Memoirs of a Dragon Lover

Memoirs of A Dragon Lover

Chapter Three - Dirty Little Secret

'You're the only story that I never told,

You're my dirty little secret, wanna keep you so.

Come on out, come on over, help me forget

Keep the walls from falling in on me, tumbling in.

This is love I'm feeling' - P.J Harvey, This is Love

To those of you who knew me then, I'm sorry. Draco Malfoy was my dirty little secret, as I was his. He was the person that I loved to hate, and equally, the person that I hated to love. And he completed me. I will never be fully able to explain in words what drew me to him. Perhaps I was running. Perhaps I thought that the thin shoulders of Draco Malfoy could protect me from a reality that was too real. Perhaps I was drawn to the darkness that surrounded him, was a part of him. Perhaps there is no reason except for coincidence and timing. And perhaps, just perhaps, I needed him.

We met always at night, for we were creatures of darkness, committing a sin so utterly terrible I squirm to think of it. That sin was love. I didn't love him at first, for how could I? He was truly horrid. Sarcasm rolled from his tongue like venom. His heart was made of stone. He cared for no one. Nothing. But, as I said before, he made me angry, hurt, incensed, and all of that was preferable to apathy. No, I didn't love him at first. He changed me though. My dragon. And I think that perhaps I changed him. We gave each other a little of our qualities, he gave me darkness, I gave him light, and from that time on, we were pilgrims of the grey area that never quite belong anywhere.

We met when the moon was high above the trees of the forest, in remote, forbidden parts of the castle. No one knew we met. We were secretive, sneaky, and the darkness in which we met suited us entirely. We were together in the darkness, and there I learned that Draco was not who he seemed from the outside. After we made love, which we always did, for we revelled in carnality, soft and pure or rough and tainted, we would talk. Of the past, of the present, of the uncertain future, and we understood one another. I knew that I loved him when I woke up next to him one morning. We had not gone back to our rooms and had fallen asleep in each others arms. I woke, and the sunlight was streaming through the small window, making shadows dance upon his face. He looked innocent. And I knew that that was the way things were meant to be. Light, innocent. Never should children have to grow up under the oppression of fear, darkness, all of things that made my dragon who he was. I knew that things in my world would never be the same again, not now. I said before that love was a sin, and it truly was, because it was a weakness. Love caused a crack in the veneer of our person. It was a fault line in our convictions. But most of all, it was a blessing upon our souls, a truly unacceptable thing when war was knocking on the door and I loved my enemy.

I knew that he would go. What else would he do? He was drawn to power like a moth to the flame, and Voldemort was powerful, undoubtedly. I didn't know though that his call would come so soon. So suddenly. So unexpectedly. The night he was called, he came to me later than usual. I knew straight away that something was wrong, for I had never seen him sad before. I had seen him jealous, many a time, Draco Malfoy was a very possessive person. I had seen him angry, at me, at his father, at the world. I had seen him impassive. But never had I seen him happy...and never, ever sad. Yet he came to me that night with tears of sadness in his pleading eyes. What could I do? I didn't know. I held him tight as he choked out what I already knew. He had to go. Leave. Perhaps I'd never see him again. Tears flowed freely down my cheeks, I didn't want him to leave me. I loved him. I needed him. Even with his sarcasm, his dry humour, foul temper, he was everything I needed. It was now or never...

"Draco."

"Yes?"

"I never told you this, but...I love you."

"I know."

"Oh."

"And Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Never forget, that no matter what happens, I'll always love you."

"I know."

And that was it. He loved me, though I knew he would never show it. Somehow I had reached him. I knew we could never have a future though, not now. Not ever. Fate mocked me. As he kissed me I despaired. I didn't know what to do. My mind flickered back to a memory that was not so long ago, though it seemed like an eternity.

"Well let me tell you something...sweetheart. You have more in common with me than you believe, or you'll let yourself believe. But one day you will tell me you love me. And you'll mean it. And I won't pretend to break your heart like Potter did. I'll break it properly..."

Those prophetic words, uttered from the mouth of malice, had come true. I knew that it was true, I was so like my dragon, but unlike at the same time. And I loved him, with such passion that it scared me. And he had broken my heart.

I know now, what I did not know then. That night would be our last together. That when I left the seventeen year old wizard in the morning, I would not see him again for two years. And that when I did see him, he would no longer be that innocent dragon, so full of fire and life that I left behind. He would be a wizard trapped in Voldemort's grip.

And yet, it may have been the very thing that saved us. Saved us all...