This is my first Harry Potter fic. Yay. *Applauds herself since no one else will.* It took me awhile to actually get this written so I hope it's good.
This is just the first part but I have already started the next part if you like it.
This is *SLASH* meaning there are two boys kissing and *Looks around then whispers* having sex. If this offends you than shoo. Thanks any way. Also there is some naughty language but meh.
I want to thank Boongar Girl (My bestest buddy old pal) for Beta reading since my regular ditched me. So I had to settle for second best. Just kidding Jono.
Well, with much ado and me blathering, Goggled Monkey presents...
A word is worth a thousand pictures.
*******
Dear
I wasn't sure how I should address you. I've called you many things. Mostly rude. Some in the throes of passion. Some I just called you to myself in my head. I never would call you that out loud. If someone had heard. Mostly I guess I was afraid you'd hear.
Yes you heard I said that I was afraid. I guess I never once told you I could be afraid. You probably always thought I was an unemotional git. Even when you confessed you loved me. When I said nothing back. Gods that was most I was ever afraid in my life.
So what is the point of this letter. You already said you never wanted to see me again. Kiss or touch me again. You'll never call me by my given name or by the nickname you gave me. Hell or any of the things you called me in the throes of passion.
It's my fault. I wouldn't go far to blame you of this. Oh I did tell you most things were your fault but. Well I can be wrong. To err is human and despite what my father wishes we Malfoy's are not quite above humanity yet. Below maybe as you said.
What I did. It wasn't all of it. Was it? The reason you left. Punching your friend that hurt you but I know I hurt you other ways. When you said you loved me. I loved you back, I suppose. If I can feel love? It hurts. Does love hurt? It didn't seem to hurt you when you told me. It only hurt you when I said nothing. You left then too. But you came back. You didn't say any thing but I had hurt you. You came back. See!
Fuck, don't you see why I wouldn't tell you I love you. I hurt you and you came back. I don't want love to over power me like it does you. You came back.
And I loved you for it.
I never said it. I couldn't. I'm saying it now. Cowardly way to say it, isn't it? Through a letter. That's why you have your house. I have mine. I am a coward. If my father has taught me anything, it's that I'm a coward. If you have taught me anything it's, that I'm a coward. It's true.
I can't tell you I love you to your face. If I did I might show more emotions. I might cry.
Malfoys don't cry.
If I did, you'd see me at my weakest. If any thing I never wanted to show you how weak I am. Then you'd know I'm a cowardly weak little boy and the only person who ever loved him was his mother.
And you. Of course. But you knew that. I'm trying to explain why I am like this and apologize. It's taking much longer then I thought it would.
Maybe you should denounce my existence whenever you want me to have an emotional break down. Look how it's working now.
I'm sorry for hitting your best friend. I said it but I feel forced to say more. I'm sure a single sorry won't satisfy you. And lords I should know you're hard to satisfy.
If I just say sorry you will think it's just so next year things will be the same. That we'd still have the sex and the kisses. So I wouldn't feel lonely and alone in the dungeons by myself. Though I don't think you know I feel lonely.
That's not why I'm saying sorry. It isn't. Well, I will want it back. Touching you helps to warm me up. I won't lie to you though. Actually, I am lying to you. The truth is I'm not sorry. You're not surprised, I suppose. But you think I'm not sorry for the wrong reasons.
Truthfully, I got over most violent thoughts about your friends years ago. I did not spend the year thinking about punching weasel. I didn't punch him because I don't like him. If I were truly mad at him I'd taunt him and have Vince and Greg around if he wanted to retaliate. I never really thought I was the type to go solve my problems with violence. Cruel taunts, yes, of course.
Back to the question. Why did I hit him? And hard enough for him to have to go to the infirmary?
Because he touched you.
That's why.
This may surprise you but as a child I was never taught to share. I was an only child. A rich one at that who grew into this spoilt prick you claim to love. I know now it was stupid. You've told me before there was nothing between you and weasel. I should listen. Maybe I should have. Oh.
But damn it! You were mine. And he was hugging you. Touching you. In the public no less. I wasn't aloud to do that. I wouldn't let myself. If my father had ever found out....
And you were mine first, He had all his chances with you. He blew them, you were mine. And he hugged you!
How was I suppose to know it was a hug between friends? I've never hugged my friends. Do Greg and Vince look like the hugging type to you? I've had no experience with hugs except from you and my mother.
And hugs from you are so different then hugs from her.
When I'm with you they mean something else and he was hugging you!
That's why I did it.
I'm a greedy heartless bastard
Forgive me?
Maybe you don't. If you don't, you can forget about me. I'll forget about you too. That's what we'll show the world. I never had you, you never had me. Hell, maybe it's true. We never had each other. Next year, if it's what you want, I won't talk to you. I won't look at you. I won't think about you. It will be a never was.
Deal.
If I could only get you out of my head!
If I could forget our time together maybe I could do it.
Harry don't make me do it. Please. I truly want to be with you.
Say the word; I'll stay with you. On your side. The muggle lovers. Against he who shall not be named. Against the Death eaters. Against my father.
The side of the light. The side with the boy who lived. The side with the one who once said he lived for me. I'll live for you.
Just say it. I'm yours.
Or say nothing at all and I'll commit my life to my father. To his lord. To the side against you.
Love or loathing. One word. Draco
***************
Petunia Dursley had her hands buried in soapsuds as she washed breakfast dishes. She frowned out the window as the new summer sun shone merrily over privet drive. She had been doing the dishes for the entire year. She would somewhat welcome having her nephew back. Not that she liked his freak presence at all.
She was alone in the house. Vernon and Dudley had gone to pick up that boy from the train station. She sniffed haughty at the prospect of his return. No, she wouldn't welcome the freak back even if he did wash the dishes.
A beating sound and a large brown thing thrust through the window. Petunia let out a shriek of horror, jumped back and broke a large dinner plate.
A golden owl perched its self on the facet of her sink looking at her in disinterest. She gave another cry was it lifted its leg showing off sharp talons. She moved backwards until her thin from hit the opposite wall. She stared at the giant bird in horror.
It was that boy fault. Him and his freak world. And her sisters fault for dying and leaving her that boy to care for. Both their faults for the giant bird intruding on her doing the breakfast washing.
Oblivious to Petunias fear or distaste for him shook his leg at her again. She saw that in one of its talons it held a letter. It looked at her expectedly. She shook her head.
"I don't want it." She told it forgetting the foolishness of talking to a bird. The owl of course understood and glared at her. His job was to deliver the letter. His leg shook again.
Petunias arm had moved out and grasped a broomstick. She held the bristle end and pointed the handle at the bird angrily.
"Go on, get away"
The owl stared in surprise and distain. With a shake of its great head it dropped the letter. It fell heavily and landed on the Dursly's kitchens floor. Both stared at it for a moment before the owl turned to the open window. Petunia shook the broomstick at it menacingly.
"That's right you great horror. Away!"
The owl's head looked over its hunched shoulder with an air of annoyance. He clicked his beak angrily then took to the skies.
Petunia stared at the open window then the letter in admonishment. Cautiously she leaned over and lifted it up. In strong bold lettering her nephews name was pronounced. Under it was the address of the very house she was standing in. She felt a course of fear flow. How many of those people knew this address. Vernon had told that boy countless times to keep his kind away.
"Wait until he gets home." She vowed. She planned on telling her husband of how she had been attacked by a wild bird all due to that boys insensitively.
Glancing at the letter again she frowned and ripped it in half. She tucked the pieces into her pocket. Well, her nephew would not be receiving that letter. Not that she cared anyway. Or that it was important.
*******
Miles away in a foreboding manor a pale blond boy sat at a window seat. The sky was darkening as day became night. Twisting tentacles of fog hid the multitude stars that should be visible. He twisted a part of his robe in his hand nervously and waited for a reply to his letter. And waited.
*******
Hey, you made it all the way through. I'm impressed. If you like I have the next part coming out soon. And of course review. To do that you must push the little button.
Girl from Rush Hour: Yeah, push the button.
Ta Goggled Monkey