Obsession

Chap. 3 - CALL IT TORTURE

The next day, Harry wouldn't look at me. I figured he was scared about what had happened or what he was feeling about the whole thing. I couldn't help but feel very pissed off so I just continued to play the game. Granger and I spent another afternoon together, and everyone else felt jealous of her. Everyone, except Harry.

Granger told me to keep trying and I was ready to do that, but then I saw Harry talking to one of the Gryffindor girls - I think her name was Padma. I didn't give a fuck about her. All I noticed was that the bitch was holding Harry's hand and that crushed my heart.

I wondered what she would think if I told her that Harry had kissed me the previous day.

Harry enlaced her hand in his and smiled. Then he looked straight at me with challenge written all over his face. I wanted so much to kick his ass. He had the absolute nerve! His eyes seemed to be telling me that now we were even. I'd dated Granger; he'd dated one of the twin sisters.

I waited for his next move, and I knew exactly what it would be, but that didn't help to diminish the pain when I saw it happening right in front of me. The bloody bastard kissed her. And he used his tongue.

I felt like someone had suddenly cut off my air and I couldn't breathe no matter how much I tried. Someone caught my hand and led me out of the castle.

"Breathe, Malfoy!" I heard the person asking.

And so I did. And I cried.

"I'm so sorry."

I looked up and saw Granger looking at me with sadness. I didn't want her pity. I wanted nobody's pity. Draco Malfoy was better and stronger than she thought. Then why couldn't I stop the tears from falling down?

"I think Harry is just confused."

I didn't care. I wanted him to die and if she wouldn't kill him, then she was useless to me. She held me, which was weird. I wasn't used to people touching me. I didn't like to be touched. But somehow, her arms around me made me feel calmer. She was a good girl. She was the kind of girl who should be treated with respect. She was good. How many people did I know who were good for real? No one. I needed a person like her around me. Maybe I would be good, too. Maybe Harry would want me if I were good. Maybe...

That night, as I went to bed, I thanked Granger for being who she was.

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The torture went on for a week. Harry kept playing his perverse game with me. He particularly liked to kiss Parvati - I had learned her name, after all, one should always know the enemy's name - in front of me, which made me very upset and depressed.

He was winning, I had to admit it. And he was enjoying watching me suffer. I could tell that just by looking at his pleased face. I hated him for it. I hated everything about him. I... I was hurt.

Granger was the one who called my attention. She said I was behaving exactly like Harry wanted me to and it was time to strike back. I was a Malfoy and I shouldn't let Harry win. Where was my competitive and vindictive spirit, she asked me. She was right. She was totally right. I kissed her on the lips to thank her and she flushed slightly.

I was immersed in self-pity, and that pathetic and helpless guy wasn't me at all. I was a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake! I should be able to fight it. I should be able to come up with something to make Harry feel very sorry for what he was doing to me.

I went back to my previous plan and Granger and I went on dates every day. I stopped walking in the hallways with my head down and all I did was smile. I smiled at everybody, even Weasley. I was trying to make people think that I was madly in love with Hermione Granger and that her love had changed me.

It worked. There wasn't a single person in the whole school who didn't talk about us. We were the most envied couple of the year. People started telling me all the time how perfect we were together and Granger was enjoying all the extra attention, even though sometimes she complained that all the activity didn't allow her to study properly.

Harry noticed my change. He noticed and I could feel at every glare that he hated it. In Potions' class, he stared at me with such a look... if looks could kill, I would have dropped dead on the spot. In exchange, I shot him one of my famous smiles. His cauldron exploded that day and I felt very pleased.

The control of the game was back in my hands. Life was good. I would be the torturer now.

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I was very good with the torturer role. Harry didn't even compare. The only problem was Granger. She didn't like my rules. I did see her point. I was used to grabbing her in front of him and Weasley and touch her in places she didn't allow me to. But I had to be aggressive, otherwise it wouldn't work. Harry had to see that I didn't give a damn about him.

I wrote a love letter to Granger, letting it imply that we had slept together and that I had loved every minute of it. Then I let the letter drop when Harry was passing by. I knew he would pick it up and I knew for certain that he would read it.

For two days I expected him to come see me. He didn't though. I wondered if the plan had backfired and I awaited the slap that Granger would certainly give me. That didn't happen either.

On the third day he showed up in my room. How he got in I had no idea. He was Harry Potter. He could do anything.

"What are you doing here, Potter?"

"I came here to break your face," he explained calmly. Too calm for my taste.

"I didn't invite you in."

"I don't need an invitation."

I carefully sat next to him on my bed. Harry scared me. He didn't use to scare me, but now he did. It was the darkness in his eyes that had never been there before. I wish I could read him just like in the old days.

"You slept with her, you son of a bitch!" he said, this time more aggressively.

"How do you know?"

"That's irrelevant."

I raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"You're such a bloody liar! I thought you wanted me."

He didn't look at me when he said that.

"And you're bloody mental if you think I'll just sit around and wait for you to decide whether you want me or not! I'm sick of this game, Potter, and I'm sick of you! Just go to hell and fry! And get the hell out of my bedroom!" I exploded.

It was too much pressure and the weekend hadn't been easy for me. I raised my wand so my action could look more serious. I didn't want him out, not really. But if he hadn't decided what he wanted, then I didn't want him in my bed.

"Are you going to hex me?" he asked, amused.

He was amused. I didn't want him to be that way; I wanted him to be frightened. In anger, I shouted a boil hex at him. He deflected it - to my bad luck - and stared at me with loathing. What did he expect? That I would kiss him or something? Of course I would attack him for real. I was bloody Draco Malfoy! I could do anything I wanted!

He quickly grabbed me by my robe and lay me down on my bed, pinning my hands on the mattress. Fuck, I felt so turned on when he did this. An unbearable heat took over my body.

"You shouldn't have done that," he said, staring at me with a mix of hate and desire.

"What are you going to do about it?" I taunted.

If he thought that I would be scared by his actions, he was so wrong.

"I should rip your guts out."

"Kiss me," I demanded with urgency.

"Fuck you."

"That will do, too," I dared to say it.

He captured my lips in a breathtaking kiss and I surrendered willingly to it. Once, I had wanted to ravish Harry Potter. Now he was ravishing me and I was enjoying it. A lot. This time he used his tongue and it was damn good.

"How do you do this to me?" he asked.

"Do what?"

"I'm not myself when I'm with you."

He looked more than just adorably perplexed when he said this.

"You haven't been around me much to know this for sure. And I don't want you to be somebody else when we're together. I want you to be yourself."

Did I really say that? Yep, I think I did. I guess I was the one who was not myself when he was around. Or maybe that was the real me, and I could only be real with him. Ugh! That sounded so bloody sappy... Next thing I knew I would be telling him that we were meant to be. Merlin! Stop this, Draco!

"I'm gonna kiss you again," he felt like he needed to warn me. So sweet.

"Just do it, Potter."

And he did. I rubbed my body against his and he stopped kissing me.

"Don't do this," he pleaded.

"But I-"

"I'm not ready for this."

"Ok. We can go slowly."

I was being soft. Dammit!

"This is so wrong."

Here we go.

"I mean, you're a guy. It's wrong for me to kiss you like this."

Go to hell you and your Middle Age mentality.

"Get off me, Potter."

He only stared at me.

"I said, get off!" I shouted.

"Is this how you want to help me, Malfoy?" he asked venomously. "By taking me into your bed?"

Fuck him! He was trying to make me feel guilty. Well, I wouldn't give him the pleasure.

"I've changed my mind," I stated.

What was I doing?

"I don't want to help you anymore because I think you're a hopeless case!" I yelled.

What was I doing? Pushing him away like that. I didn't want to do that. I didn't.

"Dumbledore said you volunteered to help me." He let it drop like a bomb.

Fuck! Dumbledore said what? The old man was smarter than I thought. Father had always told me that Dumbledore was an incompetent fool but boy, was he wrong. Dumbledore knew stuff about you that even you didn't know about. And he was also a sadistic bastard who liked to play with your life. I couldn't blame him though. I had lied about the whole thing and he was just paying me back. I started it and he just threw me back the Quaffle. Harry thought I had volunteered. I wished I had done exactly that.

Then I looked at Harry and saw his lost expression and the green eyes I loved so much immersed in despair. Harry needed help. He didn't need lies; he didn't need my stupid game. He needed a friend. He needed someone who understood what he was going through. He had accepted my offer because he thought I knew what it was like to be dark. And he was right. But I was an egoistic asshole who had been thinking only about my needs and myself. Not once had I thought about what Harry needed. And boy, he needed someone to hold him, someone to say that cared for him. He didn't need a lover, he needed a friend. And by some miracle, he wanted me to be that person.

I felt like shit. I knew how to be a good lover but I knew nothing about being a good friend. I never had a real friend in my entire life. What was I supposed to do?

"I don't know how to be a friend," I explained, not sure why. "I never have."

He smiled sadly.

"I can show you."

This time I smiled. It wasn't an open smile, just an ordinary one.

"I was supposed to be the one helping you," I sneered.

"Maybe by helping you, I'll be helping myself."

It was a very profound sentence. I liked it. The question was: could he do it? Could I do it? I wasn't so sure. I wasn't used to being friendly to anyone. I never had to. And being friends with Harry... it wasn't exactly what I had planned. But that would have to do. For now, anyway.