he hadn't the slightest clue as to what Draco was talking about. Draco heard himself growl.
"If you'd stop being such a fucking girl for a second, Malfoy, and listen to me, you wouldn't jump to such absurd conclusions!"
Draco's jaw dropped. "That's right, Potter!" he shouted, causing Harry to stumble backward a step. "Play at my sore spots! I tell you crap I've never told anyone and you use it against me! That's really fucking noble of you!"
"What the fuck are you talking about?!" Draco watched as Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again he looked a bit calmer. "Look, I don't know why you just got so angry, but all I meant was that I'm sort of confused right now because my friends aren't happy about me running off to see you all the time. I got in a fight with Ron and he's not even speaking to me right now."
Draco thought that if it were possible for steam to come out of his ears, the bathroom would be a giant cloud of angry smoke right about now. Harry seemed to sense this because his face went pale.
"Malfoy, I -"
"Just get out of here, Potter!" he screamed, and he was trying desperately to hold back the tears that were pressing relentlessly at the corners of his eyes. He should have known this was too good to last very long. Weasley was upset, and Potter was backing down. How very typical. Well, he wasn't about to sit through it any longer. "Go back to your idiot friend and tell him not to worry because you won't be running off with the big bad girly Death Eater anymore!"
"Malfoy -" Harry began quietly, but Draco cut him off.
"Get out, Potter!"
And suddenly Harry looked like he'd been betrayed by his best friend. Crestfallen. Draco stood his ground, even though every fiber of his being was screaming at him to run over and kiss the idiot Gryffindor. Even though the idiot Gryffindor wasn't so sure whether he was willing to deal with a bit of shit from his "loyal" Weasel in order to spend time with someone whom he'd claimed to really want to help. And kiss.
“Will you jus t-”
“OUT!”
Harry glared at Draco for another moment before grabbing his Cloak and storming out of the bathroom. Draco whipped out his wand without thinking and threw a hex at the door, one which did absolutely nothing, but it felt good nevertheless.
The weight of the food from earlier felt heavier than ever. In a fit of rage he ran over to a stall, bent oover the toilet, and stuck his fingers as far down his throat as he could manage. They scraped the soft tissue and he vaguely tasted blood, but it took half the time to make himself gag. He suffered through the initial convulsions, thinking about Harry the whole time, knowing he was doing this not only because he hated himself for having pushed him away and fucked it up, but because he knew it would hurt the boy.
When the food came up and splashed into the water beneath him he felt the anxious clutch that had gripped his stomach since yesterday release a little and he hated himself all the more for it. He was so pathetic he couldn’t even keep food down for two days.
He wiped his mouth and staggered out of the stall, loathing himself more than he could remember doing in a while. Palms pressed into his eyes, he tried not to think about the cause of all this.
* * *
Pansy followed Draco into his dormitory and shut the door behind them. She stopped a few feet from his bed and gave him a gentle look. He’d brought his knees up to his chest and was hugging them, refusing to look at her.
“Draco,” she started softly. He didn’t respond. She hated seeing him like this: he was hurting so badly and she could practically feel it. This whole situation was unbearably confusing. First she’d been worried because he wasn’t eating and he was puking his guts up - not that that had been something new - and now it was something else as well. She just didn’t know what. Yesterday he’d eaten at breakfast, and today he’d had breakfast and dinner. It had something to do with this new . . . situation, she just couldn’t figure it out. It had occurred to her that it might have something to do with this new “somebody” he was fawning over, but she couldn’t figure that out, either. It was unbelievably frustrating, especially since she had no one to punch in the face for hurting her boy. Because that was clearly what had happened. She was a girl, after all, and girls could sense these things.
She sat on the bed beside Draco and placed a hand on his knee.
“What happened?”
Draco stayed silent. Pansy sighed.
“Does it have to do with this boy you won’t tell me about?”
Draco’s body tensed in response; it was as good as a “yes.”
“I still don’t know who it is, so you don’t have to worry about that. Can you just tell me what happened so I can at least . . . I don’t know, comfort you or something? Merlin, Draco, I hate seeing you like this.”
Draco finally looked up. Pansy managed a weak smile. He didn’t smile back, but he bit his lip and brought a hand up to cover hers on his knee. Then he looked at her - a harsh stare that very nearly unnerved her - and seemed to come to a conclusion.
“Pansy,” he said, and she nodded as if to urge him to continue. “Please don’t throw a fit.”
Her heart raced. Was he going to tell her? She had to keep from smiling excitedly.
“I’m serious,” he said. “If you tell anyone, or . . . or do anything to let him know I told you, or make a scene in any way, I’ll . . . so help me God, Pansy, I’ll tell your mum you fucked a Muggle.” Pansy only glared, choosing not to dignify that with a response. “Swear to me you won’t-”
“Good God, Draco, I won’t say a thing! Will you tell me already?!”
Draco swallowed and looked away, squeezing her hand beneath his.
“Potter,” he said finally. Pansy felt her mouth go dry.
“. . . What?”
He looked at her. “Harry Potter. I’m . . . I like Potter. . . . A lot. And I’ve been meeting him in the Prefects’ bathroom for about two weeks now. It’s been him helping me with . . . Why I ate yesterday and today. And the other day he kissed me, and I can’t stop thinking about him, and just a few minutes ago he told me . . .” Draco sighed heavily and brought both hands up to cover his eyes, pressing his palms into them. Pansy watched, feeling as though she might cry, as her usually composed friend broke down in front of her. “He essentially said he wasn’t sure he was doing the right thing.” He dropped his hands and Pansy saw there were a few smeared tears on his cheeks just below his eyes. “The Weasel isn’t talking to him, apparently. Because of me. And Merlin knows the Giant Squid comes before a Death Eater on Potter’s List of Priority People.”
“You’re not a Death Eater,” Pansy said quietly, rubbing his back now. She was trying to keep any shock out of her voice. This was difficult due to the fact that Draco had just confessed to having a crush on Harry Potter, along with the fact that apparently they’d done a bit of snogging, but it didn’t keep her from feeling horrible for her best friend. Or angry at Potter for doing what was typical of him and all Gryffindors.
Draco glared at her and ripped his sleeve up his arm, exposing the very black, very-much-still-there Dark Mark that marred his pale arm. Pansy looked away.
“No matter what happens between us, I’ll always be the son of the Dark Lord’s right hand man; the boy he hated for seven years; the Death Eater who let Greyback and Bellatrix and all the others into the school. I’ll always be associated with the Dark Lord and the opposite side of the war. And his friends will always hate me.” His angry sneer had disappeared and been replaced with greatest despair. Pansy wrapped her arms around him, able to think of nothing else to do, and hugged him to her chest. Draco hugged her back and said into her ear, “He has a boyfriend, Pansy. It’s a miracle anything transpired in the first place. I can’t believe I let that happen.”
Pansy pulled away and held Draco’s arms, forcing him to look at her.
“Do you know what I think?” she said. He frowned.
“Do I want to know?”
She smiled reassuringly. “I think you and Potter make sense.” A look of incredulity crossed his face. “No, really. Now that I think about it, I kind of can’t believe I never saw it before. You two have always fought. There was bound to be something there, right? I mean, why else would two people care so much what the other thought?”
“Pans, I don’t think it was like tha -”
“Nonsense, it makes all the sense in the world.” She reached out to wipe a tear from Draco’s face. He grimaced, as though ashamed he’d cried. “Someone like Harry Potter won’t be satisfied for long with someone like Anthony Goldstein. Potter craves hardship and adventure and a chase. A challenge. And let’s be honest, Draco, no one presents more of a challenge than you.”
He rolled his eyes but a smile tugged at his mouth.
“I think he’ll come around. Don’t get too distraught over it, yeah? If he was stupid enough to kiss you in the first place he’s stupid enough to come back for more, right?
“Hey!”
“I’m just being honest!”
Draco slapped her arm and she laughed. “Besides. If he’s managing to help with your . . . thing, then, well . . . I’m all right with him.” Draco blushed and looked down at his hands. “I know you hate me talking about it, but I’m not going to pretend it’s not there anymore. You can deny it, but I’m not. At least Potter’s trying to help.” She leaned in again and hugged him. “I love you, Draco. Anyone who can make you happy is worth fighting for, I think.”
“What should I do?” he whispered. Once again, Pansy pulled away.
“Let him come back to you.”
Chapter Eleven | Page of Contents | Chapter Twelve
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,686
Summary: The Malfoys have always been very clear as to what they hold in high regard, such as wealth and blood purity, but as Pansy and Blaise found out in July of last year, there are some things that Lucius and Narcissa drilled into Draco's head from the time he was a little boy that left deeper impressions than even a Dark Mark.
Warnings: Eating Disorder
Author's Note: thank you so much, everyone, for not only reviewing, but for some of these long, thought-out comments that dissect the story! the fact that anyone cares so much is astounding to me. just...thank you, thank you, thank you. <3
ADDITIONAL NOTE: The title of this fiction is an ambiguous word. No offense is meant by its use.
Thanks to themaohour for beta-ing. :)
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Manorexic
Chapter Twelve
Draco couldn't understand why he was suddenly so excited about the prospect of trying to eat, only that it had to do with Harry and seeing his face light up like that again. The way Harry had kissed him when he'd revealed the news about the bowl of oatmeal he'd eaten yesterday at breakfast . . . it had been like something out of a fucking fairytale. Harry Potter kissed like he did everything else: passionately and like it was the last thing he'd ever do.
Or maybe it just felt that way to Draco because he was quickly realizing just how attached to this boy he really was. It was kind of sick, in a way. He thought about Harry almost as much as he thought about his appearance.
When Harry had kissed him the first time, it had felt like time had stopped, like the earth had been holding its breath and watching. But that second time, when Harry had grabbed his face and just gone for it, like he'd been waiting to do it his whole life . . . that kiss had felt to Draco like it had been earth-shattering; like the whole world had rocked beneath them, with them. And for a moment Draco had lost his breath and forgotten where he was.
But this insanity had brought up a new problem, one he hadn't expected to be faced with: Harry had told Draco he was beautiful, that he was stunning, told him twice, in fact, but that didn't make it any easier for Draco to believe. And he couldn't help but wonder if eating might change that. Certainly it was worth a try for now - anything was worth being kissed like that - but would Harry still think him as beautiful or stunning if he gained weight? Draco knew he was fat, but Harry honestly didn't seem to see it. Would he see it finally if Draco continued on this way?
It made his head hurt, but he resolved to continue trying at least for now. Maybe take it a bit slower, though . . . He'd eaten a very small bowl of cereal this morning and then tried to force some bacon down at dinner. Two pieces had been okay, but when he'd bitten into the third he'd felt his stomach rumble horribly and he'd raced out of the Great Hall and into the nearest bathroom. He'd found himself clutching his stomach over a toilet bowl for the next hour. He'd not thrown it up - he'd forced himself not to - but it had been uncomfortable to say the least.
Later in the evening, while he'd been waiting for Harry in the Prefects' bathroom, he'd resolved not to tell him. After all, he hadn't thrown up. And it hadn't even been a situation where he'd had to stop himself from sticking his fingers down his throat; his body had tried to reject the food on its own. The fact that he'd resisted, in his opinion, was incredible enough that he thought he deserved to only tell Harry about how much he'd eaten today without the gory details.
Harry would be proud of him. And maybe he'd kiss him again.
* * *
Anthony was waiting for Harry outside the Great Hall after dinner. Harry had noticed Malfoy walk out and he'd wanted to follow, but he hadn't. Ron was already not speaking to him, and he wasn't sure, but he thought Hermione was uncomfortable as well.
He was a little surprised to see Anthony. A part of him had been under the impression that he'd have to apologize to his boyfriend and explain the situation and yadda-yadda-yadda, but apparently that wasn't the case.
Anthony smiled at him, albeit a little weakly, and took his hand. As they made their way up the stairs toward both of their dorms Harry asked the question that was on his mind.
"You're not mad at me?"
Anthony sighed and chuckled a bit. "You mean because of Ron?" Harry nodded. "Harry, I'm dating you, not your friends. Just because you get into a fight with them doesn't mean you're in a fight with me, too. To be honest, I'm a little hurt that you'd peg me as being as recklessly emotional as Ron."
Harry flushed. "You're right. I'm sorry. It's just-"
"I know. Hermione told me what happened. I don't blame you for being wary." He leaned up and kissed the corner of Harry's mouth. Harry smiled weakly down at him. "I understand why Ron's upset, but in your defense, you had made plans already." Harry breathed a sigh of relief and leaned down to kiss Anthony fully on the mouth. He'd never been so thankful for a smart, understanding boyfriend. When he pulled away, however, Anthony looked a little doubtful.
"What?"
"Having said that, I still think you should try to understand Ron's feelings. This is Malfoy, after all, not just some arbitrary boy you've decided to spend time with."
Harry huffed and folded his arms across his chest. He prayed his cheeks wouldn't color as images of what he and Malfoy had gotten up to these past few days flitted across his mind.
"It's not like I'm replacing him and Hermione. I'm just helping him get over this thing he has with his body image. It's really sad to see."
"I know, Harry. My sister, remember? And it's very noble of you to do, especially considering who he is."
Harry bumped Anthony with his shoulder and Anthony laughed and hooked their arms, leaning into Harry's side.
"I mean it. You know that, right? I love you."
Harry’s heart leapt into his throat but he turned to Anthony anyway and covered his cheeks with his hands.
"I know," he said softly. "I love you too." It hurt a little bit to say that, and Harry wasn't sure whether this was because he felt bad for lying to Anthony about Malfoy or for lying about his feelings. He decided not to dwell on it right now. Instead, he kissed him gently and squeezed his hands.
The voice of the eagle-knocker broke their silence: "Define truth."
Harry's eyes went very wide and he looked to Anthony helplessly, sure they'd be out here for quite a while. To his astonishment, Anthony looked perfectly confident.
"I don't think there is any definitive definition of 'truth,'" he said speculatively to the eagle. "There are only constants, the things that never change from perspective to perspective; such as the fact that this castle is called Hogwarts."
"Well reasoned," the eagle knocker replied, and the door to Ravenclaw opened. Harry shook his head with a chuckle and kissed Anthony's cheek.
"You're crazy."
"Intelligent," Anthony corrected, and with a last kiss goodnight he stepped inside and disappeared.
* * *
When Harry walked into the bathroom, Draco could already tell he looked conflicted and it made his stomach clench. He felt himself falling back to his habitual defensive attitude before a word was even spoken between them.
"Hi," Harry said, only giving him half a smile. Draco merely stared from where he sat on the bench. Harry sighed and walked over, sitting down next to him. "How was your day?"
"All right," Draco said carefully. He continued to watch Harry. Harry didn't seem to notice. He nodded.
"Eat anything?"
Draco sucked briefly on his lower lip, watching his own hands in his lap, before saying, "Cereal. And some bacon at dinner."
Harry's smile grew until it was a real one. "Brilliant!"
"It was disgusting."
He could tell that Harry wasn't sure whether he was being facetious or not. In all honesty, Draco couldn't tell himself. Perhaps he was waiting for Harry's reaction to know for sure.
"It's a start, though, isn't it?" he tried eventually. Draco looked back at his hands and nodded.
"I guess so."
"Is something wrong?"
Yes. But Draco knew it was silly. Of course it was: it was ridiculous to have expected Harry to come running inside with a huge smile on his face, ready to snog the living daylights out of him and tell him how much he missed him today. But it didn't stop Draco from being a little upset. And maybe a little withdrawn. Besides, Harry looked less than perky himself, and it worried Draco. He was on edge about this relationship . . . or whatever it was supposed to be.
"No," he said. He didn't look at Harry. But then he felt warm fingers under his chin and he was forced to do so, and less than a second later Harry was kissing him. When Harry pulled away he looked down. Draco touched his lips gently, feeling how they tingled in the aftermath of another breathtaking kiss. "What was that for?"
"To reassure myself."
A lump seemed to form in Draco's throat. What was that supposed to mean?
"Of what?" he asked, hearing the harsh tone in his own voice. Harry looked up at him briefly and then back down. Draco's eyebrows knitted.
"That I'm doing the right thing."
Draco stood up so quickly that his head spun. Harry's eyes followed him, wide now, as though Draco had startled him. Draco's teeth ground together in irritation. He had to tell himself that sometimes Harry said stupid things . . . sometimes he worded things badly. He wasn't all that diplomatic or tactful.
"What?" he asked. His hands froze on his thighs, as though he was afraid that, should he move, he might scare Draco away. This angered him further.
"What does that even mean? Are you unsure whether you want to be . . . helping me with . . . or meeting . . ." He realized he had no idea how to word it. Or even which part of this whole situation Harry had been referring to. The kissing, the . . . the eating thing, or . . .
Harry stood up cautiously, never taking his eyes off Draco, and Draco frowned. He didn't move, however, when Harry came up to him, though he tried to hide the fact that his breathing sped up considerably.
"Don't flip your lid, okay?" Harry said softly, but when he tried to reach out and touch Draco's shoulder, the boy twisted it out of the way. Harry's forehead creased and for the first time he began to look a little ticked off. "Look, Malfoy, you can't just expect me to know what you're thinking. Why the hell are you getting all prickly again?"
"Prickly?" he spat and took a step back. Harry looked utterly baffled and this served to further enrage Draco. "Are you unaware of what you just said to me?"
"No, I told you that I was -"
"That you're unsure whether you want to be doing . . . this," he said fiercely, gesturing between them. Harry looked up at the ceiling with narrowed eyes as if to ask it, Is he joking?
"All I said was that I was reassuring myself!" he yelled, and Draco's eyes went wide. He felt his blood boiling, felt it simmering the way it always had when Potter made him angry. Harry himself looked like he was getting pissed.
"Well that's really comforting, Potter! It's good to know that someone who's supposed to be helping me isn't sure that he’s doing the right thing!"
Harry looked both shocked and upset. Like he hadn't the slightest clue as to what Draco was talking about. Draco heard himself growl.
"If you'd stop being such a fucking girl for a second, Malfoy, and listen to me, you wouldn't jump to such absurd conclusions!"
Draco's jaw dropped. "That's right, Potter!" he shouted, causing Harry to stumble backward a step. "Play at my sore spots! I tell you crap I've never told anyone and you use it against me! That's really fucking noble of you!"
"What the fuck are you talking about?!" Draco watched as Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again he looked a bit calmer. "Look, I don't know why you just got so angry, but all I meant was that I'm sort of confused right now because my friends aren't happy about me running off to see you all the time. I got in a fight with Ron and he's not even speaking to me right now."
Draco thought that if it were possible for steam to come out of his ears, the bathroom would be a giant cloud of angry smoke right about now. Harry seemed to sense this because his face went pale.
"Malfoy, I -"
"Just get out of here, Potter!" he screamed, and he was trying desperately to hold back the tears that were pressing relentlessly at the corners of his eyes. He should have known this was too good to last very long. Weasley was upset, and Potter was backing down. How very typical. Well, he wasn't about to sit through it any longer. "Go back to your idiot friend and tell him not to worry because you won't be running off with the big bad girly Death Eater anymore!"
"Malfoy -" Harry began quietly, but Draco cut him off.
"Get out, Potter!"
And suddenly Harry looked like he'd been betrayed by his best friend. Crestfallen. Draco stood his ground, even though every fiber of his being was screaming at him to run over and kiss the idiot Gryffindor. Even though the idiot Gryffindor wasn't so sure whether he was willing to deal with a bit of shit from his "loyal" Weasel in order to spend time with someone whom he'd claimed to really want to help. And kiss.
“Will you jus t-”
“OUT!”
Harry glared at Draco for another moment before grabbing his Cloak and storming out of the bathroom. Draco whipped out his wand without thinking and threw a hex at the door, one which did absolutely nothing, but it felt good nevertheless.
The weight of the food from earlier felt heavier than ever. In a fit of rage he ran over to a stall, bent oover the toilet, and stuck his fingers as far down his throat as he could manage. They scraped the soft tissue and he vaguely tasted blood, but it took half the time to make himself gag. He suffered through the initial convulsions, thinking about Harry the whole time, knowing he was doing this not only because he hated himself for having pushed him away and fucked it up, but because he knew it would hurt the boy.
When the food came up and splashed into the water beneath him he felt the anxious clutch that had gripped his stomach since yesterday release a little and he hated himself all the more for it. He was so pathetic he couldn’t even keep food down for two days.
He wiped his mouth and staggered out of the stall, loathing himself more than he could remember doing in a while. Palms pressed into his eyes, he tried not to think about the cause of all this.
* * *
Pansy followed Draco into his dormitory and shut the door behind them. She stopped a few feet from his bed and gave him a gentle look. He’d brought his knees up to his chest and was hugging them, refusing to look at her.
“Draco,” she started softly. He didn’t respond. She hated seeing him like this: he was hurting so badly and she could practically feel it. This whole situation was unbearably confusing. First she’d been worried because he wasn’t eating and he was puking his guts up - not that that had been something new - and now it was something else as well. She just didn’t know what. Yesterday he’d eaten at breakfast, and today he’d had breakfast and dinner. It had something to do with this new . . . situation, she just couldn’t figure it out. It had occurred to her that it might have something to do with this new “somebody” he was fawning over, but she couldn’t figure that out, either. It was unbelievably frustrating, especially since she had no one to punch in the face for hurting her boy. Because that was clearly what had happened. She was a girl, after all, and girls could sense these things.
She sat on the bed beside Draco and placed a hand on his knee.
“What happened?”
Draco stayed silent. Pansy sighed.
“Does it have to do with this boy you won’t tell me about?”
Draco’s body tensed in response; it was as good as a “yes.”
“I still don’t know who it is, so you don’t have to worry about that. Can you just tell me what happened so I can at least . . . I don’t know, comfort you or something? Merlin, Draco, I hate seeing you like this.”
Draco finally looked up. Pansy managed a weak smile. He didn’t smile back, but he bit his lip and brought a hand up to cover hers on his knee. Then he looked at her - a harsh stare that very nearly unnerved her - and seemed to come to a conclusion.
“Pansy,” he said, and she nodded as if to urge him to continue. “Please don’t throw a fit.”
Her heart raced. Was he going to tell her? She had to keep from smiling excitedly.
“I’m serious,” he said. “If you tell anyone, or . . . or do anything to let him know I told you, or make a scene in any way, I’ll . . . so help me God, Pansy, I’ll tell your mum you fucked a Muggle.” Pansy only glared, choosing not to dignify that with a response. “Swear to me you won’t-”
“Good God, Draco, I won’t say a thing! Will you tell me already?!”
Draco swallowed and looked away, squeezing her hand beneath his.
“Potter,” he said finally. Pansy felt her mouth go dry.
“. . . What?”
He looked at her. “Harry Potter. I’m . . . I like Potter. . . . A lot. And I’ve been meeting him in the Prefects’ bathroom for about two weeks now. It’s been him helping me with . . . Why I ate yesterday and today. And the other day he kissed me, and I can’t stop thinking about him, and just a few minutes ago he told me . . .” Draco sighed heavily and brought both hands up to cover his eyes, pressing his palms into them. Pansy watched, feeling as though she might cry, as her usually composed friend broke down in front of her. “He essentially said he wasn’t sure he was doing the right thing.” He dropped his hands and Pansy saw there were a few smeared tears on his cheeks just below his eyes. “The Weasel isn’t talking to him, apparently. Because of me. And Merlin knows the Giant Squid comes before a Death Eater on Potter’s List of Priority People.”
“You’re not a Death Eater,” Pansy said quietly, rubbing his back now. She was trying to keep any shock out of her voice. This was difficult due to the fact that Draco had just confessed to having a crush on Harry Potter, along with the fact that apparently they’d done a bit of snogging, but it didn’t keep her from feeling horrible for her best friend. Or angry at Potter for doing what was typical of him and all Gryffindors.
Draco glared at her and ripped his sleeve up his arm, exposing the very black, very-much-still-there Dark Mark that marred his pale arm. Pansy looked away.
“No matter what happens between us, I’ll always be the son of the Dark Lord’s right hand man; the boy he hated for seven years; the Death Eater who let Greyback and Bellatrix and all the others into the school. I’ll always be associated with the Dark Lord and the opposite side of the war. And his friends will always hate me.” His angry sneer had disappeared and been replaced with greatest despair. Pansy wrapped her arms around him, able to think of nothing else to do, and hugged him to her chest. Draco hugged her back and said into her ear, “He has a boyfriend, Pansy. It’s a miracle anything transpired in the first place. I can’t believe I let that happen.”
Pansy pulled away and held Draco’s arms, forcing him to look at her.
“Do you know what I think?” she said. He frowned.
“Do I want to know?”
She smiled reassuringly. “I think you and Potter make sense.” A look of incredulity crossed his face. “No, really. Now that I think about it, I kind of can’t believe I never saw it before. You two have always fought. There was bound to be something there, right? I mean, why else would two people care so much what the other thought?”
“Pans, I don’t think it was like tha -”
“Nonsense, it makes all the sense in the world.” She reached out to wipe a tear from Draco’s face. He grimaced, as though ashamed he’d cried. “Someone like Harry Potter won’t be satisfied for long with someone like Anthony Goldstein. Potter craves hardship and adventure and a chase. A challenge. And let’s be honest, Draco, no one presents more of a challenge than you.”
He rolled his eyes but a smile tugged at his mouth.
“I think he’ll come around. Don’t get too distraught over it, yeah? If he was stupid enough to kiss you in the first place he’s stupid enough to come back for more, right?
“Hey!”
“I’m just being honest!”
Draco slapped her arm and she laughed. “Besides. If he’s managing to help with your . . . thing, then, well . . . I’m all right with him.” Draco blushed and looked down at his hands. “I know you hate me talking about it, but I’m not going to pretend it’s not there anymore. You can deny it, but I’m not. At least Potter’s trying to help.” She leaned in again and hugged him. “I love you, Draco. Anyone who can make you happy is worth fighting for, I think.”
“What should I do?” he whispered. Once again, Pansy pulled away.
“Let him come back to you.”
Chapter Eleven | Page of Contents | Chapter Twelve