The Perfect Imperfection

Cursing under my breath, I pulled my hand back toward my chest, wincing at the sight of the blood-laced wall. Stupid prick. Only Malfoy could make me feel this way. Which way that is, I'm not exactly sure. Upset, angry, depressed, annoyed, spiteful, vengeful and even...hurt. God forbid he ever find out about that. To let him know that he hurts me is to give a pyromaniac your best inflamare spell.

No, it's definitely best that he knows nothing about the way I feel. That's just the way things are-the way things have to be. We meet each other for sex, that's all. Maybe the occasional conversation, but it would never go beyond a fuck and a talk. Never. Not that I would want it to, or anything like that...honest.

So here I am. Famous Harry Potter, able to defeat any Quidditch team and Voldemort alike, but I can't even stand up to a petty Slytherin. He likes to say, more for the benefit of himself than for me, I'm sure, that he has a hold on me. As much as I hate to admit it, he's right. Sure, I can throw an insult or two his way when needed, but I can't squander the little voice in the back of my head that tells me to give in. The voice that tells me it's okay to let him have his way with me. The little voice that got me into all this trouble in the first place.

* * *

I stood thunderstruck inside the dungeon, staring blankly as he casually let the door close behind him. Rough fingertips slowly ran across the length of my still warm lips as I let the situation really sink in. I knew he wanted me. I mean, after the situation in the hall it was only obvious. And, well, meeting him at the lake didn't seem like too bad of an idea. He was good, I can say that much. Not better than I could've done, as he stated, but close. And then again, most of the guys I had been with were "good." However, I did feel that with him...good could only become better. Perhaps that's why I didn't bother to push him away when I had the chance.

Walking out of the dungeon, I wandered aimlessly through the hallways of the school debating what I should do. To give in to Malfoy would be a strange thing, but it would also be living out a fantasy that I must admit, crossed my mind readily more than once. Maybe I wanted him a little more than I thought. "A thin line between love and hate" and all that such. But, I think for me...it was a thin line between lust and hate. That must've been it. Why else would a late night meeting at the lake appeal to me so much?

I don't know how long he was waiting for me on the outskirts of the forest, leaning casually against the trunk of a large tree, throwing pebbles into the lake nearby. He looked absolutely striking. I hated to admit it, but the usual strange white glow of his hair looked amazing in contrast to the darkness that surrounded us. I was sure to take my time walking over to him, still not entirely positive meeting him here was the right move. The wet dew already present on the grass soaked through my socks and the hem of my robes, sending a chill up my spine. I think it was the cold that made me shiver, anyway.

"I figured you'd come, Potter. It's a rare thing when people don't." He didn't bother taking his eyes off the lake as he spoke.

"You do this often then?" I arced a brow as frowned pulled on the corner of my lips, annoyed that what I said came out entirely too whiney. He gave an artful smirk and finally fixed those cold eyes of steel on mine.

"Don't get jealous, now. Rest assured I won't be thinking of them when I finally get around to fucking with you." Draco rolled his eyes, but my sudden blanch at his caviler attitude to the whole thing obviously didn't go unnoticed by the blond one.

"Well that is why you're here, isn't it? You didn't show up just to discuss the latest issue of The Daily Prophet, did you?" Of course, it goes without saying that he was right. I upturned my shoulders in a light shrug and took a few more steps closer to him, absentmindedly running a hand through my tangled mess of ebony hair. I wasn't exactly sure what I had anticipated happening, but I promise that I had no clue things were going to move along the way they did. Before I had a chance to open my mouth, his lips were on mine.

I couldn't help but grin through the kiss, recalling a conversation I had had with a 6th year Hufflepuff once. Draco Malfoy is perfectly aware of what he wants and has no problems trying to get it. Of course, what he wants usually isn't a "what" but a "whom." He thinks he keeps his escapades quiet, but people talk. People always talk. I wondered just how hard he had tried for everybody else compared to how hard he was trying with me. I certainly wasn't throwing myself at him-which did take a lot of restraint- but I wasn't giving him much of a fight, either.

Not realizing it, my hands had traveled up his sides and through silky strands of platinum. Somehow I knew what it would feel like to run my fingers through his hair. It's always the mean ones that are soft to the touch. As if on cue, my eyelids slowly closed and I tilted my head to the side, letting him slip that velvet tongue right past my lips. I retaliated, just barely gliding my tongue along the glistening surface of his lips, while pushing myself against him. His hands were all over me, strong and experienced. I blissfully sighed as he slipped those cool fingers up, under my shirt and along my chest, causing me shivers all over.

I pulled away from him, long enough to catch a brief glance at his face. His cheeks were flushed and he was biting down hard on his lower lip. For a fleeting instant he reminded me of a little boy. As great as he may have been in bed, I'm sure he-just like myself-had no idea exactly what we were getting ourselves into by doing this. It didn't matter to me at the time, and as quickly as I had glanced up to him, I glanced away only to flutter small kisses up along his jawbone.

Sucking at the tender spot behind his ear, I pulled my hands down to the clasps of his robe, trying inexpertly to unfasten the buttons and take it off. Like always, he was one step ahead of me, having already undone mine, he moved along to his and in no time our robes; as well as our shirts, were lying in a pile on the grass.

The cool air hit me as suddenly as our first kiss, and I gasped, immediately wrapping my arms around my chest in a desperate attempt to gain some heat. I heard him give a small chuckle before he wrapped his arms around me again, and pulled me closer, inadvertently grinding our hips against each other. Heaven is the only word I can think of to describe it. Heaven.

"Let's see if we can't do something about warming you up, hmmm?" He purred into my ear before grabbing my arms and pushing them down to my sides. Sure enough, the minute he started his wet descent down my chest, I forgot all about the frigid air around us. His tongue glided with ease around my nipples and along the length of my abdomen, causing low moans to slip out from between my barely parted lips. It was a surreal experience...To have the Draco Malfoy on his knees in front of me. I wasn't quite sure what to make of it all, but the thought was pushed from my mind as he undid my pants and pulled them down to my ankles.

I arced a brow over the rim of my glasses, and stared down at him. He looked up at me with a glint in his eyes I had only seen once before, the day after he managed to get me, Ron, and Hermione all a detention in Snape's class. Everybody always knew he was mischievous, but I wondered just how many of them knew exactly what he really enjoyed doing with me. An unmistakable grin spread across his face as he tucked his fingertips underneath the hem of my boxers, threatening to pull them down. Slowly, I turned my head away from him and closed my eyes, taking in the full realization of what was about to happen.

Draco's flings with other people had never crossed my mind before until that night. I wondered just how many people he had been with. You certainly don't get that good without a lot of practice.

Honestly? Honestly, I had never ever felt anything quite like what it was that he was doing to me. Naturally, I'd had my fair share, but this...this just blew my mind. Pardon the pun. He was incredible. I could feel every inch of myself being taken over by a feeling of pure pleasure. Nothing but pleasure. Every lick...every suck was an experience to remember.

I'm not sure how long it lasted, but it ended with a feeling so fierce, so intense, that I can only remember my strangled cry as my quivering knees finally gave out from under me, and I found myself on the grass beside him. My breath was ragged and forced, as I lay on the ground, finally finding the strength to open my eyes and look up at the man who had caused all of this. He was smiling, almost a grin of sorts, obviously pleased with himself, as he absentmindedly brushed a few strands of hair off my sweat drenched forehead.

"Not so cold now, are you Potter?"

Tracing cool fingertips down my side, he continued to stare straight at me. I didn't think it was a question that really required an answer, so I merely gave a muffled noise and swallowed hard before closing my eyes again, trying to figure out what I was going to do next. But of course, that time, and every time since, Draco had already figured it out for me.

* * *

Wrapping a thin bandage around my now bruised and bloodied hand, I finally left the empty room. I knew he wouldn't be back for me this late. Not that I had expected...or even wanted him to come back. Just another fight. He thinks I'm lying to him again. Well, maybe I am. But if he knows I am, then what's the point of getting mad about it? I guess that's just the way he is. Always wanting to keep his hands on things that "belong to him." Things like me. Maybe I wouldn't have to lie to him if he'd give it a rest. If he would treat me the way I'd like him to. The way he should.

I never wanted things to be the way they are. He knows that. I thought he'd have his way and get over me...neither of us expected it to go on for as long as it did. I don't think either of us expected me to go along with it to begin with. To this day, I'm not sure why I did. It would've saved us both a lot of struggling for me to have just shoved him off. Of course I wanted him, I mean it is Draco Malfoy, but why let him have what he wants? Because it's what I wanted, too? Stupid reason. I could've stopped this all at any time, he knows, I know, I could've stopped all this shit in one instant, but I didn't. Now, though, it's much too late.

Things have been out of my hands for a while now, out of both of our hands, in all actuality. It seems we can't really escape each other, even when I'm sure we'd be so much better off without each other. Even when our "relationship" (and I use the term loosely, as fucking each other senseless every few days and occasionally having a chat in the corner hardly constitutes as a relationship, and yet it's much more than merely being acquainted with somebody) seems like the worst possible thing in the world, that's when I try the hardest to convince myself it's the best. It seems insane we'd even continue this elaborate charade of "friends with benefits" and not just end it all in one clean swoop. But tell me, how can you turn your back on the person that you care about more than anybody else in the world? Even if he doesn't feel the same way about you.

As I made my way into the Gryffindor common room, I passed Ron and Hermione, completely engrossed in each other in the corner. Of course I love my best friends, as anybody would, but they really do make me jealous. They'll never know, naturally, but it's the truth. I almost wish I could have a relationship like that. One not torn up by bitterness and jealousy, one not based solely around sex, one not hidden from virtually every person alive. Not that I would want a relationship like that with him...No, perfect relationships like Ron and Hermione's are for people who love each other. Not for people who live with unrequited love. Not for people like me.