Seamus is Seamus and You are Yourself
- Story Summary:
- Harry goes through some er... changes in his Sixth Year and everyone, including Draco Malfoy, sits up and takes notice.
- Chapter Summary:
- Harry goes through some er... changed is his Sixth Year. Everyone, including Draco Malfoy, sits up and takes notice...
SEAMUS IS SEAMUS AND YOU ARE YOURSELF 2:
I, as a Malfoy, have always looked for outward beauty in all things, as my father has done. I have always had the most beautiful, most expensive possessions, my clothes have always been specifically cut to fit me. My father chose my mother based on her heritage and looks, and I have inherited both my mother's beauty and my father's yearning for beautiful things.
So I was the first to notice Potter's change. I pride myself on this fact, even though I can't tell anyone about it- ever the cool, detached Malfoy- I noticed before anyone else did, before anyone else began to want him. I. Was. FIRST.
Potter began to change towards the end of our Fifth Year. I don't know what it was- perhaps he had just grown up. I thought at first it was simply in my mind- I was perhaps trying to justify why I spent so much time on him- because nobody else save me seemed to see it. But I quickly realised it was because I had been trained to notice it. My other, stupider and uneducated peers never notice anything.
But that was Fifth Year. Now Potter has returned, considerably taller, with a new haircut and no awful spectacles. And people have begun to sit up and take notice. Potter becoming what he has become has confused my fellow Slytherins to an enormous extent. The majority of them have been taught from birth to despise Potter and all he stands for. And now, despite this, they all want to fuck him. The first few weeks of Sixth Year were filled with every one of my housemates scowling at Harry in a confused manner, before holding their breaths when he laughed.
Apart from a few silly girls in the lower years, Blaise is the only older Slytherin who goes on and ON about him- the others (including me) just keep our own, usually dark little fantasies inside our own heads. But Blaise won't shut the hell up, AND he's in my dormitory. If I have to spend one more night with him groaning on about how he HAS to have Harry I'll bash his fucking brains in.
And that article in Witch Weekly. I shudder to think how many times Blaise has wanked off to it, I swear- not to mention everyone else in the school. But I have to admit that Potter's physique is just as good as the bits you DO see everyday.
I should be so jealous of him. I was, at first. It seemed infuriating that Potter had yet again beaten me in some way. He bests me in Quidditch, he interrupts my, I must say, extremely devious plans at every turn, goes against the Dark Lord and comes back unscathed. And he's so good, so noble, it made me sick. Now, I thought, he had become better looking than me. He couldn't even leave me that. Before then, even though everyone loved Harry, I was the one they all wanted to fuck. Even Pansy, who's adored me for years, has changed camps. Not that I valued her affection; but at least I knew it was there, if I ever needed my ego boosting. Now, she follows Potter with her eyes and then asks me what my father and his friends have got planned for him. She's a sick bitch, I swear. She snorted over the Witch Weekly article but I noticed her carefully fold up the magazine afterwards and slip it into the pocket of her robes.
My only consolation on this score was the fact that Potter had absolutely no clue that everyone is in lust with him. I've heard him protest a dozen times to that Granger girl that no-one liked him at all, and that she was imagining all of it. It was rather amusing to see the frustrated look on her face, I must say. At least, I thought, only I know how he's beaten me again. There also seems no shame in wanting him-Christ, even McGonagall fancies him in her way, and- disturbing as it may seem- Snape blatantly wants to push him up against the nearest wall. I've seen him in Potions look at Potter with a glazed, slightly confused look before he shakes himself back to his usual scowl.
The only one who seems completely exempt is Dumbledore. He watched everything with that goddamned twinkle in his eye- he enjoys the messed up feelings of his colleagues. He thinks it's fucking funny.
But hey, when you're his age, I suppose you have to think everything is funny. Otherwise you can't really carry on.
But it's changed, for me. I don't know why, exactly. I know why I want Potter, just like everyone else in the wizarding world. I always have the best things and Potter is the most gorgeous person of either gender I've ever seen- but I knew that was coming,
I knew before anyone else did. But now...
I don't just want to fuck Potter. I want to know him.
Jesus. You know how hard that is for me to admit to? I'm not meant to feel like this, I wasn't built this way... but every time I get close to him the fucking tiniest violin in the world starts playing its little melody just for me The birds start singing. It's a wonderful fucking day.
I don't know why this is. Myself, and Slytherins in general don't have time for little virgins. Which of course Potter blatantly is. You might find that hard to believe- I do too, sometimes- but I've realised that nobody here feels worthy of him. They don't think they're good enough for him. Jesus.
As I said, Slytherins never normally want a virgin. They don't want it all lovey-dovey, rose petals on the pillow and waking up in your one true love's arms the next morning. We don't want to teach, be gentle, be understanding. We want someone who won't break, and doesn't expect kind words.
Leave the sentimental shit for the Gryffindors. They're so noble, they actually think you should be in love before you sleep together- or at least think you are. Except Finnegan of course. But Finnegan... is... well, he's just Finnegan, alright? Ravenclaws are easier, although clinical. They see it as a bit of a learning experience, they want to better themselves, and are willing to try most things, if only for research purposes. Hufflepuffs- let's not even go there. Just getting them to put the right bits in the right places is a bloody challenge.
So I know how each house's little fantasies about Harry go. Gryffindor would see it as loving and sweet. Ravenclaw, as a chance to work with the best, and so everything should be tried. Hufflepuffs... I'm not sure they think past the kissing, quite frankly.
Hard and rough, with restraints as a preferable option.
This is what worries me, what started off these sentimental thoughts on Harry in the first place. Because, despite what he has seen, what his background might be, Harry is still an innocent. He needs to be preserved.
I know he can't stay completely innocent for much longer- someone will make a move on him soon, I'm sure. I'm just praying it won't be a Slytherin. Hell, even a Hufflepuff would be a better option. Harry wouldn't understand pain, and dominance, and humiliation. He needs someone who cares for him, wants to be nice to him, perhaps even lo...
Fuck. There goes the little violin and bloody birds again.
Harry is as naïve as hell. Usually that would piss me off so much I would want to destroy it. But in Harry's case... he needs his innocence, that spark in his eyes that rings out true and clear, he needs it to remain himself. I don't want anyone ripping it away from him.
Let me tell you a little memory that remains for me the most Harryish moment I've ever witnessed.
It was towards the end of Fifth Year; and yet again Harry Potter and myself were fighting for no apparent reason. Just a few inches from Harry, who I had noticed by that time as becoming very heavenly, and was getting rather flushed through his anger, rather turned me on. Perhaps not the smartest thing to do, but it was only one little look, alright??
Anyway, just my luck that the mudblood had to go and notice. Her eyes widened, her mouth dropped open slightly, and she rushed after the rapidly disappearing Harry. All I could think was: fuck.
I followed them at a distance, but I didn't need to be too close to them to hear Granger, in that eardrum-shattering voice she adopts when she gets worked up, say:
"Harry! Malfoy was looking at you! I mean up and down! He FANCIES you!"
And Harry's reply, accompanied with a slight chuckle.
"Don't be silly 'Mione. He's a BOY." I mean, for fuck's sake. Doesn't that just sum up the innocence that is Harry Potter?
"Don't be silly 'Mione. He's a BOY."
If anyone other than Harry had uttered those words, I would be desperate to get hold of them and show them just exactly what a boy could do. But since it was Harry, something truly amazing happened to me- something that's never happened to me in my life before.
As in I felt all squadgy and happy. As in I thought what Potter had just said was endearing. And sweet. As in if little fluffy bunny rabbits had come hopping up the corridor, instead of trying to kill them I would have cooed "awww!" like a fucking seven-year-old future Hufflepuff.
I mean, really. I'm a MALFOY, for Christ's sake!
So why oh WHY does Harry make me feel this way?
That's why I'm pissed at Blaise. He's just desperate for a piece of Harry. But he wants it like all the other Slytherins want it. And he wants it badly enough to go on the offensive. He IS a Slytherin, after all.
Just as well I'M one as well, then. Lucky I'm sly, and devious, and crafty. I'm not going to let Harry Potter be tainted. He needs affection. He needs warmth. He needs...
Oh Christ. That little fucking violin just started playing again.
The bloody birds will be along soon. For fuck's sake!
Bloody fucking gorgeous Harry.