Harry Potter - future love
another Draco introspective. ::headdesk::
Future Love
While listening to the song Lover I Don’t Have to Love by Bright Eyes. Excellent song!
*
Draco hated being in love, even if it gave him a focus for his hatred. Love was so humiliating! He’d seen the way Blaise went out of his way to walk that Ravenclaw girl to class, seen him leaving his room in the guise of Harry Potter just so she could fuck a legend. It was horrid-and he’d been the one Blaise asked to steal Potter’s hair just so he could do it. Well, the scrap they’d gotten into made it worth it in Draco’s opinion-hadn’t Potter had to go to the infirmary?-but all the same, seeing Potter in Slytherin green made something inside of Draco twist in a way it shouldn’t.
And that was humiliating.
Draco’d been the one to make the potion, and that night, after Zabini left, he changed into Potter himself. He wanted to see if Potter’s locker room denials were really true, wanted to see what places on Potter hurt the worst, wanted to see what it was like to have the perfect body to fly. Yet when he transformed, he couldn’t do anything but touch himself, tease and test and stare at his reflection in the prefect bathroom mirror.
It was horrible. Draco wanted to see that face in the mirror, its lopsided glasses and rugged grin, its stupid green eyes and unkempt black hair (which Draco couldn’t tame no matter what spells he used, by the by. It was something to think about: if he ever did pursue Potter, he could never be seen in public with him unless he bought Potter a wardrobe to take eyes off of Potter’s hair.). He wanted to see it beside his own. Before Blaise left he’d asked him to stand at the mirror with him. Potter’s eyes looked sadly back at his through the glass. After Blaise left, the mirror said what a fine couple they made. It made him feel worse.
Draco wished he could be more like his father. His father loved his mother in his own way, but Draco was old enough to recognize that there was no passion or affection in their marriage. They’d had one child because they must. He felt that acutely. He knew his father and mother both had affairs outside the marriage. Draco wanted a marriage like that, a place to come home to when all the casual flings were properly cast aside. But Potter wouldn’t want that, Draco felt that too. And Draco knew that as much as he hated Potter, he...desired him...enough to want that for him.
After the Polyjuice wore off, Draco left the bathroom in a mood. He went to the quidditch pitch and flew around even though it was past curfew. He didn’t know if night flying was fine for prefects, but he didn’t care if he got detention for this. He thought about Potter, about their life together, about all the lovers he would have on the side and how that would twist inside Potter like a spell. He thought about the day Potter would leave him, and how he wouldn’t cry until Potter was out of the Manor for good. He thought about all the lovers he wouldn’t have to love that would come after, and how hollow they would make him feel.
Draco could never be like his father, he realized then. Not if he wanted Potter, too.
Future Love
While listening to the song Lover I Don’t Have to Love by Bright Eyes. Excellent song!
*
Draco hated being in love, even if it gave him a focus for his hatred. Love was so humiliating! He’d seen the way Blaise went out of his way to walk that Ravenclaw girl to class, seen him leaving his room in the guise of Harry Potter just so she could fuck a legend. It was horrid-and he’d been the one Blaise asked to steal Potter’s hair just so he could do it. Well, the scrap they’d gotten into made it worth it in Draco’s opinion-hadn’t Potter had to go to the infirmary?-but all the same, seeing Potter in Slytherin green made something inside of Draco twist in a way it shouldn’t.
And that was humiliating.
Draco’d been the one to make the potion, and that night, after Zabini left, he changed into Potter himself. He wanted to see if Potter’s locker room denials were really true, wanted to see what places on Potter hurt the worst, wanted to see what it was like to have the perfect body to fly. Yet when he transformed, he couldn’t do anything but touch himself, tease and test and stare at his reflection in the prefect bathroom mirror.
It was horrible. Draco wanted to see that face in the mirror, its lopsided glasses and rugged grin, its stupid green eyes and unkempt black hair (which Draco couldn’t tame no matter what spells he used, by the by. It was something to think about: if he ever did pursue Potter, he could never be seen in public with him unless he bought Potter a wardrobe to take eyes off of Potter’s hair.). He wanted to see it beside his own. Before Blaise left he’d asked him to stand at the mirror with him. Potter’s eyes looked sadly back at his through the glass. After Blaise left, the mirror said what a fine couple they made. It made him feel worse.
Draco wished he could be more like his father. His father loved his mother in his own way, but Draco was old enough to recognize that there was no passion or affection in their marriage. They’d had one child because they must. He felt that acutely. He knew his father and mother both had affairs outside the marriage. Draco wanted a marriage like that, a place to come home to when all the casual flings were properly cast aside. But Potter wouldn’t want that, Draco felt that too. And Draco knew that as much as he hated Potter, he...desired him...enough to want that for him.
After the Polyjuice wore off, Draco left the bathroom in a mood. He went to the quidditch pitch and flew around even though it was past curfew. He didn’t know if night flying was fine for prefects, but he didn’t care if he got detention for this. He thought about Potter, about their life together, about all the lovers he would have on the side and how that would twist inside Potter like a spell. He thought about the day Potter would leave him, and how he wouldn’t cry until Potter was out of the Manor for good. He thought about all the lovers he wouldn’t have to love that would come after, and how hollow they would make him feel.
Draco could never be like his father, he realized then. Not if he wanted Potter, too.