Labyrinth of Moonlight

Chapter I: Destiny Awaits No One

~*~*~*~*~

Drop everything, start it all over

Remember more than you'd like to forget...

"This Photograph is Proof," Taking Back Sunday

~*~*~*~*~

I awoke the next evening to the dull clink of rusted chains and a woman's low weeping. I silently pushed the lid off of the coffin I was resting in, and found, to my absolute astonishment, a woman in mid-twenties weeping on the floor in the middle aisle, her pale wrists chained to the bench beside her. Gabriel was kneeling over her and stroking her tear-streaked cheeks with his thumb and simultaneously lifting the blonde hairs that strayed upon the woman's face.

As soon as I stepped out of the coffin, Gabriel looked up and regarded me with a gentle smile. I approached them and stood beside Gabriel.

I looked down at the woman and examined her. The hem of her little pink dress was twisted in different places and showed smooth, unmarked legs. She had no shoes on, I noticed. She was shivering and trembling in fear and in cold. She was mumbling softly, though no words were distinguishable. Her head was titled to one side, away from Gabriel, and I saw two slightly bruised and punctured wounds on her white neck.

"I took a little drink, if you don't mind," Gabriel said, still looking intently at the woman and stroking her cheek, obviously trying to comfort her.

"What is this," I asked, tough I kind of knew what "this" was.

"I hunted for you, Harry. Thought you'd be hungry when you wake up."

"Why her?" Even if we were killers, it seemed a crime, somehow, to harm such beauty and innocence.

"Beauty and innocence are two of the reasons why we exist, isn't it? You know, you used to reprimand me whenever I give you presents such as her. Then I'd laugh at you because even you, who preys upon the awful blood of the evil and the unwanted and refuses to give himself the pleasure to drink from purity, could not deny the fact that the likes of her taste much better," he looked up at me and smiled again. "Come, drink, my beloved."

I knelt down beside him and reached out to touch the woman's face, the smell of her blood permeating my nostrils. She flinched and jerked away from my hand, gasping in fear and looking at me with large, bloodshot eyes. She must've recognized the fire of hunger burning in my eyes.

Yes, her blood smelled richer and more alluring than the old woman I've had last night.

I moved closer and reached out again, cautiously this time, and wiped off the remaining tears from her cheeks. She seemed comforted by some means, her shoulders sagging a little and a soft sigh escaping her pink lips.

I bent closer to her and kissed her neck, hearing her catch her breath from the coldness of my lips. I cradled her face with one hand and opened my mouth.

"I won't hurt you," I whispered before I took her. It was essential, in one way or another, to speak this lie, to give her false hopes of security.

Gabriel asked me then if I still wanted to carry on with my insistence to remember. I told him that my curiosity about my past would only increase in time and if I didn't remember now, I would go mad.

"Alright," Gabriel sighed, "but as I have told you last night, do not blame me if the memory distresses you."

"I don't care. Anything is better than this."

"Harry, my lad," he sighed again, looking at me with great concern, "you know there's a reason why you have forgotten, don't you?"

I did not reply to that because I knew he was right. But I was prepared to take those words as a lie. He wouldn't stop me.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," he breathed, shaking his head a little, and smiled at me, "still stubborn as ever. You never did know when to put aside your pride and give way to rational thinking. Have you heard of the words 'Curiosity killed the cat'? I find them dreadfully overused, yet strangely accurate."

"Yeah, well, I'm not a cat," I replied rather arrogantly, which sent Gabriel smiling yet again in amusement. "Just tell me what I have to do."

Gabriel explained to me about going back in time by the will of the mind, that what I was about to do was not literally defying the sense of time, but a state of mind that could make me recall even the littlest and most insignificant part of my past, and it can only be achieved by the deepest concentration. "Like the stuff the Hindus do to accomplish what they call 'Nirvana'," he said with a grin.

He started a fire under the great aged crucifix by rubbing two pieces of wood together. He rubbed them with such speed that his fingers became blurry. He pulled out a bottle of something powdery from his pocket and threw a small amount of it into the fire. The fire rose and gave off a heavy scent.

"It helps with the meditating," he explained to me, smiling once more. I wondered if he ever wears a frown. It seemed unnatural to someone who has such high spirits to ever sport a scowl.

I sat in front of the fire and waited.

"Now close your eyes and be still," he instructed me. "If you have doubts about this whole thing, which I entirely disbelieve, throw them out of your wits because it would spoil your concentration. It would take a little or more time before you achieve the state of unconsciousness, but be still and abandon everything else. Know that nothing can harm you."

The fumes from the fire made me light-headed and I found myself falling and floating into nothingness. Gabriel's voice seemed distant and hazy in my mind. But it was that voice that made me cast off my inhibitions and give up everything in me.

"Abandon everything else... If you can will yourself to forget, then you can will yourself to remember..."

Will myself to remember... will myself to remember... I found myself repeating the last words over and over again.

I don't know how much time passed before I completely abandoned everything, until there was only darkness. It was ironic to feel peaceful in the midst of obscurity, but at that time, I felt truly serene, like there was nothing in the whole world that could make me come out of this shadow.

It was in my reclining to the darkness when a strange vision came flashing before my eyes. Then I began falling, no, plummeting into the vision like I was being sucked into a television screen.

I then saw a tight little cupboard under the stairs in a relatively huge house. Yes, the Dursley's house in Privet Drive. And Dudley, the name of this gigantic clump of fat, 'huge bones,' his parents called it, who appears to be my cousin, playing a game of Harry Hunting with his equally overweight friends. Yes, I remember those horrible days when freedom and a satisfactory meal was one thing that was most difficult to have.

And then the giant Hagrid came into the picture with huge promises of better days, and me finding out I was a Wizard when I thought I was just a half-starved little boy who was too small for his age.

And then going into the Wizarding World where every single person shook my hand in excitement, and finding out about the real event of my parents' death in the hands of The Dark Lord Voldemort and his evil followers. Then meeting the wonderful family of the Weasleys while boarding the Hogwarts Express to attend my first year in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Ah, Hogwarts. The only place I could really call home, though danger looms in every corner of the enormous castle.

And then being selected as Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. I could now remember the way Draco Malfoy, who was then my worst enemy, had to pick his jaw from the floor when he saw my brand new Nimbus 2000, and me and Ron laughing about it in the confines of our dormitory with our roommates, Seamus, Dean, and Neville.

Then came the events of my second, third, fourth, and fifth year and the death of Sirius Black, the only person I truly considered my flesh and blood even though he was just my godfather.

I returned then to my sixth year and hooked up with Draco Malfoy without everybody else's knowledge. Even though every night was jam packed with school works, we somehow found time to meet up somewhere inside the castle and do "our stuff. "

We hooked up to punish the other in a most bizarre way. "Your f***ing father is part of the reason why Sirius is dead," I would yell at his face as I push harder and harder into him. "You f***ing sent him to Azkaban, you son of a bitch," he would yell back and bite hard on my shoulder and claw his well-filed fingernails on my back. "Well, he f***ing deserved it," I'd answer, clutching his wrists tight over his head and burying my face in his pale neck.

That was my reason, I told myself. Yes, punish him for the faults of his stupid father. Punish him for having a father who was in the same league as Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort, those beasts who slaughtered important people in my life. Punish him for ruining everything. Punish him. Curse him, curse him.

But then I started doubting my own reasons. Was it right to punish him for his blood? Was it vindicated to punish him for something he hadn't really wanted in the first place?

We were both lost souls seeking affection and security. We were both searching for someone who could make us abandon our existence even for a little while. We were both looking for a place where there are no dead godfathers and no unfeeling parents. We were both seeking our own sanctuaries where nothing else in the world matters except for the strong arms holding us tight in their embrace.

Was it right to punish him for something that I am?

~-~-~-~-~

"Hey, Harry!"

I was sitting undisturbed at the corner of the library, hiding myself behind books to avoid everyone's attention. I squeezed my eyes shut, furious that someone blew my cover, and peered over my Transfiguration book.

"Hey, Luna," I greeted. I was silently hoping that she'd go away and leave me to my attempt at blending in. My heart immediately sank when she came forward and pulled out a seat opposite me and sat down.

"So," she breathed, gazing at the books in front of us, "when did you decide to be studious?"

"Not to be rude or anything but... I kind of want to be alone right now."

"You know, if you didn't want to be spotted, you should've, at least, used a book without a 'Harry Potter' written in bold letters in front of it."

I immediately closed my Transfiguration book and settled it on the table.

She smiled even wider at that, and it completely annoyed me. "I know something about you."

"Doesn't everyone?"

"Not exactly. I know stuff a lot of people don't."

"Like what?" Oh, I had to say that, don't I? I just have to give her one more reason to stay.

"I know something about you and a particular Slytherin - a particular blond Slytherin."

I looked at her. A lot of incomplete phrases were forming in my mind. She can't... she's not... she couldn't have...

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes," she said, looking at me with that dreamy look on her face, "I know about you and your 'relationship' with Draco Malfoy."

I stared, my mouth hanging open, surprised at the fact that not only was she able to blow my cover, but she also managed to dig deep into my deepest darkest secret. "I have no idea about what you're going on about."

"It would be pointless to deny the fact from me, Harry Potter," she said. "But you have to know that all restricted information are safe with me."

Indeed, it would be pointless to deny the truth from her. The look on her eyes clearly said that she knows what she's saying. I looked around the room and checked if anybody was eavesdropping. Once I made sure we weren't being overheard, I dropped my voice and hissed at her. "How did you find out about this?" She smiled, apparently amazed. "Were you snooping around everybody's private life?"

Her smile faded and she looked serious. "It's not in my nature to snoop around."

"Then how did you know?" She became quiet and stared at me for a long moment. I lost what was left of my patience and hissed again. "So I guess staring at a person long enough is your secret technique?"

"Not entirely," she breathed, still staring at me. "But I can tell a lot of things just by looking at you. For instance, I can tell that you've been having trouble trying to sleep at night. The dents on your nose from your eye glasses are deep... you probably read to avoid wasting time. Your hands are smooth which suggest that you haven't been on a broom for quite a while."

I shrugged. "So?"

"I am simply more observant than most people. It's funny how people tend to overlook the simplest of things, like a little scratch on someone's face, or a slight untidiness of a once neat hair... even a missing button from someone's shirt, and finding that missing button in someone else's book bag."

"It's still not enough evidence to point to me and Malfoy having a 'relationship,' as you call it."

"Do you ever notice how someone looks at another person?" she asked, looking as calm as ever, like letting a person know that you know their darkest secret is completely normal.

"How is this related to what we are talking about?"

"When two people look at each other, if you're keen enough, you'd know right away what they are to each other. Take, for example, Lisa Turpin over there."

I lifted my head and glanced to the middle of the room.

"You notice how she looks at Terry Boot?" she continued, looking over at the two oblivious Ravenclaws. "As far as you know, they're good friends... but that's all you know. If you look closer, you would recognize from her looks and her gestures that he means more to her than just being a friend. The way she would laugh with him, the way she would hand a book to him... I mean, there's something distinct about it."

"So, you think that I look at Malfoy the same way?"

"You and Malfoy have a completely different case," she grinned animatedly. "There's this look you throw at him that tells me you still hate him. But you're also throwing interest with it. You sometimes look at him with challenge, and he would hurl back the same gaze. You glance at him like you want to hurt him, but you also want to be there for him. There is so much passion in both of your eyes when your gazes meet. I cannot sense these things when you look at other people."

I looked intently at her, amazed with all this information.

"You know what else I detected?" she said mischievously. "Some might call it lust, but I think it is more of a yearning. You don't know what you would be without him. You cannot imagine what the world would be like without Malfoy, and I sense the same thing from him."

I shook my head, disbelieving all of it. "There is absolutely no way I feel like that towards him. What we have, whatever that is, is simply nothing. There isn't anything special about it."

"Or so you say to yourself."

"Wait a minute," I said, raising a hand to stop her. "You're making it sound like there's something deep going on between us! Because I'll tell you now, Luna, there's nothing going on. Nothing."

She paused and regarded me with a thoughtful stare. "Wounds hurt most when you can't say it hurts," she said calmly. "It is the same with emotion. Everyone knows you're still hurting about Sirius Black and Cedric Diggory. But you chose not to talk about it because you think of it as a sign of weakness. You think talking to someone about it was being childish, like telling your mother you got a scratch on your knee. But what you don't know is that talking about it to someone else is releasing some of the pain. It would not completely heal the wound, but it would help reduce the agony."

"Fine," I said with spite, "break into my head, why don't you."

"You are merely undergoing, what we call, the 'state of denial'," she continued. "When we notice something different or unusual about ourselves, we tend to deny it to avoid rejection from the people around us, and rejection from ourselves. In your point of view, feeling for Malfoy is not right so your mind tells you to discard the possibility of having a special relationship with him."

"Is there anything you don't know?"

"You can't know everything about a person, and that's what makes it interesting," she shrugged. "Isn't it splendid to think of all the things there are to know about? It wouldn't be half as interesting if we knew all about everything, would it? There'd be no scope for imagination then, would there?"

I looked at her with astonishment, and she shrugged once more.

"Well," she pushed herself from the table and stood up, "it's been nice talking to you. Don't worry, everything that's been said between us today remains confidential. I wouldn't tell anyone else unless you tell me to do so."

She turned around and started to walk away, but before she even got two steps, she turned back and called to me. "There's a lot more I have to say about this matter but... what do you think, Harry? I believe you're almost in love with Draco Malfoy."

She grinned and, with that, turned around and walked away with that trademarked dreamy look on her face.

Love? For Malfoy? Maybe Luna was just being her loony self. But the idea didn't sound too repulsive to me.

I tried to recall the rare occasions when I looked into Draco's eyes, and see the same emptiness and longing that I feel. Maybe that's why I tried hard not to look at him even when we're so close to each other that our noses are touching, because if I looked too deep, I'd see myself swimming in those gray eyes. But sometimes I find myself wanting to drown in the depths of it, wanting to be one with the person in it. Draco and I are so alike that I sometimes think he's the missing part of me, strange as it may sound.

Does that mean I am actually falling in love with Draco Malfoy?

~-~-~-~-~

"Snap out of it, Potter!"

"Huh?" I said stupidly with a start. I blinked a few times and focused my eyes on the face in front of me.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" I looked at the stunning gray eyes that looked back at me with irritation and I felt myself drifting off again. "Potter!"

I looked around me and found myself in a dusty old broom cupboard, lying naked on top of a sweaty Draco Malfoy on a cushion of school robes. I looked out the little window above us and studied the streaks of moonlight pouring from it. I looked down and examined the way Draco's blond hair turned slightly blue in the light.

"You are determined to piss me off, don't you?" Draco said in exasperation.

I stared down at his lips and whispered, "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to get on with this shit so I can get the hell out of here," he replied angrily.

I became infuriated for no particular reason. "If you want to get out, why did you even get yourself here in the first place?"

I knew then that I wasn't merely talking about the current situation, but the entire sense of our relationship. And Draco realized in a few moments what I was on about.

"You Malfoys are messed up in the head," I yelled out in rage. "You make people want to lose their minds over you. Well, look at the monster you call 'father'. Where is he now, huh? In stinking Azkaban, that's where he is! And I bet your mother doesn't even care!"

"Don't you talk about my mother like that," he yelled back. He pushed me hard on the chest and shoved me aside. He stood up, gathered his clothes from the floor, and started dressing himself up. "Don't talk about something you don't know."

"All I know is that your family's messed up! And I'm sure as hell that you're as messed up as they are!"

He paused just as he was about to put his leg into his trousers and faced me. "What the hell do you think, huh, Potter?" he replied, his shoulders glistening with sweat. "Do you even care about me being here? You don't care as long as you get what you want! What about what I want? Does that even matter to you? All you think about is your stupid self!"

"Then why do you bother showing up at all? You could've refused whenever I ask you to meet me."

He opened his mouth, trying to reason against me, but closed them again. He seemed to be failing miserably in stringing two comprehensible words together. Finally, he sighed and diverted his attention to his pants. "I'm leaving."

"Go ahead. No one's forcing you to stay."

"Fine," he spat out, and pulled his shirt over his head. "But I'll tell you what, Potter; you're more messed up in the head than I am."

He pulled the door open so roughly that it was almost removed from its hinges. He turned around for a moment and gave me a look I am sure he hasn't given me before, and walked away. He left me there standing naked in the cold night air, wondering why I felt disappointed about all of it.

~-~-~-~-~

I was walking around the edge of the lake, missing yet another lunch, watching students strolling around on the school grounds. The last fight I had with Draco was also the last time I ate lunch. And when I come down to dinner, I separate myself from the rest of the school. Nobody really bothered to question my preferences because I was Harry Potter. It was almost like a law: Let Harry Potter do what Harry Potter wants because he saved us all. They all feel like they owe their lives to me, and in some ways, they were right.

Wait, did I say nobody bothered to question me? Well, nobody except Ron and Hermione. They followed me around shoving sandwiches and chicken legs into my hands and, in Hermione's case, went on and on about malnutrition. I appreciated their absolute concern, but it started to get really annoying. Don't get me wrong, my readers, I love my best friends and there're no people in the world who could replace them, but understand my situation; other people might want to be around other people when they're miserable, but in my case, I wanted to be left alone. Ron and Hermione soon realized this, and they let me wander on my own. And be miserable on my own....

So, as I was saying, I was walking around the edge of the lake when I spotted Luna Lovegood walking, or drifting, towards me. I looked around, looked for an escape, saw none, sighed, and waited for the worst.

"Hey," she greeted with enthusiasm.

I nodded once to acknowledge her. I was slightly amazed at how cheerful she could be, like she hasn't a care in the world. And yet she rose above Rite Skeeter at inquisitiveness.

We walked quietly for a few moments then she took a deep breath and shattered the silence. "Well, Mr. Potter, I'm impressed."

"About what?"

"About how you can stay fit without having to take lunch. Most people would be gaunt by now if they're having the same diet as you're having - if you're having any diet at all."

"Hey, I eat dinner. Anyways, my body's used to starvation. It doesn't really mind being deprived of a few meals." I snorted quietly, remembering how the Dursley's treated me in my early years.

"But your eyes don't suggest to me the same thing. You should try considering more iron and fiber into your diet."

"So you're a nutritionist now," I said, chuckling a bit.

"The body is like a time bomb," she started poetically. "If you don't attend to it, it is just a matter of time before it snaps."

"If it wants to give out, I don't have much choice in the matter."

She stopped on her tracks and faced me. "Nothing will go as you want it to be if you do nothing about it. If you want something so bad, sitting around and starving yourself won't make things come to you." She became serious, and continued, "If you want Draco Malfoy to come to you, I suggest that you come to him first. Why don't you just lay your pride down for a bit?"

"I don't know," I breathed, looking down at my shoes. "The last time I looked at him I felt... I don't know... I felt..."

"Disappointed? At yourself? Because you feel weak just by being around him?"

I nodded.

"Love can make humans feel that way. It can make us feel helpless and powerful at the same time. It can make or break a person, no matter how tough he or she may be. It may seem hard to understand, but love is hard to understand."

"What if... what if he reacts negatively?"

"Yeah, that can happen. But listen to this: 'do not seek so much to be consoled as to console; do not seek so much to understand as to understand; do not seek so much to be loved as to love'. It's a famous quote from the Christian Bible."

I looked up at her face and stared at her in amazement. "How did you know these things?"

"Too much reading, I guess," she said playfully. "So... what about going after Malfoy? Maybe he's just waiting for an apology. Then again, maybe he's not. But at least you've said what you wanted to say. It's well worth the try."

I turned around and started running for the castle entrance. I felt like I was in a movie, with all the cheesy background music, running after someone boarding a plane. Although Draco wasn't really going anywhere, I kept on running, not taking the risk of missing a few more moments without him.

I entered the Great Hall to look for him in haste and several eyes turned to look at me. I nodded at them, looked for Draco, didn't find him, excused myself, and ran straight into the dungeons.

I stopped in front of the stone wall entrance into the Slytherin dormitories and tried saying possible passwords. None of them worked, not even "Gryffindors Suck." Luckily, a first year came out from inside.

The boy squeaked as I grabbed him by the arms and lifted him in the air. "Where's Draco Malfoy?" I asked, deepening my voice to scare him.

The boy looked around nervously, obviously trying to find help. "I t-think he went up to his d-dormitory."

"Is anyone else there with him?"

"I-I don't t-think so."

"Okay, let me in."

The boy shuddered and cringed. "P-Please let me down. You're hurting me."

"Would you let me in or not?" I demanded loudly.

"Okay," he said defensively. He whispered the password and the door immediately opened.

"If you tell anyone about this, I'll hunt you down."

He nodded anxiously and ran hurriedly away like a little mouse as soon as I released him.

I walked into the Slytherin common room and silently thanked every god and goddess known to man that not one person was in it. They must either be enjoying the sunshine out in the school grounds or taking an afternoon nap (bless them). The common room was exactly as I remember it, with the black leather couches, green and silver snake tapestries, and the cold atmosphere.

I took one last look around, and then bolted down the stairs to my left. The stairs led me deeper into the dungeons, and the air felt relatively colder. I saw a long, stone corridor at the end of the stairs. Doors stood in a row on the opposite walls. Torches blazed with fire wherever there was a blank wall. Fortunately, there were little signs on the doors that say things such as "First Year Boy's Dormitories". I looked around for the sixth years' dormitories and immediately found it halfway down the corridor. I entered it and found four more doors inside it. I stopped in the middle of the room of doors, taking deep breaths, unsure what to open first. Then I thought, "Screw this. I'm going in," and entered the door opposite me.

It was a rectangular room, entirely unlike the Gryffindor dormitories, which are circular. There were five four-poster beds, two on my left and two on my right, and one facing the door. The beds have heavy green curtains on them, probably to keep out the cold. Though flame torches were lit on every side of the wall, it was still dark and damp inside. The room was empty, except for a slim figure of a boy, sitting like a prince on the bed facing the door, who lifted his head of blond hair as soon as I stepped through the doorway. Lucky for me to have picked out the right room.

"What are you doing here?" Draco spat out, dropping the book he was reading, and stood up to face me. "How did you get in here?"

"It doesn't matter. I have to tell you something really important."

"Get out," he ordered, his eyes showing no mercy. "My roommates would be here to pound you any minute."

"Just listen for a second and I promise I won't disturb you for the rest of your life," I pleaded, trying hard not to fall onto my knees.

Draco stood silently for a moment, seemingly considering my offer, and then sat back down on his bed. "Go ahead. But nothing you say will change what I think of you."

"I know," I said quietly. "Look, I've been really, really stupid."

"Tell me something I don't know, Potter," Draco interfered. His gray eyes looked at me without any trace of emotion, not even anger.

"Well," I continued as I swallowed hard. It was getting more and more difficult to talk as my mouth turned dry. "Everything I told you a few nights ago, I didn't mean them. I'm sorry. I don't know what made me say that. Believe me, I don't hate you."

I studied his face to see if there was any change on his expression. There was none. He looked down at me with cold, blank, gray eyes. "But you do, Potter. You hate me."

"I... I," I closed my eyes tight and turned my head down. My heart hurt so badly that I shouted the next words. "Alright! I hate you, okay?! I can't even bear to look at you because you make me feel weak! Just seeing you sitting there, staring at me without sympathy, makes me want to cringe and break into a million pieces! You're the only person who can make me fall onto my knees with helplessness, and I hate you for that! I despise you for making me feel so damn pathetic!"

"I can't understand you right now, Potter." I could almost hear the irritation and curiosity in his voice. "Unless you want to explain more coherently, or I'll kick you out."

"I like you, alright," I yelled. There, I said it. There was no taking back what's been said. I became aware of the fact that my cheeks were wet with tears, and I silently fell to my knees. "I wouldn't be lying if I said that I might be falling in love with you. You make me lose my wits whenever I recall the times you touch me. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't even walk properly. Whenever I do sleep, you're always there plaguing my dreams. I have never wanted anything so badly in my life that I don't even care anymore that everyone would die if I disregard my responsibilities... just as long as I'm with you." I brought my arms up and hid my head under them. "Now, please, if you don't want any part of this madness, say it now and leave me be. Or just kill me, if you will. I don't fucking care."

"You're so stupid," Draco sniggered. "You want me to kill you?"

I looked up to see him standing over me. "Will you?" I asked uncertainly.

"The problem with you, Potter, is that you don't give a damn about what other people want."

"If you want to kill me now, you're more than welcome to."

"What if I don't want to kill you?"

"You can just let me go and let me kill myself."

"And what if I don't want to do that either?"

I looked at his eyes again and tried to read them. "Then what do you want?"

He looked a little uneasy as he took a deep breath. "What if I want you to spend the rest of your life with me?"

"If you're just saying this out of sympathy, please stop. I'd rather die than live with this guilt that you're only with me because you're forced to be with me. I'm not forcing you to do anything."

He suddenly became irritated. "Potter, did you ever stop to think that maybe I meant what I said?"

"Damn it, Draco!" I yelled angrily. "If you mean it, just tell me so! I'm hurt enough as it is!"

"Yes, you idiot, I mean it!"

I stopped. I even felt like I stopped beating. I was overwhelmed at the probability that maybe he truly had feelings for me. "Does that mean..."

"Yes, Potter, I like you. Yes, I think I'm also in love with you. And yes, I'm sorry for being stupid."

I never thought that Draco Malfoy would ever say such things, and it made me want to laugh out loud. But the meaning of those words also made me want to cry out. Emotions came rushing to me like a tidal wave that all I could do was stare at his gray eyes and drown in my sentiments.

Draco, however, looked at me with contentment and mockery at seeing me so overcome with emotion. "Would you, please, get off of the floor, now, Mr. Potter?"

I sniffed loudly and stood up, wiping my tears with the back of my hand.

"We look stupid," Draco remarked. He directed a locking spell to the door as he took me by the hand and led me to his four-poster.

"Yeah, well, love makes people look stupid."

I sighed loud enough to make him look at me. When he did, I grabbed him by the head and kissed him firmly on the lips. As he responded favorably at my assault, I thought, I would have to thank Luna for this.

~-~-~-~-~

It is safe to say that I have never felt such happiness. Those remaining months of the school year I have spent mostly with Draco. No one ever knew about us except for Luna, who strangely kept away from me on those happy days. Maybe she thought she was now of no use to me, having served her purpose. But she knew that I deeply thank her. She knew everything, anyway.

I, then, went back to the Dursleys for the summer vacation, whispering pleasant words and promises to Draco before we departed. I didn't care that I was going back again to the Dursleys. I was satisfied that Draco was with me, and nothing in the world could change it.

It was in a midsummer's night, however, while I walked through the neighborhood, that everything I have ever known took a twist into uncertainty.

TBC...

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