Title: Love

Summary: I, Harry Potter, am not afraid of love. Er, except when my boyfriend says it and expects me to return the sentiment... HP/DM, One-Shot.

Disclaimer: I. Own. Nothing. :walks away toward cardboard box:

AN: Thank u wonderful Zoomi for being my beta!

I've had some bad experiences with love throughout my life.

For one thing, I don't like the word; it holds too much weight, too much responsibility. It's funny how the "great" Harry Potter could fear a four letter word as much as I do. But I have my reasons.

Love hurts.

Sure it's nice in the beginning; you get butterflies in your stomach when your partner first tells you that they love you. A warm whisper in your ear as they hold you close and kiss your cheek. You feel important, you feel accepted, you feel loved.

But things don't stay warm and fuzzy forever. You get closer to each other, spending practically all your time in their presence. And then it suddenly becomes too much, you grow tired of them, you need to escape.

Cheating usually accompanies love; it's its dark shadow. You hurt, you hate, and you want revenge.

Okay, true, I haven't personally experienced any of these emotions. But I've been witness to them.

You usually gain your knowledge and point of view from your parents. You watch how they interact, how they love, and then grow your beliefs on that. Since my parents were murdered before I had the chance to meet them, I've watched others and how they love each other.

Ron and Hermione, my two best friends. I've always known something would spark between the two, the looks alone that they shot each other constantly was enough to warn someone. With some awkward pushing they finally hooked up. Match made in heaven right?

So everyone thought.

They were total opposites; Hermione loved to study and dedicated herself to learning while Ron was a natural Quidditch fan and slacker. They had their moments when they actually got along with each other, I suppose I could see the love when they sat alone on the couch and simply cuddled.

But besides those short moments, they fought.

I'm sure everyone at Hogwarts has witnessed at least one of their spats; Merlin knows they have at least one everyday. Whether it's over the small matter of studying or the accusation of lack of attention towards each other. It's very annoying, and if that's what love is, I don't want to experience it.

Remus and Sirius, my loving Godfathers. They had love, or so I've been told. Sirius died before I could truly witness it though. Which proves that love hurts, Sirius was ripped away from Remus, leaving the werewolf heartbroken and alone. I know it proves that they did love each other, but was it worth the pain in the end?

I know I shouldn't be turned away from the emotion by these two experiences, but there have also been other, minor relationships that I have witnessed being broken apart by this word 'love'.

And because of these negative outcomes, I now fear even the thought of love.

Which brings me back to the reason my mind has been on this fearful track.

My boyfriend and his sweet whisper of love.

It sent chills down my spine when he told me he loved me, I felt myself stiffen at the word. The hurt in his face when I didn't return the sentiment sent a strange jolt through my chest but I remained firm in my silence.

"Don't you love me too?" Draco finally whispered.

I didn't look at him, I couldn't or I felt I would lose my resolve. I stared at the grass beneath my hands. The Quidditch Pitch has nice green grass, I've never really thought about it but I wonder who takes care of it. Hagrid maybe?

There was a heavy sigh from beside me and I turn to see Draco smiling wanly. "I should have known it would be too much to ask from a Gryffindor, let alone Harry Potter."

"Hey!" I protest. "What's that supposed to mean?" I glare at his upturned face.

He's so beautiful in the moonlight.

"A Gryffindor and a Slytherin is a bit much to ask even in my opinion." Draco remained looking toward the sky, eyes closed and basking in the moonlight. "But Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter?" He turned toward me with his familiar smirk. "That would be a miracle."

I scowl; his smirking always makes me react that way. "Who says miracles don't happen?" Just because I may not love him doesn't mean I want him to break up with me.

He stared pointedly at me. "You won't admit that you love me, and until you do, I can't be happy with this." He gestured toward us.

I feel something in the pit of my stomach, like I was falling off my broom from high up and everything inside was twisting and turning. I don't know if it's fear or something else, but I don't like it.

I take a deep breath and am surprised when it shakes. Why can't I admit that I love him? Do I love him?

My eyes roam across his face as he remains staring at me. I've always liked his eyes; they hold a deepness that I can become lost in. I could sit around all day and simply look into those silver orbs, trying to read his mind, trying to look into his soul.

He is the picture of an angel. His blond hair is like white gold, I smile as a wisp of it blows into his face with the night air, he's grown his locks long and makes him even more handsome.

But those aren't the reasons I'm with him, it's his personality that I'm attracted to. I chuckle lowly at that and he shoots a strange look at me. It's funny though, that I enjoy spending time with my once nemesis.

We hated each other and all it took was one night of fists and tears and we had connected on a higher level. He had found me after curfew and being the perfect Prefect he was he had taken points from "Potty". Being the tempered Gryffindor I am, I argued and fought back until we were both bruised and bloody on the ground and tired enough to admit we didn't like the animosity between us.

That was where we had our first kiss.

I won't say it was some romantic experience and that I saw cartoon hearts and confetti afterward, but it was nice. A whole lot nicer then that disaster with Cho.

So now I have to think to myself, would I care if he left me? Have we grown so close that I would shed tears at his death?

Of course.

That's a stupid question; I would feel those things for anyone even minutely close to me. So that doesn't help my situation.

"If I were to become a Death Eater, would you hate me Harry?" Draco suddenly asks, he's turned away from me and lying on his back as he looks toward the stars.

I freeze and pain races through my veins as I stare toward him.

"Why?" I whisper.

He doesn't move but a small smile traces at the corner of his lips. "No reason, I was just wondering," he drawls.

I know he's lying. I can always tell because he rubs his nose like he is now. Why would he ask such a question? Do I hide my feelings that much?

"Of course I would care!" I hiss angrily, tears forming as I roll onto my side and pull him into my arms. I kiss the top of his head and bury my nose in his hair, inhaling deeply the scent of his shampoo. "I love you."

Both our bodies jerk at the foreign words and I squeeze him tighter as laughter bubbles in my chest.

I laugh aloud, it rings across the silence but I don't care. I've finally admitted it, to him and to myself that I do love him. How could I ever think otherwise?

"I've been so stupid," I whisper and snuggle closer.

He pats my head and I can feel him smile against my chest. "You're only a Gryffindor, it's to be expected."

"Shut it," I chuckle, I move us onto our backs, his head resting against my chest as we look toward the sky again.

We lie there, staring at the twinkling stars, listening to each other's breathing and simply being.

I poke him in the side as I return to his earlier question. "You're not thinking of switching sides are you?" I ask seriously.

He smiles as he shifts and kisses me on the nose. "No, I simply asked because I knew that would get a positive reaction from you."

"Sneaky Slytherin." I chuckle again and pull him higher up on my chest to give him a proper snogging.

"But of course." He smirks.

"Just kiss me." I roll my eyes and pull him down.

So maybe love isn't all that bad, hell, if it gets me Draco Malfoy, the hottest guy at Hogwarts then I'm not complaining.

His tongue slips into my mouth and I moan.

Merlin I love it!

AN: And that's were the inspiration died. Eh, oh well, please review!

-Red