co’s trousers. It only took a few seconds until his hand was shoved inside Draco’s pants and his hand was wrapped around Draco’s cock.

“Fuck!” Draco inadvertently arched his back as Potter started to stroke him, letting his head fall back on Potter’s shoulder.

“Merlin, you’re so hot,” Potter breathed in his ear. “I can’t wait to fuck you.”

Something in Draco paused. He liked the idea of Potter bending him over, but…he wanted to look at Potter, he wanted to see his face when he pushed inside him. He wanted to look at him right now, while he had Draco’s cock in his hands.

He slowly turned around, careful to not have his cock yanked off, and captured Potter’s lips in another kiss. Potter seemed startled at first, but lost no time in reciprocating the kiss.

Overwhelmingly distracted by the sensation of Potter’s tongue pushing against his and his hand tightening around his cock, Draco slowly pushed Potter’s suit jacket down his shoulders and fumbled around until he found the buttons of his shirt. As soon as he had unbuttoned one of them, Potter froze. Confused, Draco pulled back.

Potter was looking at him as though he was a boggart, presenting him with his worst fear. But why? What had Draco done?

“Could we—Err…”

Draco studied him closely. He seemed incredibly nervous all of a sudden. What was going on?

“Can we, um, turn off the lights?” Potter asked.

“You want to do it in the dark?” Draco cocked his head to the side, his mind racing. Why would Potter want to turn off the lights? Oh, Merlin! He was trying to be chivalrous again, wasn’t he? “Potter, I may be a virgin, but I’m not some damsel in distress. I can handle this.”

“It’s not about—” Potter bit his lip. “Err, okay…then, maybe, err, we could keep our clothes on?”

“That…wouldplicate things,” Draco said, trying to push down the disappointment that was quickly bubbling up inside him. “I thought you wanted to fuck me. I mean…you’re still holding my cock.”

“I do,” Potter mumbled. To Draco’s horror, he slowly let go of his cock. “But…um… okay, maybe…we could at least keep our shirts on?”

Draco wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw Potter’s eyes flicker down to Draco’s hands. Or was it…his arms?

Oh.

“You don’t want to see it,” he whispered, understanding hitting him like a slap across the face. “You don’t want to see the Dark Mark.”

Potter frowned, seemingly taken aback. Seriously? Was he really trying to feign ignorance now?

Draco stared at him while his insides started to tighten painfully. It felt like he was free-falling into a black hole, which was sucking all traces of happiness out of him, leaving him empty and cold.

“You don’t want me,” he breathed, flinching at the sharp stab he felt to his chest.

“What?” Potter looked incredulous. But Draco wouldn’t be fooled by him anymore.

“You think I’m disgusting!” He pushed Potter away and hastily zipped up his trousers. “You just wanted a quick one-off. Of course! I’m not good enough for anything else!”

It hurt so much, voicing one of his biggest fears. How ironic. Suddenly, Potter had turned into his personal boggart. How could Draco have been so stupid? Of course Potter didn’t really want him.

“Draco, that’s not—This has nothing to do with your Dark Mark.”

“What other reason is there? Tell me this isn’t because of who I am!”

“It’s not—”

“No, that’s exactly it! You can’t go around, fucking random people because you’re Harry Potter. So you lured me in with your innocent act. Are you really that desperate? You really need to get off that badly, you’d do it with someone who disgusts you?”

“You don’t disgust me,” Potter said, his voice breaking.

“You didn’t even want to look at me! You turned me around so you wouldn’t have to see my face! That’s how disgusted you are by me! Who were you going to picture while you fucked me, huh? Wood? Weasley?”

“Fuck you, Draco!” Potter bellowed.

“You know what, you’re the disgusting one, Potter! You disgust me!”

Honestly, Draco didn’t know what he had expected after that, but watching Potter grab his suit jacket and storm out of his room hurt almost as much as being crucioed by the Dark Lord.

Unable to hold himself up any longer, he sank to his knees. He was so stupid. Of course Potter didn’t want him. Nobody wanted him. Still, he had thought Potter was different. He had thought Potter might…might…

“Stupid,” he hissed at himself. “So, so stupid!”

That would teach him. He should have known better than to let someone in, let himself be fooled like that. Honestly, Potter was no better than the rest of the bloody Wizarding World. If anything, he was worse. He was a fucking hypocrite.

Maybe Draco should have stuck to his dreams. Yes, they couldn’t keep up with reality, but reality had the cruel tendency to choke off any kind of hope, even for someone who usually didn’t dare to hope at all.

Thursday, 5 June 2003

“Are you going to open it or are you going to stare at it until your eyeballs fall out of your head?”

“Shut up, Pansy.”

“The only reason I’m not going to argue with you is because it’s your birthday. Otherwise I’d be telling you what a prick you are.”

“I know it’s from him. I’m not going to open it.”

“Then send it back.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Of course it is.” Pansy leaned forward, brandishing the champagne flute in her hand. “Ooooh, you want to know what’s inside, don’t you?”

“It’s just a letter,” Draco snapped.

“You want me to read it?” Pansy smirked.

“No.”

Before Draco could react, Pansy snatched the letter from him and ran to the other side of the room, tearing it open.

“Pansy!”

“Draco,” she began reading, “I’m very sorry about what happened between us. It’s not what you think.” She paused, taking a sip of champagne. “What did happen between you two?”

Draco just shook his head, hoping Potter hadn’t gone into too much detail in his letter.

“You’re no fun,” Pansy muttered before she continued reading. “I hope you’ll let me explain. Until then, happy birthday.” She rolled her eyes. “That is the most boring letter I’ve ever seen. Oh, wait, what’s this? Oh my!”

“What? What?” Draco jumped up and hurried over to her.

“That’s rather generous, even for someone as loaded as him,” Pansy said, even though she didn’t sound very impressed.

When Draco saw what Pansy was holding, his mouth went dry. It was a cheque. For the school.

“Oh really?” Draco growled through gritted teeth. “That bastard!”

“Merlin, Draco, what did Potter do to you?”

Without answering, Draco grabbed the cheque and the letter and stomped over to the fireplace. With far too much floo powder in hand, he yelled, “Harry Potter’s flat!”

If Draco hadn’t known any better, he would have said Potter had been waiting for him. He jumped off the sofa before Draco even stepped into his living room. His expression was hopeful, yet hesitant.

“Draco—”

“You think you can buy me?” Draco shouted. “You think you can just shove your money at me and all will be iven and otten? I’m not some dirty whore!”

“Draco, that’s not what I—”

“Shut up, Potter, I don’t want to hear it! This is it! Find somebody else to screw around with!”

“For fuck’s sake, Draco, will you just listen to me? What happened that night has nothing to do with you or your bloody Dark Mark.”

“You couldn’t get out of the Manor fast enough!”

“You wentpletely ballistic on me! You wouldn’t have listened to a word I said! You’re not listening now!”

“Because it’s all bollocks!”

“Draco, I’m telling you, this has nothing—”

“What, then?”

Potter hesitated, fumbling with the hem of his jumper. “It’s not that easy for me to say,” he mumbled.

“Because it’s not real.”

“What?”

“You’re just trying to make something up, so I’ll sleep with you.”

Potter’s eyes widened, his face twisting in horror. “You really think I’d be capable of that?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore,” Draco yelled. “I can’t trust you!”

“You know what, if you really think I’m that kind of person, I can’t trust you either.”

“Great, it’s finally settled then,” Draco hissed. “Oh, and by the way, I’m keeping your cheque, for the children. But you and I, we’re done!” He caught one last glimpse of Potter before he stepped into the fireplace again and immediately wished he hadn’t. It made his heart squeeze painfully to see so much hurt in his eyes, but there was no other way. Potter had hurt him too much. There was no excuse in the world that would ever make up for it.

Wednesday, 23 July 2003

The Lovegood’s home was such a peculiar place. Draco was surprised when he found out Luna still lived with her father. On the other hand, it made sense, since they were running the Quibbler together now.

When Luna had invited him over for tea, he hadn’t thought much of it. But now, after only five minutes of sitting down with her in her room, it was pretty clear she had an agenda.

“I’m not talking to Potter,” he said, tracing the rim of his cup with his thumb. “There’s nothing you can say that will—”

“Draco,” Luna said with a sigh. “He’s suffering.”

“So? I’m suffering, too.”

“And have you ever thought about why that is?”

“What?”

“It’s absolutely unnecessary.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, actually.”

Draco paused, taking in Luna’s serious expression. “He told you.”

“He did.”

“Great.”

“He didn’t tell me everything,” she clarified. “But he did tell me what you thought this was about.”

“I know what this is about.”

“You really believe that? You really believe Harry would do something like that?”

Draco didn’t answer and quietly took a sip of his tea.

“He really likes you, Draco,” Luna said softly.

Draco flinched. “He hurt me,” he murmured.

“Because you like him, too. Only the people we care about can hurt us like this.”

Draco hated that Luna was so insightful. It made hiding his feelings so much harder.

Exhaling loudly, he leaned back in his chair and buried his hands in his hair. “I have no idea what to think anymore. There were times I thought he really might like me. We talked about so many things, he trusted me with so many secrets,” he let out a pained laugh at the memories. “I should have known it was all too good to be true. Honestly, the night he made dinner I should have—”

“Wait, he made dinner for you?” Luna asked, her eyes wide.

“Yeah. Honestly, in hindsight, it almost seems like it was meant to be a date, but—”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean,” Luna interrupted him. “Actually, I’m very certain it was meant to be a date, but my point is…He made you dinner and you actually…You saw him eat?”

Draco frowned at her. She sounded like it was a big deal. “Of course I—” He paused. Wait. He had noticed something strange about that, hadn’t he? When Potter had brought him breakfast, when they had been at the restaurant and at Potter’s flat…he had barely eaten anything. He had looked tortured and ufortable. “Luna,” he said, his tone suddenly urgent. “Is there something wrong with him?”

Luna looked like she was biting the inside of her cheek. “I think you should talk to Harry about that.”

“Luna, please,” Draco beseeched her. “If there’s something I should know—” He clamped his mouth shut, unable to finish the sente

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