Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers

It's simple, really. I love J.K. Rowling, and I would never attempt to take any credit for her beautiful characters or stories. I'm just borrowing them, so please don't take offense.

Chapter 10: The Desperate Kingdom of Love

"I love you," Harry repeated. "I have for such a long time. Since I met you, maybe. But I only figured it out a little while ago. I tried to fall in love with other people. I thought I might've, once or twice. Perhaps I did, for a while. But I've never felt about anyone the way I feel about you."

Draco was speechless. And impossibly happy. And he felt like his heart was going to burst.

I'm not in love, he told himself.

I can't be.

His heart beat even faster as Harry kissed him again. It was gentle this time. But it was still prefect.

I'm not in love.

He forgot how to breathe for the millionth time when Harry ran his hand through Draco's hair and twirled a stand around his finger.

I'm not in love.

* * *

That night, Draco slept in Harry's bed when they collapsed after hours of talking. They fell asleep in each other's arms and woke up holding hands.

I'm not in love, Draco told himself. I'm not.

When Harry opened his eyes and looked into Draco's grey ones while brushing the hair away from his face, Draco forgot to remember that he wasn't in love. And when Harry grabbed Draco, pulling their bodies together and grinding them, Draco forgot to don his Malfoy mask, letting his emotions show. When they climaxed together for the first time, Draco forgot his own name. As they lay there, afterwards, he reminded himself of everything.

I'm not in love. If I keep my heart safe, he won't be able to break it. I'm not in love.

* * *

When they walked to breakfast that morning, holding hands, Harry dragged Draco to the Gryffindor table with him. Harry's admirers glared, and Draco glared back. When Harry put his arm around the blonde's waist and tugged him closer, the Slytherin forgot why he was glaring in the first place.

Blaise caught Draco's eyes from across the room, where he was sitting with the other Slytherins. For a tense moment, nothing happened. Then Blaise offered a small smile. It didn't mean that they were friends again. It wasn't an assurance that they would be. It was a smile of acceptance. Draco took it for what it was and smiled back.

* * *

Sometimes when Draco slept in Harry's bed, the Gryffindor would wake in the middle of the night, screaming for things that Draco couldn't give him and mourning for people who had long since stopped existing. When Draco cradled Harry in his arms, something deep inside of him was ignited. It was something that he had given up on long ago, and he was glad that Malfoy pride hadn't stamped it out completely. He wanted to care for Harry and be the one to tell him that things would turn out alright. It was new, and he was scared. But he was scared in a good way, so he embraced it.

I care about him. But it's not love.

Not yet, the little voice whispered.

* * *

The first time they made love, it was soft and romantic. They were nervous and awkward, but it was so sweet that neither of them cared. When it was over, Harry told Draco that he loved him.

I'm not in love with him. It wouldn't last if I was. No one deserves to be this happy. It's impossible. It would mean trusting him with my heart.

Harry loved too easily. He gave his heart away too quickly and too often, to too many people. Blaise's words rang out in Draco's mind.

"I want him to love me back. But I'm afraid that if he loves too many more people, there won't be any of his heart left for me."

If I fall in love with him, I'll never be able to fall out of it. If I fall in love with him, it'll mean forever, whether I want it to or not.

Draco said the words back, for the first time.

Forever.