Breaking Harry. Or, the True Meaning of Friendship

Malfoy has always hated Harry with a passion that is terrifying. He's always wanted to get to Harry, to have him, to hurt him, possess him, to break him. Ever since Harry chose Ron in our first year, Malfoy has gone out of his way to cause Harry pain, and that hatred he feels has been festering inside of him, always near the surface as through the years it has evolved, morphed, strengthened into something so powerful that his eyes are filled with a hatred so strong that he can't see anything else. And Harry used to nurse a passion of hatred that was much the same, if not quite as intense, but now Harry's feelings have changed he doesn't see it anymore. And Harry's feelings have changed. Because they're sleeping together - fucking each other - and he thinks that that means as much to Malfoy as it does to him, and he refuses to see when Ron and I tell him otherwise. He won't believe us, won't listen, when we tell him that Malfoy loathes him still, is toying with him, playing him, wants to destroy him.

And Harry doesn't understand when we tell him that if he doesn't stop this thing with Malfoy, if he keeps it up and lets that crackling hatred he had for him turn into something else, something just as passionate, then Malfoy is going to break him so completely that no amount of love and affection will be able to put him back together, and that when he does, Malfoy is going to laugh. So we watch as Harry pushes us away, rages at us for not being happy for him, for not being able to see past the petty hatred of our younger days, we watch as we become the only people to see that when Malfoy's silver eyes rest on Harry, they are filled with nothing but poison and loathing, and only we understand what it will mean.

"Harry is ours," I tell him, "and we won't let you hurt him."

He looks up at me through hooded eyes and pale lashes as his silvery feather-like hair obscures his face and his lips shape themselves into a grin of pure malice.

"Yours, Granger?" He says in mock surprise. "What makes you so sure? He's not talking to you, Mudblood. He loathes you because you loathe me, and every night he lies between my thighs, and screams my name as he comes, Granger, and whether you like it or not, Potter is mine to do with as I please."

Here he pauses, and laughs, and the sound is not pleasant. His eyes glint as I give an involuntary shudder of fear, and he continues.

"To do with as I please, Granger, and hurting him pleases me, Mudblood. He begs me to hurt him, sometimes, Granger. And when I do, when I take him so hard that he bleeds, he can't help but come so hard that he blacks out. Every night I taste his blood and he loves it, and if you try to stop it you'll lose him for good. If you try to tell him he's wrong about my feelings for him, he'll hate you because he's not yours, he's mine. And only mine."

I shudder the next time I see Harry, because I know that what Malfoy said to me was true, and that underneath his clothes, Harry's body is covered with the bruises and marks that show Malfoy's ownership, that Harry let him put there.

So we watch as Harry gazes at Malfoy, captivated by the Slytherin's crystalline features and icy beauty, as his Avada Kedavra eyes follow Malfoy, as he lights up when the object of his affections - the object of his downfall - walks into a room. And we watch as Malfoy's calculating stare follows Harry, how when Harry isn't looking those silver eyes show pure hatred and contempt, but when Harry turns to Malfoy, those eyes clear, showing no emotion, and a smile graces his features, the picture of angelic innocence and he looks at us, and smirks triumphantly and we know now that it's too late to save Harry from being hurt.

He's falling now, entranced and enamoured by silver eyes and silvery hair and a silver tongue coated with honey-sweet poison and false promises and fake proclamations of love. He's lost in the salty-sweet taste of Malfoy's skin and sweat and blood and come, in nights they've spent together, limbs and bodies entangled intimately. And he's never noticed how those eyes are emotionless even as that tongue tells Harry how much he loves him, how Malfoy claims him over and over again, and never lets himself be claimed, and we know that soon, Harry's going to land. Hard. He's let Malfoy have him, take him. He's given his heart and when Harry utters those three fatal words - I love you - Malfoy's going to take that precious gift hat Harry's given him, he's going to take Harry's heart and crush it, slowly but surely, destroy it. And then he's going to put it on display for all the world to see - 'How I broke the Boy Who Lived' - and he's going to laugh when he does it. And Ron and I? We'll be there to fix Harry when he breaks.