Love Me, Love Me Not

Chap. 02 - Behind Enemy Lines

"So this is it," Fred said sternly. He landed his red flying Ferrari on Harry's front yard, watching for Muggles. The red-haired man looked around and disabled the invisibility button. Then he looked at Draco with a mischievous grin. "Oh, come on, blond princess! Don't tell me you're still sulking about this!" Fred teased. "You know you'll fucking love spending time with Harry."

Draco scowled and showed Fred his middle finger. "You think it's so amusing, but it's the tragedy of my short life."

"It isn't amusing. It's fucking brilliant!" Fred exclaimed, clasping Draco's shoulder and bringing the blond closer until their lips were only inches away. "You need this. Harry needs this. Hell, Bill deserves this."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Bill?"

Fred looked deeply into Draco's eyes. "Yes, my dear brother Bill. He loves you, blondie." Draco felt his heart pounding hard against his chest. "He wants to have you all to himself."

Draco smirked. Bill had told him that already, but Draco couldn't believe him. He didn't believe in love. Sex and lust were trustworthy. Love wasn't.

"So, sending me here is a way to show me all his love," Draco sneered.

"Yes, it is. It was very hard on him," Fred said seriously. "But he - and I - think that you have to deal with your feelings for Harry once and for all, Draco." Draco opened his mouth to violently deny such things as "feelings for Harry", but Fred was faster, "You're in denial, and it is cute. But Bill deserves more than that. And so do you. And Harry." Fred smiled and said playfully, "Harry won't know what hit him..."

Draco didn't bother to reply. For all he knew, Harry Potter was so straight it was boring. But he wouldn't argue with Fred. It was useless anyway. He just sneered and got out of the car, slamming the door with all his might. Fred let out an 'ouch', but didn't get angry with him. Fred never got angry with Draco. Draco's outbursts were very amusing to the Weasley twins.

"Good luck, gorgeous!" Fred winked and then started the car.

Draco felt an urge of panic as he watched the red Ferrari gaining speed and flying away, but he held himself in check. He could always Apparate if things got really bad - as he imagined they would. He took a deep breath and looked at the sinister house Harry Potter lived in. Number twelve, Grimmauld Place. The Black's Residence. Draco shivered as he felt a cold breeze crawling through his clothes.

If Grimmauld Place looked creepy and abandoned before, it looked even worse now. Draco couldn't understand why any living being would choose to live in that house, but he could guess the reason why Harry had chosen it. For someone angry and depressed with the world, Grimmauld Place was the perfect place to be.

Draco remembered very well how horrible the mansion was on the inside. In the old and glorious days of the Blacks it had been beautifully decorated and richly ornamented. But now it was just an empty shell of what once represented the Blacks' power. There were portraits who shrieked like Banshees. It was dark and dirty even though Mrs. Weasley had tried to make it liveable when the place was the Order's hideout.

Draco could only imagine Harry's state of mind, living alone in that big house for so long. Harry was probably going mad, just like Sirius Black. Perhaps that was Harry's intention all along. Perhaps the raven-haired man wanted to join his godfather.

And with so many dark thoughts, Draco wondered once again what he was doing there. He didn't belong in there. His presence wouldn't help Harry. That stupid idea of sending him over was only Hermione getting desperate.

Draco had a life now, a real life - not a phoney spoiled-brat life such as he had in the past. This time he was doing the right thing. He had a good relationship with Bill - or so he had thought. They weren't exactly a couple, but they were getting there. Fred had just reaffirmed him that Bill loved him. Then why was Draco there? This encounter with Harry Potter could ruin him. It could destroy every little thing he had worked so hard to build in his life. He had had a crush on the Boy-Who-Lived while they were fighting side by side for the Order. That didn't mean anything anymore. He had passed that stupid phase. He didn't care if Harry lived or died.

But he knew he was only lying to himself. He did care. Bill knew him too well. Draco hated his lover for handing him just like that to another man, but at the same time, he understood. Bill just wanted him to make up his mind once and for all. Bill wanted him to figure out his true feelings before making a commitment to him. Not that Draco wanted a commitment, but he did like Bill.

He also needed closure. His thing with Harry had always dragged on. Harry probably didn't have a clue, but Draco knew exactly how much it ached to be in love with his enemy.

He clenched his fists to stop his hands from trembling and walked towards the door. It seemed to take forever to get there.

"So this is it," he muttered with what he hoped was a half-hearted smile. He pulled out his wand and tapped on the door.

------------------------

Harry tucked his head under his pillow the moment he heard the portrait of Sirius' mother screaming downstairs. He should have tried harder to destroy the bloody life-sized picture of the old hag, or at least tried to move it to another room.

The old woman had improved her vocabulary of curse words over the years, and Harry had only himself to blame. He used to pass by her swearing like a mad man and they had verbal battles all the time. He found it a disturbing - but funny - way of passing the time. In a way, those encounters made him feel alive. But today he had a terrible hangover. If she didn't stop he would try the killing curse on her.

And who the hell was at the door? He bet it was Hermione, ready to lecture him once more. It was her favourite hobby. As if she had nothing better to do as an Auror. She would rather annoy him about his awful life-style than work properly like she should. But then again, Ron had told him that her partner was none other than Draco bloody Malfoy, so he felt a little sympathetic towards her. Who would want to pair up with Malfoy?

The painting on the wall wouldn't stop screaming unless he got out of bed to see who was at the door. He carefully stood up, but it didn't make the world stop spinning. His head felt heavy and his eyes out of focus.

The path between his bedroom and the front door seemed endless. By the time he reached the last step, his shouts and curses were matching the old hag's shrieks.

He sent a threatening look at the screaming portrait and shouted, "SHUT UP, OLD WOMAN! DO YOU WANT ME TO TURN YOU INTO ASHES? BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT YOU WILL GET IF YOU DON'T SHUT YOUR FILTHY MOUTH!"

She didn't usually obey him, but today she curiously did. Harry raised an eyebrow at her and then he looked at himself in the mirror close to the door. He looked terrible. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was like the living-dead. His nasty appearance was probably the reason why the old witch had quieted all of a sudden. He sniggered. If that was enough to scare the old hag, it should be enough to scare whoever was at the other side of the door.

He unlocked the door and opened it, and his words were out before he even made sure of whom it was, "Hermione, I appreciate your concern, but don't you have something better to do with your time? I'm doing fine and-"

"You don't look fine at all, Potter," a drawling voice cut across him.

Harry opened his eyes wide as he stared at Draco Malfoy. The shock of seeing his enemy for the first time after four years paralysed him. His eyes roamed over every inch of Draco. The blond looked different, but he couldn't quite place what was different about him. His eyes kept scanning Draco's body. The muggle clothes stunned and confused Harry. He was wearing tight and discoloured blue jeans, a black T-shirt and a white jacket. They fit him well. The blonde's hair was impeccably combed and neat, and a silver lock was covering one of Draco's icy blue eyes. And then he noticed what was different about Draco. It was his eyes. They weren't as cold as Harry remembered. They looked rather intense, fiery and... human.

Harry was so astonished that he didn't notice Draco's own shock. Draco couldn't believe that this poor excuse of a human being was the same Harry Potter he had gone to school with. Harry was even thinner than he remembered. The raven hair had never looked messier. Harry was wearing old and loose pyjama pants that looked like they would fall down at any minute. His chest was bare, but not as attractive as in Draco's dreams. Harry was too thin. And it was Harry's eyes that shocked him the most. The green eyes that once had been so lively were now empty - as if someone had turned them off.

"You changed," they muttered at the same time and then quieted.

It was an awkward moment. They didn't know how to react to each other's presence. Finally, Harry's angry voice broke the silence, "What the hell are you doing here, Malfoy?"

Draco's bright smile almost blinded Harry. "I'm your guardian angel for the month, Potter."