Obsession

Chap. 6 - CALL IT BLISS

That week was pure... bliss. Everyday I got out of my bed to meet Harry for breakfast. We talked, ate and teased each other. I even talked with Weasley in a civilized manner! I didn't mind sitting at the Gryffindor table, but I made sure that Harry sat at my house's table, too.

For everybody else in the school, we were just good friends. For Hermione and Ron, we were something that they couldn't classify. I mean, we weren't just friends since we kissed each other on the lips, and it wasn't just an innocent kiss, but an actual kiss. The kind of kiss shared between couples and lovers. The kind of kiss that makes your spirit high and your soul clean of all of your sins. His kisses were my redemption but also my punishment, my pleasure and my pain.

We went to my room with the excuse of studying and spent the rest of the day making out. I wasn't allowed to touch him in a more intimate way, but somehow I didn't care. I wanted to court Harry as if we were living in the last century. I liked taking it slow with him. I felt like one of those knights in an old fairy tale. I know, sounds stupid... and not at all like me! But I liked it. It was far more erotic to flirt with him in a naive manner than to lead him to my bed on our first date.

Not that we dated. Honestly, I didn't know how to classify our relationship, either. We just liked to spend time with each other.

My greatest victory had been when he had allowed me to caress his face and lips with the tip of my fingers and then bite his ears gently. He had laid his head on my shoulder and let himself drift away. I knew that because he had told me so.

He told me that as I caressed him so tenderly and placed gentle bites on his neck, his mind floated to a peaceful and quiet place. I loved the way he confessed this because he wasn't ashamed of it.

Sometimes he let me hold his hand when we were studying. As he read the text, he stroked my hand softly and I smiled, trying not to stare at him the entire time like a fool in love. I was a fool in love but there was no point in showing him that.

On the fifth day, I noticed that he was almost sleeping with his head buried in a big Transfiguration book and I carefully shut it and asked him if he wanted to sleep in my room. There wasn't any kind of insinuation either in my voice or in my intentions. I just suggested this because he seemed tired and not able to walk. He barely had strength to nod in acceptance.

I took him in my arms and placed him in my bed. Then I took off his robe and his shoes. I stared at his slender form for a long time. Harry was exactly where I wanted him to be and yet, he wasn't. In my dreams I was lying there with him. Then he would embrace me and pull me closer to his warm body. I would sigh in contentment and I would bless the gods for that miracle. Maybe he and I would even share the same dreams.

But I didn't lay down with him. I slept on the couch, or at least I tried. It was hard to forget that my love was a few meters away from me and I couldn't hold him the way I wanted to. It was frustrating but at some point I lost myself as I slipped into dreamland.

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I was awakened by desperate sobs coming from my bed. My brain took a few minutes to focus but the moment I realised the sobs were coming from Harry, I got up quickly and put my arms around him. He enlaced me around my waist and pulled me closer. I didn't protest. Why would I? I was only worried that he would wake up and realise that he was the one touching me. But he didn't. Not right away.

"Harry. Wake up, Harry. It's only a nightmare. Please, wake up, my love," I whispered, rocking his body gently as if he was a baby.

He opened his eyes all of a sudden and stared at me. "Malfoy?"

"Yes." I wiped his tears away.

His mouth was a few inches away from mine and I could feel his hot and accelerated breath against my face. I thought that he would pull away the moment he realised it was me holding him. And I was more than shocked when he made me lay in bed with him and then he rested his head on my chest.

I felt like crying, as stupid and corny as it might sound. I hated myself for being so emotional.

"Harry, I don't think this is part of our rule," I had to say it.

"Fuck the rule. It was a stupid rule anyway. I don't know why you agreed to it in the first place."

He sounded sleepy, which probably meant that he didn't know what he was talking about. That state of his could be very interesting. I shouldn't take advantage of him in a moment of such weakness... Still, I couldn't hold myself.

"I agreed with it because..."

"You wanted me. I know."

I stroked his back and he cuddled against me.

"What did you dream about, Harry?" I asked quietly.

He tensed. Maybe I had pushed him too far. It was a bad idea to take the opportunity to make him confess something about his feelings. I should learn to be quiet. At any moment, he would kick me out of bed.

"Hagrid," he muttered.

"What about him?"

"Please, don't make me say it."

"You need to talk about it, Harry."

"I know."

Silence.

"He died saving me, did you know that?"

"No. Tell me about it."

He shook his head and buried his head on my shoulder. He seemed so adorably helpless that I wished I could wrap him away from all the troubles in the world and all of that despair that his life had been ever since he was born. But I couldn't do any of those things. And besides, I wasn't sentimental. I know that it looked like I was, but I wasn't. Honestly.

Who was I kidding?

"Please?" I insisted.

"I don't want to cry in front of you," he confessed shyly.

"It's too late for that, Potter. Your sobs woke me up! Besides, I think you need to cry. I promise I won't make fun of you tomorrow. I give you my word."

"Your word?" he sneered, "I don't think your word has any value, Malfoy."

That felt like a stab in my back.

"That's so not true! My word is worth a lot, Potter! I have honour, you know?"

I was truly offended by his comment. So, I did what I should have done from the beginning. I stood up to leave him.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I think I'm going to sleep somewhere else."

I grabbed my pillow and a blanket, and I was ready to leave the room, when Harry's voice echoed around the room.

"Please, stay. I'm sorry if I insulted you. I was only teasing you."

I was weak and pathetic. What more can I say? I was in love. People in love do stupid things.

I turned around and went back to bed. He wrapped his arms around me and I thought I heard him sigh happily. I smiled and tried to prevent a silly and sappy thought that had been forming on my mind for quite a while now. And that thought came to me with the force of a revelation: 'The four-eyes and I were meant to be'. I could actually see the words shining brightly in front of my eyes. Fuck. I hated that sentimental crap...

"I don't think I'll ever forget the way Hagrid died for me. I didn't ask him to but he did anyway. It was all Voldemort's fault. Everything wrong about my life is Voldemort's fault. I hated him so much. I hated him even more than I hated you," he said, taking me by surprise.

My heart cracked. He hated me. He would never love me. He was opening his heart for me and all I could think about was nothing but my own feelings! I was so selfish. Of course he would never love me. I didn't deserve to be loved.

"Malfoy? Are you crying?"

I quickly placed a finger on my cheeks and confirmed that indeed I was crying. I cursed myself and Harry stared at me, trying to figure me out.

"Why are you crying?"

"I'm not!" I said defensively.

"Right," he sneered. "And the tears falling from your eyes are just... what?"

I hated it when he sneered.

"Just leave me alone," I muttered bitterly and gave my back to him.

He sighed, "I... I don't understand you."

"That only proves that you're stupid and blind."

"I was just doing what you asked me! I was telling you about what happened that day! And you just proved to me that you're a heartless son of a bitch that only cares for yourself!"

He was right but I was hurt. I would never admit that.

"Look, Malfoy, apparently, something I said hurt you. Am I right? What did I say?"

At this point, I had stopped crying. It would be embarrassing if I didn't. I glanced at Harry and he looked thoughtful, probably trying to sort out what he had said that had upset me so much. The idiot would never realise that...

"HA!" he yelled suddenly, almost making me fall out of the bed. "It was because I said I hated you, wasn't it?"

I didn't say anything.

"Hmm... By your lack of reaction, I presume that I'm right. Why do you care whether I hate you or not?"

"Do you?" I asked in a whisper.

Fuck you, Draco! Get a grip on yourself!

"Do I hate you?" he asked.

"Yes."

"No."

I held my breath in expectation. I knew he would say something to crush my dreams. I just knew it.

"I mean, I did, but then... You're not the person I thought you were. I don't know. Maybe the war changed you, just like it changed almost everybody. Just like it changed me. I'm also not the person I used to be. Maybe I'm more like you. I mean, I'm like your old self."

"No, you're not!" I turned to face him. "You have no idea what it's like to be me. Everyone thinks you are dark, Harry, but I can't see darkness in you. Even you think that, but you're wrong! I know this from experience. All I knew in my life were dark people, and you're not one of them. You'll never be one of them! You're depressed, sad and upset with your life, with your destiny, but you're not dark. You're not evil."

Wow! Where did I have the courage to say all that to him? He was speechless. He didn't know what to make of me. I didn't know either! I never thought I would be the kind of person who lectures someone, let alone lecture Harry Potter. I thought he just needed a hug but now I think he deserved a lecture. He wasn't dark; he was just confused about what he should be feeling about all that mess that was his life. I understood.

"How can you tell?" he asked, bewildered.

"Hello, Potter! It's me! Draco Malfoy! I know all about darkness! I grew up in there!" I sneered.

"All right. There's no need to be sarcastic!"

"Let's just sleep, all right?" I lay back on the bed and I waited for Harry to lie by my side, but he didn't. "What, Potter?"

"How can you know more about me than myself?"

Oops. He got me. Should I tell him that I loved him? Should I confess him that for the past seven years I studied his every gesture and every move until I knew him by heart? Hmm... Yeah, right! I didn't think so. Harry wasn't prepared to hear that. He would probably have a heart attack if I said something!

"I dunno," I shrugged. "I guess I'm a good observer."

He lay down by my side and stared at the ceiling. Then I remembered something he said just after he had woke me up and I wondered if I should bring that subject into a discussion. I wanted to; even though I was sure he wouldn't like it.

"Potter," I called him.

"I just noticed something," he said all of a sudden. "You called me Harry a lot!"

My face reddened and I held the urge to run away. "So?"

"It's funny. And I thought that you said to me 'wake up, my love'. Did you?"

Ok. Now I could feel the steam coming out of my ears just like in a cartoon. How in heaven's name had he heard that? I thought he was sleeping!

"I thought you were sleeping!" I protested, knowing that I was giving away everything.

"Well, I was. Kind of. Did you say that?" he asked, looking straight into my eyes.

"What if I did?"

"Well, did you?"

"Why do you care?" I asked, irritated.

"I don't!"

"Good. Because I didn't. You were dreaming, Potter," I lied.

We lay side by side but we put some space between our bodies. He was upset, I could tell, and so was I.

"What if I did?" I asked in a whisper.

"It wouldn't make any difference," he said.

There! He had just crushed my heart, the bloody bastard!

"I'm going back to the couch," I decided.

"Why?"

"Oh, come on! Get a clue, for Merlin's sake!"

I got up and to my delight and surprise, he pulled me back. Our bodies touched and we stared at each other. I shivered.

"You're cold. Just get in the blankets and let's sleep, shall we?" he said.

"Potter..."

"Do you only have sex on your mind?"

"No!" Well, of course I did. I was a healthy seventeen year old guy!

"Then just get in here!"

I did against my will. Harry could be very bossy when he wanted. I put a great deal of distance between us. I didn't want to risk touching him by accident. That would ruin things even more. It was then that I remembered what I had wanted to ask him had he let me finish.

"Potter? Was it true? The rule you created... do you think it is a stupid rule?"

And then I understood the real meaning of the expression 'oppressive silence'.

"Yes," he answered in such a low tone of voice that I could barely hear it.

"All right then." I took a deep breath and I let it drop like a bomb, "Does that mean I can touch you?"

"Do you want to?"

I was getting really pissed about his answering a question with another question.

"Just answer me, Potter!"

"I thought I did."

So, I was allowed to touch him. I WAS ALLOWED TO TOUCH HIM! FINALLY!

"But not too much," he said.

And my world crumbled down again. I sighed, defeated.

"God, Potter, why don't you just throw the killing curse at me?" I said bitterly. "You act like you're a goddamn virgin! I bet that even Granger is more liberal with Weasley than you are with me! All you let me do is kiss you. Damn you!"

He didn't say anything and I got curious about that sudden silence. I looked at him and he looked at me. I saw something flickering in his eyes and I didn't know how the hell I understood what he was trying to tell me.

"FUCK! You are a virgin!" I exclaimed, aghast.

"Don't make such a big deal about it, all right?"

I stuttered, "No... I-I... It's o-ok, r-really. No big d-deal."

"Really?"

"Yes."

And it wasn't. Honestly, I was surprised but not that much. Suddenly it all made sense! The way he kissed, with his mouth shut and the way he acted, like he didn't know what to do with his hands... He was a virgin! He was not in denial, then! He was just scared! Or maybe not. I was confused.

"Thanks," he said.

"For what?"

"For understanding."

"It's all right." I didn't know what else to say.

And then, after another moment of oppressive silence, he said what I longed to hear it, "Malfoy, can I touch you?"