While You Slept

He was watching me when I finally woke. I'm not entirely sure why, but he didn't look away when my eyes met his. He usually did...

"It's not polite to stare, Potter," I mumbled, forcing myself out of bed. He quickly looked away. Merlin, I inwardly sighed. Would he never figure it out? Why couldn't he make some sort of move to let me know if he was interested in me or not.

I jumped in the shower, ignoring his mess, and just stood under the water, letting it run over me as if it could wash away every doubt, every imperfection, every wrong thing I had so that I could maybe be perfect for him. That was all I wanted after all...to be perfect for him.

"Can't you clean up your mess, Potter," I asked after I had finished putting things away. "It's a bloody disaster in there." I was exaggerating, of course. All that was wrong in there were his clothes on the floor and his toothpaste mess. Oh, and his contact stuff was left out as well. "When a person wants a shower, they want a clean shower to take it in."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he demanded furiously. "Is this about last night?"

"This is about you being a bloody slob. Take care of yourself. You're 17 for crying out loud! Why is it so bloody hard for you?"

"Why does everything have to be so perfect for you? You're not! Is that why? You have a perfect image--not a damn thing is wrong with you--and apparently so does everything abound you! You are not perfect, you never have been, and you never will be! Me, my things, my sleep have to be perfect for you! Why do you care so much?"

"Why ask questions you already know the answers to?"

"I need you to say it."

"I can't."

"Why?"

I sat down on my bed. "I don't know," I said to the floor.

He walked over and crouched down in front of me. "Why not?" he asked, gently turning my face to look at him.

My heart raced. My breath stopped in my chest. He was too close, far too close. Why did he have to be so close to me?

"Draco?"

I closed my eyes and turned away from him again. That was my name. That was my name coming from his lips. It was his voice saying my name, and it wasn't out of hatred or anger or spite. Just how I imagined it would be....

"Please," he asked again, taking my chin and turning my face to his again. "Please, say it just once?"

I wanted to, Merlin, did I want to. And the need in his voice made me want to do so even more, but I couldn't. We couldn't.

I wanted to kiss him. My gaze drifted down to his slightly parted lips. My heart pounded in my chest, causing it to thunder in my ears. I moved closer, not enough to touch, but almost, but I stopped before I got myself in too deep.

"No," I whispered. "No!" I nearly yelled, pushing him back. He fell on his ass and stared up at me shocked.

"God damnit, why?" he shouted, standing.

"I can't," I insisted.

"Why?"

"Don't know why you're interested," I replied spitting his words back at him. "Not like you care."

He looked ready to kill me because of that statement. "Thank you for reminding me why I've hated you for seven years."

"Not quite seven, Potter," I said with a slight shake of my head. "Not quite seven."

"Well excuse me for getting it wrong."

"Not a problem," I said leaving him behind.

I sat between Blaise and Pansy at breakfast that morning, glorious Saturday that it was. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had a Quidditch match today, and we would have to miss it due to a meeting of Harry, Granger and I with Dumbledore. I really didn't want to go to the meeting. Didn't want to really see Harry after recent events.

"Alright," Blaise said setting his fork next to his plate. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," I replied. "Nothing at all."

"Nothing?" he asked, not believing me in the slightest. "Try the truth this time."

"The truth?" I asked. "Potter. He knows."

"How does he know? You didn't tell him, did you?"

"Of course I didn't tell him, you great oaf. I did, however, slip last night and say something he looked at too closely."

"You slipped?" he asked. "Why?"

"He forgot his potion."

"What did you say?"

"I said I cared. He hasn't shut up about it since."

"What else has he said?"

I shook my head. "I haven't really been paying attention. You know how I get."

He gave me a smirk. "Oh, I know alright," he said slightly seductive. "I know. Anyway," he said changing the subject. "You should tell him."

I stared at him in shock. "Are you insane?" I asked. "You want me to tell him? Christ," I breathed. "How can you even suggest that?"

"How can I not?" he asked. "It's obvious how you two feel about eachother."

"I--" was interrupted by the owl post.

My father's eagle owl dropped a letter on my empty plate and flew away, not waiting for a response.

I opened the green envelope and stared at the words written there in shock.

"You want to know why I can't?" I asked.

"Why?" he asked. "What does it say?"

I handed him the letter. "Dear son," he read aloud.

"I am pleased to inform you that your future is secured in the matter of marriage," he continued confused. He mouthed the words silently for the next few lines and looked up at me bewildered. "You're getting married?" he asked. "To some girl you've never met? Why?"

"To ensure the family lives on. I'm the last Malfoy son, if I end the line, we die."

"Not necessarily. You can still be with him, all you have to do is adopt."

"They know I'm going to resist this. They know I'm gay."

"I know they know. I was there, remember? Still, this isn't a now thing. This is a future thing. You still have time to get them to change their mind. Besides, you can adopt."

"No I can't. They won't be Malfoys. Not by blood anyway. They have to be Malfoys by blood in order for the line to carry on. Besides, when was the last time you ever heard of a Malfoy adopting someone?"

"I haven't," he confessed.

"I'm stuck, you see?" I continued. "I can't be with him while I have this hanging over my head, and I can't be truly happy with her. I can't get out of this."

"You can, and you will. Have kids with her, get a divorce."

"No. That's even more unheard of. No one in my family has ever had a divorce, and none of them would even consider it. Unlike adoption, where it would be considered, at the very least."

"Then have an affair."

"Can't do that either. Do you have any idea how quickly shit like that gets out into the open in this family? My father's had three affairs in the last two years--all of them with the same person, and my mother's had eight in the last five--four of them with the same person. It's out in the open now, but they can't get a divorce. It's like Malfoy cardinal sin to do such a thing. Neither of them would dare."

"Why can't they have more kids?"

"Would you be with someone you knew was cheating on you?"

"No."

"Point proven," I replied. "I have no way out of this one."

"But your father could have another child with his mistress."

"So soon to assume, Blaise. My father isn't with a woman. And besides, even if he were, a child would be illegitimate. No claim to the Malfoy throne, therefore, no claim to the Malfoy blood."

"I'm suddenly glad I'm not a Malfoy."

"What a surprise."

The teams from both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff stood to leave, earning cheers from their Houses and other supporters. As soon as the teams departed from the Hall, I could get my first really clear view of the Golden Trio of the morning. I think I spend more time watching them than I do actually being involved in whatever else I'm doing.

"I'm going to the pitch," Blaise said standing. "Find me if you get out of your meeting in time."

"Sure," I replied, still watching them. Weasel's got up from the table and followed the crowd of students leaving for the game. I think he's the biggest Quidditch fan I'll ever meet. But the best player by far goes to Harry. Merlin, when he was off the team in fifth year, they were so easy to crush. It was pathetic. But when Ginny changed to a Chaser position, Harry got his place back and winning became impossible again. I love it.

The three of us stayed at our tables for a while longer before all of us stood at once to go to Dumbledore's office.