My Only Love

My Only Love

"My only love sprung from my only hate."

Harry hated it when Hermione was right. The other day she had been discussing Muggle studies with Ron, and had mentioned Romeo and Juliet. Both boys had told her that it was pure rubbish; that two young lovers would never go that far. Hermione, being Hermione, had stuck her nose up in the air and had stated that all of Shakespeare's stories were grounded in truth, and that he had even uncovered small parts of witchcraft and wizardry.

She was right. Harry's only love was sprung from his only hate. And he couldn't help but wonder how it happened. Even now he had no clue. He'd hated the blond-haired boy, whose head lay across his chest. Hated him with a passion. But there's a fine line between love and hate.

He'd never wanted to care for Malfoy. Had never dreamed that he would see a sadness and need for love in the boy's eyes, that mirrored his own. A desperate need. They both had friends and admirers in their own houses, and undoubtedly some in others. And yet they'd ended up together.

<~*~>

"And with an amazing dive by Potter, Gryffindor wins 210-30 over Slytherin," Seamus Finnigan yelled excitedly from his seat. "Bloody well done if you ask me. Not that Malfoy is that much trouble for Potter, but that snitch did not want to be caught. And the Slytherin team, isn't nearly as talented, as well structured, as well trained and they're all a bunch of blithering--"

"Mr. Finnegan, if you would like to keep your mouth on your face I suggest you close it!" Professor McGonagall snapped, cutting through Seamus's passionate muttering.

Shamus gulped and looked down, at least pretending to be ashamed. No one could really tell. "Yes Professor."

Everyone began to file off the pitch but Harry and Draco.

Draco had to admit that Potter had done a bloody fine job, and had looked miraculous while doing it. Not that anyone needed to know that. Not that he ever had to admit that thought to anyone. Hadn't for a year now; didn't need to start anytime soon. "Think you did bloody well for yourself do you Potter?" he snarled angrily, hating the other boy for taking his glory, and for making him want him, and giving nothing back in return, "just because you are the famous Harry Potter, the boy who lived, doesn't make you Merlin."

Harry glared at Malfoy but kept his cool. "Oh sod off Malfoy. Just because you can't hack it on the Quidditch field doesn't mean you have to take it out on me, or anyone else." And with that he turned around and began to walk away.

Harry was just going to walk away. No one walked away from him, not ever. "That's right the almighty Potter is just going to walk away," Draco said, sneer placed on his face. He was a glutton for punishment, and a glutton for those green eyes.

Harry turned around eyes flashing, and his blood was instantly heated upon seeing Malfoy on edge. "You're not worth my spit Malfoy, not even worth my bloody spit. Let alone my time, energy or health." Draco wasn't worth this, he wasn't. Harry began to walk back towards the locker rooms.

Wasn't worth it. He was a Malfoy, and bloody well near perfection. He was definitely worth it. "Well at least I have parents," he shot out, and hated himself for saying it, but it was all he could come up with at the moment. What had happened to his quick wit?

Harry turned around, completely cold, and Draco couldn't help but wonder if Potter could have cut it in Slytherin. "My parents loved me. They died to save me. Can you say that yours would do the same?"

Malfoy lunged. He didn't have his wand. It was back in the Slytherin locker room, besides, dueling with wands wasn't nearly as satisfying as pummeling Potter with his fists would be. Not to mention being on top of him. No, no don't think of that.

But Harry was ready for him. Harry was about two inches taller, and thin as he may be, he was wiry and able to elude Malfoy's fists at all costs. He just hated the fact that he would rather see the dangerous glint in Draco's eyes before he lunged to kiss him, instead of to kill him, but well...that was never going to happen. And he shouldn't even be thinking such things. Damn Malfoy.

"Stop this foolishness this instant," McGonagall's shrill voice echoed across the pitch, never really penetrating the ears of either of the boys.

"One would think you two boys would be smarter to take out your frustrations in the middle of the Quidditch pitch," Snape said coldly as he pulled Malfoy off of Harry. He snarled when Harry didn't get up immediately. "What's wrong Potter? Ah yes, needed to be saved again. Some people's names mean absolutely nothing." As much as Draco knew he would have used that line himself, he hated Snape for using it.

"Fifty points from both Slytherin and Gryffindor." McGonagall snapped as soon as Snape put Draco back down on his feet. "Inside and up to the hospital wing with both of you, or you'll lose more."

Both boys glared at each other, and each caught a glimmer of the passion that simmered within the other. And both turned away in disgust.

~*~

He wasn't a homosexual. He wasn't gay. He knew that. He knew....

He didn't know what he knew anymore. Malfoy just turned him on slightly that's all, had for a few months. He was curious, just curious.

But about Malfoy!

"That frigging prick. The fucking bastard. Just because in his entire body he doesn't posses half the Quidditch talent you do in your little finger, doesn't give him, or anyone else, the bloody right," Ron raged upon entering the common room and seeing Harry. He whirled on the brunette beside him. "I told you we should have stayed Hermoine. I could have--"

"That would have been brilliant Ron." Hermoine snapped at Ron, tears glistening in her eyes. "100 points from Gryffindor, and both of you in the hospital wing. It would have been bloody brilliant of you." Hermione said, before turning and fleeing up the stairs.

Ron's gaze followed her up the stairs. "She sounded a bit pissed."

God Ron could be dense. "Yeah she did."

Ron waited a few more minutes. "I think I'm going to go after her."

"Yeah."

"You'll be up in a bit?"

Harry only nodded. His mind had gone back to what he had been thinking about for two years. He wanted girls, he did. What about Cho? He'd been interested in Cho. And even in Ginny a bit...But not like Draco Malfoy.

Why? Why did no one stir his blood like the pale Slytherin boy? And if it had to be a Slytherin, why that one? Why Malfoy?

Harry couldn't stay in the common room any longer. He went up stairs and grabbed his invisibility cloak and then crept out into the hallway. He needed air, and he needed it desperately. This couldn't be any worse.

He walked out onto the top level of the Astronomy tower and saw a pale boy with pale hair staring off into the night. "Damn you Potter," he heard Malfoy say. "I never asked for this. I never asked for you."

"I never did either."

The other boy whirled around, the silver orbs that were his eyes narrowed dangerously, his skin had an even worse pallor than it had before. They stood there staring at one another as the winter wind whipped around them. Neither noticing the cold, nor the howling of the wind.

"I hate you," Draco said, heading for Harry like a predator stalking his prey. Long lean muscles moving in perfect harmony, knowing their path, completely confident and strong. "I really hate you," he murmured against Harry's lips before going in for the kill and taking possession of them.

Draco began to plunder and pillage. He felt stronger and more in tune with himself than he had in a long time, as he felt Harry's lips go pliant under his own. Then Harry began to respond, giving and taking all at once, confusing Draco, but giving him odd pleasure. Draco broke away for only a moment to catch his breath, and the site of round glasses askew highlighting emerald green eyes struck him.

<~*~>

Harry looked down at his lover, and realized that he was having nightmares again. "No. NO I WON'T!" Draco called out into the night, and Harry could feel the anguish within his lover's soul amass.

Harry pulled Draco closer and wished he could do more for the other boy's pain. "I'm here," he whispered in the dark. "I'm right here, Draco, I'm not going anywhere."

Draco shuddered and then grasped at Harry's chest, as if he was trying to bury himself in Harry. "Harry," he murmured, sounding as if he'd just been saved.

Harry knew Draco would never be truly saved. He turned over the other boy's arm, and traced the ugly mark burned into the flesh. There were some things you could never get rid of, no matter how hard you tried.