The Perfect Imperfection

"You don't honestly expect me to believe that do you?" I stared at him, absolutely stunned. Stunned, and insulted I might add. To think I'd believe such a cock-and-bull story was absurd to say the absolute least.

"...It's the truth. It's the God honest truth. Why would I lie to you?" His lips were dry and his eyes never left the floor. Good. I certainly didn't want to look at them.

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me? You're the one with all the secrets, all the answers!" I was losing it, I knew. But how can you stop two trains from colliding? You can't. How can you stop Draco Malfoy from getting what he wants? You can't. You really, really can't.

* * *

Well, of course you could give it a shot. That's what he did. But, he learned quickly enough not to deny me of my needs. Needs and wants. Each as important as the other, you know...I'm sure I sound like the arrogant bastard, but I believe that if you think hard enough, you'll realize that it's the other way around. *He's* the one who struts around like he owns the damn place. *He's* the one who never had to work for a fucking thing in his entire life. Not that I've done much real work, but curses and hexes are pretty tiring, let me tell you.

Even so, he gets what he wants all the time. Why shouldn't I get what I want? There, you see? There's no reason. No reason at all.

Anyway, as I was saying. Needless to say, he was a bit surprised when he found out what I wanted. Maybe that's why he was so resistant...or maybe it was because he wanted it, too, only he didn't want me to know. But I already knew. Oh, almost everybody knew. Everybody important, anyway. It's no big secret. Harry's about as flaming as that stupid Weasley's hair. He never learned to keep it down. Then again, what *had* he learned? If you ignore everything he does with his mouth-absolutely nothing.

He wasn't really as scared of me as the others had been. I admire that in a person. To be scared when you know you should. Don't pretend to get brave with me, everybody knows I could take out an entire Hogwarts house with one call to my father. For once, brave and courageous Harry Potter kept his mouth shut. Silent consent, as I saw it. Of course there isn't much you can do, pinned against a wall without your wand. He liked it, I knew. There we no signs of protest when my lips met his. Not a single protest as my tongue glided down the smooth skin of his neck. And I was most certainly not pushed away when my hand wound it's way down into his boxers.

He liked getting it just as much as I liked giving it. It's a strange feeling, really, to have your worst enemy, the person you hate more than anybody in the world, writhing beneath you. In pleasure or pain, it doesn't really matter. At least, not to me, and this is all about me, remember? It's all about being in power and in control. Where I like being best. Harry might act like he's on top of the world, but the only person on top is me. Secretly, he enjoys not being the front man. He says he hates it, but if he does, why does he meet me outside the dungeon every other night? And why would he go through such great lengths to keep the truth hidden from me? He knows I'll find out eventually and that'll be the end of it, the end of us. He hates thinking about it, I know. I know him as well as I know my own broom.

That's the way it is with the person you love.

* * *

He stayed silent, his glasses sliding slowly down the bridge of his nose.

"That's what I thought. I knew you were a whore, Harry. I just had no idea you were the whore of Hogwarts." It took every ounce of strength I had not to slap him across his face. He would've liked it too much.

"Draco...Draco I reall-"

"Save it, Potter. Save it for somebody who cares. Because right now, that person isn't me."