[mind over (you don't) matter]

Every Little Thing he does is Magic

pinkmoons — Wed, 30 May 2007 01:40:38 GMT

Title- Ever Little Thing He Does is Magic, (Every Little Thing Turns Me On)
Pairing- PatrickxPeter
Author- Me. Gamblore.
Rating- Um, PG13 for naughty words.
Disclaimer- I don't own them. This is fiction, most likely. I wish it wasn't, but hey, we don't always get what we want.
AN- For the PXP Ficathon. I hope you like this. I'm sorry you didn't get this earlier, but, I liked writing, it, and I'm glad I got to. It something I've wnted to write for awhile, and when Chrissy told me I'm the back up writer for this, because she knew how much I wanted to write this crossover. I hope this is what you wanted. For loversdance Thank smugglers_prize for the well, everything!
Summary- Everything he does is magic, every little thing turns me on...
Prompts used- Prompt # 3: Anything goes, but there must be a reference to Harry Potter and/or a creepy fetish. You kids don't know how much I've wanted to do this crossover. I've had noted on what houses they would be in.the whole deal. I still have most of them, but I'm not doing that now. Instead, you get this.

Patrick thinks that maybe, Pete really did lose his mind this time around. In fact, he is sure of it.

Pete was going around telling everyone that would listen, (which is surprisingly very few people, but this is Pete Wentz we are talking about) that he had a dream he was in Hogwarts, and he could do magic now. He swears it, on Dumbledore's grave, he could make things fly through the air. He even showed a those few unlucky people.

Patrick was fairly sure, that Pete just threw whatever object was close to Pete, and yell at people to, "Check it out, I can make it fly motherfuckers!", when people were't paying attention. Mostly, things were flung towards Dirty, who didn't think anything of it, it happens to him all the time.

When Patrick himself got hit in the head with a beaten old copy of "The Old Man and the Sea", Patrick knew he needed to take action.

xxxxx

For a week after the first dream, when Pete was showing off his magic tricks, Patrick would honestly, just laugh at him. He assumed it was just a phase, and Pete would grow out of it, and just happened to be acting all of 8 just to annoy the shit out of other people. However, when Pete whipped out his wand, Patrick slyly told Pete that maybe, three times a week with the threapy just wasn't anough.

Then Pete started telling people about his wand; 10 inches, made of maple, (Patrick quickly asked if there was maple trees in England, Pete just glared.) with a Phoenix feather as it's core. It's great for charms.

As if Pete needed more help on charm.

Patrick slowly got used to Pete having the wand with him all the time, in his back pocket.

However, Patrick did sort of, kind of, ok, really freaked out when a glass of water refilled itself. What really got him though, was he swore he heard Pete whisper the word, "Aguamenti!".

Pete just smiled, and drank the whole glass of water in one gulp.

xxxxxx

Patrick now thought he was the one losing his mind. He kept seeing Pete do these, "spells", and frankly, he was starting to get a little scared. When he finaly got over the Water Thing, he started noticing Pete doing magic all the time. What really got him, was when he was going through the famous Song Notebook, and out of nowhere it fly out of his hands, into Pete's room in the older man's house.

Patrick screamed. He followed the notebooks trail to Pete's room, which ok, was their room but it was one of those things that Wasn't Talked About Ever; the second Patrick made it to the room, he started in on Pete. "For fuck's sake Pete! I'm fucking losing my mind, will you please explain what the shit is going on? I don't think I can stand this anymore! There is no such thing as magic, so what the fuck dude?"

It took everything Patrick had in him not to go punch Pete in the neck when Pete simpley smiled at him. "Dude. I told you I'm a wizard. I had a dream that I was in Hogwarts, and I got sorted into Gryffindor, and when I woke up, I could do magic! I woke up with a Goddamn wand beside me, and I'm just going with the flow, you know?"

Patrick's resolve was wearing thin, "Going with the flow? I'm, I'm just.. magic? Why didn't you like, sit me down and explained this to me earlier? You just left me in the fucking dark, douche bag."

"Well, can you do magic?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Then you wouldn't understand. People are gonna see me as a freak, well, en more so, but, whatever. I like who I am. Sorry you can't deal with it." Pete huffed out, and rolled his eyes, all while twirlling his wand.

Patrick walked quickly over to where Pete was on the bed, and punched him in the neck, and walked away.

xxxxxx

So, a few days later, Pete and Patrick had a talk, and Patrick finaly calmed down, or most likely, just accepted that Pete was a wizard. Sure, he would jump if something just fly across the room, or if all of a suddent, he would be Accio into their bedroom. Pete would be on the bed, naked, and he would grin and Patrick, and made a gesture with his hands that meant, 'Get naked now.' Times like that were the ones where Patrick would gleefully think in his head, Oh man, I love magic.

Pete always has a fun time showing people his magic. Beckett would just show up at the house, and after three days, he would leave, cause he thought that the house was haunted, or he was drinking to a little to much. Pete would just laugh it off, and pat William on the back, while directing him out of the house.

Oh yeah, Patrick really loved magic.

xxxxxx

About a month after this whole ordeal started, Patrick woke with a start, wide eyed and blinking rapidly. He turned his head to face Pete, who as also awake, and grinning. Patrick looked back to his pillow, and spotted a wand, (11 inches, made of ask, unicorn hair, great for transfiguration) and a Hufflepuff crest patch.

"I was realling hoping we would be in the same house, so I could sneak into your dorm at night and do naughty things to you with my wand, Patrick. But now, I get to sneak out of my house, and get into yours!" Pete was now sitting up, talking fastly, and sweeping his bangs out of his face. He leaned over to kiss Patrick on his temple, while Patrick was picking up his wand.

After feeling it's weight in his hands, he said the first spell that came to mind, "Lumos", and when the land lit up, he whispered "Jesus", with a shakey breath.

"See," said Pete, "I told you magic was real. Well, more so than what we have together. But, yeah, magic! Want to go make Dirty spout tentacles?"

"That was amazingly cliche, but yes, yes I do."

Hours later when Dirty woke up, sounds of screaming filled the house, and Pete giggling and saying, "Dude, shut up! I can make them go away if you can just calm the fuck down for a minute. No, asshole, this isn't just you smoking too much pot, now sit down and stop screaming!"

'Yup', Patrick thought, 'I really do love magic'.

read/review

Unknown to Everyone But Dirty.

pinkmoons — Wed, 30 May 2007 00:50:13 GMT

Title- Unknown To Everyone But Dirty
Author- Gamblore
Rating- PG13 - mention of smoking pot.
Pairing- PXP
Summery - Dirty, that's right, Dirty reflects.
A/N- I thought more people should write about Dirty in fics. No, not people fucking Dirty, cause *EW*, but just have him there. This is from Dirty's POV. Thanks to my betas. They know who they are. Also, to Dirty, cause the guy is really cool. Sans the whole eating his puke thing. *shudders*
Disclaimer- I don't, nor will I ever own them. So, one, two, better not sue!
PS- I'm weird about this one, because it IS different. SO, yeah, hope you like it. Also, this is for the PxP July Challenge.

You see, Pete has this thing about sleeping alone. It doesn't happen. Not that I've been asked to sleep with him, well, next to him because nothing happens, but it's because you don't get asked. It happens. He finds his way into your bunk, and cuddles WITH you. It would be cute, if he didn't smell so bad all the time.

But here's the point of me telling you this:

The one bed he goes to the most is Patrick’s. They don't do anything and I know. I've looked. What? I really wanted to know! Anyway, see, how they sleep is cute. Patrick curls a hand into Pete’s hair, and rubs, softly. Pete has his head tucked into Patrick’s shoulder, drooling a little, but honestly, I doubt they care.

It's the saddest, and sweetest thing you will ever see, I can promise you that. They are best friends, and they plan on staying just that. I'm sure they have talked about being more, I mean, look at them, there is so much love there it hurts. I know it hurts Pete at the very least, but I bet you a million joints, Patrick said no because he didn't want to lose Pete.

And in case you are wondering, yes, their girlfriends know. At least, I think they do, how could they not? Jeanae gets pissy about it. It's this that starts all the fights, and all the drama leads Pete back into Patrick’s bed, every night. And Anna? It's like she just KNOWS, you know? She doesn't say anything, but in her heart, I have a feeling that one day, she and Patrick will have the talk of 'I'm sorry, but I can't be without him anymore. I can't believe I hurt you, please don't hate me.' and Anna won't. You can't hate someone when you know they mean it, and you can't hate some one for following their heart; it's wrong. But, that's years off, to the point where it may never happen.

You see, I love them, they are my best friends. Even if they do kind of treat me like shit. Pete likes to make me eat my own puke, and Patrick just stares at me because I know he hasn’t ever really liked me, but I do care about him, so it’s really weird. But I trust them with my life. However, if you try to tell either one of them that they do love each other, in *that* way, you are going to get a sock full of nickels to the head. Yes, Wentz has a sock full of nickels just for that reason. One would think that at some point you would listen to everyone around you, saying just do it already, be together, but it doesn't work. I guess they have to do it in their own time.

I once heard Patrick tell Pete 'I dreamt of you last night' when he woke up. I swear on my life I could hear Pete grin. I know I did hear him giggle and ask 'What about?' And I think I heard Patrick blush, though, that might have just be Joe snoring, I don't really know. But I never heard what Patrick said, and I tried. He whispered it so softly, I don't even think Pete heard it, but he had to have. Pete had a frown for days, and kept glancing back at Patrick every so often, which was about every five minutes, give or take. Yes, I counted. And Patrick? He didn't look any better. For three nights Pete slept with me. But he never faced me, and I sure as fuck wasn’t sleeping, because having Pete in bed with me felt wrong, like I stole him away from something and I didn’t do anything wrong!

At the end of day four, Pete was in his bunk, clicking away on his sidekick when I heard Patrick crawl into Pete's bunk with a whispered, tear-choked 'I'm sorry.' And all Pete said was, 'k'. I assumed everything was fine after that, but Pete didn't crawl back into my bunk again, unless it was to ask me if I wanted to play 'eat something off the ground'. Or his favorite, 'how far will this go up Dirty's ass?'

Which, granted, that’s what I’m getting paid to do, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it. But it makes Pete smile, and again, I get paid to be stupid. It’s really an easy life. You’ve heard me scream “I love my life!” before, and I still scream it all the time. I hate not being around these guys, annoying them, laughing, or just hanging out.

But, you know what I miss the most? Watching my best friend watch his best friend, trying to figure out what all of this means. I’ve seen them give each other the smallest of kisses before a show. Not the, ‘I’m secretly dating him and I want to kiss now’ kind of kiss. It was a, ‘This is how best friends try to get rid of nerves and we are only friends, Christ stop asking us that!’ kind of kiss. At least, from what I have been told anyway.

The truth of the matter is, there is so much love there, it’s frightening. It’s the type of love you wish you had, cry for into your pillow, and pray for every night. They are very lucky to have each other, and they both know it. They don’t to ruin it by ‘being together.’ For now, I guess, this is enough for them, even if they know that’s not the truth. They stare at each other with such want, such longing, it will even break your heart.

So, there you go FOBrock boardies! Now you know where and how the line, ‘Like kisses on the necks of ‘just friends’” comes from, and why Patrick does sound like he is saying “best friends”. I’m gonna go get stoned with Jewcakes… ok, well, more stoned with him. Is that even a thing someone can do? Fuck, my buzz is off, so the Deep Thoughts of Dirty end here.

Read/Review.

Dear Your Name Here.

pinkmoons — Wed, 30 May 2007 00:31:09 GMT

Title- Dear Your Name Here Author- Me, gamblore Pairing- PatrickxPeter, duh. Rating- Um. PG maybe? It's angst. Summery- Patrick should have never looked, or you know, maybe looked sooner at those pesky interwebs. AN- . And um, my prompt from her was - "the lyrics The sea's wine red, this is the death of beauty. The doves have dies, the lovers have lied." Unbeta, and I will most likely have to edit so the spacing is right. Disclaimer- I don't own Fall Out Boy. I don't know any of them. Lyrics are The Hush Sound, the song is Wine Red. I only kind of own the idea. And sadly? I don't own Hemmy either. One would think that maybe, just maybe. Patrick could change him. The Great Peter Wentz. If you were one of those people, you are very much so mistaken. The person has to want to change on their own, so it doesn't matter if the person they love is hurting. However, Pete was finally at the point of thinkging about changing. Patrick saw him start taking his meds again. He wasn't spending all his night at home, on his sidekick reading emails and talking to Hemmy as if was a real person. But Patrick also noticed that Pete's eye changed. They didn't have this manic look in them anymore, the looked, almost dead. Patrick just assumed that Pete was finally maturing, and acting his age. Or that possibly, LA was getting to his boyfriend. So, as any good person would do, in love with so or not, he devoted himself to Pete's needs. He did go out anymore, and stayed in nights taking care of the dog, (which Patrick didn't really undertsand why Pete kept the dog, it was only a painful reminder of Jeanae anyway, or so he thought) and of course, watched old movies with his Pete. Just when Patrick thought things were getting better, things, shifted again. Patrick noticed that Peter never slept anymore. The bottles that held Pete's sanity were throw out on a whim, Pete saying he couldn't be himself on them, and that he should always be himself no matter what. That nothing should make him change himself. When those words were said, Pete often glared at Patrick, and then would call Hemmy into the bedroom, and shut the door, leaving Patrick to sleep in a guest room wondering just what the fuck he had done this time. Pete started acting, well, weird. And for Peter Wentz, that was saying something. If the phone would ring, Pete would scream DON'T ANSWER IT IT'S FOR ME, and would go to a random room int he house, shutting and locking the door behind him. Of course Patrick should have questioned it, but he didn't. He found that loving Pete was hard enough, and saw no reason to make it even harder. It was when Pete started going out all the time, and not inviteing Patrick, that he, Patrick, started getting worried. He started asking Pete what he was doing all the time, and Pete would wave him off with a simple, "Oh, you know, working. I gotta make shirts to sell them, Patrick." Or saying he was going to the recording studio - at midnight, because he had left his pent there. Now, granted, Patrick wasn't stupid, not in the least, he just didn't want to think his boyfriend, the man he left his girlfriend, came out to his parents for, (Pete said this would never work if Patrick was living a lie), and basically changed his fucking life for, was cheating on him. Now, naturaly, he assumed it was Jeanae, until one night Jeanae has called leaving a message saying how much she missed Hemmy, and would life to fly down and see Peter (as a friend, she even added that) if Petey would return her calls. Patrick had called her back. Not only was the conversation awkward, but at least it was useful. "Dude?" she has said, "Do you like, never go online? I mean, yeah, no one wants to read the shit that gets said about them, but really? Get over it and take the plunge Patrick." And after Patrick had said, yeah, ok, fine, she had added, "Listen, tell Pete to start his meds again, and that I'll take our dog back if he doesn't. I can't believe he is fucking this up with you dude. But then again, no one ever can understand the Great Pete Wentz." She hung up with out saying bye. He didn't have to search far, really. He used Pete's laptop because his only had his music programs, and it was in a different room, or at the studio, he couldn't remember. He just clicked favourites and went to PerezHilton.com. The pictures weren't worth a thousands words persay, but a thousand tears? Yeah. Patrick just stared blankly at the page. Granted, he didn't know the actress' name, but he knew what movies/TV shows she was in. The fucking Ice Princess. Numbly he remembered Pete saying if he had the chance to fuck her, he so would, dude, wouldn't you? So, Patrick wasn't the one living a lie. He didn't think about what was wrong with him, because being friends with Pete you learn very quickly that nothing really is your fault, Pete is just an asshole. He should have learned from Morgan, Jeanae, and Alicia, but no, he thought he could change him. (Alicia even said as much when she found out. Between her laughing fits and saying she should make shirts, before Mikey took the phone from her and said it's something all of them have tried once, what made him think he could fix Pete?) "Because I loved him." He noted he used the word loved as well, while still thinking of that memory, back when he used to say that he loves Pete, not in the past. He left Pete a note on what used to be their bed. The only thing keeping him sane at this point was knowing that, A- He tried. And B- At least Pete didn't bring her here to fuck. He placed the note on Pete's pillow, and pet Hemmy, (who looked sad, like he knew what was coming). It stated that no, he wasn't leaving the band, he didn't want that, but he was leaving this, and he would see him in the studio. Instead of signing his name he put this at the bottom. - The sea's wine red, this is the death of beauty. The doves have dies, the lovers have lied. Like I said, unbeta.

IM NOT DEAD

pinkmoons — Sun, 23 Apr 2006 06:53:52 GMT

Ok, so, when I finish the new fic I've been working on, I'll post it here. And I'll say the fandom now.

Fall Out Boy. That's right, REAL PEOPLE SLASH! Featuring, Patrick and Mr. Noodz, Pete.

Changed my layout, and I need new icons. Plus, I need to use this one again, for other fics I'm working on, plus, maybe a book that I've been toying with, and poems as well.

I wish it was paid so I could, you know, post polls and stuff, but I'll live.

I've missed this place, I just wish I could rename it.

Chapter 3 of him

pinkmoons — Wed, 18 May 2005 05:54:46 GMT

Chapter Three of Him.

“I hate God. It’s so simple, if there was truelly a God, he wouldn’t do this,” soft sobs, “to people, “ now choking back tears, “to me.”

The crumbling of a cookie. That’s the way Draco pictured it, well, saw it. The cookie, of course, was Harry’s soul. Draco and Harry were just laying there, in bed, open to anyone who thought to walk in the hospital wing. Both doubted each others truthfullness about the whole, ‘I Don’t care’ thing, but the played the part just the same.

“You know,” Draco said, moving Harry closer to him, whispering into the raven haried boy’s ear, “it could be worse.. You could have pimples, or, um, be additced to crack..” Harry did one of those things where the sound was between laughter, and tears

“What makes you think I don’t do drugs?”

“You would have told me. Wanna fag? I’m dying here..”

“God dammit Draco, quit knowing me so well.” Harry smiled, hoping it would hide some, if not all of his bitterness. “Yeah, sure, let’s smoke.”

Draco was unsettled by the ease of Harry’s voice, “Plus, I don’t really see weed as a drug, prese. I see it, like how I see butterbeer.”

“Bubbly and sickingly sweet?”

“Close.. but no. The happy feeling after the narsty sweet.” Draco sat up, “Well, come on, up you get.”

Harry whined, but propped himself up onto his elbows.

“I wish we could have music in here...”

~~~~

Draco woke up, again. This time he thankfully knew where he was, and whom he was with. “Stupid fucking dreams.” He rolled out of bed, to make himself some coffee. He heard a soft, faint whimper, but paid no attention to it.

“Mmm, please Draco.. come back to bed.” Harry coed. Fucking coed.

“You. Are. Not. Real.” And Draco walked away.

“You know I am real..” Harry sat up, “you were dreaming about it again, weren’t you? You said they stopped.” His voice was getting louder, “ You promised me they stopped.”

“Fuck off Harry. Look, I just want some fucking coffee. Not some ‘chat’ about dreams I am having, BUT, “ Before Harry interupted him again, “Yes, I am having the dreams again.”

“I don’t want it to be like last time, Draco. You nearly killed me last time. Please, “ a little sob, “Promise me..”

“Well, only if you can promise not to ever try to kill me again.” Draco tounge was full of biting acid.

Harry sobbed louder, and it didn’t help that Draco wouldn’t even look again. “That isn’t fair. That was years ago, I’ve changed. I no longer want you dead. All I want is to love you, and be with you for the rest of my life. You fucking know that. Make your own fucking coffee, I’m going out.” Harry got off the bed as quick as a flash of lightening, and was out of the room just as fast.

Draco didn’t sigh, or anything along those lines, he was not even mad at himself for saying what he said. Sure, Harry did promise him a long time ago never to try that again, but still. The dreams he had were of that night. It’s been nine years from that day, and through those nine years, he had that dream all the time. The stopped after he finally talked to Harry again, six years later. Draco had hoped that if talked to Harry after all that stalking, that would stop his dreams. Why it took him six years to do it Draco never once questioned that. He waited so long because he thought if he had talked to Harry before that, it would happen again.

Draco thought back to that night. It just happened to be the couple “first time”. Draco was the only person that would even talk to Harry. It was about a month after Harry woke up, after the whole killing Voldermort thing, and after they had their little chat, the one in which Harry explain that he wanted to kill himself, and tried to. Draco still didn’t understand why the curse didn’t work, but that didn’t matter.

Harry had invited Draco to the Gryffindor tower, and Draco said sure, fine. Both house didn’t speak to either of them, so they thought nothing of it. They sat together and yet alone and all meals. Looking back on it Draco couldn’t understand why Harry was so blind. Sure, they had kissed, many time, and sometimes, Draco would go down on Harry, but Harry would stop everything before he progressed. Never saying, ‘he wasn’t ready’ or anything like that. Draco never let Harry go down on them, and Harry tried to many times. After Harry wouldn’t let up on all the why questions, Draco had finally said, “Why can’t I fuck you, hrm?”

To which Harry replied, “Because you never asked.”

Anyway, present Draco stopped thinking for a little while, long enough to get himself some coffee. He hated how Harry took his coffee, though it was far to bitter. Amusing himself, he thought, ‘well, you know what they say..’, “I like my coffee the way I like my men..”

“Light, sweet and with a hint of spice.”

Draco could even hear the smile in his voice. “Look, Harry,” Draco turned around, “I still don’t want to talk about, I really am not ready for that yet.”

Harry frowned, but it wasn’t enough of one for Draco to notice, so at least he wouldn’t be getting the ‘don’t pout at me please’ song and dance. “Ok, fine. Make me some coffee as well, please.”

“You weren’t gone very long, were you dearest?” Draco used that chipper voice. It wasn’t that he wanted to get a rise out of Harry, he just wanted to make sure the other topic wouldn’t be brought back up. Hopefully.

“Well, you must have fallin back asleep, I’ve been gone for hours, at least five.”

“Oh, really, five. Well, where does the time go?” Draco said airly, bring there coffee cups to the table, setting them down,. and then doing the same himself. He looked up to Harry, who looked .like he was a billion light years away. It was the stare of impending doom, at least, that’s what Draco called it. Before Draco could say something to snap Harry out of it, Harry blinked a few times, smiled, and walked over to were Draco was, but didn’t sit down.

“I think I’ll take my coffee into the bedroom. The Prophet should already be in, and I feel like being alone for a little while.” Harry picked up his coffee, and left.

Draco of course, pouted, but knew he would lose this little battle of the wills at some point, in the near future most likely. Instead, he sat back, sipped his coffee and thought more about said fateful night.

Draco couldn’t remember dinner, or how he had Harry even got to the tower, he did remember lots of snogging a long the way, at one point Draco thought they wouldn’t make it to Harry’s room, all because that little raven hair boy would grind, hard, into Draco’s hips. Harry had to cup Draco’s mouth shut on the last one, a loud moan had escaped from his lips. It had turned Harry on, Draco smiled at that thought, but that was beside the point.

Draco couldn’t believe that after all these years he still could say the password to the tower. It has been, “tea party“, but, thinking harder, when you have your first shag and nearly die in the same night, things might just stay in detail. Nobody had even glanced at the pair of them making their way to Harry’s room. As Harry wasn’t Head Boy, he didn’t have his own room, but that didn’t seem to stop him. Faintly Ron or Hermione might have said something, but it didn’t seem to bother the two of them. Draco Harry on the staircase, close to where the room was, but at that moment, he needed more. Throwing cation to the wind, he very quickly had Harry on the stair, legs spread apart, and trying his hand at removing that top trouser button. Finally, Draco gave up and just popped it off, and unzipped the pants as fast as he could. “Before you try and stop me, I’m doing this Harry. I want to, and more than that, I need to, ok?” The note of pleading with that of making sure he hadn’t upset Harry seem to be ok with him, because by the time Draco had asked, Harry had partly opened his shirt, and was rubbing both his nipples.

“Mmmm, ah, what? Draco, please, Don’t stop, ok?” Harry answered the blond, not even hearing what the question was. Draco still doesn’t know if Harry ever heard, they never, ever, would even talk about that night.

Draco noticed though, that he, the now him, was starting to get hard. Choosing to ignore this, he went back into the memory.

Harry had was already hard, and Draco didn’t seem even a tiny bit startled by that. It was his intention after all. Draco took half a moment to look up at Harry, who in his turn was looking down at Draco, with a bit of funny look on his face. It was a mix between, ‘why the FUCK isn’t your mouth on my cock, and please don’t hurt me‘. It made Draco want to laugh, and pound him into whatever surface they might be on at the time. Harry even now sometimes give Draco that look.

Draco had barely even put his finger tips on the head oh Harry’s cock, and the skinny, small boy moaned. Loud. So loud Draco nearly stopped the whole thing and said fuck it, your room, but Harry never gave him the chance. In a quick movement, Harry had bucked his hips foward, making Draco caress the shaft. Draco chanced another look, and Harry was back to rubbing his nipples with one hand, and the other couldn’t seem to desided wither or not it wanted to burry itself in Draco’s hair, or dig it’s nails in his own hips. That made Draco’s smile wider, and started slowing moving his hand up and down. Harry moved himself in time with Draco’s hand, but it seen became apparent that Harry wanted more. Draco used his other hand, his left hand to softly, lightly cup Harry’s balls, and with the sound that came out of Harry you would have thought Harry would come at that second. Draco also noticed at that time, Harry’s wondering hand found a home. It had choose the hip, and he could see dark deep red marks in the pale sun starved skin. For a second Draco thought it was blood, so he leaned down and very quickly kissed one of the red marks, and when he did that, Harry wrapped the hand in Draco’s thin hair, and pulled. The pain was ok, so Draco thought better than telling Harry paws off the hair.

The sounds that were coming out of Harry were bordering on animalist and that frightened Draco some. But, going against his better judgment, leaned down, and barely licked the tip. and then, very quickly, took the head into his mouth.

Draco snapped out of the memory right then. He couldn’t bring himself to think about what happened after that. True, he loved Harry, but he had never forgivin him for that night. Still having a painfully erection though, and not wanting to crawl into bed with Harry, or do anything about himself, he drained his cup of coffee, got up, and made his way to the shower.

Lemons Challenge, part one.

pinkmoons — Tue, 17 May 2005 05:45:27 GMT

This is for the Lemon’s Challenge, Reverse Roles.

The ever fucking great Harry Potter strolled down the halls, and people trembled before him. And for good reason, he would hex them to hell and back if one person even dared look at him in anything but a scared fashion. Sure, everyone was a little timid of the Slytherins, but this was HArry Potter, King of the Slytherins, and noone understood why he was so, well, evil. Well, none but Dumbledore did. And he wasn’t talking to anyone about that. Could be that he sent Harry off to live with nasty muggles, or that Voldermorts transfer of power into Harry made him just more evil. But Harry never cared. No one ever challenged him, not even the twats in Gryffindor would try.

Sure, Harry had friends, and by friends that means enemies that haven’t shown themselves yet, is what Haryy normaly though. That like Parkinson bitch always followed him around like a sad little puppy. The day Harry was sorted into the Slytherin was the day his parents turned over in their graves.

Harry was supposed to turn out good, and wonderful, and a hero. Well, what everyone thought a hero should be anyway. He knew this, but he didn’t care. He went his whole life without friends before Hogwarts, not having any now didn’t bother him in the slightest. He was seventeen, good looking, and had already killed the Dark Lord, only to be seen as the new one. But Harry didn’t feel the need to have that people grovel before him, and the like. Power and money and fame he had, and didn’t need to be a Lord, he already was a King. Besides, the War of Halfblood and Pureblood ment nothing to him, he hated everyone no matter what their lineage was. He really loath that little mut Granger though. She is the only person with the gull to even look at him hatefully, and to speak to him with an acid tounge.

He felt nothing but pity for Draco Malfoy though. Draco’s parents died for nothing, because in the end, their little Pureblood was a as much as a pussy as the Gryffindors. Mostly more so. Draco it seemed had no idea how to be a Slytherin, and when the War was over, and Draco never had recieved the Dark Mark, he was shunned by the rest of the House. Harry thought back to their first day, when Draco was all puffy about being a Slytherin, and Harry couldn’t give a crap less. He just wanted to be sorted into a cool house, he almost laughed out loud. He remembers Ron Weasly, and almost befriending the boy, and wanting to be a Gryffindor. All until Draco offered his hand to him, then everything changed. He wanted to be in the house of power, not the house of courage. He knew his parents were in Gryffindor, but it never bothered him at all. HE wasn’t his parents, for fucks sake. After his fifth year, when he met Sirius, and told him as much, Sirius had him never spoke again. Last Harry heard he died in the war. Dumbledore always asked of Harry wanted his advice, and still does. Also during his fifth year is when Dumbledore told him everything, but reaveled nothing.

Harry was thinking all of this during breakfast. He didn’t eat it, just moved the food around a little, and people started to notice. He didn’t care. Lately he was always by himself, and deep in his own thoughts. He still never felt the need to talk about how he killed Voldermort. The only person that knew the truth was Dumbledore, not because Harry told him, but because the old man was there. No one knew Harry ended up killing Tom Riddle with his bare hands, nor did he ever want people to think that. He wanted people to think that he cursed that wizard to hell and back, but it wasn’t so. There was no point dueling Voldermort, the wands didn’t fight, same core. He was told that his fourth year. The best part of all of this, he, even thought he was in Voldermorts house and everything, that crazy fucker kept trying to kill him every year. Stupid Tri-Wizard thing. Not that it matters, as Harry won in the end. All by simply choking him to death. Harry assumed that Voldermort was so shocked he never got the chance to do anything against the attack.

However, Harry turned his mind to other matters, like the one he was presently in. Malfoy choose to sit by him, and stare at him, again. Not that HArry didn’t mind intruders or anything, in fact, he was getting used to it, but this was Malfoy, and him, Harry didn’t like. What Harry didn’t like is that Draco never choose a side for the war, he didn’t fight at all, and that pissed him off. At least if Draco had picked a side, the House would have understood the blond better.

“Look, Malfoy, piss off. Stop staring at me already. I know you are in love with me and everything, but really, I wouldn’t even care if you dropped dead right infront of me.”

The House table stared at the pair, waiting with bated breath for what Draco would say, well, the whole Hall was waiting really.

Draco stared at him for a few seconds, and then turned his head. “Fine.” With that, Draco got up, and walked to the Gryffindor table, and sat right between Ron and that Granger girl, and they had the nerve to both hug him. “Looks like I choose a side, eh Potter? Well, really, I should have been sitting here for a long time. I have been working for this side for years now.”

Dumbledore clapped. The other houses but Slytherin followed. Draco didn’t have that smug lok about him anymore. Not that Harry cared, no not at all.

Harry stood up then, and walked to the doors of the Great Hall. “Have it your way Draco. You always do.”

Everyone’s eyes followed Harry out of the Hall, and into the darkness. All execpt for Draco, he lowered his head. He didn’t want anyone to see that he was crying.

"And how about the Get The Hell Away From Me shuffle?"

pinkmoons — Mon, 16 May 2005 09:35:06 GMT

Wow. Wow. Wow.

I'm getting all slashy again. I think a aprt of it was "Him" got pimped, and it's sooooooooo unbeta. Tommorrow I will go through it, and fix all of it. Plus, I think Chpaters 1-3 will become juist one chapter, and 4-7 will become there own as well.

And I think I might change 8 up a bit. I can't remeber what I had in mind for it, as it was so long ago.

Plus, I wrote by hand the next part of Beautiful Ending. I shall tpye it up and put it here as well. This time it's Harry's POV. I hope I got it.Mand I missed slash.

I am surpirsed how long I have held onto this journal. I started it to archive me own stuff, so I guess I shoudl put it to good use.

Time to pimp krissielee fic, and hit the hay. Well, after reading some.

As I haven't posted a fic here in AGES

pinkmoons — Thu, 21 Oct 2004 23:12:20 GMT

Please, people, comment. kthnxbye.

Sometimes, life moves too fast for any of us to really know what is going on.

Holy crap. I just sounded some what deep. My, Draco Malfoy, a deep person? Pisshh, nuts to that! I only like being deep in some one's arse. Ok, no, sorry, that was rude of me.

Oh bloody pusy hell, I was nice to my own goddamn journal entry. This has got to fucking stop. I have my own honour to up hold. Just because I am gay doesn't mean I don't have any honour with my family.

Even thought father would kill me if he knew. Maybe I should tell him, that would be a fun evening. 'Um, Father, (munch on some potatoes), I'm a bit of a fag. Ok, not a bit. I am a fucking flaming fag, and ok, I'm a tart as well. Hot pink is the new black." Father would totally just kill me. Mum wouldn't even notice. That's just my life. Mum doesn't care what or whom I do, as long as I act like a Malfoy whilst doing it. Meaning, I am rude, tactless, and sound good. ever thing is immage as what she says.

Until that fucking boy came along and screwed me the fuck up. What the hell, more like, why the hell did he even feel the need tot alk to me that one day? Why did he say, hey Draco, can we talk? I just would have been happy, just thrilled if he said, let's fuck, no questions asked, and never speak to me again, kay thanks bye.

But alas, no. He said he wanted to get to know me better. There really isn't a lot to get to know. I'm evil, I have been abused most of my life, and I like boys.

Wow, that's a lot to act as if he cares about. But I told him, any he just said, alright, fine, but I want to know why you feel like you are evil, and why you were abused, and why you like boys.

That damned stupid word "why". It's gottin me in a crap load of trouble now.

Just one, little three letter word, as apoosed to a four letter word.

He said he loved me. And I asked why.

God I am very dumb. I just lost the best thing in my whoel life, because I wanted to knwo why. I'm vain, we all know this.. but it's wasn't to stroke my ego, it's because I really don't understand why anyone could love me.

And he just gave me the right answer back. The always stand by line when you are to awstruck for words.. "because I do."

How sickingly sweet is that? I mean really. He could have said because you are you, and shite like that, but because he does.

Bollocks.

He asked if I loved him as well. I said, well, maybe.

He said you either love me or you don't.

And I said, well, I guess so, because to me, you are perfect.

And he cried. I didn't know what to do after that, I just hugged him, and kissed him on his soft black hair.

I suppose, in the end, I'm not in trouble, but I feel like I am. I didn't know that both of us feel the same about each other. But he still won't hold my hand walking to the Great Hall. I am willing to risk everything for him, and he does nothing in return. I am so a secert to him, and maybe that get's him off, but not me. I want people to know that I love him.

Maybe.. I'll make a shirt. "I FUCKING LOVE HARRY POTTER"

Oh my god, that would be great.

- Draco Malfoy.

Harry found Draco's journal after the war in Hogwarts happened. It started about two days after that entry was writtin down. He never spoke to Hermione again, for what she did to his life. No one knew what really was going on with them, and when he saw Draco's face when Draco was falling killed Harry.

Harry knew then his soul had died, and could never be replaced. Harry sat there in the middle of of his lovers dorm room, crying, for hours. No one ever asked why he sat around for weeks moping around, snapping people's heads off with the mear glance near him.

ON Draco's birthday, to honour his soul mates memory, he wore a shirt to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Wearing some what tight jeans, and boots, and he had hir hair gelled to stick up.. he wore a plain white tee-shirt that was very form fitting.

It read- I FUCKING LOVE DRACO MALFOY

Chewwie FINALLY sent me it back!!!!

pinkmoons — Thu, 12 Feb 2004 18:15:49 GMT

Also, here is a note, she never beta-ed it. Great huh? ;) Ok, so I will go through and fix spelling, and stuff, maybe plot holes, but I am going to need a beta. I'll post that I need one at [Unknown LJ tag] in a bit. Screq it, I don;t feel like beta-ing right now. sorry.

Author: Quickquill or Pinkmoons or Gamblore
Title: “Perfect”
Cat.: Slash in my mind. So, it’s slightly off slash. Heh.
Rating: For some strong words and sexual things, I suppose R or PG-13. You tell me. Please don’t read if “cutting” upsets you.
Summary: This is for the “Kill Seamus” fic challenge that I started for the Lemon Tree member for the beloved boards, that has no, from what I have seen, spread into our wonderful Live Journal Community. Ok, onto plot. Think Harry being a used little boy at the age of 19 or 20. Draco’s the same age. Harry’s hurting and shows it. But what made it show up, al this pain? Never showing emotion, Harry does something rash. Draco helps out, however he can.
Comments: This story has taken a lot out of me. Not having a computer at home has not helped. I miss my slashies so much hand I needed help on some things, like grammar and plot, but I had no time to get online to find my peeps. I love slash, but I was starting to not, *gasps* need it to breathe. But, my brain is working again. *looks at Chewwie* I miss my groupies of this fandom so much! Comment on this! Tell me what you think, and be very honest, I can take it! But, be forwarded, I bite back, to any mean and rude people, i.e. Flamers out there! Also, comment and tell me, the slash Goddess (for people who don’t know me, as an oldbie in the group. I heart my title on fandom) that you love me. But please comment this comment whore!
Thank yous: To Chewwie, my darling, who is helping me with this by typing it! And for always being there for me, no matter the subject. You are a demi God, and, my slash sister! And to Luv, Dwyn, Amy, and SSM, my slash crew. And Natty, my real sister. I love all of you. And I hope I forgot no one. And I know I did..

Thanks, Quickquill

Draco was pissed at Harry. Many reasons to be mad; No, pissed, at one single person was, Draco thought admittedly, pretty fucking dumb. Now, sitting on the edge of their bed, he knew he should go back to their party, and publicly say he was, is, sorry, or whatever. But what would he say to Harry. He nearly said, “Potter,” which proved to at least to himself that he really was pissed off.

Well, within reason, he should be pissed. The still very natural blond, pouted even more, making himself look even more like a twelve-year-old boy. He decided he would think more about what happened.

Praying that he had something with vodka, olives and vermouth, very dry at that. Being a wizard, he could make himself one, but, he shrugged, no point. Being drunk would make him madder. He thought.

(Flashback)

Three hours earlier, Harry had been getting drinks for everyone. He was laughing and pinching Draco’s ass, keeping no one would notice, side glances, winks (Okay, Draco thought, back to why I was, am, oh whatever!)

Harry was brining Ron his drink, Draco was laughing that it was a cranberry vodka, say how ‘flaming’ that was, and topping it off with a very posh accent. Harry hid a laugh, and walked over to Draco, begging him to let up on Ron. Draco argued that he never even went down on him, waggled his eyebrows, and grinned. Even Cho laughed. Harry said Cho had changed, so, Draco had invited her to their ‘lurvly’ Halloween get together. Always a ‘get together’ because Harry swore that ‘party’ sounded tacky. That was his reason number one why Draco was pissed. Ex-whatever Cho was there. And from the look she kept giving Harry, she hadn’t changed, Draco could always spot a no when he saw one.

Rolling his eyes, he kept replaying the night in his head.

He hugged Harry, and kissed him behind the Golden Boy’s ear. Harry giggled, and ran his hand up Draco’s back, meaning later, Draco would get what he wanted, but not now.

All of a sudden, that stupid Irish shitehead had to say something, not just anything but the one the Draco never, ever, wanted to hear in his lifetime. Harry went board stiff, and turned around, willing himself not to scream, when he spoke.

“Excuse me, Seamus,” a voice that oddly reminded everyone in the room of Umbridge. “What did you just say to the whole room?” A sickly sweet smile had appeared, as if daring for Seamus to repeat himself.

“That you were the first boy I was ever with.” Seamus didn’t seem to notice that he was not suppose to say a damn thing.

“Draco, look,” now he was turning back around, but never noticed that Draco had moved over towards Seamus, want out, and with a look that might just kill. “Shite!” Harry ran toward the two, wand out himself, also pointed at Seamus.

“You can leave now, Seamus,” Draco spat out, becoming the old Slytherin that will never die.

“I very much so agree, Seamus. Seeing as you are a nasty rotten liar, and all now making up things, to sound cool. The first to fuck Harry Potter? You wish Finnegan.” Harry sounded a lot like Draco, but with a clearer of a voice.

Seamus laughed, got up, and pulled out his want. Ron reached for his, but Hermione, Cho, Pansy and the others all shook their heads. Ron just watched everything unfold.

“Look, potato boy, Harry has been with only one person, me.” He said very proudly. Harry nodded at that, and thought about what spell to use on Seamus.

“Yeah right. I can’t believe you don’t remember Harry. It was during the first week of our sixth year. You were drunk, and about to cut yourself, and I walked in you crying, said you are gay, kissed me, and I fucked you.”

“You see, I remember the drinking, the cutting,” he slightly moved his sleeves up to show the scars. “and me kissing you. But then you see, I remember you conjuring up a rope to tie me up with, and me screaming ‘this is not what I meant! Stop!’ and ‘no!’ a lot. I still wonder why no one came to see what was wrong, but you do know that charm… Anyway, you piece of shit, you can leave now. If you ever come near me again, I will kill you, or Draco can, it doesn’t matter. You and Cho for that matter. Bye.”

With that, Harry walked to the kitchen, and shit the door. Seamus tried to say something but Cho drag him out of the house. Draco looked around, at all their shocked guests, which included some ghosts for that scary ones.

“Um, talk amongst yourselves… I have to, um, well, yeah. Don’t leave yet, because this party means a lot to Harry and myself. First party in our home…” He ran to the kitchen, opened the door, and saw Harry on the floor, with a knife on his hand, using it to, of course, cut himself.

“Old habits never really die, you know,” Harry half sobbed, half laughed out, crying out more like.

“Harry, honey, now…” Draco’s voice shook, he sat down beside Harry, picking up his arm, and just staring at the cut. It was bleeding very much, Draco could tell it was deep. “Honey, it was long ago, just a few, okay, three years... Baby, it’s okay, let me heal it.”

Harry jerked his arm away, and shook his head, “Just hand me a tower and tell our guest to please leave, christ, I, just, god...” Harry started to cry again.

Draco walked slowly out of kitchen, but saw everyone had already left. “Smart people. Gonna kill Seamus.” It wasn’t a joke, nor a threat, it was a promise.”

“Harry, they left, look, let’s go run a bath and go to bed, and talk about this later...” Harry was gone, no note, but a little pool of blood was in the floor. Draco realized, Harry had left to do what Draco thought was his job. “Shit!” and apparated to Seamus’ house.

He landed in the den of the house. “Dammit, even better.” Seamus was living in Draco’s guesthouse. No one was home, and not in the mood to leave a note, he apparated back to his home, in their bedroom.

“I did go there, planning on killing him, instead, I did something of a memory blocker, and left. He is in a coma, like state in his kitchen. As we all Cho.

“Why here?”

“She told him to do that to me, I stayed friends with them so they wouldn’t spread lies. “

“I see, well, I’ll kill them later.”

“Okay.”

“So, let me understand why you never told me, let me knwo the truth. I still see myself as your first, you know.”

“But you aren’t.” It came out as a whine, a plead for it to be real, for Draco to beleive Harry that he didn;t want to tell Draco about it, still didn't want to talk about it.

“Bullshite.” Draco voice was briming with venom, but he kept his cool.

“You choose who you want to be the first person you want to be with, and you goddamn well know that.” Draco felt his blood boil.

Back in the present, Draco knew it was time to talk to Harry. He finally understood what went wrong, and, as always, he felt awful about it. He put on his dressing gown, and went to the living room, finding Harry on the couch, reading.

“Before you say anything Draco, don’t. I’ve been thinking, and I know you meant what you said, and trying to make me feel better, but not lying to me. I love you, and that’s what counts. I choose you.” He never lifted his head up.

“Nope, I shouldn’t had just held you, like I am going to now.” He sat down on the couch and wrapped his around Harry, who let himself be held.

“Well, let’s hope the Christmas one’s better,” Harry shrugged. “Seamus will be dead by then, yes.”

“Of course. This of it as an early gift.” Draco kissed Harry’s freshly cut arm. “Wanna make out a little?” Prom accent, Harry could never say no to.

“Of course.” He lifted his head, and kissed Draco softly on the lips. Draco melted.

“But in our own room, in out bed.”

And here, Draco thought Harry would never speak to him again.

“Let’s play some music, darling,” Harry coed as he and Draco walked hand and hand to the bedroom.

Several hours later, Harry and Draco were cuddling, Draco noticing how uneasy and restless Harry was getting, but was still a little shocked when Harry finally spoke.

“Why Draco... Christ a gun. Did you want it to look as real or unreal as possible as the ease maybe?”

“Well, they can’t say who killed them now, can they?” Plus it was time well spent.” Draco yawned, and ran his hand down Harry’s back. “Plus, you know, I got to fuck you twice in one night. Talk about playing the Hero.”

“I would say “fuck you” but, eh, to lazy to fight really.”

“Oh really, ready for another go, Harry boy?” Draco raised his left eyebrow, then, remembered Harry couldn’t see his sexy look, so he stopped what he deemed ‘the look’, and just hugged that skinny boy with a scar tighter.

“Remember when you would ‘make me pay’ for sending your father to Azkaban?” Harry was in the ‘good ‘ol days’ zone. Westerns, to many of them watched don a lonely night. Which, Harry thought to himself, might explain why Draco used a gun, instead of something else. “You didn’t get rid of the bodies, did you?”

“Back to what we were talking about, huh?” Draco said smugly, halfway hoping Harry would shut up about all of this but knowing he wouldn’t, “No, I didn’t.”

“Dammit, why not? People will know I or you or whatever killed them.” Harry started hyperventilating. “Please tell me you made it look like ‘cough’ like, ‘gasp’...”

“That he did it. Yup. Oh hunny breathe, you know I am not good at medical magic.”

“I’ll be fine, so,” coughing fit...

“Oh, Seamus was” a small chuckle from both Harry and Draco, but Draco went on, “living, squatting at Daddy Dearest’s guest house. Wow, what a father I have! Hiring lowlifes to spy on us and, at some point, kills us. Not even an original plan. I feel used.” Draco sounded offended.

Harry laughed.

“Why the laugh? I *do*!”

“Oh really?” Harry sounded light hearted, and dare he think it happy. He sat up and turned to look at Draco. “And you didn’t feel used when I turned that vase into a rather large...” Harry started giggling.

"Shut up!” Draco laughed and pushed Harry lightly, but Harry still fell off the bed.

"Ow.” Harry stood up, naked, with his hands on his hips. “Anyway, why did your father choose Seamus and Cho? Wait, I know. Pick two people that have hurt me enough to make me want to kill myself. Wow, you’re right. So unoriginal. I don’t feel used... but jesus All I did was put him in Azkaban. Talk about not being able to let go. However, if he had picked my aunt and uncle, I would clap. Well, if they weren’t dead. Meh...”

“All ends are tied up now... so.. let’s sleep darling,” Draco yawned, bored, and patted the bed, “Please. No more talking tonight.”

Harry crawled into bed, snuggled next to Draco, hugging him tightly, his head resting on the blonde’s chest. Harry breathed it all, head rising when Draco breathe in, and falling,... When Draco breathed out, Draco smiled softly, thanking who ever watches over him, that he was the one person he would do anything for, snoring lightly on his chest. He had to stop himself from crying those heartfelt ‘happy tears’, which he felt Harry’s long eyelashes flutter against his chest. Finally, he felt alive.

“I love you so much, Harry. Don’t leave me.” Draco started crying.

“Never planned on it doll, not once.”

More silent tears fell down from Draco’s pale cheeks.

“Thank you,” Harry whispered. “I love you more with ever breath you breathe.”

How cheese, Draco nearly said, instead, he closed his eyes, and started drifting off to the slumber only people in love knows off.

“Oh, don’t worry, you’re father shall be taken care of, as they say. You never have to worry about that again.” Harry kissed Draco’s chest, and finally closed his eyes, and fell into a nice light sleep.

chapter 4-7 of "him"

pinkmoons — Sat, 06 Dec 2003 00:55:17 GMT

Oh, this is spoilery for book five, just so ya's know.

Chapter Four

He heard harsh breathes. He felt cold air swimming around his ears, the top of his head.. the tip of his nose felt almost gone because of the chill in the room. He moved his arm and the bones cracked and popped. He knew he had been out for awhile.Everthing hurt. He went to touch his hair, his normal reaction after he woke up, and nearly howled in pain. Moving his arm wasn't the problem, the pops and snaps didn't bother him. It was that his hair hurt. Slowly, begrudgingly, he opened his eyes.

It was still dark in the hospital wing.

His first thought was that he wanted more warmth. His body was numb, and he wanted to make sure that is was still there. A slight panicky feeling made his stomach flip as he realized just why his body was numb. He wiped a tear off his cheek, and looked over to his left. His neck creaked, and the echo filled the room.

He shuddered.

He coudn't see anyone. Of course this could be because of the no light in the room issue, but he didn't feel like he was the only person here. He couldn't be. Two people came back last night. Or tonight for that matter.Or hell he though, maybe even last week..He did the next best thing to getting up and looking for the person.

He yelled for more blankets.

He hated that his voice sounded like a two year old's that was crying because the child wet the bed. But at least he heard foot steps. And praise God, they were close. He felt better knwoing he feelings of being watched were right.
The person didn't speak to him, but from the shadow that feel across his bed, he guessed the woman was a woman. He shook his head a little as he was wrapping more blankets around him. Of course it's a woman he though bitterly, Maddame I Don't Give a Fuck.

He turned so he could rest on his right side. He saw another figure in the bed three down from his. He felt his heart lift. But he saw no movement from the body, and sighed.

Harry caught a shimmer of pale silver hair before he he feel back alseep. But very lightly, he kept hearing muffle grunts, and sobs from varois people. The only reason he cared was because he hoped one would speak and he would know whats going on. He heard footsteps aproach him. The woman asked if he was hugry, or awake. The words were blurred. He just nodded.

More footsteps. All the talking in the room had stopped. He lifted his head. There was a tray with food on the bedside table. He sat up, all the eyes in the room fell on him. He smiled.

Ignoreing all the praising eyes, or dirty looks Harry went for the one thing on the tray he wanted. Coffee. No milk, one sugar. Raw suger.

Draco was near.

He poured in the little packet of sugar in his coffee, and stirred the black liquid, and picked up the cup to slowly sip it. It was the warmth he needed.

He graoned, and sat fully up. His bones creaked, and popped. His muscals were tight, they sanpped. He finally realized he must have been out for a long time. He finshed his cup of coffee, and the cup magicly refilled itself. Harry grinned.

"Welcome back. You should eat soemthing you know." That voice. The one one he wanted to hear.

"Not hungry" His stomach rumbled, but not loudly. He thank God for that.

"Right. So." Draco sounded happy.

"Why?"

"Why what? the coffee, the food, or the other thing." Chipper.

"You didn't have to."

"I know.. but you looked like you need coffee.."

"I ment."
"I know."

"So.."

"I don't hate you, Harry." He sounded panicy. Scared.

Harry blinked, and just went back to drinking his coffee
1.
Harry just sipped his coffee. Hoping Draco would go away, or sit down, or something other thna just staring at him. "The least you can do is sit down Draco, and stop staring at me."

"And yet, the other things I say to you just past in one ear, and out the other. Funny. And no. I will stand here and glare till you talk to me about that."

"You'll be standing for a long time then, dear."

Draco eyes lit up. He didn't mean them to, he wanted that 'I don't give a fuck' look to stay there, but he couldn't help it. "Ecuse me? Did you just call me-"

"Yes." Harry smiled behind his cup of coffee. He looked at Draco from under his eyelashes. "this is twice you have said that you don't hate me. And-"

"Twice you've sadi nothing."

"I though nothing ment that I don't. I don't go around telling people that I love them or hate them, or not care abotu them.." More thoughful sipping.

Draco sat down beside him, put his hands on hisknees, and swung his legs, and humed a bit. Harry giggled.

"Stop that."

"Why? I'm doing something sence you won't talk to me."

"I just woke up!"

"Liar, you have been up for hours. May I have your scone?"

"No."

"Why?"

"You called me a liar."
"But you just lied to me about being asleep, when you weren't. You waited to people left the wing, to get up. And you know it so, may I please have your scone?

"FINE! Have the fucking scone already."

"Thanks." Draco reached over Harry's lap towards the tay, and just as he touched the scone, he turned his head, smiled and winked, picked up the scone, and sat back down."

"That's a lot of work for one scone, you know." Harry was slitghyl breathes. This maybe my lungs are still all brusied, or yeah..

Draco picked all the raisons out of his scone. "I saved your life." He bit into his scone, "Needs butter." He looked on the tray, and frowned. Of course no butter for He that Almost Died Again, and Again..

Harry smircked. No reasonw hy but he did. He though about Godrics Hollow, and how nice it was to be alone all the time, and just being him. With out anybody there. that almost gave him a bit of a shock. He was so used to people noy being there, that he liked it. He hashed out he thoughts, but never speaking. He saw no point. If he did speak, who would listen? Him He frowned. he wouldn't care. He just wants to..

What does Draco want?

"What the fuck do you want, Draco?"

"Some more coffee wouldn't hurt.."

"I mean why. Like. You 'saved' me, and all.. but why"

"Because I don't hate you."

"Acting the hero?"

"Lets try, "Draco was getting upset, "That I care for you. Being your friend has some drawbacks, you know."

"Friends? When the fuck did this happen?"

"Quiet you. Because I figured we could try at this friends thing. I have thought about it, and then realized that I don't hate you, you twat."

"Nice mouth."

"I know." Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Um, look. Ok, friends, or whatever. But can I go back to my nothingness.. It is working for me."

"Oh yes. I can tell. Really. No one talks to you, and every one repsects, or hates you with a flaming passion. It equals a fire of a thousand suns. No one even wants to talk to you in any more, " He sipped his coffee, "I am making an effort. You know, trying to care what happens to you"

"And you are the only one. How cute." Harry so badly wanted to be alone. Longing for it, and it was showing., "Look, friends is great, really.."

"Why do you keep saying it like that?"

"Like what?"

"The way you keep saying friends"

"Oh, that."

"Yes, that."

"Beacuse." Harry nodded.

"Why now?"

"I care?"

"I'll settle."

"You shouldn't."

"But I always do. I am the one that had to go out there save you arse-"

Harry blinked. The freshness of what happened was way to close to the surface. He didn't want to think, care, or want to knwo how he got back. He felt as if getting back was enough. Being here, and now, that's what mattered, right? Being alive, and trying to care about anything. Although he fount his toast right innteresting. He could feel Draco's eyes on him. It burned, knowing that some one could see into his being, and break the nothingness.

Harry found out a long time ago not feeling was better than felling. At least you can't show what you can't feel. "Just stop," he put his hand on Draco's knee, to keep him there, "if yu make all these peopel leave, I'll talk to you. But if one persom is here, I won't. Fair?"

"Well, no."
"Well, then, go away-"

"But, " Draco took a deep breathe, "Every one! Get. The. Fuck. Out."

People stared, and some laughed. Draco got out his wand, all looked at it, and shuddered.

"Are we all ready to leave, " Harry will always hate this voice, that chipper one, "Good. Now bye. and thanks for coming. You're pity that was mistaken for thoughtfulness is useless now. Have fun!"

Shuffling feet, and mumers were heard, but no one said anything loud ebough for Draco to her, as he was still twirling his wand in his hand, and smiling. When all left, he sat back done.

"So Harry, tell me why you got to be all alone, and all that nice stuff that always gets you nearly killed, yet some people don't care."

"More coffee?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1.
Chapter Six

"Well, sure. As you seem to stuck on coffee.."

"People just always have the need to 'save' me. I can't even save myself. So, there really is no point."

"OH that is such bullshit. We a collect group of people feel as if we have to save you. Bullshit. We have to save nothing as you have a thing for death, and all. I doubt that Dumbledore would put you out there, by yourself.."

"Yes, by myself. The only person that doesn't hound me to be me or do anything is me. Nice, huh?" Harry sipped his coffee, "You know what though, I don't want to die, I just want some peace, that's all."

"And that is supposed to answer everything? Damn you and your broad answers for nothing. Whatever." Draco just crossed his arms, and pouted.

"You look awful when you pout."

"Then don't make me pout."
"Oh Jesus, I just wanted to be all, calm. I mean, I don't know what I mean."

"Wonderful. I mean Harry, that's just fucking great, not knowing what you are doing so you just piss off and leave all of us watching you and-"

"Watching me?"

"Um, yes. So I hate snakes."

"Wait, go back to the watching me part, and you are scared of snakes?" Harry chuckled.

"Yes, I am scared of snakes. Father said they are a part of my life, being in the Slytherin house, and all of that, I have to get used to the bastards, but I hate them. I can't look at one, I can't deal with it."

"Have you ever seen the Dark Mark?" Harry was somber, yet weakly calm.

Draco turned, if it was possibly, more pale. He looked like he was gonna puke, and faint all at once. And yet, there was something else, maybe fear. Harry was about to ask, when Draco shook his head, and looked out the window.

"So, um," Harry felt a little put off, Draco was ignoring him, from what he could tell, "You hate snakes."

"And?"

"And what, you barely went into it, so that's all I can gather."

"I'm in the Slytherin house where I have to have a big fuck all snake as the mascot. It pisses me off. Ok, so I have all the stuff for me to be a Slytherin, but maybe the mascot could be a like, a rat. Rats aren't bad, and they are cunning..."

"Wow. You really have thought about this, haven't you? would you like another scone, or maybe some bacon.."

"Um, a scone thanks. And so what. I do have to be near it all the time."

"And it's an it now? Maybe you should name it something, like Steve."

"Steve. Ok. Steve the Snake. I like that. Ok, there."

"Here's your scone." Harry was handing over the scone, that he grabbed for a little bit ago, but just remembered."

"No raisins. Please."
"Look."

"Aw, thanks." Draco smiled, and then picked at the scone, but not really eating it.

"So, tell me. What were you doing before I got there?"

"Um., nothing."

"Nothing means you wear pants, you know."

"I was wearing pants, well, kinda. Leave me alone."

"Fine. Um, wanna go for a walk?"

"No."

"Why?"

"My legs hurt."

"Or cause people will see you.."

"There is that...."

"Did you ever have a pet as a kid?"

"Of course I didn't. I hate pets, well, save Hedwig, but she isn't really a pet pre se.."

"So, the muggles are really that bad?"

"Sure."

"No, repressive memory."

"More like selective."

"Can I kiss you?"

"I mean, I try not to remember it because I don't want to but I know I need to and, sure." Harry smiled.

Draco blushed.

Chapter seven..

What’s this? The Great Draco Malfoy blushing? I should be jumping with glee from a mountain top screaming my own praises-”

And Draco kissed him. It was nothing more than a sweet little peck on the lips, but it was heaven. Both swore birds were singing for them. Harry though maybe Draco used a charm for that to really happen, but still. That one second could have been an age, and neither of them would have known. When Draco pulled back, Harry was still making those little kissing motions, and Draco laughed.

“Ok, that was a kiss my mother might have gave me, that was.” Harry was hurt, he pouted.

“Maybe later. So, um. Are we gonna talk about anything important, or just fluff and stuff?” Draco was looking at his nails, trying to act like nothing happened. But Harry could see the flush that swept across his cheeks, moving up to his forehead. Draco of course couldn’t tell that Harry was staring at him, but Draco looked up, “Because really, I don’t have all the time in the world for this..”

“Piss off. Really. What I want to know is why you followed me there. It seemed like you were stalking me or something,” Harry felt like he should slapped himself. He knew he should have handled this with way more tact, “Wait, I should have said that better--”

“No need. Wolves, not proper people, raised you. At least ones that matter,” Draco sighed, “But things change, you know.”

“Ok, A- they are muggles, not wolves, “ Harry was getting red in the face.

“Bullshit, they way they treated you, was to me, like wolves treat the weakest one. Leaving the child out there to survive on it’s own.”

“They did feed me, and gave me clothes.. and all that stuff.”

“Jesus, stop holding these people so high up on the ladder of your life. Grow the fuck up, and buy a clue. I have the money to give you for that...”

“Fuck off. They tried to raise something they didn’t understand. They never kicked me out, even when they found out Voldermort was after me, and all that fun stuff. They tried, I understand them more now, so back off.” Harry huffed.

“Dammit, listen, really.. try very hard at this now, because I am only going to say it once. They. Never. Loved. You. They never even tried to love you. Maybe your Aunt, but no one else. Until you came here, alright. You made all of two friends, and the teachers, and Dumbledore cared about you, and loved you. Hell, even I like you now. This is saying something, ok? Just grow the hell up.” Draco was mad, bordering on very pissed off. He was huffing.
“So, “ Harry was calm, and it seemed like he took everything in, and understood what Draco was saying, and was going to agree with him, laugh at him, or something, “Tell me about your mother.”

Draco sat there with his mouth open, and his hand forming a fist. “Why?” Shaky voice.

“Because, I don’t have one, so I want to know about one. My Aunt, to her own son, was a great mother, from what it seemed. Spoiled the kid rotten, but oh well. At least he was feed properly.” Draco senced the bitterness. Harry just glared at his now cold toast after he said that.

“Well, she did spoil me, and gave me everything I ever wanted. It was nice. I rarely see her anymore though. Father felt when I turned sixteen, I should be much more independant. Meaning he gave me money, well, mother did, because he was in Azkaban,” Bitterness, lots of that was flying around it seemed, “so mother said I have one week to move out, with what I have, and live my life. I did. It’s nice. No bedtimes is nice. But I wish I could have dragged a house elf with me. I hate doing the dishes.”

“Where do you live now?”

“Not important. The point is, she did what she was told. She wan’t a real mother, a ghost of one was more like it.”

“No, really. Maybe I can live with you or something.... What the hell does that face mean?”

“It means maybe. Well, most likely not. I can find you a place near mine, if you want.” Draco sounded uneasy, frightened.

“Sure, that would be fine. I just can’t go back to Privet Drive ever again. Shit I moved all my stuff out of there. I think Ron’s mum has it right now.. It gets passed about. Waiting for a home. Like me.”

“I live in London.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” Harry was daydreaming of moving into a nice little flat, and having a home, a real home of his own.

“It’s in muggle London...” Draco was still uneasy.

“Why? I figured you would never leave anywhere muggle.”

“Because. I can.”

“You fuck off.” Harry smiled, and was thinking of what kind of coffee maker he would put in his house.
“So why did he show up there that night, and why don’t you just take your parents old house.”

“He knew where I was, and no. I don’t want to live in the place my mum and dad died. That just seems really sick. I’de be so worried on what would happen to me, that I would never sleep, or eat, or anything. Plus, I don’t want to look around, and wonder around on what my life would have been like. How happy I could have been, and not be the Boy the Lived, and all that shit. I would wonder what my mum cooked for dinner, and what dad’s favourite team on anything was. I’de would most likely kill myself with in a month, just so I could see them again.” Harry sounded like he was going to cry. but he held back his tears, but let out a soft sob.

Very gingerly, Draco asked him, “Was that what you were going to do the night I found you there?”

Harry nodded.

“And that’s why you weren’t going to fight him back, isn’t it?”

Harry nodded.

“But he didn’t even open his mouth, and he was gone. Gone. I watched it. What did you say.”

Harry was openly sobbing. He was shaking his head, and mumbling, but Draco knew he needed to get it out. To say what happened, “You can talk about it, you know you can. All you have to do is try.”

Harry shaked his head. ”No, I’m sick of trying. All I did was think about him just leaving. I think I though, go the fuck away, or piss off, something like that. I was most likely holding my wand.. I don’t know. My head always burst into pain when he is near. And then it stopped, “ he was still crying, “and then I saw you, and then him. And he hit you with that spell, and then he came back in, and you tried to do another spell on him, but it knocked you out. And, and, and.. “ sobbing so hard he barely said it, “ I killed him. Our wands won’t fight against each other, and all of that, so I had to say it. “ He bent down, and grabbed a part of his bed sheet, and wiped away his tear. He looked at Draco with his red rimmed eyes, and his nose was dripping. “Oh yeah, “ he laughed, “I am such a hero, aren’t I?”

Draco was soaking all of this in, nodding along, when Harry saw one small tear rolling down his cheek. “So, why were you passed out when I found you?”

“Different reason.”

“Which was..”
“I tried to kill myself. In the simplest way possible. I turned my wand on me, and mumbled the words.”

“That should have killed you.”

“You should know this by now.. I didn’t really mean it. I ment it when I said it to him, but on myself. I guess not. I’m still alive.” He sounded glum, like he failed, “So I went into a coma instead.”

“Harry Potter, “ Draco stood up, “ you are the dumbest person alive. You killed the bad guy, no matter how you did it, you did. That equals hero. Get over this shit. It’s over now. Sure, people are always going to talk about how you killed him, and what happened to you, and all that shit. This is sad. You will always be the boy who lived. Deal with it already.”

“Can’t I just be, “ He looked up at Draco again, with fresh tears in his eyes, “ the boy. No ’who lived” things. But just a boy.”

“Nope.”

Harry burst out into more sobs, “Why?”

“Because the fates saw it so. It’s not gonna change, you can’t change time. You just deal with what is there. That’s all anyone can do. Sure, you have more to deal with than other, but things that suck, just the same.”

“Don’t you over simplefy my life! You haven’t lived it! You think you know, but by god. If I could change it, I would. I rather have no friends, no family, and just be a boy that no one gave a fuck about, ok. You just don’t get it. I don’t care how bad you were treated, or how good you were treated, you have a mother and father. I. Don’t. I have nothing. I have books made about me, so that every body knew what happened to my family, but not me. I was never told anything. I was just wondering around, being a boy. Till Hagrid came along, and explained it all to me. I have spent so many night just dreaming that none of this ever happened. That Voldermort had picked Neville, and I had a mum, that would hold me, and love me. You know, NONE of my family has ever even hugged me?! They see me just about the same as most people do, in this world or not. A freak. Yes, a freak. I am either a boy with problems, or a wizard that was marked sence he was a baby. A baby.” Looking at his feet, Harry breathed out slowly. He didn’t want to talk anymore. He wanted to lay down, go to sleep, and never wake up.

“Well, yeah.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yup, you were marked. But that’s over and done with now. You don’t have the wizarding world on your shoulders anymore. Now, and this sucks to, it’s just your life, and what you make of it. Unless, you go back to Dumbledore, and find out what your life is going to be after all of this. Personally, that would be the pussy way out.”

Harry shrugged, and went to lay down on his bed. Draco grabbed his arm, and turned Harry to face him.

“As cheesy and dumb as this may sound, I am here for you.” And Draco hugged him.

Harry sat stifly, and then fell into Draco’s arms. Cursing himself for how clique` this all was, he felt warm. And nice, and almost wonderful. He smiled, and held Draco a little closer.

Draco kissed the top of Harry’s head, and some how moved both of them into that lovely spoon position, and they held each other, while they fell asleep.

There ya go! May the next chapters be writtin soon.. ok, I am now threating myself. Sad, no?

first three chapters of "him"

pinkmoons — Sat, 06 Dec 2003 00:51:24 GMT

Ok, I thought before I go on with this little story.. I would put up all chapters, unbeta, for people's veiwing pleasure. Oh, this is also most liekly going to be cross posted to The Lemon Tree.

"him" chapter one

I have no clue what the rating should be.. Here ya go.
Chapter One

"I never hated you," then he was gone.

Harry played that scene in his head over and over again. It had been six mind-numbing years since those aw-inspiring words were said to him. The voice still embedded into his memory. He would never forget it. Six fucking years of replaying this scene, and every time his reaction changes. Sometimes, he would simply kiss the person that spoke those words. But most of the time, he would just say, ‘I knew it,’ then kiss the speaker. But he did neither. He just stood there, staring at the person till he walked away. Harry knew he should have followed him, but he couldn't make his legs move.

He can still remember the silver hair fade to grey, then black. He knew he was weeping, thinking of him again. Him. The only person he could think about was the only person he couldn’t admit to himself that he loved.

Draco.

He only watched him from afar, and never went to the bookshop or to the coffee house after the blond. Both still lived in the London area, but it didn't matter. Harry always sought him out. Buying the same books, drinking the same coffees or teas. It didn't matter. It was his life.

Draco.

Not just a simple obsession, but his life. Everyday he would get a little closer to talking to Draco. But Draco either acted like he never saw Harry, or he really didn't.

‘Well good for him. At least he can forget about me,’ Harry thought, as he made himself to stop thinking of that day. Instead, he busied himself by drinking coffee, and watch Draco sitting by himself and reading a book.

Harry closed his eyes and slowly sipped his coffee. The smell was in itself a reminder of Draco. Perfect coffee. Strong, no cream, no milk, one sugar. Raw sugar. When Harry looked up, he nearly dropped his cup. His life was sitting beside him.

Draco eyes bore into Harry's like a threatening storm. As grey as they could be, before they turned black.

"Hello Harry," Draco was still looking at him as he sipped his coffee.

Harry just sputtered.

"You could have, in these long six years, talk to me at least. Or waved or something. Instead, you just followed. Why?" Draco's voice never wavered, and was very calm.
Harry finally found his voice. His, however, was thick and panicky. "I never knew what to say," Harry said. He pointedly looked the other away and sipped his coffee.

"Well," Draco started, his voice had turned to something like pleasant and nice, "how about we talk about this book we both just so happen to have on us, shall we?" Draco smiled. "'East of Edan' is an American classic, meaning it's always boring for the first sixty pages..."

"I never hated you either." Harry just blurted it out. Amazed at himself and looked at Draco calm face, he felt relieved at last.

"I know," Draco grabbed for Harry's hand, "but lets forgot that... painful that was... not following me."

"I had just killed Vold-"

Harry had to stop, because Draco laid a small sweet kiss on Harry's lips.

"Oh, we like the same coffee too?" Draco smiled, and raised an eyebrow.

All Harry could do was nod.

"Well, figured you would, following me and.." Draco said plainly. He looked sideways at harry, trying to make him say just why Harry had followed him for so long. "Ok Potter," Malfoy had this little boy voice, "Story time!" He clapped his hands together, "How about you just spit it out and tell me what all happened, then we can either never talk again, or go to my house.. Wow, " Draco said stunned. "I really suck at making choices. Either way, just get on with it."

Harry looked at him for a second, breathed out a hard, ragged breath as if he was trying his best to remember all that happened, and started his story.

"As I was saying, before you so rudly interrupted me," Draco looked offended, but Harry smiled, "I had just killed Voldermort. I filled my life's desinty, and then, you show up out of nowhere, and said you never hated me. I didn't understand it," Harry sipped his now getting cold coffee, "For years you made my life hell. I can't stress that enough. You even had the nerve to make fun of my godfather a few months after he died. I. Hated. You. Plus, I got your dad in Azkaban, so that made me happy.."

"Don't you dare start talking about my father, Harry." Draco looked ready to kill.

"Yet you still defend that man. Huh. Anyway, after you threated to kill me, I knew you didn't mean it, " Harry laughed darkly, all that worried feely crap he felt earlier was just draining out of his body. "Instead, you just made sure I wanted to kill myself every day of my sixth year, and most of my seventh. Thank God Dumbledore removed he right before Voldermort desided waiting in the shadows wasn't his style. I knew you would kill me then."

"Harry, " Draco said lazily, "My coffee is getting cold, could you please hurry. I'm getting hungry." Draco pouted. Harry didn't notice.

"So I was sent back to Godric's Hollow. That fucker found me. Found. Me. I was completely alone, and he showed up out of no where. He looked at me, and laughed. He pointed his wand at me, but before he could even breathe out the begaining of that curse, I killed him," Harry paused, "Why do you look so shocked."

"So Dumbledore did teach you wandless magic? Ok, sorry, go on." Draco waved his hand to him, as if saying he could now, giving him premission.

"Thanks," Harry said coolly, "Anyway, no, he didn't, I already knew it. I went outside, in a daze, hoping to God some one, anyone, would show up. Least of all, you. That's why I looked so, um.. murderous when I saw you. I didn't follow you, because I didn't know what to say. Simple enough?"

"No, I wanted a song, with an interputed dance of magic at the end."

"Very funny."

"Thanks. My coffee is cold.." Draco acted as if Harry wasn't there. He felt like an idoit for ever coming over to sit by him.

"Want to go for dinner?"

"Do you love me?

Harry again, sat there shocked, mouth open, and his right hand that was almost at the cup, froze. "Excuse me?"

"Do you love me?" Draco asked this as if him and Harry had been dating for awhile, and as if they had a flat, with a cat. Named Fluffy.

"Yes." Harry knew he did, had to.

"Why?"

"Because, I do." Harry smiled, "Do you love me?"

"Do you need to ask me?"

"Did you?"

"I have left you follow me for six years with out ever calling the muggle police, or have the blokes at St. Mungo's chase you down with butterfly nets."

"I like the ones that have the yellow wings myself." Harry said loftly.

"Yet you still ask if I love you. You are pathic. You follow me, where ever I go. It doesn't matter if it's hailing outside, and you fucking follow me. You drink the same coffee as me, read the same books, you even changed the way you dress, thank god, and you ask me if I love you. Dammit Harry."
"I take that as a yes." Harry grinned.

"Where are we going for dinner? Some place I like?" Draco looked angry, yet his voice was still oddly calm.

"I was thinking my place, but whatever.. Just come on." Harry was standing up, and putting on his coat.

"Fine, but I swear, if it's take away crap from anywhere, I will kill you." Draco stood up, and walked to the other side of the table to help Harry get his left arm in the coat. It seemed to be a strugle for the chap.

"Promises, promises.." Harry muttered.

"I hate you." Draco then took the shocked boy's hand, and walked out of the shop.

Chapter Two.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" Harry was flabbergasted. He had just said he loved someone. In fact this person said that he loves him.. and now..

"That I hate you." That damned oddly chipper voice was back. It made Harry's skin crawl.

"But.. but.. You," He was trying to think of what to say. Would be easier if he wasn't running like a mad man while clutching onto my arm..

"I KNOW! Now, come on, I'm hungry dammit. And you said your place, and it is freezing out here.."

Great, thought Harry, Not as good of a stalker as I though. Well, next time. He mentaly slpped himself. There would be no new time. Not anymore.

So they ran in quiet, giving both men the chance to think. Draco was thinking he wanted chicken, something light for dinner. And Harry was thinking about where he could hide Malfoy's body. Saying he hated me..bastard.

Then it hit Harry. Stupid fucking games. As always. He pulled his hand out of Draco's, and stopped, in the middle of the street, just glaring at the blond.

"What? Come one! It's cold." Draco was whining, but smiling. He didn't have a clue why Harry was so upset. And franbkly, he didn't really care.

"Why did you say it?" Harry was talking though his teeth. He didn't want to shout, so he did what he knew how to do. Glare and talk softly.

"I was joking Harry. You believed me? Well, maybe you should get hit by the car that is heading straight for you, then." Draco glared, and walked away, back towards his flat.
Harry didn't even notcie the car honking. It barely missed him. He walked up to Draco, and turned him around, "I don't like games, you know."

"Then what's the fun?" Draco lifted his eyebrows.

Despite himself, Harry grinned. He grabbed for Draco's wrist, and walked, slowly to his flat

They walked for a bit, maybe all of three minutes, then Harry spoke, "What do you want to eat? I was thinking chicken my-- What now?"

Draco was staring at Harry with his mouth wide open, and his eyes huge, "I was just thinking we should have chicken.," then he regained his composure, "I was thinking chicken with pasta. A cream sauce. Heavy, yet not really."

"With mushrooms and peas and some spinach wilted.. then some small little tomatos." Harry smiled. He didn't know Draco liked that. "I don't think I have the right kind of,"

"No peas. I hate them." Draco smiled, "I have something that would work. Lets go by my flat first, ok?"

"Right"

They walked again, not talking. Both were smiling. It was dusk outside, and the way it looked outside, it would diffently snow tonight That made Harry smile even more, he would finally have a reason to use this nice fireplace on his flat.. In his mind he was going over a checklist to see if he has coffee or hot cocco at his house. Hopeing that he marshmellow for the cocco, and cream.. Wait, he thought because I'm not a wizard or anything.. He sniggered at himself. Draco looked at him, in an 'what are you laughing at and not telling me about' sort of way. But he looked away. Harry seemed to into himself to care.

The reached the stairs leading up to Draco's first floor flat. Harry didn't really seem to notice where he was, and tripped over the first stair.

"Seems like some one forgot how to walk, again." Draco smirked. It was to much like hi sold, cruel voice. Harry's eyes went wide, but he blinked, and Draco was smiling again. "Come on you lug. It's not that hard.."

"Quiet you," was all Harry could think of to say. He rubbed his elbow, which he bumped, and followed a laughing Draco up the stairs, to his front door. Draco just took out his wand, and muttered the unlocking spell, opened the door, and stepped inside, motioning for Harry to follow him.

"You know Draco, " Harry had stepped inside, and Draco shut the door after him, removing his coat, but giving Harry a look that said 'don't you dare, we aren't staying here'.. "Normal people have these things called keys."

"And normal people ride broomsticks and turn frogs into jackolopes. I think the word you were searching for was Muggle."
"No, I ment normal. I use keys." He jaggled them in his pocket, to proove that he does, in fact, use keys.

"Of course you would." Draco was in his kitchen. Harry hadn't even heard him walk away, "You were raised by those things."

"True, but I still like the idea of keys."

Draco walked out of the kitchen, looking rather flustred, "Sence when has there been an idea of keys? Only you would think of that. And maybe Granger." He smicked. "Are you coming to the kitchen? Maybe you should at least look at the bottle I choose before we leave."

"No," Harry said flatly. "I would rather use the bathroom though."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Down the hall, to the left. Third door I think.."

"What does that mean? You think.."

"It changes." He saw Harry's face. "Oh please. Like I wouldn't put charms on my home. You twat. Just hurry then."

Harry rolled his eyes, and walked down the hall. He was happy to see that the third door on the left was the bathroom. He did his business, and was washing his hands when he saw it.

What the fuck?

He picked one of them up, and walked out of the bathroom. His hand firmly clutched to it, he went to the kitchen and looked at Draco, horified.

"Pink condoms?" He knew he still looked shocked, but he was trying to hide it with an air of forced calm.

"Of course." Draco said, with a small smile on his face, "I could never get fucked by another colour."

Draco picked up the bottle of wine, set it back down on the counter, and looked right at Harry, "And I'll thank you, " He reached for Harry's hand, opened took the condom, and put it in his pocket, "Not to go through my things. Now come on!"

Draco again took Harry hand, this time trying to cradle a rather large bottle of wine in the crook of his free arm, and made for the door.

`````````

Chapter 3

They walked up the stairs. Well, more like walked briskly. Harry's flat was just above Draco's. Of course Draco didn't know this, but he soon figured it out.

"You know Potter. I have to say, great stalking style. Ten for merit." Draco smirked.

Harry blushed, and just kept walking up the stairs. They got to the second floor landing, and stopped. He got out his keys, and opened the door.

"See, normal people, Draco.. use keys." He jangled them again. And bowed Draco inside.

Draco nearly dropped his jaw. He thought he would be seeing either one of two things. His flat, mirrored, or something allmessy and nasty that he would have to clean. But not this. Never in his life this. Leather, leather ever where. All Draco wanted to do was get naked, and feel his arse stick to the couch. Maybe later, He though to himself. "Potter. Jesus, you do have taste. Leather, modren steel for the kitchen.." He was walking around, breathing it all in. The smell of leather.

He would always think of Harry when he smelled leather now.

"Um, thanks. Lets go start dinner. Or you can sit down, and watch the tellie as I cook. I don't mind. Just give me the bottle-"

"I want to help." He saw Harry looked shocked, and laughed. " No, really. Plus I want to know who made that fridge.. I want one now."

"Want want want.." was what Harry mumbled under his breath as the walked into the kitchen.

With flicks of wands, dinner was cooking, and the bottle of wine was already open, and the two were talking about old times, friends.. and then of course, them. Harry was nervous and Draco could tell he really didn't want to talk about it, but he pushed.

"It was amazing that you even lived Harry!" Draco sipped his wine, and stirred the sauce, "When I got there.." He grimaced. He rethinked his plan for Harry to talk. He didn't want to remeber that.

"Thanks for being there? Is that what you want me to say? Because you didn't help, you were just there. You didn't, have, to do what" Tears. Draco saw that semi wet look in Harry's eyes. No, no tears. Draco switched the subject. And fast.

"So when did the Famous Harry Potter learn to cook?" He smiled, and watched as Harry wiped his eyes in his arm.

"The muggles made me cook." There was no hidden pain like Draco thought there would be. Just a plain fact as if Harry was saying how many cat claws to a potoin, "So I learned. Fairly simple, no?"

Harry didn't drink. Draco notcied this. He breifly wondered why. Then went back to stirring the now done sauce, "Dinner is ready."

Harry got up and plated the food. He did one of his side looks at Draco, who was drooling. He brought the food to the table, sat down, and nethier one spoke. they just ate, and looked at each other hoping the other wasn't looking. All of ten minutes later, dinner was done, and the dishes were cleaning themselves.

"Sooo.." Draco sad lazily, "What now?"

"Um, nothing? This is as far as I planned. Lets talk I guess."

"Well. Um. You work?"

"Do you?"

"Dammit. stop it. Already you are trying you best not to talk about you. Besides, the answering a question with a question is so last year's stalker." He grinned.

"Stop calling me a stalker." He looked hard. Closed.

"Well, that is what you were."

"Were, not am."

"I had to talk to you first."

"I was gonna at some point."

"See?"

"Do we have to talk about this? Because I though we had."

"Not in depth."

"Fuck depth. You know why I did it. Stalk you. I told you. Matter is closed." He set his shoulders. Draco knew to just stop trying to get him to open up.

"So.. what music do you like?" Draco pushed him into somethign else. Harry's face lightened. "If you say pop I swear.."

"Whatever really. I really like The Beatles, Radio Head, Coldplay.."

"Hrm.. " Draco smiled, "Green eyes, the spotlight.. shines-"

"Oh stop it!" Harry laughed. Draco's heart melted. Harry's laugh was the only thing that did that. And leather.

````````

"Draco Malfoy! Wake up! Come on. You can do!" Madame whatever her name is. He knew that voice. He was back. He got back.

"Harry.." He opened his eyes. He knew it. He was there. He's head was swimming. He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe. Why can't I fucking breathe? He moved around. He wantedto see him. He had to. He stood up. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"No, don't Draco. It's too soon." Dumbledore's voice was a hard, choked sound. It made Draco shudder.

"Get off. I have to.." He tried to stand up, but fell. " I was out there! I, I..." He broke down. "Not.. fair.. "

"Thank you." Somber. No. No no no. Dumbledore never sounds somber unless, "For bringing him back, and for doing what you-"

Draco passed out.

Long time, no post.

pinkmoons — Tue, 02 Dec 2003 11:28:21 GMT

As I just got a computer back, I will be able to post in here again. Speaking of... I have been working on a new fic, and I have no idea where it is going, or anything with it.. just like any of my other chapter fics. At some point, I will finish 'him', but I need to work out some of the plot first. Not like I have people begging me to finish it or anything.. *laughs*

I think later today, I will post all of what I have so far of him, in one post, that way Chewwie can put it under memories, or whatever.

Toodles.

chapter 8

pinkmoons — Tue, 16 Sep 2003 10:36:38 GMT

Also, this is just a cookie. I don't have the time to post ALL of the chapter. I will be posting bits and peices through out the next months.. Hopefully I can wrap this up in 10 chapters of less..

“I hate God. It’s so simple, if there was truelly a God, he wouldn’t do this,” soft sobs, “to people, “ now choking back tears, “to me.”

The crumbling of a cookie. That’s the way Draco pictured it, well, saw it. The cookie, of course, was Harry’s soul. Draco and Harry were just laying there, in bed, open to anyone who thought to walk in the hospital wing. Both doubted each others truthfullness about the whole, ‘I Don’t care’ thing, but the played the part just the same.

“You know,” Draco said, moving Harry closer to him, whispering into the raven haried boy’s ear, “it could be worse.. You could have pimples, or, um, be additced to crack..” Harry did one of those things where the sound was between laughter, and tears

“What makes you think I don’t do drugs?”

“You would have told me. Wanna fag? I’m dying here..”

“God dammit Draco, quit knowing me so well.” Harry smiled, hoping it would hide some, if not all of his bitterness. “Yeah, sure, let’s smoke.”

Draco was unsettled by the ease of Harry’s voice, “Plus, I don’t really see weed as a drug, prese. I see it, like how I see butterbeer.”

“Bubbly and sickingly sweet?”

“Close.. but no. The happy feeling after the narsty sweet.” Draco sat up, “Well, come on, up you get.”

Harry whined, but propped himself up onto his elbows.

“I wish we could have music in here...”

~~~~

Draco woke up, again. This time he thankfully knew where he was, and whom he was with. “Stupid fucking dreams.” He rolled out of bed, to make himself some coffee. He heard a soft, faint whimper, but paid no attention to it.

“Mmm, please Draco.. come back to bed.” Harry coed. Fucking coed.

“You. Are. Not. Real.” And Draco walked away.

“You know I am real..” Harry sat up, “you were dreaming about it again, weren’t you? You said they stopped.” His voice was getting louder, “ You promised me they stopped.”

“Fuck off Harry. Look, I just want some fucking coffee. Not some ‘chat’ about dreams I am having, BUT, “ Before Harry interupted him again, “Yes, I am having the dreams again.”

“I don’t want it to be like last time, Draco. You nearly killed me last time. Please, “ a little sob, “Promise me..”

a peice.. not a fic

pinkmoons — Sat, 06 Sep 2003 01:51:00 GMT

(This is mostly off the top of my head, so all spelling mistakes and the like are well, just there cause I am an awful typer)

I was five when I was first told somethign was wrong with me. I was told by my mother, and doctor that I had ADHD. I had no idea what it ment, and no one would tell me, so I just shrugged, and started daydreaming again, as five year olds do. I rememeber picking up the phrases of "one two to three times a a day", but that was about it. the next morning, I woke up, and had a pilled shoved down my throat. It was like that, for nearly 12 years. Soon after ward, of having my first pill, mom told me what I needed it for. She explained it to me as any mother would, "I have to learn how to behave in class, and stop moving around."

I was a trouble maker. I would get into the teahcers things, get up every two minutes to shrapen my penicil, and it was soon noticed nothing ever worked. Not spankings, not being grouneded, any of the normal stuff. Taking my toys away was never really an option, because I would start drawing on my sisters, or on the wall, or seeng of barbies hair just might grow back this time. So yeah, I can see how a mother would be frustrated by this, and having two others kis that were just as rowdy as me.

Taking a pill at lunch always upset me. It would dut into my fun time, but I noticed that I was more behaved in calss, and all the stuff the doctor saidf would happen. I think maybe even at the ageof 5, I was dependant on haing a drugs, a magic pill if you will, to help me live my life.

As I got older, the doses were bigger, and my need for them grew just as large. I felt as if I needed these little ritalin to study, or be normal. My behavoir got worse though. We moved from where I had lived most of my childhood years, to a place I only visted once, with people I didn't know. Mom and dad split up when I was nine. Mother started taking us to a threapist, to talk abotu our feelings, I remember saying somehting about hating being herem which, still holds true to this day. She upped my dosage as well.

In sixth grade is when my rebel phase kicked in. Oh, no details on that, but it was a dosey of a phase. One of my favorites. Anyway, this was also the time I started realizing that even if I didn't take a pill three times a day, I would still be the same person. Iw ould just throw them away, and go about my day as normally as possibly.

I started seeing a threapist in my 9th grade year. She told me I was depressed, and I said to her, "You think so, because I could have told you that when I first walked in here, and saved both of us an hour of our lives." She put my on prozac.

I hated being on it. I felt like a complatey subdead person that was just a mirror immage of myself. I began selling my ritalin, or anything else they were giving me, but I was still taking the prozac. I had been told almost my whole I needed something to make me a real person, so why stop it all.

It was my older sister telling me that I don't need a fucking pill shoved down my throat to be human. That it all really self control, and how could I could I be control of myself, if I don't know me. Made sence. It pissed my mother off, but then, she never took her meds unless they would kowck her out, so why should I take mine? She still doesn't understand that. Sure, I have awful mood swings, and a need to hurt myself or other often, but where is the fun in life if one doesn't feel things?

The point to this is, why do doctors feel as if a pill will cure everything? Why is it that maybe, I can be just fine with out having shoved into my stomach, shot into my arm, or telling some person I don't know all my dirty little secerts? To me, it's almost Nazi like, wanting everyone to be happy, and perfect, with little grins on their faces as they go to their dead in desk job that barely pays the rent on there four bedroom condo.

Why can't we all just funcution in our own disfuctionness, and not bother paying some one to tell us what is wrong in our heads.

I think deep down, we all want sooemthign wrong with us so we can brag at parties and say what my threapist has me taking this week. It's cool to be mentaly ill, but we look down on the ones that really have it. We are so quick to questions what's wrong, and awful abotu us, instead of what's good and pure. I'm quick to judge myself as well, I'm just as guilty on the self indused hate trips that go no where.

I say, lets all stop going to the doctors, and see where this might take us as a nation. I wonder if kids weren't told how wrong they might be in the head, stops school shootings, and gangs.

I however do think there are people that truelly need help, but they don't have to be on a pill for them to be "right" again. If you feel as if you might hurt some one, or yourself, hey, go for it.. But.. if you are just mad about life in general, and don't think about those things.. then maybe, go for a walk.

Cause that helps some times as well.

pinkmoons — Mon, 01 Sep 2003 05:01:34 GMT

I changed my icons, so they would match the moods of my fics. :)

I also found out that my name here is a type of x. (pills) Go me.

Am working on chapter 8. And I have a new idea in the mix as well. I wanted to say, my fics and short stories of all kinda are going to be here. Like, I had an idea for a Velvet Goldmine story, and varois other things.

Natty natty bo batty please do somethign with my layout.. I don't know what I want.... Al least change my comment thingy seeing as I don't knwo how anymore.

chapter seven of him

pinkmoons — Thu, 28 Aug 2003 00:47:24 GMT

Please, PLEASE leaveme a comment. I really need them to get me motivated to write more..

"What’s this? The Great Draco Malfoy blushing? I should be jumping with glee from a mountain top screaming my own praises-”

And Draco kissed him. It was nothing more than a sweet little peck on the lips, but it was heaven. Both swore birds were singing for them. Harry though maybe Draco used a charm for that to really happen, but still. That one second could have been an age, and neither of them would have known. When Draco pulled back, Harry was still making those little kissing motions, and Draco laughed.

“Ok, that was a kiss my mother might have gave me, that was.” Harry was hurt, he pouted.

“Maybe later. So, um. Are we gonna talk about anything important, or just fluff and stuff?” Draco was looking at his nails, trying to act like nothing happened. But Harry could see the flush that swept across his cheeks, moving up to his forehead. Draco of course couldn’t tell that Harry was staring at him, but Draco looked up, “Because really, I don’t have all the time in the world for this..”

“Piss off. Really. What I want to know is why you followed me there. It seemed like you were stalking me or something,” Harry felt like he should slapped himself. He knew he should have handled this with way more tact, “Wait, I should have said that better--”

“No need. Wolves, not proper people, raised you. At least ones that matter,” Draco sighed, “But things change, you know.”

“Ok, A- they are muggles, not wolves, “ Harry was getting red in the face.

“Bullshit, they way they treated you, was to me, like wolves treat the weakest one. Leaving the child out there to survive on it’s own.”

“They did feed me, and gave me clothes.. and all that stuff.”

“Jesus, stop holding these people so high up on the ladder of your life. Grow the fuck up, and buy a clue. I have the money to give you for that...”

“Fuck off. They tried to raise something they didn’t understand. They never kicked me out, even when they found out Voldermort was after me, and all that fun stuff. They tried, I understand them more now, so back off.” Harry huffed.

“Dammit, listen, really.. try very hard at this now, because I am only going to say it once. They. Never. Loved. You. They never even tried to love you. Maybe your Aunt, but no one else. Until you came here, alright. You made all of two friends, and the teachers, and Dumbledore cared about you, and loved you. Hell, even I like you now. This is saying something, ok? Just grow the hell up.” Draco was mad, bordering on very pissed off. He was huffing.

“So, “ Harry was calm, and it seemed like he took everything in, and understood what Draco was saying, and was going to agree with him, laugh at him, or something, “Tell me about your mother.”

Draco sat there with his mouth open, and his hand forming a fist. “Why?” Shaky voice.

“Because, I don’t have one, so I want to know about one. My Aunt, to her own son, was a great mother, from what it seemed. Spoiled the kid rotten, but oh well. At least he was feed properly.” Draco senced the bitterness. Harry just glared at his now cold toast after he said that.

“Well, she did spoil me, and gave me everything I ever wanted. It was nice. I rarely see her anymore though. Father felt when I turned sixteen, I should be much more independant. Meaning he gave me money, well, mother did, because he was in Azkaban,” Bitterness, lots of that was flying around it seemed, “so mother said I have one week to move out, with what I have, and live my life. I did. It’s nice. No bedtimes is nice. But I wish I could have dragged a house elf with me. I hate doing the dishes.”

“Where do you live now?”

“Not important. The point is, she did what she was told. She wan’t a real mother, a ghost of one was more like it.”

“No, really. Maybe I can live with you or something.... What the hell does that face mean?”

“It means maybe. Well, most likely not. I can find you a place near mine, if you want.” Draco sounded uneasy, frightened.

“Sure, that would be fine. I just can’t go back to Privet Drive ever again. Shit I moved all my stuff out of there. I think Ron’s mum has it right now.. It gets passed about. Waiting for a home. Like me.”

“I live in London.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” Harry was daydreaming of moving into a nice little flat, and having a home, a real home of his own.

“It’s in muggle London...” Draco was still uneasy.

“Why? I figured you would never leave anywhere muggle.”

“Because. I can.”

“You fuck off.” Harry smiled, and was thinking of what kind of coffee maker he would put in his house.

“So why did he show up there that night, and why don’t you just take your parents old house.”

“He knew where I was, and no. I don’t want to live in the place my mum and dad died. That just seems really sick. I’de be so worried on what would happen to me, that I would never sleep, or eat, or anything. Plus, I don’t want to look around, and wonder around on what my life would have been like. How happy I could have been, and not be the Boy the Lived, and all that shit. I would wonder what my mum cooked for dinner, and what dad’s favourite team on anything was. I’de would most likely kill myself with in a month, just so I could see them again.” Harry sounded like he was going to cry. but he held back his tears, but let out a soft sob.

Very gingerly, Draco asked him, “Was that what you were going to do the night I found you there?”

Harry nodded.

“And that’s why you weren’t going to fight him back, isn’t it?”

Harry nodded.

“But he didn’t even open his mouth, and he was gone. Gone. I watched it. What did you say.”

Harry was openly sobbing. He was shaking his head, and mumbling, but Draco knew he needed to get it out. To say what happened, “You can talk about it, you know you can. All you have to do is try.”

Harry shaked his head. ”No, I’m sick of trying. All I did was think about him just leaving. I think I though, go the fuck away, or piss off, something like that. I was most likely holding my wand.. I don’t know. My head always burst into pain when he is near. And then it stopped, “ he was still crying, “and then I saw you, and then him. And he hit you with that spell, and then he came back in, and you tried to do another spell on him, but it knocked you out. And, and, and.. “ sobbing so hard he barely said it, “ I killed him. Our wands won’t fight against each other, and all of that, so I had to say it. “ He bent down, and grabbed a part of his bed sheet, and wiped away his tear. He looked at Draco with his red rimmed eyes, and his nose was dripping. “Oh yeah, “ he laughed, “I am such a hero, aren’t I?”

Draco was soaking all of this in, nodding along, when Harry saw one small tear rolling down his cheek. “So, why were you passed out when I found you?”

“Different reason.”

“Which was..”

“I tried to kill myself. In the simplest way possible. I turned my wand on me, and mumbled the words.”

“That should have killed you.”

“You should know this by now.. I didn’t really mean it. I ment it when I said it to him, but on myself. I guess not. I’m still alive.” He sounded glum, like he failed, “So I went into a coma instead.”

“Harry Potter, “ Draco stood up, “ you are the dumbest person alive. You killed the bad guy, no matter how you did it, you did. That equals hero. Get over this shit. It’s over now. Sure, people are always going to talk about how you killed him, and what happened to you, and all that shit. This is sad. You will always be the boy who lived. Deal with it already.”

“Can’t I just be, “ He looked up at Draco again, with fresh tears in his eyes, “ the boy. No ’who lived” things. But just a boy.”

“Nope.”

Harry burst out into more sobs, “Why?”

“Because the fates saw it so. It’s not gonna change, you can’t change time. You just deal with what is there. That’s all anyone can do. Sure, you have more to deal with than other, but things that suck, just the same.”

“Don’t you over simplefy my life! You haven’t lived it! You think you know, but by god. If I could change it, I would. I rather have no friends, no family, and just be a boy that no one gave a fuck about, ok. You just don’t get it. I don’t care how bad you were treated, or how good you were treated, you have a mother and father. I. Don’t. I have nothing. I have books made about me, so that every body knew what happened to my family, but not me. I was never told anything. I was just wondering around, being a boy. Till Hagrid came along, and explained it all to me. I have spent so many night just dreaming that none of this ever happened. That Voldermort had picked Neville, and I had a mum, that would hold me, and love me. You know, NONE of my family has ever even hugged me?! They see me just about the same as most people do, in this world or not. A freak. Yes, a freak. I am either a boy with problems, or a wizard that was marked sence he was a baby. A baby.” Looking at his feet, Harry breathed out slowly. He didn’t want to talk anymore. He wanted to lay down, go to sleep, and never wake up.

“Well, yeah.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yup, you were marked. But that’s over and done with now. You don’t have the wizarding world on your shoulders anymore. Now, and this sucks to, it’s just your life, and what you make of it. Unless, you go back to Dumbledore, and find out what your life is going to be after all of this. Personally, that would be the pussy way out.”

Harry shrugged, and went to lay down on his bed. Draco grabbed his arm, and turned Harry to face him.

“As cheesy and dumb as this may sound, I am here for you.” And Draco hugged him.

Harry sat stifly, and then fell into Draco’s arms. Cursing himself for how clique` this all was, he felt warm. And nice, and almost wonderful. He smiled, and held Draco a little closer.

Draco kissed the top of Harry’s head, and some how moved both of them into that lovely spoon position, and they held each other, while they fell asleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

my challenge fic!

pinkmoons — Sat, 23 Aug 2003 23:16:43 GMT

I put everything under a cut.

Title: Every Dog has His Day
Author: Quick Quill
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Category: Angst, Drama
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OoTP
Archive: Oh wouldn‘t that be loverly...
Summary: One picture and he would be noticed. Seen by the masses, and finally, cared about by the person he wants/needs the most. Life should be good now, for him. The little naive boy.
Comments: The only beta-ing this has had is spell check, so please, beta. Also, el plot bunny came to me because I was trying to figure out what gender my writing makes me. Turns out, I AM female. Sweet. This is for The Lemon Tree Challenge. The challenge was “photography”.

Every Dog has His Day

Rounding a dark, as most of Hogwarts is.. Needs lights dammit hallway, Colin heard little whisperings. His little ears perked up. He could hear Harry talking, whispering to some one, about something. He had to found out more. He cursed himself for being a nosey twat, but he had to know more. Had too. He wanted to know anything and everything about Harry. It’s was his thing, his deal. In some way’s his crack. He nodded to that thought, and walked softly, silently towards the whispers. Edging down the wall, he peered down the corner, he smiled.

It was Harry, yes.. But the other person, the other.. Oh my. He could barely breathe now. He took out his camera, put a little charm on it so it would stay nice and quiet, and snapped the photo. Trying to forget this little stab of pain jabbing his heart, he walked slowly to his dorm room. It was a bit of a walk, but still.. He didn’t mind. He was to busy thinking about what to do with what he just saw. So many options, so little time. Well.. he thought, </i> there is loads of time. To brood, to plot, to plan.. To do many things..</i>

He held onto his camera a little harder than normal he supposed, because some one wanted to talk to him just before he made it inside the blessed common room door. He turned, sighed, and just nodded as some one, some girl spoke to him. She seems to look happy, but he wasn’t paying her any attention, so he has no clue what it was about. The only clue he had was towards the end when she said, ‘seeya later’, smiled, and walked away. Colin shrugged his shoulders, and said the password to the Fat Lady.

“Tea Party, “ he didn’t even look at her.

She just swung her door open, and went back to sleep as it closed.

Colin kept thinking about his life. That whole following Harry bit everyone knew about, but no one talked about. It was his fifth year, and he somehow became a perfect, so he has lots of special privileges that no one cared about. He kept a darkroom in his dorm room that he shared with only two other boys. The year he got into the house, not many other people did. Sure, he had friends, but he didn’t really talk a lot. He mostly talked to his brother. Even then he felt unwanted. He blamed Harry. Harry was the easiest person to blame. All because he wanted to be friends with Harry. Maybe he tried to hard, he didn’t know, all he wanted was that friendship that has always been denied to him. Just like everything else.

His dark room was a shrine to Potter and all his glory. He wanted it that way. He had pictures of others, Hermoine and Ron for the most part, but he cut those two out so it would be a picture of Harry. Some might call this an obsession, but he saw it as a past time.

He developed the film rather fast, just so he could see that one picture. He formed his plan while he was dropping the picture into the potion that made it move. This is how he would become friends with Harry. He finally had his chance. He could sell it to the Daily Prophet if Harry didn’t start noticing him, caring about him. All because of that one little picture, did his life seem to have meaning?

Mainly, they didn't see him there. Words past, but neither ever looked. No one cared if Creevey was out snapping bits of photos of the Famous Potter. No one would care if he jumped off a damned bridge. All the cared about was him, being quiet, and not bothering anyone.. Well, they will care now, he thought. He smirked, and pocketed his prize picture. He smiled. He didn't care anymore. Harry would notice him now. All because of one picture. It told more than a thousand words..

It spoke lifetimes.

It was Harry, kissing some one. A male some one, with silver blond hair. This some one was a Slytherin. Oh yes, people would care now. Well, hopefully, just one. He stared at the photo of the two, it would show Harry lunging after Draco, and Draco looking like a little schoolboy, with his rumpled hair and all.

Hell, he laughed; it spoke lifetimes about Draco as well. What would dear old Draco’s mummy and daddy think about this? Maybe he could just send the letter to them. He would love to see the reaction they would give. Especially with Draco being the girl in the relationship. Some one’s bitch. God, it just killed him. He knew Harry’s family wouldn’t care, it would just be another thing to put into the young man’s ‘Freak File’.

But, he could just go the old fashion way of leaving the photo on Harry’s pillow leaving a note. He reminded himself to make copies, just in case. He smirked.

He sat on his bed, and started making the ransom note to Harry. He would pause, and chew on his quill, and then jot down a bit more. When it was over, he wrote the final copy, and looked dit over.

</i> Dear Harry,

As you can see by this truly amazing photo of you, they you have been caught. Sad really.. All this time playing some sort of adult version of “hide and go seek” with boys. Well, not boys really.. The Draco Malfoy. That’s just wonderful! I hope you too live a happy life or whatever together. Well, not really.

You see, that will only happen if you follow my rules. Very simple ones, mind.. but you have to follow them to the letter. Rules are.

Find out who I am.
Talk to me like you are my friend.
Never mention this to anyone, or this picture gets put into every paper, all over the halls of Hoqwarts... I’ve made copies, just in case.

Oh, one more. You don’t get to tell little Emby and Ron about this. That also means everyone will see this little photo! Lucky you, eh? Oh if only you could see my grinning.

There is an untraceable charm on this, so don’t bother to try.

See you in the papers if all goes wrong! </i>

He smiled, and moved quickly into Harry's dorm room. He thanked whatever God there was. because no one was there. He placed the photo and piece of paper down on, face down on Harry’s pillow, and walked out. He wished he could be there to see Harry’s face, but some things come with time.

Like friendships, or being noticed. Those can take lifetimes. But not anymore. Not ever again.

He went to his dorm, and started reading a book, and nearly forgot about the whole thing, until he heard some one scream some very well choice four letter words and smiled.

Ever dog has his day.

Colin went back to reading his book, and waited for the rest to come to him. And that happened, a few hours later.

It seemed like Harry knew how the person was almost the second he read the letter, and saw the photo. Who the crap else takes photos of him? Save all the papers of course, but the one inside Hogwarts.. very easy guest. And he only had to go down two flights of stairs to find out whom.

Harry just walked into the dorm room. It didn’t bother him if the other dorm mates were there or not. He had things to do. He saw Colin, with a smirk on his face. Harry wanted to punch him, but he knew he shouldn’t. Colin seemed a little more sure of himself, so he followed the rules for now.

“Found you.”

“See? It wasn’t that hard, was it?”

“Oh else takes photos in the school? Really Colin, you made it so very easy. But, I suppose I can play nice for now..”

“Oh, see, I don’t like that for now part..” Colin stood up, and walked over to his little shrine of Harry, and opened up the curtains, “You see, I have been doing this for awhile now. I just need one little thing, one picture..”

“Oh shut it, really. You aren’t smart enough to form a plan against me. See, it’s funny. You have a room full of people that heard you, and can plainly see that, “ he pointed at the shrine,” so really, you can’t win.” Harry smiled.

“And never will.” A new voice, a slightly high, but cutting voice that made Colin’s skin shiver when he heard it.

“It’s funny, Draco, I am not scared of you. Not a single bit. You can’t hurt me.” Colin was starting to shake a little.

“Oh see, that’s where you are wrong doll,” Draco walked up right beside Colin, and moved a piece of hair of the boy’s forehead, “I can do whatever I want.”

“I’ll show this to everyone!”

“Go ahead. Harry can just say you are a crazed fan wanted attention.”

“He’s right you know. Sad part it, it’s true.”

“The truth, dear Colin, “ Draco smiled, and walked back towards Harry, and put his hand on Harry’s shoulder, “ is better than all the lies people can make up. Kisses.” Draco walked out.

“Just, Colin. Kept it secret, ok. I’ll be friends with, I’ll play by the rules..” Harry smiled, and tried not to laugh, “ try harder next time. Think up something more.. evil. Good first start, you need to work on the threats, though. Hugs.” Harry walked out.

Colin sat back down on his bed, and cried a little. Harry would be his friend now, but at what price? Not the one he came up with, but there was always a price.

That was the lesson for the day. Just because a picture is worth a thousand words, doesn’t mean you have to try to get to those words.

He layed down, and tried to sleep, and wondered where his plan went all wrong. He shrugged, and fell asleep.

Every dog has his day, was his last thought of the day.

pinkmoons — Fri, 22 Aug 2003 22:30:53 GMT

*starts friending people back*

I think I am gonna post the first 6 of my chapters of 'him' later.. Or maybe, just type out chapter seven.. HRM! Or work on that challenge fic.. I don't know.

I feel all kinds of slow today! I wish i could just go back to sleep, but nah. I haven't really taled to Luv for ages, so yeah.

And if I was on earlier, I would have gottin to talk to Amy before she left. And I did try to call. I think I keep pressing in the wrong number. :(

Anyway, somethign that is fic like soon, I promise.

Hello Hello!

pinkmoons — Fri, 22 Aug 2003 00:38:59 GMT

Here is my LJ ment for fics, and random musings and might turn into my regurla biatch.. don't know! Add me back everyone. Well, add me, and I add you. :)

I am sooooooooo happy!